The things we laid do not amount to much

[falsify]

[Faolan - Jul 15] This revolution baby

He's a lot more... Corteous than the last time he was in Hillingdon. Even going so far as to call ahead and see when Faolan has an hour free to talk. It's a little less dramatic than having a head delivered to your home, what he's come about this time. And somewhat more sensitive. It could well constitute thin ice for a Guardian, that's for sure.

Eames arrives exactly on time, with no airs about him, just makes straight for Faolan's office and knocks on the door. He's very patient and professional, waiting quietly with his hands in his pockets, looking around what little of the mansion he can see from where he's stood.

He really hopes he's not out here long enough to get bored.

[Natasha - Jul 18] Release the castaways who run amok

Why is Eames at Redbright? Well, it's a mystery. Or actually, it's not a mystery at all. He's here to make an appointment with the head, because apparently doing it over the phone or via email is just too much to ask for today, yet still easier than going through Council channels. And so he's here, at night to minimise his chances of having to deal with any children.

He's on his way out when he sees Natasha, and very nearly laughs when he does. Eames figured it was a fairly safe bet she wasn't Islington, but that still left countless other factions she could ally herself with, or even none at all. Judging by the look on her face as she walks to wherever though, seems like she's probably a Guardian. Which is hilarious, frankly.

Quietly, not that he expects her not to notice, Eames walks toward her and falls in step next to her. Quiet for a moment or two before he finally says, "what are the chances of bumping into eachother here, eh?"

[Sylvia - Jul 20] When present tense gets strangled in the mire

God Eames hates dealing with the 'officials', but one must do what one must. He's not just acting in his own interest anymore, which is a constant source of frustration for him.

Still, he's made his appointment and arrives to see Sylvia as arranged. Shown to her office with a confident stride as he makes conversation with his escort, entirely uncaring of the fact that he's the very guilty party in a current investigation. He wouldn't be surprised if they suspected fae involvement, but he also highly doubts they can find a shred of evidence to prove it.

"Ms Redbright," Eames greets with a friendly smile and a polite nod when finally allowed into the room, "thank you for agreeing to see me."

Comments

[outstandingbalance]

"Apparently more likely than you'd think," Natasha says after only a brief hesitation, her response smoother than any he would have had from her in their previous meetings. It only took running into each other three times for him to catch Natasha when she wasn't in the grip of bloodlust or just coming down from it. The difference it makes is visible.

She barely bats an eye when he joins her, her expression somewhat reserved, but welcoming in a professional way. When she doesn't feel like her hunger is taking on a life of it's own, she has a good game face.

"Maybe the third time is the charm?"

[falsify]

"The charm?" He asks, wondering idly what she means by that while he turns his head to look at her. She's different when not in the throes of bloodlust, which is to be expected really. More composed-- less open, for want of a better word, but in a way that seems casual. Practised, even.

This must be the version of her people usually see, he surmises. Calm and professional.

[outstandingbalance]

If it seems practiced, there's good reason for it—and she has had a lot of practice. It's not fake. Not exactly. She's too good for that, and it's not that she's putting on a front at the moment. She's much less raw, though;he's had a unique exposure to her.

"I finally get the chance to make a good impression?" she suggests more than she answers. "You don't have a habit of catching me at my best."

[falsify]

"Oh, I don't know," Eames says with a raised eyebrow and a smirk, "a beautiful woman dying to eat me and everyone else in the room? What's not to like?"

A lot, actually. But that's not the point.

[outstandingbalance]

"I mean, if that's your thing you should have mentioned it last time." Her response is lightly, vaguely flirtatious in a way she didn't have in her when they spoke before. She's not sure where he wants to go with that—rationally, she'd imagine nowhere. The look she gives him is playful, though.

[falsify]

Eames huffs a laugh, "it seemed like a bad time." Hitting on someone when they're in the middle of a blood freakout? He knows better than that. He tilts his head toward her, reflecting that same playful flirtatiousness right back at her, "but seeing as someone still owes me a drink, maybe you'll get to find out anything you want to know."

[outstandingbalance]

"That sounds a little like calling in a debt." She answers smoothly, keeping up the rhythm of the patter between them and turning the conversation back on him again. "I don't think you're here just to get me to take you out, though."

[falsify]

"No, no. That's just a fun bonus." Assuming he actually gets that drink anyway, "I had no idea you even worked here."

[outstandingbalance]

"Well, the nest was out of the question," she admits it in a light voice, as though it's meaningless. Since he knows enough to guess that much, it's simple enough to pretend it's not important. "There's only so many jobs out there for a woman with my resume."

[brightwitch]

To be honest, Sylvia would be quite happy never to deal with Eames again. The last time they met, he was rude, threatened to cause trouble if she didn't allow fae access to Night Council territories, and refused to take responsibility for one of his own people kidnapping a child. To say that she doesn't like him would be an understatement. She certainly doesn't trust him.

But here he is and he's at least pretending to be polite for now. She suppresses a sigh, taking off her reading glasses and fixing him with a steely look.

"Welcome back," she says, and gestures to the chair in front of her desk. "Would you like to take a seat?"

There's no visible salt circle this time as Sylvia returns to her desk, though she is wearing a silver chain that is quite a potent deterrent, as well as her usual silver amulet.

[falsify]

He sits as directed, not at all bothered by the look on her face. Eames doesn't care much if she likes him, and the feeling is certainly mutual, but she's smart and ostensibly in charge. There are worse people he could have to talk to.

"I'll cut straight to the chase," he says, something he imagines is probably a relief for Sylvia. Someone with as strong a distaste for the Fae as her probably doesn't want one in her office any longer than necessary. "I've come to speak to you about the vampires. They're out of control and only getting worse."

[brightwitch]

The irony of it. Last summer that's exactly what people were saying about the fae. But he's right, of course. The change of leadership in the Islington Nest has been far worse than anyone could have anticipated.

"I know." She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. God, she knows. The supernatural community is having to deal with the consequences of Raymond's ascension. Imagine having to negotiate with the man. "The situation is at a breaking point. It won't be long before it's impossible to defuse."

She will do what she can to negotiate peacefully and therefore prevent bloodshed, but there comes a point when that is no longer viable.

[falsify]

Oh, she knows. How great. Eames swallows every snide comment that pops into the forefront of his mind; he came here under the guise of diplomacy and he'll hold to it. Wouldn't do to get kicked out for being an asshole and end up accomplishing nothing.

Of course, there's diplomacy and there's incredible understatements. 'Impossible to defuse'? They're past that point already, in his opinion.

"They're out there, treating London as a buffet, and there's not a thing we can do about it because they're protected by their seat on the Council." He lofts his eyebrows, tone casual even though this is something he has incredibly strong feelings about this particular situation. "Something needs to change."

[brightwitch]

"Something will change." She doesn't have to be told that by some uppity fae. "Either they shape up or they lose their seat on the Council. We are preparing for the latter scenario as I speak."

Ridding the Council of the Islington Nest is not as simple as removing one vampire. There are vampire Guardians, vampires who work at every level of the Night Council, vampires who like to walk around Night Council territory and remind everyone that they're here, like dogs pissing against a lamppost. (Something Peter said, that one. In his view vampires are no better than werewolves.) Anyway, they all have to be ejected. She doesn't see any alternative.

[falsify]

"Right. You'll have to forgive me--" Eames starts, crossing a leg over the other with a sigh, "but from the outside it seems a lot like you're doing absolutely nothing. Meanwhile we're doing our best to avoid being drained dry because we're nothing to you and killing vampires is verboten."

Everything about him right now is calm, measured, but despite that there's an impassioned edge to his words. There's nothing new or unusual about a fae hating vampires, but this is more than that. It's a matter of survival, and for now the smartest way forward is playing by the rules.

[brightwitch]

Sylvia raises an eyebrow. "Well, I'm very glad to hear that you're respecting our laws. A lesson that Islington would do well to learn. We have put out extra patrols and security to protect those at risk from rogue vampires until we deal with the problem at its source. If it doesn't appear that way to you, that would be because I am reluctant to interfere with fae territory. Your people get rather touchy about that. But if you would like our help..."

She spreads her hands. If they want help, Sylvia would be very happy to send a team in and take over the fae territory on their behalf. Perhaps they'll realise that they're safer in the Other Realm. Better to leave the running of London in mortal hands.

[falsify]

Eames actually laughs at that, shaking his head at the 'offer' as though it's a joke that's particularly tickled him. "I'll just hand over the lease to my flat while I'm at it, shall I?" As if he doesn't know what 'help' means. Fae territories exist for a reason, not least because humans can't be trusted worth a lick.

"You can help by either keeping your vampires in line or expelling them." Ideally the latter, but beggars can't be choosers. "Or should I just accept you don't give a shit because the people affected most right now are personae non gratae to your Council?"

[brightwitch]

Now that's uncalled for. Her lips thin and her expression becomes distinctly chilly.

"If I didn't care, I wouldn't offer you my help. As I said, either the vampires get back in line or they will be expelled. In the meantime, keep your head down and stay vigilant. We are dealing with this."

And the last thing she needs is for someone like Eames to take matters into his own hands. Don't do that, Eames.

[reticence]

If Faolan knew about Eames' other disguises he might not have been nearly as welcoming as he is, in allowing him into Hillingdon House again. Even so, he makes certain to accept the other man -- the fae -- at a time when there are less people about the place than there might otherwise be. He doesn't want people to get the wrong idea. Especially when he's not entirely certain what Eames wants to talk to him about himself.

Faolan raises his eyebrows but ushers the other man into his office, shutting the door behind him before gesturing to a chair by the desk. "You wanted to talk?" he asks. Not beating around the bush, not bothering to offer refreshments either. Preferring to get straight down to business.

[falsify]

"Mm, about the vampires," Eames says as he sits casually, not bothering to dance around the topic like he usually might. The sooner he can find out where Faolan stands on this and what he's willing to do, the sooner he can move on to actually doing something. "They need to be kept in check."

[reticence]

Faolan raises his eyebrows further as he moves to sit himself behind his desk in turn. It's a conversation he's had several times over with several other members of Hillingdon, but this is the first time it's coming at him from the outside before.

"Kept in check," Faolan repeats. "What are you proposing?" Two can play at this game. Faolan would rather get straight to the bottom of the matter than waste time faffing about trying to determine what sort of motivations the other man has. Better to just come out and ask.

[falsify]

Eames isn't planning to dance around the topic, which everyone should be thankful for. He could avoid it all night if he wants to, but he's here to get things done and being direct is the best way to do it.

Still, there are some concerns to be had, and Eames hesitates briefly, looking nervous almost for a moment. (It's fake, but convincing all the same.) "Before I say-- you are a Guardian," he says with a dash of worry in his tone, "if I were, say, planning to assassinate Raymond? How can I be sure I won't be leaving here in a set of manacles?"

[reticence]

Faolan takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "I am a Guardian, yes," he responds. "I have certain responsibilities to the Night Council. I cannot betray Raymond. So long as he remains a member."

He tilts his head at the other man after a moment, hoping the words will sink in for a moment, before he adds, "From the way he is behaving, however, it seems that that will not remain a problem for very much longer."

[falsify]

"Well, I'm not planning to assassinate the man anyway." Maybe later, who's to say, but not right now. But it's a relief to know Faolan has no love or loyalty for the nest beyond what's dictated by his job. "I am, however, hoping to take a little of his land."

[reticence]

"Good to know," he says. Because if he did, he would probably have to report it, otherwise it would probably be counted by the 'powers that be' as an act against a person he had been sworn to protect.

He tilts his head at Eames. "And how does Hillingdon fit into this picture, then?" he asks. He has to ask. He can't in good mind even continue this conversation without establishing that much.