[ Active / Closed ] Caught in the crossfire

[knightscode]

It's been a complicated few months for Lancelot.

As a Guardian, it isn't terribly great to know one of the Night Council has 'vanished' under mysterious circumstances. Gilbert Norrell may not have been a personal favourite of his, but he was still someone the Guardians were there to protect. Moreover, the investigation is going slowly.

Which is also not brilliant, considering he'd just been promoted.

As both a Police Officer and a Guardian both, there's little Lancelot likes less than the feeling of a dead end.

Then, of course, there's the vampire problem.

Lancelot thinks he can be forgiven for feeling a touch bitter over that.

Richmond -- Early August, Closed to Natasha

Lancelot is starting to feel more than uneasy about what is happening with Islington.

Especially since he has unwittingly helped create the current situation.

He dislikes feeling used, and even if he has managed to fend them off once from taking back the territory he took the loss of trust is something that stings.

Jean-Claude makes him feel uneasy. He'd liked him at first, the man had even saved him. Yet everything that came after makes Lancelot wonder if he has trusted too easily. What the vampire has told him is true -- in comparison surely he is far from the worst one, but then again perhaps that is only because Lancelot has not seen him at his worse. Perhaps he is being fooled all over again.

What he needs is someone who better understands vampires than he does, which is honestly not difficult. Yet... equally, there is someone he can think of.

Although most likely this isn't what she'd been thinking of when he'd offered to meet her.

He's standing outside the small, brightly coloured shop with one hand shoved into the pockets of faded jeans. The sun is long set, but the place is open until midnight -- although Lancelot suspects the fact that this caters to the supernatural community is entirely unintentional. Lily is sat pressed up against his legs, leaning slightly into him as his free hand ruffles her white fur. She's the first to sense Natasha approaching, and looks around before pushing to all fours -- tail beginning to swish up over her back. Lancelot looks up in turn, brightens a little at the sight of her and offers a small smile.

Then he belatedly realises he's standing in front of a small frozen yogurt shop and looks back at it self-consciously for a second before offering her a shrug.

"I hope it's everything you thought it would be," he says, and his lips twitch in barely repressed amusement.

Southwark -- backdated to June / Closed to Faolan.


Lancelot is more than a little surprised he actually won, but he's not arguing with it.

Now, though, as adrenaline begins to wear off all the cuts and scrapes he's wearing begin to hurt and as he looks down at himself... Lancelot can't help but laugh a little.

He looks like he belongs on the cover of some utterly ridiculous romance novel, shirt sliced and covered with blood. Doesn't help that it's a white shirt. Why did he wear a white shirt? He wasn't thinking, that's why, he was too angry to think. Sighing a little he tries to work out the best way to get home like this. He'll be stared at if he takes public transport. Maybe a taxi would be more forgiving.

With a heavy sigh he plods his way back toward the gaggle of Daybreak witches -- then catches sight of something out of the corner of his eye.

Faolan? Of all people -- well, Lancelot would have dragged him into such a thing once upon a time but... Faolan is now the leader of Hillingdon, and already has enough political complication without looking as if he's assisting in a Daybreak claim.

Lancelot blinks at him a moment before frowning and beginning to cautiously step over.

"If you're looking to help," he begins slowly, "you're a little late now. I'm afraid it appears to be over."

Comments

[outstandingbalance]

Natasha smiles a greeting, the expression warming her cool features, reaching her eyes. "I'll have to let you know after I try it. But first impression? Everything I was hoping it would be."

Having addressed Lancelot, she kneels down to give Lily a proper hello too. She drops down to the dog's eye level and ruffles the thick white fur around her neck. "It's good to see you again, too. Yes, you're why I really came. Aren't you?"

Everyone is always here to see the dog, aren't they?

The smile she flashes at Lancelot is pleased, amused by the dog's interest in seeing her.

[knightscode]

They are, as they should be! Lily should always be admired and befriended! Her tail swishes faster and she bounces slightly before sitting and shuffling so she's almost on top of Natasha's feet, leaning into her touch. Lancelot gives a soft huff of amusement.

"She's allowed inside -- although not any frozen yogurt herself. I don't think that would do her any good at all."

Even if she would most definitely want some. Everything should be for dogs! Especially things bad for them.

"Have whatever you like! On me. They do coffee, cold drinks, waffles, crepes, frozen yogurt obviously... I think cupcakes and things but they might have been out all day by now."

Gently tugging Lily he gets her attention and encourages her off Natasha, steps toward the doorway.

[outstandingbalance]

"I could go for some coffee," Natasha says as she straightens. She won't encourage Lily with more affection while Lancelot is trying to get her to behave and go inside. "I'll have a look at the menu."

There's a brief pause as they move inside and queue up, Natasha taking in the atmosphere. Not exactly the kind of place one would expect to run into vampires, though given the hour and the fact that there's people here, she wouldn't be surprised to find another one. After giving the area a cursory glance, her focus returns to Lancelot.

"So what have you been getting up to? Hopefully not too much trouble." That last is added half out of optimism, and half to let Lancelot know that if things have been rough, she doesn't mean to pry. She knows what London has been like lately.

[knightscode]

He lets out a soft huff of laughter at that, persuading Lily to sit beside them as they wait.

"I'm always in trouble," he says, a hushed sort of confession. "I fear I might attract it, or else it is attracted to me. Did you hear about Southwark?"

About how Daybreak took it off the vampires, and then they tried (and failed) to take it back. With very coincidental timing, too, as it so happens. Since plenty of the vampires were busy trying to stop Daybreak taking it right as Millicent was getting into trouble.

[outstandingbalance]

"I've heard about it," Natasha admits, glancing at him sideways. There's a little concern where he's going with that line of questioning, and she adds, "I try to keep up with what's happening, but that's the kind of thing I try to stay far away from at this point."

She smiles then, a little sympathetically. "It's the kind of thing that seems to seek some people out though."

[knightscode]

"I was involved both times," he admits, and lofts an eyebrow at her. "I'm definitely one of those people. Jean-Claude was involved too, and I'm..." Lancelot hesitates, tilts his head slightly. "Well, I may be a little bias now, but I'm starting to wonder if I wasn't wrong about him."

He winces, shifting his weight between his feet as he thinks it over before taking another step forward as the queue moves.

"I don't know enough about this all to judge. Forgive me, I didn't mean to drag you into my problems. You'll have to be careful, asking me about how much trouble I've been in. There's always some, and it's never simple."

[outstandingbalance]

"That's how trouble works, though. You always want to talk about it to people who aren't involved." She glances back over her shoulder, an almost unconscious move that somehow doesn't draw attention to itself.

It doesn't seem like anyone is listening.

"But if you need an ear..." Her lips twitch. "I'm pretty committed to staying uninvolved, and I'd like to think I'm unbiased. I'm also pretty good at keeping a secret."

[knightscode]

"At least let me get you that coffee first," he protests, and steps forward as they reach the front of the queue. He digs out his wallet, squinting at the board behind the till and vaguely reaching out a hand to persuade Lily to sit.

(She doesn't want to sit, she can smell exciting food everywhere!)

"Cappuccino for me," he says finally, "regular. What do you want?"

[outstandingbalance]

"Let's say an Americano," Natasha says, the irony of her order not lost on her. "I might have to get a cup of yogurt too. Never had one before, so why not try it?" She doubted she'd appreciate the flavor, but she might appreciate the texture or the experience.

"Seems sad to get to this point and never try, right?"

Besides, it will give her something extra to do while they talk. Natasha got the feeling Lancelot had a fair amount to chat about.

[knightscode]

"I think I can stretch to that."

He lets her pick a flavour while the coffees are made, gently ruffling at Lily then juggling his cup of coffee and the leash. There's a corner table near the street he thinks they can risk, the music here is moderately loud and between that and the noise of traffic and passers by they wont exactly be the centre of attention. Lily fusses under the table until he gets her to sit down, half distracted herself by the occasional dog passing by.

"Is life at Redbright suiting you?"

So maybe he doesn't just want to launch straight into his own problems. He feels a little bad doing so, even if he had half intended to ask her advice.

[outstandingbalance]

Natasha makes herself comfortable in the corner, half an eye on her companion and half on the foot traffic as she takes the first sip of her coffee. Small blessings—coffee was strong and distinct enough a flavor that she still found herself able to appreciate it. She also appreciates the heat that seeped into her fingers and having something to do with her hands.

She wasn't expecting the first question to be about her, but she takes it in stride.

"Better than I might have expected," she answers honestly. "I wondered if it would actually work, all things considered. But it seems to be okay so far."

Not exactly a winning endorsement, but still something. They hadn't chased her off with pitchforks yet, so there was that. At least some members of the team seemed to be getting used to her, even warming up. That was all she could really ask.

"I could do worse."

[knightscode]

"You could, a lot worse with the way things are going. I'm not so sure what would be a better option, honestly."

Islington is painting a target on himself, Hillingdon is run by Faolan who has a grudge against vampires and... likely is not, is probably swamped with hits on vampires currently. What does that leave? She could be an ally for one of the Circles, but they're at each others throats. The fae are still recovering from all Norrell's propaganda. The East End Pack are somewhat still bristling at the vampires. She isn't exactly swimming in options.

"Redbright is about as noncommittal as it comes, when looking at all the supernatural problems London has. If you intend to keep to your idea of not committing it's a good option."

He flicks her a small, faintly amused smile at that. Lancelot didn't really intend to commit himself but, here he is. Head of the Night Council Guardians and still attached to Circle Daybreak. He can't say he's not committed, even if he has doubts.

[outstandingbalance]

"At least it gives me some perspective," Natasha agrees. She feels a little more committed than she'd like to admit, not taking sides but that doesn't mean she's not invested in certain outcomes.

The world didn't always allow neutrality.

Something that seemed to hold very true for Lancelot too. He doesn't seem like he set out to be in the middle of... this. Whatever he was getting into this time, with Jean-Claude.

"From the sound of it, your life is a lot more interesting than mine is right now."

[reticence]

Faolan knew better than to get himself involved in all of this, considering his current political position. Head of Hillingdon, he needs to think of them as well before he goes rushing himself into any potential conflict that might turn around to point the finger right back at them.

But it's one thing to stay out. And it's another thing entirely to stay away. He doesn't believe that Lancelot should have trusted this invitation. Certainly not from a vampire. But come Lancelot had, to greet the vampires with a righteous anger that somehow, some way it seems he had managed to channel to use to defeat them in turn.

Faolan's not going to question it. Why look a gift horse in the mouth? What he is concerned about is the state of Lancelot after the fight was over. And what he had been thinking accepting it in the first place. He steps forward, frowning up at the other man as he takes it all in, anger coiling tight within him at the creature that did this to the other man.

"I don't know that I would have been much good following the rules anyway," he replies, before taking another hesitant step towards the other man. "Are you alright?" he asks, his eye on a few cuts in particular. Lancelot might have won the duel, but he certainly didn't emerge unscathed.

[knightscode]

"Fine," Lancelot answers easily, although the way he looks down at himself after suggests even he doubts the truth of this. "I'll live, nothing life threatening that I can tell. Can't say the same for my shirt, though."

He winces slightly, tugs at the fabric where it is sticking to some blood and tries to take a steadying breath.

"But a drink might help."

Which is a little more honest than he'd be if he wasn't shaken. Lance is, though, and he's tired and confused and bleeding. He may have won, but he doesn't feel particularly victorious.

[reticence]

Faolan watches as Lancelot answers, and doesn't believe that he's 'fine' for a moment. At least the pair of them can agree that his shirt is probably for the bin, if nothing else. He throws a glance behind Lancelot to be sure that he isn't being followed -- he isn't sure of what terms they agreed on, but he wouldn't put it past the vampires to break them, angry with the way that things have turned out. Lancelot shouldn't have to stick around to have to make certain they stick to their word, though. He's already done enough for the witches tonight, not even being one himself.

He takes another tentative step toward Lancelot, reaching to still Lancelot's hand from pulling at the shirt and worrying the wound anymore. He can feel it, welling within him. The aftermath of the fear for Lancelot, as he watched the sword fight. The desire to lash out, what were you thinking?, warring with the intense desire to protect him. "I think I can do something about that," he offers instead. He's certainly got a better liquor cabinet at his place than Lancelot himself. And a better medicine cabinet at that as well. "And the rest as well. Here."

He shrugs off his jacket and holds it out to Lancelot in turn. It's probably not going to fit him very well, but at least it will cover up the worst of the shirt. "Take this. You look... Rough." And the last thing that they need is anyone stopping them to ask questions.

[knightscode]

Rough.

That's one way of putting it, he supposes.

He takes the jacket after a second of hesitation, shakes it out then... hangs it over his shoulders awkwardly instead of pulling it on. It looks like it will be too tight around his shoulders if he tries, and Lancelot doesn't really want to ruin Faolan's jacket if he can help it.

"Thank you," he says regardless. Then, "I'm not so sure I should take public transport like this."

Just, you know, even with the awkward jacket he still draws attention.

[reticence]

Faolan watches him drape the jacket over his shoulders and it's not quite the effect that he had intended. He supposes it's better than nothing, though, and he supposes it's something that Lancelot hadn't outright refused for that matter as well.

He shakes his head in response to the comment, gesturing away from the huddle of witches around them and back towards the main road. "No," he agrees, "I don't think you should. Luckily, I'm not sure that a taxi will care all that much. Not at this time at night. So long as you keep from bleeding on the seating." He'd been trying for light banter but the fact that it's actually a possibility takes something of the light out of the comment.

He turns and begins to lead them towards the road. "Do you think Lily can spare you for a little longer?" he asks. Not outright stating that he's intending to head back to his own flat first, though certainly implying it.

[knightscode]

At the mention of bleeding Lancelot looks down at this shirt again self-consciously, adjusts the jacket and pulls it as close to closed as he can to try and cover some of it.

"Lily?" he echoes, and frowns a little. "I think so, but... if you're planning to take me to A&E, I don't think it's necessary."

He doesn't think anything is deep enough to need stitches, anyway. At least, not that he can tell.

[reticence]

Faolan glances sideways at the other man, frowning slightly at his own frown, wondering whether Lancelot would protest the idea if he really did need a doctor or not. "It would serve you right if I did," he says, before cutting himself off and glancing away. He doesn't want to cause a scene, especially not here. He has questions for Lancelot, of course he does. But there is a time and a place and he wants to be certain that they don't have an audience when he gets to them. And less of an opportunity to shy away from answering, if he has any say in the matter.

"No," he says, after a moment. "No A&E. I should have everything back at mine. Including that drink." He throws another sideways glance at Lancelot and the way that he's awkwardly wrapped the jacket around himself and then away again. "I'll have to see if I have anything that might fit you, though."

[knightscode]

Lancelot flinches slightly at the first remark, adjusts the jacket around his shoulders uncomfortably before giving a slight nod.

"Thank you," he manages, "although it's fine if you don't. I have plenty more shirts at home."

So even if he has to vaguely clean up and head home in it, he can cope. It's only for tonight, after all, and with bandages on the wounds the worst of it might be hidden anyway.

[reticence]

Faolan tries not to feel bad at the flinch, considering it's basically exactly the reaction he had thought it would get out of the man. That he had lashed out because he had wanted him to feel guilty for his choices. Instead he shakes his head.

"Maybe you do. But if you want to make it home tonight, you're going to probably want to change," he says. He throws another sideways glance at the other man, before shrugging. "Take it from someone who has spent enough nights trying to get home looking worse than you to know."

He turns towards the street to attempt to flag down a cab for the pair of them. Luckily it's not too late, and it isn't long before he manages it. Making sure he's got the other man settled in beside him before he gives his address to the cab driver and sitting back in his seat for the ride. Though he's unable to keep himself from asking, "...how did you do that?" He throws a glance at the cab driver, before lowering his voice further. "How did you beat him? Not that I didn't want you to, but..."

[knightscode]

"If I could tell you, I would."

He shifts uncomfortably, trying to work out a way of fastening his seatbelt while still keeping the jacket around himself like a makeshift cape. mostly this involves trapping his arms awkwardly, somehow adding to his overall levels of discomfort. He looks ridiculous, he feels ridiculous, and he also feels tired and frustrated a little irritable. He can tell Faolan is upset with him, and Lancelot doesn't feel as if he deserves it. He's only doing his best, and hadn't he managed it?

Yes, it was dangerous, he knows that's the argument -- but he can't think of a particularly safer idea right now.

(There are plenty, he knows in his heart, he just doesn't want to dwell on them and how badly it could have gone wrong.)

[reticence]

Faolan turns and frowns at the other man at that answer, considering the fact that it isn't really much of one. What does he mean, he doesn't know how? He was the one who had been in the fight, hadn't he? How can he not know?

Still. It's true that Faolan's upset, but he doesn't want to go on the attack. The way that Lancelot's got his jacket wrapped about himself, hunched in on himself. It quiets whatever other protest Faolan might have had. He has more questions, but they can wait. At least until they're out of the taxi and somewhere where they can discuss these things properly.

So he stays quiet for the rest of the ride, leaving the conversation open for Lancelot if he wants it, but not forcing anything between them. Once they reach his building Faolan pays the driver and, after a quick glance behind himself to make sure Lancelot is following, leads him in and up to his flat. Unlocking the door, he gestures him inside. "Here, sit," he says. Letting Lancelot choose anywhere he likes, although between the little kitchenette or the sofa, there isn't much of a choice.

[knightscode]

Given the option to stay quiet Lancelot does, splitting his attention between idly checking his phone, watching the traffic out the window and shooting Faolan guilty looks.

Faolan's flat is familiar at least, and he follows him up and shrugs off the jacket -- inspects it warily to see if he's gotten any blood on it before hanging it over the back of a nearby chair. Sit, Faolan instructs, and Lancelot hovers a moment uncertainly before drawing up a chair in the kitchen area. He doesn't want to get blood on the sofa, either, and glances down at his shirt to begin picking at it once more.

"I'm sure it looks worse than it is," he says, as a token sort of protest against the fussing, and lifts his eyes just enough to follow Faolan's movements warily.