reticence: (modern troubled)
Faolan ([personal profile] reticence) wrote in [community profile] undergrounds2016-08-14 09:03 pm

[OPEN: PLOT] KIDNAPPED BY VAMPIRES?!

There aren’t many narrow, dark alleyways in Richmond -- but there are some.

Lancelot only needs to walk down one to get in trouble.

He’s cutting through between houses on his way back from Tesco. He hadn’t meant to be long, just needed some fresh milk and a loaf of bread for next week, so he’s only dressed in a light t-shirt and some cut-offs. The air is still warm even this late, and he’s distracted -- half tapping his phone awake every so often wondering if he should say something. Faolan doesn’t normally stand him up, but it has been difficult lately. Then again what if something happened? Should he check? He doesn’t want to be clingy, after all…

His senses prickle, telling him something is happening, and he barely gets enough time to turn around before something is being swung at him. There’s a soft clack as his phone hits the ground and skitters away into someone’s front garden, and bread and milk get dumped unceremoniously into someone’s bin before the vampires vanish away.

All the lights are on in his flat, music still softly cycling through his library, but anyone who hops the fence into his back garden will realise Lily is pacing the kitchen all alone.

*************************************


Faolan is a man dedicated to his job, dedicated to his cause, and dedicated to finding an answer when a challenge presents itself to him. Which is why, when confronted with the issue of what to do about Raymond, he finds himself struggling with the dilemma. Of course the vampire is a maniac, a danger to the public, but he is also currently faction leader for Islington, which means that by proxy, he is creating a danger through his vampires as well.

It gives him a lot to think about, which is exactly what he's doing, going over various reports of vampire activity from the past month, taking note of the steady incline of injury or homicide at the hands of the Islington vampires, and correlating it with the changes in policy that the vampires have enacted since then. He's not sure exactly what he's looking for, but he knows he'll find it if he just looks hard enough. And in fact, he's looking so hard that he works straight through the time that he'd arranged to meet up with Lancelot, and a good hour beyond that point before he realizes what he's done and leaps to his feet to track down his mobile with a curse.

Lancelot's mobile rings out with no response and Faolan curses again before shooting him a quick text to apologize for himself. And then another to ask if he'd rather reschedule. While Faolan waits for a response he checks the time and clears up his desk for the night. Putting away the reports and locking them up in the bottom drawer of his desk. Grabbing his phone and impatiently waiting for a response as he slips on his jacket and jogs downstairs to the main floor.

Ten minutes pass and he tries calling again. The phone rings out. Faolan wonders whether Lancelot had just gone to bed at this point, but it's early yet. Maybe he's left it on vibrate? He calls a few more times in succession, all of them ringing out to voicemail. He leaves one, as he heads out to the train station, deciding he might as well head to Lancelot's flat to apologize for himself, if nothing else. Sending another text, asking him if he's alright with that. Waiting for a response as he makes the trip that never comes.

By the time Faolan's made it to Lancelot's neighborhood, he's made his way through feeling guilty, then angry at himself, then angry at Lancelot for reacting this way, then working his way increasingly through a state of concern. He's pulled far more stupid stunts than missing a planned get-together with Lancelot, and the other man had never purposely stopped talking to him then. He tries to reason out what might have happened, maybe he had a headache, maybe he'd gone to bed, but the fact is that until Faolan knows for certain he can't help but feel an increasing amount of dread building up within him.

A feeling that does nothing to dissipate as Faolan reaches the other man's flat to find the lights on, the doors locked, music quietly seeping through from the stereo, and no response to the door. Not even when he rings the bell several times. The fact that he can hear Lily pacing inside concerns him even more, to the point where he decides to pop over to Lancelot's neighbor's to beg the key off of her (on the pretense that he'd lost the one he'd been given, which earned him a wary once-over but he'd been over enough to be recognizable at this point, for better or worse).

It doesn't take long for Faolan to determine that he isn't home. Nor does it take him long to determine that there's more at play than the other man being angry at him at this point. Whatever Lancelot might be feeling about Faolan after he'd skipped out on him that night, Lancelot would never leave Lily alone like this.

After three hours, sitting in the other man's flat with his dog, calling his mobile with no response, Faolan knows without a doubt that something is wrong. That Lancelot is missing. And come hell or high water, he will find him, he will find who did this, and he will make them pay.

((ooc: there are three threads below -- feel free to tag into one or more as you like! planning for this plot began here, but if you hadn't tagged into that please don't let that stop you from participating in this plot! LET'S RESCUE LANCELOT YOU GUYS!!))
knightscode: Kicked puppyeyes (♠39)

[personal profile] knightscode 2016-09-05 03:59 pm (UTC)(link)
"Gently," Lancelot chides her, even as Lily lifts her paws to rest on his thighs. "Gently, gently --"

She's trying to restrain herself, but it's been so long since she saw Lancelot -- so long! Forever! She is so excited to see him!

He slides past her and drops to sit on a chair in the breakfast area, letting her fuss at him as much as she likes and smoothing her ruff.

"There were are, sit for me there's a good girl."
knightscode: Kicked puppyeyes (♠39)

[personal profile] knightscode 2016-09-05 04:08 pm (UTC)(link)
Lancelot? Her ears perk toward Faolan at the sound of that name, and she wags her tail a little faster. Will he be coming back soon? Will they go to see him? She looks between the two of them, circling to examine Faolan then turning to step closer to Sirius and invade his personal space. Hello! Hello, Sirius! Where is Lancelot? Where is he? Will you show her? She wants to know!
knightscode: This is some serious shade (♠58)

[personal profile] knightscode 2016-09-05 05:21 pm (UTC)(link)
He hesitates at that, fingers still toying with Lily's ears. Part of him mentally recoils from the idea of having the shirt cut off him, but another part recognises that his trying to get it off on his own will hurt and might not ultimately be worth it.

"Not without help," he says finally, "moving my arms still... hurts."

To put it mildly.
anniesgonemad: (tight lipped)

[personal profile] anniesgonemad 2016-09-06 03:07 am (UTC)(link)
Annie's happy to sit in silence, looking out the window as the two of them ride through the streets. Faolan's voice gets her to look up, her brow softening.

"Oh. No- don't thank me. I just, ah- I like to help. When I can." Hopefully now was one of those times.
constantprisoner: (padfoot)

[personal profile] constantprisoner 2016-09-06 03:15 am (UTC)(link)
Sirius jumps a little at the fact that he suddenly has a new friend wanting to say hello but recovers quickly and offers up a few pats.

"We're going to find him. Think you can help us?"
knightscode: Kicked puppyeyes (♠39)

[personal profile] knightscode 2016-09-07 11:54 am (UTC)(link)
Lancelot looks down at himself and lets out a slight sigh of resignation.

"There are scissors in the draw to the right of the cutlery," he offers finally. Where all the tape and batteries and other miscellany lives. He doesn't want to admit defeat, but he knows well enough that the amount of pain moving around to shrug off the shirt would cause probably isn't worth it for saving something that's already near enough ruined.
knightscode: Too noble for this shit (♠56)

[personal profile] knightscode 2016-09-07 05:31 pm (UTC)(link)
He winces slightly at the sound of the fabric ripping, glances at Faolan's hands slipping the fabric away then up at his face uneasily.

"I know," he murmurs, and he does -- although he'd rather not dwell on it honestly. It's going to hurt, and there isn't much he can do about it. It's simply a fact. Even if he goes to sleep without a t-shirt or anything he only delays having to put one on, and it might hurt more tomorrow.
knightscode: Kicked puppyeyes (♠39)

[personal profile] knightscode 2016-09-07 05:34 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, yes!! She would love to help! She is a good helper, Lancelot always says so!

To prove this fact she squirms free of Faolan and pads over to her bed, returns a moment later with a toy which she presents to them expectantly. See! She can find things! She is a good finder of things! Is she being good? She wags her tail helpfully, because she thinks she is!
knightscode: Kicked puppyeyes (♠39)

[personal profile] knightscode 2016-09-07 11:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Tell him what happened? Lancelot frowns slightly at the question and drops his eyes again.

"Forgive me Faolan but I think you can see what happened."

He can see the bites, can't he? The bruises? What else does he need to know? Lancelot was kidnapped and held and drunk from. He'd really rather not talk about it, given the choice, and isn't about to start relaying the story willingly.
Edited (belated typo correction) 2016-09-08 19:50 (UTC)
dirtyredneck: (Neutral Conversation (02))

[personal profile] dirtyredneck 2016-09-08 01:05 am (UTC)(link)
Luckily for Faolan, Daryl was, in fact, referring to a motorcycle. His motorcycle was obviously cobbled together from spare parts. But as Faolan would find out when he got on to ride it, it ran superbly. And yes, there was a helmet for Faolan to wear. Daryl had one, too. City traffic laws were almost entirely obeyed by the southerner. He didn't want a blemish on his record when he was aiming for citizenship. ...A three year work visa at the very least.

Daryl gets the bike ready and hands Faolan said helmet, then climbs on, "Gonna need an address. Or at least an idea of what part of the city we're going to."
constantprisoner: (proud of you)

[personal profile] constantprisoner 2016-09-08 04:08 am (UTC)(link)
"Well, it's a start," Sirius says, stifling a laugh and giving her a pat on the head. "But it's not quite what we're looking for. Do you have something of Lancelot's? Or do you know which way he went?"

He makes eye contact with her as he speaks, hoping that maybe he'll have some effect.
knightscode: This is my dramatic pose (♠48)

[personal profile] knightscode 2016-09-08 11:35 pm (UTC)(link)
He flinches slightly the first time it makes contact, but that's about as much reaction as Lancelot gives -- eyes drifting over to Lily who is surveying the whole thing with atroubled sort of expression. If she could help, she would! She does not know how to help here, though! What should she do?

There's something calming about the simplicity of her response to it all, at least. Lily doesn't judge or pity, she only knows that they are good friends and all she ever wants is to help or play or eat. Lancelot knows what to expect from her.

Faolan is a little more complicated, even though he always does mean well.

"Can you -- get me a drink?" He prompts finally, at least fighting the urge to get up and get it himself. "See if there's -- apple juice left?"

Or just something other than water, something with some degree of sugar and flavour to keep him going as the adrenaline begins to fade.
knightscode: Kicked puppyeyes (♠39)

[personal profile] knightscode 2016-09-09 09:29 pm (UTC)(link)
Ah, yes. He hadn't really thought ahead to the drinking part. The realisation makes him press his lips together unhappily as he slowly takes the drink, gathers up his courage before quickly taking a sip and putting down the glass with a wince.

Maybe he should buy straws. Does he have straws already? Maybe, he isn't sure.

"Thank you," he manages, and tries not to think how many actions involve lifting and lowering his arms in his life.

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