Botching it in Bromley (Territory Claim)

[bellbound]

They've done their research. They know where the fae in Bromley are hiding out, their movements, their numbers. As far as intelligence gathering goes, it's not a bad effort. They have a plan too. This at least is an improvement over some past witches that Mogget could mention, though in his opinion the plan is rather crude. Samantha could get a lot more resistance than she bargained for.

Which, it turns out, is exactly the case. Of course, Mogget is the one on the ground with the other witches, trying to control a situation that swiftly spirals out of control. Samantha is nowhere to be seen; she gets others to do her dirty work.

He's not looking forward to telling her what went wrong.

[ooc: Planning post here, individual threads for each day below! Feel free to make your own subthreads and let me know if you have any questions!]

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[bellbound]

Meanwhile, Mogget is watching from the roof of the building above them, listening to every word. It looks like there's going to be a confrontation rather than a hunt (pity, those are more fun), so all he has to do is stick around to see how it goes. Then he'll move on.

[injectablefame]

Party nods, but there's really no safe way to tell Finnick that he wants the same thing. He's still trying to toe the line of everyone's expectations from his side. All he can offer is pulled punches and a slightly slower stride than he's really capable of.

"Fair enough." His grip tightens on his crow bar. "But you know I can't just let you walk away without a scratch."

There are certainly some people he'd risk that for, but he's not close enough with any of the Fae he's met to consider putting them above his pack.

[thelittlemerman]

Finnick lets out a soft, dry laugh, the sarcastic kind as he turns the trident over in his hand restlessly.

"I guess you could try," he says. He doesn't expect any kindness from any wolves and doesn't suspect anyone's listening in either way. He can sense magic all around them, from his fellow fae in the borough, from the invading witches, and yes even from Party's packmates. Whether or not Party's acting for an eavesdropper doesn't even cross his mind and he can only assume that all the wolves are just obeying the witches they've decided to help. The fools.

[injectablefame]

Party's at least a little sure that he's maybe about to get his own ass handed to him, but there's not much he can do about that. He's not going to run and he's not going to let Finnick walk away either. The only other option is to fight and assume they're both strong enough to walk away afterwards. It's not an unreasonable assumption unless Finnick's gunning to kill and if that's the case, Party's not pulling his punches.

"Gonna have to." He walks towards Finnick, crow bar still in hand and hoping that Finnick's not feeling too murderous. He's already over all of this shit.

[thelittlemerman]

He knows the iron is going to burn if it touches him, so his eyes are warily on that as Party approaches. That's the first priority - he can recover from any punches Party lands but the crowbar could disable him with a few blows. That's why he waits for the wolf to close some of the distance between them so he only has to take one step as he lunges for him and swings up quickly with the handle of his trident, aiming for his wrist with enough speed and force to hopefully knock the crowbar and maybe do a little damage to the hand.

[injectablefame]

Party tries to parry the blow, but his fighting style is more bar fight than formal fencing and he's only successful in deflecting some of the force. It still hits his arm and he flinches but doesn't loosen his grip. All the bar fights have made him pretty good at ignoring pain, even if only temporarily, but he'll be sporting a bruise later.

His eyes don't leave Finnick's face as he brings his arm back and swings the crowbar at Finnick. There's not a lot of real aim to it, because he's not trying to get any critical blows in, but he's not pulling it, either.

[thelittlemerman]

Finnick has trained. He knows how to make the trident an extension of himself and he knows how to anticipate moves. Party may be stronger than him - Finnick only has the strength of a relatively fit human - but Finnick knows how to dodge and block and redirect. He does that now, flowing directly from the follow-through of his first swing to try and catch the crowbar between the prongs of his trident and wrench it away. This close he can almost feel it already, but maybe that's the adrenaline playing tricks on him.

[bellbound]

Mogget watches for long enough to see that the Seelie appears to be outmatching the wolf, at least in terms of skill. He needs more help. The cat darts away from the roof, heading back towards the party of witches. He'll return with back-up very soon, and this time it will be of the magical kind.

[injectablefame]

The force has Party losing his grip on the bar, which is just as well. He's a lot more comfortable fighting without it, anyway. Without missing a beat, he sidesteps the trident and takes a swing at Finnick with his fist.

[thelittlemerman]

Finnick knew he was leaving himself open by focusing on the crowbar, but the fist hurts a lot less than the iron would. He grunts in pain regardless and takes a step back to steady himself and dodge another punch if it's on its way, putting both hands on his trident to hold it out and keep the wolf from getting too close.

[injectablefame]

Party's fight style is all fury and no form. Without an improvised weapon in reach, he's got his fists and his legs and kicking isn't really the most convenient at this juncture, so he keeps with the punching if he can get Finnick into reach. He's quick on his feet for a perpetually drunk kid, but he's hardly graceful and where someone else who's more okay with locking fae in cages might have been trying to pin Finnick against the back of the alley, he's definitely trying to chase Finnick out of it instead.