undergrounds | MABON } 22nd September


The times, they are a'changing. But in this case, it's the same way they change every year. The 22nd of September is the Autumn Equinox, and aside from it being a great time for witches to get up to all sorts of shady shit with fae, it's time for the seasonal change in power between the two Courts. And in typical Fae fashion, this event is to be marked with a hugely ostentatious party. They've taken over Crystal Palace Park for a party that'll be going near on 24 hours. The trees are lit with twinkling lights, and many fae have chosen to forgo their glamours — some are indescribably beautiful, others monstrous, and quite a few... Well, they look more or less human, but obviously it doesn't bother them and it shouldn't bother you either! There is dancing, flirting, and laughter. And the drinks and food are free flowing. Slipping between realms is also extremely easy, but there's been strict instruction not to steal any mortals tonight or there'll be hell to pay. This also marks the first official appearance of Eames as the Lord of Autumn, (it's not something he could readily get out of, you see,) so expect plenty of gossip about how odd it is he seems to shy away from his title, his obsession with mortals, and how very un-Fae it is of him to cancel the hunt.
	The RULES are as follows: All vampires must have a fae chaperone. The open invite does extend to vampires, but we can't just have them walking around doing whatever they like, can we? In addition, drinking blood is strictly forbidden. Consensual or not, any vampire found drinking blood within a half mile radius of the park will be killed. It's just not good manners. Violence is also forbidden. It's just not fun for everyone. If you really need to have it out with someone, challenge them to a duel. The children's playground has been made into a duelling area with guards to make sure it all goes smoothly. There are weapons available and they're all very medieval.
That's about it, they aren't a very rule-heavy bunch and honestly just want to have a fun night.

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"Welcome back to the land of the living," Eames walks up to Finnick with his own party-appropriate smile and a glass of wine. It hasn't escaped his notice that Finnick's been quiet as of late, but beyond that Eames isn't about to say anything about it. He similarly would rather be somewhere else, but he can't give that impression here. Fae are a catty bunch, he can't give them that ammunition.

So here he is, and he wears the 'gracious host' costume with an ease that might be disconcerting for someone who's a little less performative.

"How are you finding the party?"

Finnick's mask is holding up well and he smiles graciously when Eames approaches him. The smile turns wry when Eames asks him how he's finding the party, but his eyes still twinkle happily as he looks around.

"Long," he says, "but it is nice. I much prefer it to a hunt."

Eames hums softly, indicating his agreement on both points, "they're tedious at the best of times. I haven't joined one in decades."

He glances aside, at a couple of fae deep in conversation, and then he looks back to Finnick with a smirk and a raised eyebrow, "I hear the gossip mill is going wild with rumours about why I refused to have one this year."

"Mm, plenty of stories floating around," Finnick says lightly. "A lot of details to make them sound more legitimate, but the gist is that you like the humans more than you like us."

Eames actually barks a laugh at that, seemingly genuinely amused, "apparently I'm the only person in the entire court who finds them impossibly boring."

Maybe if it was vampires, that could be fun. But things are too tense right now to rock that particular boat.

"Really?" Finnick asks, raising an eyebrow at Eames even though he's not that surprised. Finnick can't claim to share the sentiment, given that most of his live revolves around one particular human now. That's not really relevant, though.

"You spend an awful lot of time here."

"They have internet on this side." And how can anyone argue with that?

Finnick laughs softly and nods in agreement. He spends enough time in the mortal world that he's almost taken the internet for granted, but he supposes it is a luxury that Faery can't quite match.

"Well, whether you called off the hunt because you love humans or not, I much prefer this to having to worry about Annie whenever the court decides it's redhead season, so I must thank you for that much."

Redheads are a popular autumn choice, it's true. Eames can't say that's not something he considered, but it was largely the overwhelming tedium of the hunts that made him cancel this one. Even if people would rather think he has some kind of ridiculous love for the humans as a whole.

"I can't guarantee anything come Samhain or Yule, but she'll be safe tonight."

Finnick nods in understanding. "We're used to it anyway," he says lightly. But enough about that. Finnick decides it's time to change the subject just as swiftly as he brought it up.

"Are you enjoying your new position?"

"Nobody demands I show them how to use smartphones anymore," Eames says with a wry smile. He's not a fan of the limelight, but in terms of being called to deal with petty issues, it's pretty cool how that doesn't happen anymopre.

Finnick smiles knowingly. "Me neither," he says, a little hesitant. He says it like he's trying to be relieved as well, but his expression dampens noticeably as he feels a surge of shame at having lost his title. All of a sudden he's self-conscious again, like he's worried all these fae are talking behind his back. He was only a minor lord, it's not like many of them even pay attention to that stuff, but a few must have noticed. Surely Eames did.

Eames noticed, but Finnick's life is none of his business and he's not about to tease him about it; for all he knows, Finnick could've chosen to step down. Though, judging by the look on his face right now, Eames would guess that's not the case.

"You okay?" He asks, less out of concern and more as a way to let Finnick know his mask is slipping.

Finnick has to take a moment to think about the question. He's not sure he's ever entirely okay, but right now is not the moment for that. "I'll be fine," he says, trying to sound convincing. He feels he should explain himself, so he goes on, "I spent so much time hiding at home that they stripped me of my title. It's embarrassing."

"Don't worry about it." Eames lofts his eyebrows with a smirk, glancing around before leaning in a little toward Finnick, "I'm pretty sure all the gossip hounds here care more about trying to find embarrassing stories about me than anyone else here."

The corners of Finnick's lips twist into a wry smile. "Well, you are the host, after all."

He takes a pull of his drink and and looks around as if he's trying to watch out for these so-called gossip hounds. "Are you worried? Surely we all have things to hide as the centuries roll on."

"Nah," the amused look on his face doesn't go anywhere-- sure there's things he'd prefer didn't get out, but the only people here who could actually hurt him would be doing it with a side of mutually assured destruction.

"I keep my secrets locked up pretty tight."

"Everyone has a weak link," Finnick says, conversationally. He's not trying to say Eames isn't good at keeping his secrets but he is quite convinced of the idea that no one's secrets are 100% safe.

That makes him laugh, soft and short, and he tips his head thoughtfully. Finnick's right, of course, and there's a reason Eames prefers not to have too many people involved in any one thing, but there's still enough people here who know him and things he's done that maybe he should be a little concerned.

Should be, but he's not.

"Perhaps," he says, "but I doubt anyone here has what it takes to break them."

Finnick smiles, amused and a little impressed by Eames' confidence. He wishes he had some of that for himself but paranoia has worked in his favour as well.

"Well, I should leave you to your hosting," he says.

MABON } 22nd September

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