A romantic," said Nightingale. "The most dangerous people on earth. - Ben Aaronovitch

It’s one of those weird truths you learn early on as police that quite a high percentage of the public have all the survival instinct of a moth in a candle factory. They run the wrong way, they refuse to move, some will run toward the danger, and others will instantly whip out their phones and take footage.

Nightingale had taught me to be cautious of the early sources. “A great deal of it is accurate,” he said. “And a great deal is less so. Unfortunately it can be difficult to determine which is which.”

I asked whether the High Fae came into the pub.
Lulu gave me a crooked smile.
“High Fae?” She asked.
“You know,” I said. “The gentry, elves, those posh gits with extradimensional castles, stone spears and unicorns.”
“You mean them what step between worlds?”
“Could be.”
“Who walk on paths unseen and wax and wane with the moon?”
“Them sort of people,” I said. “Yeah.”
“Not in here, squire,” she said. “I run a respectable pub.”