[OPEN: PLOT] KIDNAPPED BY VAMPIRES?!

[reticence]

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!!))

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THE PLOT

[reticence]

The next day, Faolan is breathing fire. He has made the arrangements to see that Lily is cared for for the day, but he doesn't know where to start as far as Lancelot is concerned. He reaches out to Sylvia to let her know that he's gone missing. He sends a message to every one of Lancelot's friends, allies, and then some whose contact information he can find, and the message is simple, if not very comforting:

Have you heard from Lancelot since last night?

And when he has reached out to all those that he can think of, Faolan turns to Hillingdon. Pulling all the strings that he can, sending out a mass message to all within the faction. This one simple as well, but less is more he feels in this case:

I need a tracker. Volunteers should see me in my office.

And with that he waits. For Lancelot's friends and Hillingdon alike. As patiently as he can. Which is to say that when there comes a knock on his door Faolan stands pacing behind his desk, wound up tight as a harp string.

[constantprisoner]

The message comes as something of a surprise. While Sirius does have a phone, it doesn't get a whole lot of use and he's still getting used to the whole texting thing. It's a brand new world of technology that he's catching up on. The content, however, is simple enough to understand, and Sirius does like to brag that he's got a decent nose.

"Everything alright?" he asks, coming into the office without knocking, and immediately aware of how high the tension in the room is. Especially since there's just one person.

[reticence]

Faolan glances up at Sirius as the other man lets himself into the office. He doesn't even bother to lie, doesn't even bother with the niceties. If Sirius is here to help, then he needs him.

"A friend of mine has gone missing," Faolan says, trying to keep himself as calm and controlled about the matter as he can. It isn't working very well. "I think something has happened to him. Someone, perhaps." Could this be because of him? Could this be anything to do with Aine? No, that's ancient news, and he shouldn't let himself think that too far ahead.

"I need help tracking him down. He's only been missing since last night..." He should still have the time, right? He can't let himself think about the possibility that he's already too late. He won't.

[constantprisoner]

Given the urgency of the text message and the fact that Faolan seems rather wound up, Sirius resists calling the matter into question. If he's only been missing since last night, were they absolutely sure? Still, it wasn't his place to question right now, but rather offer his help.

"If it's only been since last night, it shouldn't be an issue. There's probably still something of a scent about. I can do what I can to track him down."

He taps his nose knowingly.

"As long as you've got something of his. That isn't another head."

[reticence]

Faolan sobers slightly at the mention of the head.

"No, nothing like that," he says. "But I have keys to his flat. There should be more than enough there to be able to get the scent of him." Keys that he had all but stolen from Lancelot's neighbor, but that was no matter. Once Lancelot was home again, he was sure that the other man would think of something to explain it away.

"It isn't like him to just disappear like this," he elaborates. "He left the lights on, he left his music playing, he left his dog." He says it like that means something, and in truth it does. Lancelot would get a sitter if he were staying out late, never mind overnight. And he still hadn't answered any calls or texts.

[constantprisoner]

"Good." The head incident had left a less than pleasant impression on him, and it wasn't an experience he really wanted to repeat.

"That does seem rather suspicious. But are you suggesting that we break into his apartment?"

Not that Sirius really objected, since they did have the keys. And if the dog was still there, he might be able to try communicating with it.

[reticence]

Faolan shrugs slightly. "I do have a key," he says, as if that gives him an excuse. A key that he had liberated from the neighbor, but that is neither here nor there. Faolan lets out a breath, shaking his head for a moment before sitting back.

"Look, if it will help us figure out where he's gone -- what's happened to him -- I don't really see that there's any problem with it. Someone's going to need to look after Lily, regardless." He can't leave her alone for too long. Maybe he should take her with them, even. It would at least give her something to do.

[constantprisoner]

"We could claim to be housesitters, if anyone asks. I don't have a problem either way, honestly. I assume Lily's the dog?"

He smiles, mostly to himself, having known a Lily once upon a time.

"When do we leave?"

[reticence]

Faolan blinks at the other man, stunned at how easily it had been to get the other man's acceptance into his little scheme, before he nods. "I... Have sat house for him before," he elaborates. "It wouldn't be all that much of a lie. Someone's got to stay to look after Lily as it is."

He falters slightly before explaining, "Who. Is his dog, yeah. Sorry. I forget who they've met and who they haven't. Lily's generally the star of the show if you know anything about him at all. But you see, my friend..." He takes in a breath, letting it out slowly before continuing. "His name is Lancelot, and he's the Head Guardian of the Night Council. And I understand how much of a risk that might be for you. But if you're still up for it -- we could leave whenever you're ready."

[anniesgonemad]

Annie isn't a tracker. And it's the first thing she says when she arrives in Faolan's office, after knocking and entering. "I'm not a tracker- but I want to help." She's determined, and she's not going to take no for an answer.

"Just tell me what you need done, and I'll do what I can to help." Unless it was against the Fae.

[reticence]

Faolan glances up at her and his expression is tight. He's trying not to let on how nervous this makes him, how concerned, how worried he is. But it's there, and it's the truth, for anyone who could see through the anger. For there's a healthy share of that there as well.

"I don't know," he says, honestly, before backtracking slightly. He knows that he has to explain himself, that simply stalking around in his office like he is is helping no one. "A friend of mine has gone missing," he explains. "It isn't like him to just disappear like this. I think... I have reason to believe that something has happened to him."

[anniesgonemad]

That look is enough to get Annie further into the room, taking a seat opposite Faolan. Despite being so small, she crosses the room quickly and efficiently.

"And you've tried to contact him, his family, anyone who may know where he is? Been to his house?" She just wants to cover the bases here. "Call the police and ask for a wellness check, they'll stop by." She's got something to focus on.

[reticence]

Faolan nods absently through the list she's giving although he looks a bit sheepish at the police part. "I was supposed to meet with him and wound up running late. When I tried to let him know that, he didn't respond. That's how I knew something was wrong. It isn't like him not to respond. Not for this long. So I..."

He shrugs slightly. "I went by his flat and he wasn't home. I looked, Annie. The lights were on, the music was still playing, it was like he'd just stepped out for an errand, not the length of time it had been. And he'd never leave Lily home alone for so long." The man was the type to call a sitter if he was running late at work, never mind leaving her to fend for herself overnight.

He looks back up at her, the concern written all over his face. "Something's happened. I need to find him." Before it's too late.

[anniesgonemad]

Annie leans forward, her forearms on his desk as she listens eagerly. Each thought is met with a nod as she tries to commit this information to memory. "That doesn't sound good, Faolan," she tells him, but he already knows that.

"Does he have any enemies, then?" Probably a stupid question, given the sorts she imagined Faolan cavorted with on the regular.

"And where's Lily, now?" Whomever she was.

[reticence]

Faolan thinks about covering for Lancelot. He thinks about making up some story about who he is and what he does, but the fact of the matter is that he's already too public a figure for that sort of nonsense. And another fact is that his position might be exactly why he's been targeted in the first place.

"I left her at his flat with some food and water down. She should be fine for now, if a little nervous that he's been gone for so long." A beat, before he realizes he hasn't explained, and elaborates to say. "She's his dog. Lily is... It's Lancelot's dog. And Lancelot, he's the Lead Guardian of the Night Council," Faolan continues, meeting her gaze as steadily as he can. Hoping it won't make too much of a difference. "I would say that's a pretty big target to have painted on his back, yeah."

And before she can say anything, "I told Sylvia. I have no doubt that she'll be mobilizing Guardians to figure it out themselves. But we're Hillingdon. We've got the best hunters and trackers in the city. Surely there must be..." There has to be something, they have to find him. Alive, the desperation on his face is reading.

[anniesgonemad]

Annie blinks. "He's- oh. That's-" she glances towards the door, just briefly. "Wow. so he's got a lot of enemies." And was an important person. That only made the stakes higher.

Making them higher still was the mention of Sylvia Redbright. Annie didn't much like her on principal alone; she was a witch, and she hated the fae. "So the witches are, ah, going to help, too?" Her focus was faltering.

[reticence]

Faolan shrugs slightly. "I don't know," he replies, honestly. "I imagine that the witches are going to try and use their own methods to figure this out. But I'm not a witch, and I can't just sit by and do nothing," he elaborates, unable to keep something of the bitter bite out of his voice at the last. He isn't a witch, after all, nor does he have much in the way of powers. Sure, he supposes he might be classified as a metahuman these days, but what good did detecting whether something is vampire or witch or human matter when his friend is missing and he hasn't the faintest idea of where to begin.

"We need to find him," he says instead, directing his intensity elsewhere. "The sooner we do, the better a chance he's got." Faolan won't even let himself consider the alternatives.

[dirtyredneck]

Faolan knows Daryl's one of the best trackers in the clan. And that wasn't even him having an ego. It was plain fact. He was one of the few who'd grown up doing literal hunting and tracking of things that weren't supernatural. Left him a little unprepared for the magical stuff, but the physical (and occasionally metaphysical) more than made up for it in his opinion.

So why in hell hadn't the man contacted him directly?

Was he giving Daryl the cold shoulder now? Daryl hadn't done shit wrong to deserve that. Faolan was the one that betrayed the clan with his whole double allegiance shit.

Pissed off at all this, and assuming it was a personal shot against him because he had no reason (yet) to think otherwise, Daryl slammed open the door to the office, "You got something you wanna say to me?"

[reticence]

Faolan had been a little too busy breaking into Lancelot's flat and trying not to panic to worry about what Daryl might think of him for not having thought of him first. Honestly, the other man had nearly slammed the door in his face the last few times they had spoken, so could he entirely be blamed for not turning directly to the other man in his hour of need? (Yes, as a matter of fact he could, but that was neither here nor there either.)

Faolan looks up and across the room as the door to his office slams open yet again and Daryl strides his way purposely in. Whatever scene the other man thinks he's going to find, Faolan looks wan. Worried. Angry yes, but there are also lines of concern about his face. He stares blankly at the other man for a long moment before finally figuring it's just easier to ask than assume.

"...what are you talking about?"

[dirtyredneck]

"Your goddamn text!" Daryl snapped and slammed the door shut behind him just to give himself room to pace the length of Faolan's office. "You wanna call me out about something, you say it to my face. You don't go acting like I don't exist."

Was Daryl making a lot of assumptions? Yes. Was it making an ass out of him? Also, yes.

[reticence]

Faolan jumps slightly at the slamming of the door. At the other man's anger. What is he talking about though, this has nothing to do with Daryl himself. He watches the other man fume for a few long moments before just shaking his head at the other man.

"Yes, I could have texted you directly. But I wasn't sure that you wanted anything to do with me. And if I'm right, then this can't wait until whether we can work things out between ourselves or not. My friend has gone missing. I wasn't aware that asking for help would be any sort of personal affront, but if it is, forgive me," he responds, as evenly as he can.

[dirtyredneck]

Daryl stopped in his pacing and stared Faolan down. Going from anger to confusion in a few seconds. All the bluster leaving him like a deflating balloon while he blinked a few times. Gulped down some air. Looked a little constipated maybe in his discomfort.

"Oh," he said in the quietest, most contrite voice. "Thought your were..." Yeah, that bullshit didn't matter and he he was an idiot. "When'd it happen? Where?"

[reticence]

Faolan lets out a little breath he hadn't even known he was holding until the other man's anger had deflated. Wondering what it was that he had been preparing himself for -- did he think that Daryl was actually going to come to blows with him over this? He doesn't rightly know. Although knowing Daryl, he wouldn't put it past the other man.

"Last night," he replies, deciding to focus on the facts and figure out their floundering friendship later. "From his home, I imagine. Or thereabouts. We were supposed to meet up, I ran late. I tried to call him. He didn't answer -- for hours, he didn't. That's not like him. I stopped by his flat to see if everything was alright." He shrugs slightly, as he continues to admit, "When there wasn't an answer I got the spare key and let myself in. But he'd just gone. No call, no note, he'd left his music on for god's sake. He's just..." Faolan trails off, lest he start to sound even more desperate than he does already. This is why he needs a tracker. Something is wrong. And he needs to do something about it. Fast.

[dirtyredneck]

Daryl listened, taking the details given to heart. Things Faolan insisted were out of character for his friend. He nodded at the end, "Okay. Where's he live? We can start there."

For all that he had issues with the man, this was clearly a job that needed doing. And now he felt pretty guilty about his assumptions. So instead of asking how much it was paying (personal shit didn't usually get charged for anyway), he just went on to the important part of it all. He could get on Faolan's ass later about compensation if he decided it was worth the ragging.

[reticence]

"Richmond," Faolan replies, glancing at the other man warily. Uncertain whether Daryl would really want to help when he knew the identity of the friend that Faolan is missing, but needing Daryl's tracking help nonetheless.

"His flat is in Richmond," he elaborates, "and I think. I think that's where he was, when this happened. Or nearby. I mean, you'd never leave your music on unless you thought you were only stepping out for a few minutes, yeah? And nothing about the place looked like it had been disturbed. He just." He spreads his hands in front of himself vaguely, before settling on, "Vanished. That isn't like him, though, he's..." He fights for the words before deciding to simply say, "He really cares about his dog, if nothing else. He'd never leave her alone overnight like this. Something has to have happened."