undergrounds | Small Town Celebrities party log for Sept17-Oct6

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Small Town Celebrities party log for Sept17-Oct6

The Redbright students clearly aren't getting enough homework if they have the time to start following their favorite members of supernatural society around for the chance at getting The Perfect Shot of them looking hot. It starts slow and small, for the first week, anyway. Just a random person pulling out their phone and taking a quick shot. Can't even be sure it was you they were photographing. By the five days in, though, they've started making a game of it. Groups of two and three going out together. Following people for a while. Having the audacity to wave when they're looked at. Some even invite their target to take a picture with them and their friends. (If you say yes to that, please do flex a little.)

Ratings on the website change on a day to day basis and currently both Redbright Professors and the Hillingdon Clan lists are the current most popular due to the territory change over and general familiarity with the groups.

Hans Estergaard had been reigning supreme as #1 in Hillingdon since he had the audacity to challenge Sylvia for her seat on the council. An unprecedented length of time! (It's like the students enjoy the idea of someone standing up to Sylvia, the person ultimately in charge of telling them what to do. Go figure.)

Most factions are getting more attention from these folks, though. They really have a lot of time on their hands.

[[ooc: post around like it's a party log. If you want an npc bothering you and want me to play them, put NPC request in the subject line.]]

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Caroline had first noticed them a few days ago, when she was out exploring the Haringey area, in her continuing efforts to get to know the city. At the time, she hadn't been sure if the group was taking pictures of her or just what was around her. And so she'd gone about her business and put them out of mind.

Then it happened again the next day, when she comes back to to check out a few interesting places she spotted earlier. It was a different group this time, but the same thing happened. She even lead them on a little chase, just to be sure they were really following her.

They really were.

It's almost enough to make her reconsider checking out Barnet next but she decided to go ahead and try it. And, of course, there they were again. This group even waved. Caroline declined to wave back, instead hurrying along her way, not quite watching where she was going.

Do to generally being less than connected to the rest of the world, it had taken Sirius a bit of time to learn about these rankings. He'd mostly just chanced upon it after hearing some hunters discussing the ratings, and figured he ought to check them out himself. If there were pictures of him circulating in this manner, that wasn't good and he should probably figure out how to put a stop to it.

"This can't be right," he says, mostly to himself. However, it's hard to tell if he's referring to the pictures, or his rating.

Elaine hasn't been a part of the supernatural community as long as some, but she's become involved in a big way -- despite being shy and reclusive she's a good student. She spends a lot of her spare time studying and researching online, catching up on everything she's missed, and that's how she stumbles on the NHILF forums.

What surprises her is that she recognises someone.

The list of Daybreak members isn't quite as lengthy as some, a lot of Daybreak members are slightly older members of the community -- and many a little intimidating to approach -- but Lancelot stands out to her. She remembers meeting him once before. It had been a short meeting, but one that had stuck with her. She'd been caught in one of the sudden Autumnal bursts of rain and he'd stopped beside her with his umbrella, held it over her and asked her where she was heading -- escorted her as far as the station.

She makes it her business to do two things -- one, to get him higher up this list like he deserves and, secondly... to work out the best way to meet him again.

---

i)

Lancelot still has an every day job as well as his work as a Guardian, and he's out and about in his reflective yellow Community Officer jacket on Friday in the bright sunshine. Lily isn't with him, but he does have a different shadow. A woman with red curls is somewhat conspicuously watching him as he adjusts his radio and turns into a sandwich shop, stands in line chatting and finally emerges again something to eat.

She's still watching him as he continues down the road, and after a moment begins to walk after him. Her phone is out, and she's typing rapidly as she moves -- dodging with the expert air of someone who does this quite a lot. Stopping just a little distance away as he waits at a crossing she takes a picture, chewing her lip, and he finally senses something. Looks up and over in her direction vaguely. She darts away into the crowd and he's left standing at the crossroads, unsure if he's missed anything. Did he imagine it?

ii)

The second time he catches her he's leaving his other job. Lancelot has been working late, trying to catch up still on things he missed when he had time off after Raymond's little incident. He's tired, but even tired Lancelot is aware of his surroundings. Partly due to the fact that he's a Meta Human, and partly due to his nerves and general paranoia being a touch elevated after being kidnapped.

He pauses a moment on the steps, glances around warily and begins to pocket the phone he'd been fiddling with. It's dark, and Elaine is hiding well enough, but his senses are sparking the way they do when something is going on.

"Who's there?" he tries, because even if it's a not friendly he'd rather see who he's dealing with. He's had this nagging feeling of being followed for a few days now, and in truth he's starting to wonder if it's all in his head.

iii) -- for Faolan

It's been an odd few... well, months truth be told. Yet Lancelot is more than determined to have at least one day where nothing unfortunate or strange happens.

If that will be today, well, he isn't quite sure. Faolan had suggested they meet up for dinner, and Lancelot dresses to the smart-casual instruction he is given and heads out to meet him outside the cafe Faolan has chosen. Why Faolan has decided it is to be a surprise Lancelot isn't sure, but neither does he particularly mind. He's tidied himself up, dark navy jeans and a thin, black v-neck sweater with a light coat done up in fear of potential rain. He's early, so Lancelot fully expects to be standing around for at least a few minutes, but he doesn't mind that. The trains can be so predictable that he'd rather be early than late.

Edited 2016-09-26 01:42 (UTC)

Well, Lancelot had agreed to this which was more than Faolan had anticipated. It leaves him puzzled whether the other man had known just what he had been asking when he had suggested dinner together however. He's made the offer in the past after all, a demonstration of his friendly affection for the other man. But it hasn't been friendship that had spurred him into asking this time. And the readiness with which the other man had agreed (even despite the state he had been in at the time) leaves Faolan questioning.

Still, he's going ahead with it. Dressed up himself this time as well, in black jeans, a button-down shirt and a nicer black leather jacket than the usual beaten brown one he wore almost every other day. (One might say that that jacket is his dress leathers.) He's picked what he has researched to be as perfect a restaurant as it can be given the circumstances and as he makes his way to the meeting spot he's going through every possible worst case scenario to try and prepare for them.

He grows distracted of course by the fact that Lancelot has already beat him there. "Hey," he says, as nonchalant as he can be given the circumstances. "You're here early."

He wrinkles his nose a little at that, gives a minute shrug.

"The trains aren't running out of Richmond today. I had to take a bus part of the way, so left early."

Since a bus always takes at least twice, sometimes three times as long as the trains do. They have to deal with traffic and weave through all the little roads.

"I made it, though! So, where are we going?"

What's the surprise? He's curious, and for some reason the only suggestion his brain had found was something along the lines of 'secret dog themed cafe?'

Oliver has not had this issue. One of the upsides of being normal. Of course, he's not immune to being run into by people trying to hurry by them without being disturbed. He winces at the impact, immediately stepping back with wide eyes so he's not in her space.

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry."

"No," Caroline says quickly, "it was my fault. I wasn't looking where I was going. Sorry."

She glances back, just in time to see a flash going off in her direction. She makes a small noise of disgust, then turns back to the person she just nearly ran over. "Sorry, that wasn't directly at you." She sighs heavily. "I'm just having an odd night."

"That's okay. I can't blame you for being distracted."

He can see the flash, and despite not being a target he's not oblivious to what's been going on. He could probably even do something about it, but revealing the extent of his ability to illegally hack things to a total stranger seems a bad idea. That doesn't mean he doesn't feel bad about her having to put up with it.

"They're jerks. They'll get bored of it."

"Wait ... do you know what's going on?" It would be great to finally get an answer about that. And figure out where she could go to explore the city in peace.

Oh. She doesn't know, does she? He falters, not especially wanting to be the one who explains it, but he's already made it obvious he gets it, hasn't he?

"Have you seen the website?" he asks, though he thinks he knows the answer to that already.

There was a website. A website with pictures, presumably. Of her. This was not exactly reassuring information.

"No, I haven't," she says as she pulls out her phone. "What's the address?"

He recites the address easily, glancing over at the group who are still hovering from a short distance. They're still taking pictures. He guesses he's going to end up on there after all.

"It's the Redbright kids," he says by way of explanation as he waits for the site to load and her to see it.

Things are beginning to actually make sense, which is nice. If those are Redbright students, then they must be supernatural of some sort. Which also meant that they have figured out that she is too.

Finally the site loads on her phone. She stars at it for a moment, then laughs. "Okay, wow. These guys have too much free time on their hands." A website about supernatural hotties.

Actually, she realizes, it might be helpful for her to look at this thing. Then she'll know a few more of the supernatural faces around town.

"It's just down the road," Faolan replies, and doesn't quite answer the question directly. "Not too far to walk. I thought that this might be a better meeting spot. Especially," he raises his eyebrows pointedly at the other man, "in case I didn't end up being the first one to get here." It was still a few minutes before their appointed meeting time after all, but that didn't really matter. It's better than to be left waiting and growing increasingly cold feed as he does.

"Here," he sticks his hands in his pockets and nods them forwards, starting off down the way himself. "This way." The hands in his pockets are of course to keep himself from fidgeting. Act natural, he tells himself. What would he normally be doing right now? Talking? He tries to strike up some sort of idle conversation.

"So," he starts, glancing sideways at the other man before deciding looking down the road before them is safer. "How...have you been?" Hardly a natural question -- they'd only seen each other at work the day before after all. Faolan kicks himself internally.

How has he been...? Lancelot blinks, trying to parse the question. In... general? It isn't as if they haven't seen each other recently. Just.... since the other day?

"Fine?" he hazards, then shrugs a little helplessly. "You haven't missed much. I spent most of the morning in the garden -- the mixture of sun and rain has made it go wild. I had to leave it for a few weeks because..." Lancelot hesitates, drags a hand out of a pocket and makes a lifting gesture with it. Arms. Hurting. "So I haven't had much time to tame it. Not that Lily minds, of course."

Weeds don't bother dogs.

Faolan's grateful that Lancelot doesn't question him too much, but then again, that's Lancelot. He seems to pretty much just go with the flow with just about everything that is thrown at him. It's both admirable and infuriating in equal measures, at times. At the last, however, Lancelot provides him with the topic that he's always certain will go over well with the other man. His dog.

"I hope that she's been behaving for you in the last while," he says. "Hasn't gone on too many muddy adventures before you were ready for that bath, or the likes..." He glances up at the other man again. "Then again, you could have called me over again, if you'd needed help wrangling her. I wouldn't have minded." He'd have been happy to help, in all honesty.

"She did not have much of a chance, unfortunately. I fear I will be making it up to her for some time."

His smile turns a little rueful at that, and Lancelot drops his eyes down to his feet for a moment as he walks.

"She was good, though. Perhaps she could sense something wasn't right. Animals can, I think, they seem to know -- or perhaps that's... just us projecting our way of thinking. I'd link to think she knew."

Either way, she was a very good dog. She always is! Just sometimes a little too enthusiastic about being good.

"I don't think that it's all that far-fetched to believe that she did," Faolan replies. "You have a special connection with her. You've had her for a while now, yeah? I've seen your photos," he points out, giving the other man a look. Honestly she might as well be the other man's child, for how proud he is of her. "Of course she understood enough to behave herself when you needed her to."

He shrugs slightly, continuing their walk and turning the pair of them down a side street as he does. "Of course, that doesn't mean that you couldn't spoil her a little. To make up for lost time, as you say. Have you ever tried baking for her? I know that there are dog-friendly recipes out there somewhere..." Maybe that would make a good gift, actually. Faolan makes a note to go looking sometime. A book of healthy recipes for dogs. He's sure that Lancelot would love it.

It's true, Lancelot adores his dog -- and Faolan has been in his house so he supposes he must have seen the photos he has of her. When she was smaller and fluffier, and as she grew bigger. He hadn't really thought about it before, but it makes sense.

Still, the answer Faolan gets is:

"Baking?"

Since, no, despite how much Lancelot fusses over his dog he has never gone so far as to bake for one. What would you even bake for a dog? He has no idea.

Edited (wrong icon) 2016-09-27 16:59 (UTC)

Faolan shrugs slightly, uncertain what the response means exactly, save for apparently he has suggested something apparently far-fetched. It isn't all that far-fetched, is it? Lancelot likes cooking. He likes his dog. Why wouldn't he like cooking for his dog? Crazy dog people do that sort of thing all the time. He's honestly rather surprised Lancelot doesn't.

"Well... Yeah," he replies. "Well, I suppose cooking in general, but. You know. Biscuits...? Are generally baked...?"

He tilts his head in thought, turning this over.

"Is that --" good for them, he wants to ask, but pet shops do sell dog biscuits. They're just different to the type people eat. So he cuts himself off, distracted as he dodges people on the pavement for a moment. "I suppose I never thought about it," he admits finally.

Lancelot's mind has now been opened to a whole new world of potential baking for animals. He is unsure how to handle this.

Daryl, not sure what was getting Sirius confused - and liking the guy just enough to quietly volunteer to help out on stuff without being asked - siddled up behind him. He leaned over the other shifter's shoulder, squinting at the screen. The crease in his brow deepened into a frown and he straightened up. Then he lightly slapped the back of Sirius' shoulder to catch his attention, "'s stupid shit. Ignore it."

"I'd like to, but I'm a bit concerned about how they got these pictures."

Mostly because he thought he was being careful when he went about his business. And if this fan club was following him, how difficult would it be for someone with ill intentions to do the same? Not to mention that none of them were any good, which was likely affecting his rank but he'll avoid saying anything about that.

Guinevere is a woman on a mission. Earlier in the week, one of her students, Finley Taylor, had been caught in possession of dark contraband. Now, his entire family is panicking, talking nonsense about protecting him from roving Guardian Death Squads™. In an effort to pull them all back from the edge, she has offered to stop by the Night Council Headquarters to speak with someone about his case. Now, she doesn’t expect to be told any specific details; those are privileged information. However, if she can find out how this sort of thing is usually handled, then hopefully she could use that information to allay the worst of their fears.

As luck would have it, Gwen is able to find a very understanding guardian, whose manner is stern but also reassuring. More importantly, this guardian is willing to patiently answer all of her questions, even the ridiculous ones that Finley’s mother has ‘helpfully’ suggested. After taking down several pages of notes and acquiring a small folder of official Night Council literature, Guinevere thanks the woman for her time before making her way out of the building.

Distracted by the act of juggling a multitude of items while trying to answer another paranoid text from Mrs. Taylor, Gwen fails to notice the person standing directly in her path. Sadly, she only realizes this mistake at the moment of contact, the jolt of which causes her to lose hold of everything she’s carrying. The notebook, folder, loose papers, and her phone all fly in different directions.

“Oh! Sorry!” Guinevere drops to her knees, scrambling to pick up everything. “That was my fault. I really should’ve been paying more attention.”

That brought Daryl up short and he tilted his head at the man. "Why? You been tryin' to hide from someone?"

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Page 1 of 11

Small Town Celebrities party log for Sept17-Oct6

OTA, in Barnet territory

OTA; Hillingdon House

SEMI-OPEN; Ft. Elaine of Corbenic

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