Spycat

[bellbound]

It's been decades since Mogget has wandered around London this freely. It's almost like discovering the city all over again. At first he sticks to exploring mainly at night, keeping his nose to the ground and sniffing out magical activity. During the day he switches to crow form for a bird's eye view of the city, updating the mental map in his head. He has a specific mission, however, and so in the latter half of the month he begins to target certain locations:

Bromley and Bexley
Despite being in enemy territory, Mogget trots through the suburbs as if he has every right to be here. The fae presence is strong and every once in a while he senses a door to the Other Realm and raises his hackles, approaching with caution. While he may sniff around the edges of a door, he will never go through; that is forbidden to him.

But he's not here looking for doors. He's here to scope out the area and identify the resident fae. Maybe even talk to some of them, if they will talk to him.

Hillingdon House (17th-19th February)
Mogget hangs around the house for an entire weekend, watching who comes and goes. He's here to talk to the hunters, although you might not believe it if you find him in the kitchen, but anyone who seems like a promising prospect will hear a voice at their feet:

"Looking for work?"

Abbott Mill, The East End Den (around end February)
Mogget hates dogs. He doesn't want to be here, his small white cat face wrinkled in disgust at the stench of werewolf that permeates this place, but he's under orders and so he must pad with great caution into the den.

He's here to deliver a message to the alpha, Katherine Moore. Hopefully that won't take long and then he can just sneak his way back out without being noticed...

Comments

[specifiercity]

"Arthur," he says. His tone is equal parts bored and impatient, an efficient way to weed out people who aren't serious enough to demand his attention for any significant length of time. He checks his phone as if he's waiting for an important e-mail or something and then looks back at the cat.

"You're not here on anyone's behalf?"

[bellbound]

"I didn't say whether I was." He winds around the vase, a petal falling on his head. The flowers are starting to wilt. They could really do with replacing. "I'm looking for a fae hunter. I don't suppose you qualify?"

He sounds dubious, mostly because Arthur doesn't smell like anything other than human and humans are generally terrible at identifying fae. They're useless at most things, really, though he'd expect a human in this place to be rather more aware of supernatural goings-on.

[specifiercity]

Arthur's familiar enough with people dodging answers, but still all he knows for sure is that the cat doesn't want to answer that question, even if he suspects he knows what the cat doesn't want him to.

"We mostly hunt vampires here," he says, "but it depends on the job and how much money's on the table."

[bellbound]

"A wise strategy." He has no love lost for vampires and their ilk. "As for the job, there's no killing required. I require reconnaissance in fae territory. Hideouts, movements, defences, that sort of thing. The pay is in line with work of this type, plus a bonus if you can provide names of individuals. The more the better."

He flicks his ear and the petal falls off, floating down to the floor.

[specifiercity]

Arthur doesn't show much in the way of a reaction to that, crossing his arms and leaning his shoulder against the wall near the table Mogget's sitting on. "Why?" he asks flatly, like it's a statement rather than a question.

[bellbound]

"Does it matter? I thought you hunter types followed the money."

His tone is nonchalant. Really, they're not paying anyone in Hillingdon to ask questions. They'll be paid to carry out the task as required.

[specifiercity]

"Morality clause," Arthur says, equally nonchalant. "I call jobs off if I don't like them. I make enough money hunting people who actually deserve it."

[bellbound]

Oh, he's one of those types. The hunters who believe they're doing what they do for great justice or some such. Ridding the world of vampires etc etc. Mogget has worked with a number of witches like that in his time.

He could make a scathing comment about playing the morality card but he decides he'd rather not bother. If Arthur is a dead end, there are bound to be others willing to make a deal.

"In that case I require a hunter who either despises fae or doesn't care. Any suggestions?"

[specifiercity]

"We don't exactly keep detailed personnel files around here," Arthur says with a dry laugh. He really can't think of anyone he knows here who dislikes fae, but he can think of more than a few who'd do it for the money. That doesn't mean he has to point Mogget in the right direction. He's only a simple human who isn't bound to tell the truth.

"Guess you'll just have to keep asking around."

[bellbound]

Mogget sighs, which sounds very much like a hiss. Fine. He won't bother wasting his time any longer. He turns and jumps off the table, sauntering off to the next room.

The vase wobbles, but remains standing.