[closed to Eames]

[injectablefame]

Party might not come off as being traditionally thoughtful, but he'd like to think that when it counts, he's a good guy. As far as he's concerned, his only enemies in the supernatural community are the ones who directly threaten peace between everyone, even if he kind of hates half the vampires in town at this rate. A change was needed and the atmosphere lately has left him optimistic and also feeling a need to encourage a little more peace and a little less separation, but then maybe he's also just projecting some personal feelings post-Halloween, because as November wears on, he starts to realize that this will be his first ever Thanksgiving away from his family with no contact.

He'd been working on holiday gifts for the friends he has made so far when he realizes that this particular painting isn't for someone who is quite yet a friend, but who has acted certainly as an ally of sorts in the months of East End losing ground to the vampires.

Once he's finished the small painting of a neon forest, he wraps it carefully in brown butcher's paper and heads to the Fae territory bundled in a leather jacket and his least ratty jeans to see if he can't track Eames down. Maybe it will take a few days on foot and a few questions asked of strangers, but he's found that with a bit of persistence, he can usually get the job done when he really wants to.

Comments

[falsify]

Eames doesn't live out here, but with everything going on, he's been spending a lot of time out in these two boroughs making sure people are still alive and all that. Not been getting any trouble from vampires since the changeover, all that good stuff.

There's a nice little bar out on the edge of Bexley, the kind of fringe neighbourhood where people are basically pretending they live in London still, and it's a quiet place where he can meet people to talk and get a cheap drink. Fae-owned, of course. He doesn't actually like the place much, but he does what he can not to let that show.

The werewolf entering catches Boxer's attention first, the dog's ears perking as he suddenly sits up and looks at the door, watching carefully. A few people wrinkle their noses in distaste at the guy, but for the most part no one cares. He's not a vampire and he's not a witch, there's no real reason to be on guard. Eames, for his part, looks over in the same direction with a curious expression as he tries to decide if he knows this guy.

He doesn't, as it happens, so he just turns back to the conversation he's not really invested in anyway. Absently putting a hand on Boxer's collar in case he gets agitated.