undergrounds | MABON } 22nd September

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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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"You're already Faolan. I don't think you'll ever be anything but Faolan, to me. Just as I'd like to think I'll always be Lancelot to you. The titles don't matter so much, I think."

The person behind the title is what matters. They don't change. Faolan hasn't changed from the person he first met running from a werewolf.

'I don't think you'll ever be anything but Faolan to me,' the other man had said, and there was something inside of him that had tightened, twinged, for just the slightest of moments. It isn't what Lancelot had meant after all, but. He couldn't help but hear it. If only for a few moments.

Faolan forces himself to take a deep breath and let it pass. "You are," he confirms, after a moment. "You will be." He shrugs slightly, picking at his plate as he continues, "I don't know that anyone but 'Lancelot' would put up with me, all things considered."

"You sell yourself too short, plenty of people would given the chance. You have to admit, you don't give anyone much of a chance."

Faolan is always working, after all, and rarely seems to socialise much if he can avoid it. He isn't exactly drowning himself in opportunities to make friends and get to know people, but so long as Faolan is happy he supposes that's fine. He's made the effort today at least, for whatever reason.

He sobers slightly (further) at that. Shrugging for a moment, because he hardly thinks here and now is the time to get into what he really thinks about himself. That there are reasons that he doesn't give anyone much of a chance, and he can only imagine what Lancelot might think of him if he knew. Knew that he didn't really consider himself worth befriending. Convinced that in all honesty getting to know him is more of a burden than anything, a curse, and most of the world is better off without it. Look at how much trouble he's put Lancelot through already.

"I recognize that I'm not very promising friend material and have decided to spare them their efforts," he explains instead. Which is the truth of course, as far as Faolan sees it, while also managing to keep the self-deprecation to as much of a minimum as he can.

'Not very promising friend material'? Lancelot wrinkles his nose at that, not liking the self-deprecation in it.

"You've been a good friend to me, Faolan. You've helped me more than once. You've saved my life more than once. Who am I to ask more than that in a friend?"

It certainly seems more than good enough to him. What more can he possibly ask? When Faolan has been by his side through everything, tended to his wounds, worried for him, brought him gifts and never asked for anything in return. Who is he to say Faolan is a poor friend? The truth is the opposite.

Faolan huffs out something of a laugh, although it's not exactly a happy sound, shaking his head as he does and reaching for his drink to take a healthy swallow of it. "I'm not sure that you haven't gotten a better experience of me than the average layman might," Faolan responds, before shrugging slightly. He doesn't want to get into an argument about this. He doesn't want to insist and demonstrate to the other man how little he truly thinks of himself in turn.

He glances up at the other man after a moment. "Thank you, though," he says. Because it needs said, he thinks. "For... For being a good friend for me in turn. Despite..." He shrugs slightly. "Despite it all, I suppose. Just. Thank you."

There's something slightly uncomfortable about this, about the way that Faolan is rejecting any idea that he's worth something. Yet Lancelot doesn't want to be mired in a lengthy conversation about this either, because that is probably even less comfortable.

"Well," he tries, "you're welcome. I wouldn't say it's been a hardship, but, if you will insist on giving me credit."

Lancelot shrugs, lifts a the bottle he snagged to Faolan before opening it to take a sip.

"Who am I to reject it?"

Faolan shrugs slightly, raising his drink in turn with the other man's mock toast before kicking back another healthy swallow or two. Hoping it will help him relax a little. It would be nice to have a good time with the other man without having to feel like he's making some sort of faux pas every other step.

"It's odd," Faolan says, gently directing their conversation away from his awkwardness for the time being (he hopes). He glances up at Lancelot and flicks him a smile before looking back at his plate and smirking wryly. "It's odd to be out with you like this, outside of work, and not have to vie for your attentions against a certain canine friend of ours."

"Vying for my attentions? Were you hoping I'd feed you under the table and scratch you behind the ears?"

His lips flick into a teasing smile as he snags a piece of food from his plate, which ends up being a thick slice of carrot, and crunches thoughtfully. He probably can't really continue that thought without it sounding seven types of inappropriate, but it amuses him all the same.

Faolan raises his eyebrows at that slightly, and he watches Lancelot crunching on his carrot slice, and before he knows it he's opening his mouth to respond before his brain has quite caught up with the rest of him.

"That depends, are you offering?" he asks, his face the picture of wry, perhaps somewhat flirtatious innocence, up until the moment that he realizes what exactly he's doing.

"I think we'd cause a stir," Lancelot answers easily. "That, and you might find I eat all the good food while you wait for me to share."

Lily isn't fed from the table, after all, despite the teasing. He hasn't the habit of it! He'd probably forget! A good scratching, though, that much he can definitely do.

Faolan can't help but huff out a laugh at that. Trust Lancelot to not interpret anything he said in an awkward way and instead continue it along in the innocent line of the dog comparison.

"Fair enough, I suppose," he replies. Although it's true, being stingy with the table scraps doesn't negate the possibility of a good head scratch. Though Lancelot's right there as well. They would definitely cause something of a scene, here and now. He's only going to imagine how jealous anyone else might get as well.

"I did think about bringing her, but... well, I thought there might be a risk of this getting lively if someone had a falling out. That, and she gets tired around big groups of people. So many new things to smell and people to meet. So she's with a sitter for the night. A little more peaceful for her."

Even if she probably is quietly waiting for him to come back. Not very patiently, but as patiently as she can manage.

Faolan nods slightly. "More peaceful for her yes. Perhaps not as much so for you though. You were hoping to keep an eye on things you said. And what were you going to do if something did go south?" He raises an eyebrow at the other man.

"Perhaps it's lucky that you have me here with you now then," he adds,airily. "To be there for you if you need backup, and to help you try and enjoy yourself if you don't. How's it sound, then?" he asks, shooting the other man something of s wry grin and raising his drink to his lips to take another sip. Ironic, considering Faolan isn't exactly the party type himself after all.

What was he planning to do? Well, handle it. The question throws momentarily, but then the follow up clarifies a little.

"I'd like to think I don't need help enjoy myself," he hedges, "but I suppose I can't say no to the offer of backup. Although I hope we don't need it. There's enough people here to make it difficult if fae magic makes things go awry."

"Perhaps there are," Faolan says, glancing around at the crowd and feeling grateful that they are all far away over there and nowhere near enough to be able to hear him as he continues. "And perhaps you don't need my help, no. But you were the one who suggested that life was more exciting when I was about, didn't you?"

He surges forward, lest giving himself too much time to think will make him think better of his actions. "Come to dinner with me? Not now of course, but. Next week, maybe? Just the two of us." He flicks the other man something of a soft, timid smile even as he can feel his stomach churning with anxiety -- god what is be doing, is it the alcohol that put him up to this, what? "A night out to enjoy together, just you and me..."

Dinner? Lancelot blinks a moment, tilts his head.

"It'd be more my style than this, I suppose. Did you have somewhere in mind?"

Maybe Faolan found a new restaurant he really wanted to try? Or, perhaps, just wanted to pay him back for all the times he cooked.

Faolan isn't certain what sort of reaction he had expected, but his heart thuds suddenly in his chest at the fact that Lancelot hadn't completely brushed his request off. He's sure it's nothing. It has to be nothing. It is nothing...right?

He swallows convulsively before forcing himself to speak up and answer the question, shrugging slightly. "Somewhere that I could enjoy your company and you could enjoy yourself," he says, simply. "It is to be your evening, Lancelot. At least, I will do my best to make it so. You deserve no less than that much."

He wrinkles his nose slightly at that, feeling it something of a non-answer, and takes a sip of his drink.

"Picking a type of restaurant at least might narrow that down. My company works just as well in McDonalds as it does in Carluccios, but I'm assuming you won't be picking the former?"

It's Faolan's turn to make something of a face now.

"We are not going to a McDonalds," he confirms, just in case Lancelot was worried about as much. He hasn't really decided on the rest of it, but there's time. He picks up his own drink, swirling it slightly before he says, "I've. I think I've got a place in mind. But I need to make arrangements for it. I'd rather, well. I'd rather it be a surprise, I think." Is that too cheesy? Maybe it is, isn't it? Oh well, it's too late to back off on it now that he's said as much.

A surprise? Lancelot shrugs after a moment.

"Well, a surprise it is then. Just make sure you tell me where and when to meet you, or it won't be a very successful surprise."

He doesn't mind a surprise in principle, so long as it's only location. It will be significantly easier if he knows when so he can make sure he isn't working.

He nods slightly. "I'll let you know," he confirms. When he's got it all figured out, of course. It had been something of a spur of the moment decision to ask, but he figures he has time. They should probably pick a date though, and sooner rather than later, if plans are to be adjusted for it.

"What about next Friday? Are you working?" he asks. "Ehm, the evening, that is? Or. Is there a day that would work better for you?" Part of the perks of being Head of Hillingdon is the fact that he is in charge of his own schedule. As far as Hillingdon is concerned, at any rate.

"I probably am," he admits, setting aside his drink and picking at a piece of food thoughtfully. "But I can leave early. Actually, I might just take an extra day off anyway." He wrinkles his nose, chewing on a piece of sandwich for a moment. "The flat is all a bit of a mess, and Lily could probably do with a relatively safe adventure. She's been cooped up with me struggling with everything."

The garden needs tidying, everything needs moving to clean properly, and he has a few loads of washing to do on top of all that...

"Friday evening then?" Faolan asks. He flicks something of a nervous smile at the other man. "After you've gotten all of that done, of course. I wouldn't want to deprive Lily of her adventure."

Whatever that might entail. If it's anything like the adventures she's previously been on, he might have to put time aside to clean her up afterwards as well.

The perils of having a white dog, Faolan. They are great.

"Sure," he says, offering a small smile back. "Why not? If I tire her out enough she'll just sleep the evening away anyway. I think that earns me a meal."

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MABON } 22nd September

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