pippa_flynn: (Default)
[personal profile] pippa_flynn
After weeks of agonizing about whether she was or wasn't pregnant with Akeem's baby, the relief of a definitive negative had done wonders for her. No longer was her skin stangely grey, no launger was she angular and gaunt.

Today Pippa was the picture of heath. Radiant with life and good cheer. She was dressed for shopping, a trim cut houndstooth single breasted coat with the hem of her red blouse peeking out from beneath the edge of the coat. Red leather gloves, black skin-tight leggings, and knee high black leather boots completed her look. Her hair was pinned up on each side and the luxurious weight of it tumbled down over her shoulders.

She paused as she exited Harrod's to check her phone. She had a few other places she simply must go, but for the most part she was simply shopping and finding joy in it. It had ben too long since she'd been able to empty her head and enjoy the banal.

"Oooh, I have enough stars for a free Grande. Starbucks next, it seems..."

She looked up and around, smiling at everyone around her. She desperately wanted to scream "I'M NOT PREGNANT!" to everyone, but she refrained. A smile would do.
wispofathing: (Black Eyes)
[personal profile] wispofathing
How do you bear it?

Curnen had never heard Peggy Goins sound so tired and broken in her life. Miss Peggy had always been vivacious and cheerful, but she was taking the murder of her husband on top of all the other recent mayhem in the Tufa community about as well as could be expected. Which was to say, not at all. Tragic love stories were not new to their people, but the murder of a loved one… well. Curnen was the last to face that, which was why she supposed the now widowed Mrs. Goins was calling her. She couldn’t remember much if anything of the conversation, but that question had stuck with her.

How do you bear it?

It had banged around in her dreams by night, and by morning the barriers that Curnen had consciously or unconsciously put between herself and her past were in splinters and everything in her that wasn’t nailed down was shaking loose--her father and her mother and her husband and her birth and her curse. She tried to go about her day. She tried to put it all away again where it was supposed to be, but there was too much, too much too fast.

How do you bear it?

Her legs gave out in the middle of the sidewalk and she fell to her knees screaming. Not crying. Screaming. Screaming fit to tear her throat raw. Her hands tangled in her hair and tore at it almost hard enough to rip it out by the fistful, and yet the pain of this did nothing to soothe the storm inside. If anything, it seemed all the more determined to make itself known, the air temperature around her dropping sharply into freezing cold.

And she screamed. And screamed. And screamed.

OTA

Feb. 9th, 2017 08:26 pm
pecked_by_birds: (intense)
[personal profile] pecked_by_birds
The past month- Months?- Had been strange. One night he'd found himself compelled to go out, as though something was calling to him. A silent siren song that had coaxed him into his car  and out into the country.

Where had he gone? What had he done?

Those were the questions he had to ask himself when he woke up in the middle of Hyde park in a rumpled suit and a brand new body. ...Possibly brand new. Certainly new to him in that moment, since he couldn't recall much of anything from the past few weeks. His head was pounding, and he was in agony. 

A large bird sat upon him. A hawk, he thought absently- Or maybe not. He couldn't seem to focus on it. Not when his gaze was so strongly drawn to all the blood. ...His blood.

"No," he said softly, trying to chase it away with a weak wave of his hand. "I'm free, you can't- He can't," he insisted, right before the world went dark. ...Not that it mattered. It would heal, he would heal. He always did. How else could the punishment continue?
hollow_moon: (chest)
[personal profile] hollow_moon
The past few weeks had been a whirlwind. Ever since he'd met Jack it was as though everything had changed, like he had changed. Val was giving up his museum, joining Jack's team. ...He had even opened his home to the other man, and things between them were moving fast. Insanely fast, if he was honest. So insane that anytime he slowed down to think about it, he found himself slightly shocked by his own behaviour.

It was good though, he felt good. Maybe a change was exactly what he'd needed. Maybe a bit of insanity wasn't such a bad thing.

A side effect of not having the museum to run meant he had more free nights, and though he often spent them with Jack, or at Torchwood, he was also back into a familiar habit of dropping by his favourite private club to spend time with the lads. Tonight was one of those nights, and he was nursing a few fingers of scotch while cousin Denton chatted his ear off about some bird he fancied and they watched Teddy and Kelly play the worst game of snooker ever.

"You know, it is good to see you here on a Saturday, Valentine. You never come 'round on a Saturday," Denton said cheerfully.

Val had been watching Teddy awkwardly stretch across the table on tiptoes, cue behind his back as he lined up a shot that would never sink a single ball. "It's Friday, Denton," Val replied, glancing over and raising a brow.

"No, it's definitely Saturday," Denton assured him seriously. "I know, because on a Friday I take Aunt Millie down to visit Uncle Randal's grave. I did that yesterday. So, today is Saturday. Can't pull one on me, Valentine," he grinned, tapping his nose and then pointing at Val.

Val, however, wasn't smiling. "Shit," he muttered, pulling out his phone and checking the time. How had he missed a whole bloody day? It wasn't like him to make such a huge error, and he downed his scotch in one go as he tried not to think too much on how he'd gotten so careless. "Sorry, Dent, must be off," he said, not waiting for a goodbye before headed for the door.

His car was parked just outside, but he knew there was no way he'd get home before he changed. It just wouldn't be possible, and the last thing he wanted was to turn while driving. No, best to risk it on foot- That's what he decided as he briskly took off towards his home. Again, he wouldn't be there before he turned, but if he was careful... Maybe he could make it home unseen.

...He barely made it halfway, ducking into an alley just as the wolf began to overpower him. He had more control now, could change at will, but this was happening now, tonight. He couldn't fight a full moon.  The wolf was coming.

The last thing he remembered was a dark alley and loud voices. The wolf's memories were always blurry... But there had been a bang, and then pain, and when he'd opened his eyes again he could still see the moon above him. It was there now too, full and watching over him as he lay bare in the alley, his human form restored and blood swiftly exiting his body thanks to a bullet hole in his left side. This wasn't where he'd turned though, his clothes and phone were stashed a block away, where he'd hoped he might retrieve them tomorrow- But even if they'd been near, he wasn't sure he'd have had the strength to call for help. As it was, he could only just barely croak out a shout- A garbled word, desperate and breathless, lost to the cold air of the night.

(As noted in the title, this is actually timed to the night of the 11th, when the moon is full). I'm posting it early as I know a lot of people don't have time to tag during the weekend. OTA, LT/ST welcome.)
curio_arcanum: (Default)
[personal profile] curio_arcanum
On grey February mornings Rebecca Sullivan was glad to be watching the world through the glass, from the warm safety of her shop. Curiosities, secondhand treasures, and New Age doodads crowded the dim shop like a riotously neglected garden of junk. Amid the this-and-that Rebecca had sprinkled a bit of magic. There were the four leaf clovers meticulously pressed in plastic that she had spent one frustrating afternoon picking and then enchanting with minor luck spells. St. Anthony pendants with a minor tracking spell on them--Rebecca was particularly fond of those, as it had taken her some time to make the magic not lock on to anything until the customer needed it. Bundled sage that really cleansed the house of lingering sadness, quartz points that made the bearer seem like a no-fun target to malicious spirits, beckoning cat statues with faint money attraction spells. Major magic wasn't something to spread around willy-nilly, but Rebecca thought that she might be making the world just a slightly better, happier place.

She was perched this morning on her usual stool which was rocked back onto only two feet, leaving her leaning against the wall. The counter was huge as they often were in these old shops and made of real solid walnut to boot. It was also covered, at the moment, with ring stains from coffee cups and one ancient cash register that hadn't worked since before Rebecca inherited the shop and flew here from America. She used a newfangled square reader and a tin box for cash, both stashed on a shelf below the counter. In the back room the coffee pot was making that whining noise, which Rebecca was happy to ignore. The good machine she kept upstairs in her apartment, and running up and down to use it would have required far, far too much work. What this crappy old machine spat out was basically coffee and that was good enough for her--she just needed a steady caffeine drip to get her through her day.

The jangle of the bell over the door startled her out of her reverie, and she spilled a bit of coffee over the rim as she placed the cup on the counter. With her best Midwest smile she looked up at the newcomer. "How can I help you today?"

Debut - OTA

Feb. 1st, 2017 09:24 pm
high_voltage_magic: (pic#11015433)
[personal profile] high_voltage_magic
Isaiah was getting settled in. He was already glad that his north-midwestern accent was getting him slightly confused for a Canadian from time-to-time. But he'd settled into his dorm at the start of the semester, and now, he'd finally gotten familiar enough with maps of the city and such that he was doing what he was meaning to do for awhile now, though he'd been buried in classwork.

Right now, though, he was on the lookout for anything and everything magical in nature. Some of his research suggested that some groups in Europe, especially England, were magically inclined and hoarded secrets. Granted, the boards he'd learned it from weren't particularly credible, but things on the internet weren't particularly credible about this sort of thing in the first place.

There wasn't any harm in looking, after all.

So it was on this particular afternoon that Isaiah, dressed in a black hooded sweatshirt, dark blue jeans, and black leather boots, was walking down the street, a silver thread (okay, it wasn't real silver, but surely silver colored thread was fine, too, right?) tied to his middle finger, suspending a small pendulum made of a chunk of what was probably authentic quartz. With the spell he'd cast before leaving his apartment, it should guide him to anything, or anyone, magical.

Granted, paying attention to the pendulum meant he wasn't paying attention to what was in front of him. So when he bumped into someone, he stumbled back a few steps, surprised, and raised his gaze. "Sorry," he said. "Didn't see you there."

ota

Feb. 1st, 2017 07:07 pm
winter_wisp: (think)
[personal profile] winter_wisp
Winter was exactly two and a half inches taller than he had been last week. That is, when he was at his mortal height- As a pixie he remained six inches tall. Which was very tall indeed for a pixie. As a mortal, however, he had grown from one-hundred and seventy five meters, to just over one-hundred and eighty. ...How terribly exciting, and potentially frightening!

He'd known he was taller, because he'd felt taller. He'd confirmed this feeling by standing beside the line he'd drawn on the wall to measure himself previously, while Philip had insisted that the line had somehow moved lower. After assuring the budgie that the line was not, in fact, a very stealthy worm (Philip had checked twice already, but needed confirmation), he'd drawn a new line and measured the difference.

After finding all his trousers a bit too short, and dithering over what colour his hair should be today (he eventually settled on white), Winter had set out into the world to do some shopping- And very definitely not think about the strange vision 'possibly not actually dead' Aspid had shown him of that terribly tall and warped future version of himself.

After a morning of popping in and out of shops in the high street, Winter had redressed in clothes that actually fit. Trousers that went past one's ankles weren't always the fashion, no, but given how cold it was at the moment it was preferable. Especially now while he was parked outside a cafe, nursing a coffee and, uh, reading. Like, a real and proper book. Winter read a lot actually, it just wasn't something people often caught him doing. Books were things he took to bed or curled up in the corner with during rare quiet moments. They were how he filled his time between the almost manic bursts of energy that usually made up his day. ...But today he was less manic and wild. He was shockingly calm, really.

A lot of what Winter read he selected based on their covers or titles, and today's selection was no different. He liked birds, and so To Kill A Mockingbird seemed worth a look. He wasn't sure why you would want to kill a mockingbird, but he didn't have to get very far into the book to realise that, like so many of the titles he selected, the title wasn't literal.

(OTA, Find Winter outside enjoying a coffee and getting lost in a classic. <3 Timed to late Wednesday evening, but it can be earlier if you like.)

OTA

Jan. 30th, 2017 04:20 pm
whispersoflove: (otherworldly)
[personal profile] whispersoflove
Coby wasn't home, and hadn't left a note for him, so Anael was walking through the streets of London to get to Alcuin's home, enjoying the chill in the air, the way his breath fogged on the way out, the ebb and flow of love in the hearts around him. Hands in his jacket pockets, he paid no mind to the odd looks he occasionally received for wearing nothing but a denim jacket over a t-shirt in this weather.

It began as an itch in his back, a barely there scratch where his wings would be. He did not think much of it, only shifting his shoulders the way he normally did when the urge to let them out came over him. But then the itch burrowed deeper, and increasingly hotter, until it was more of a burn than anything else, and his lungs were alive with it.

He'd hurried into a side street with little foot traffic and leaned against a wall there, his breathing short and heavy. He tried to cloak himself, but he couldn't keep a hold on the miracle through the pain he was so unused to, and he collapsed to his knees as he heard words in a rough language that scraped against every fiber of his being, a language of Hell. His wings wouldn't come out and he folded to his side on the wet ground, seeing shadows on the other side of the street. They were all saying the words, out loud and right into his mind, and one of them came forward, a pair of boots stopping right in front of him. They pulled his t-shirt collar down and drew a symbol between his collarbones, their fingers red with - blood? The symbol felt like it was searing into his flesh. Anael cried out, physically as much as spiritually, praying out to God with all of his being.

The words ceased suddenly, pain abating slightly, and the dark figures dispersed as someone ran over to him.

OTA

Jan. 26th, 2017 08:28 pm
hollow_moon: (deep thought)
[personal profile] hollow_moon
A good life, the sort that was truly lived, was often more a roller coaster than a gentle cruise. There were ups and there were downs, hills that either offered an exciting flutter or pure dread. Val was fairly certain he was perched atop one of those hills now, but he couldn't see through the fog well enough to know if he was in for a flutter or a full on fall. ...Hell, for all he knew, he'd run out of track.

Still, it was exciting. Exciting was good. It had been too long since he'd had a good thrill.

The doors of the museum were wide open, with signs outside encouraging people to come in and see the items that would be going up for auction soon. Yes, part of this drop involved shutting the doors to what had once been his pride and joy, and while some things had been passed onto other museums or tucked back into his personal collection, some things were simply being sold for charity. By the end of February he'd be leasing the property out, and he would, it seemed, be working for Jack Harkness.

Jack had come crashing into his life on New Years, and somehow one night of idiocy and pleasure had turned into a promise of adventure. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a real job- One where he wasn't his own boss and doing whatever he liked, that was. ...And he'd certainly never been offered on on the spot before. It was all so strange and exciting, and Val found himself itching to start anew. 

The items for sale were in the main room, but some of the exhibits remained open in the back, where Val was currently sorting through some items and packing them away in large crates. He was bent over, wrapping a large vase when he heard someone enter behind him, and he spoke without looking up from what he was doing.

"I know it says no flash photography, but it's all going away for a while. Take as many selfies as you like."

OTA

Jan. 26th, 2017 01:00 am
miss_ives: (caught at my own game)
[personal profile] miss_ives
In the new year, Vanessa had found that she could actually approach life as a whole with less gravitas than she had in the last few months. She had not seen Prometheus again since the evening at that occult museum (nor had she read in the papers about the theft of a vase from there, but she had not gone back since, and it simply might not have made it into the papers), but while she was no more protected than she had been before his gift of the talisman, at least her home was warded now, courtesy of Felix Harrowgate. That was a welcome luxury.

But even more surprisingly, Vanessa Ives was making plans. Plans that would take her far from everything she knew, if only for a fortnight. And in good company, at that. Her initial misgivings about Yves had eased with time, and she was glad of her spontaneous decision to ask him whether he would like to accompany her. A trip abroad, somewhere neither of them had any ties, might well be what they both needed.

She had finished her inventory of Prometheus's shop, for all that a lot of items in it were described rather than identified. She still opened up the shop some evenings, as well as on the weekends, when she could, but as the time for the trip came closer, she found herself distracted both at work and in the shop. Distracted, and in a surprisingly elated mood.

She was just cleaning some items in the shop when the door bell jangled from someone coming in, and rather than turn around to face them straight away, she glanced at a mirror to her side. Her eyes widened at the figure she saw in it, and she turned around in a start. "Mina!"

Here was her beloved Mina, pushing back the hood of her white coat, as beautiful as she had ever been. She even had a smile for Vanessa, and Vanessa did not know what to make of that. Why would Mina smile at her?

"I do not blame you," Mina said. Unlike Vanessa's usual visions, she stayed, and spoke to her. Could it truly be her? Could Mina have found her? Why? "Any blame has been washed away in your suffering."

"I do not deserve that," Vanessa answered, surprised at the steadiness of her own voice. "I cannot forgive myself."

"I am married now," Mina went on. "He's no soldier, but he is good to me. A lawyer. Jonathan."

"I am happy for you," Vanessa said, finding it to be true. Whatever had pushed her to seduce Mina's captain, it was nowhere to be seen now. She took a step closer, and then another, expecting Mina to vanish with proximity. Her visions of her never let her get close.

But here she still was. Was she real? Could this truly be her? Could it truly be Mina smiling at her now, sad though that smile was?

"Poor Peter," said Mina, and Vanessa frowned in remembrance. There had been three of them. She had loved him too. "If only you'd gone after him, that day, after you kissed him. If only you'd told him you loved him for his weakness..."

"How can you know that?" Vanessa asked, her frown more pronounced now, and a tightness in her chest that spoke of ill tidings.

Mina's eyes shifted, a red glow shining out, as her features darkened, and Vanessa could not move. "I know many things now. My Master has taught me them." There was a gust of wind through the shop, and then Mina's face was as beautiful as it had always been, even in her distress. "Things no one ought to know. Vanessa. Save me!"

Vanessa reached out to her, but the door to the shop had burst open, and she was too late, too slow to catch her friend's hand, and Mina was gone in an instant, in a scream, leaving Vanessa's breath short, reaching for someone who was not there, and terrified for her dearest friend.

OTA

Jan. 22nd, 2017 09:02 pm
akatawitch: (Wilderness)
[personal profile] akatawitch
Putting a fist in someone’s face had no business feeling so good, but for Sunny it was sweeter than anything in this moment.

Catcalls were a part of life for a woman, and normally in the interest of getting the hell out of there as soon as possible her response would be something along the continuum of ignoring it to shouting something back. But she would keep moving. Moving away.

She couldn’t do that today. It wasn’t just some complete idiot stranger shouting what on the surface was a compliment on her ass. It was political bullshit, it was protest marches, it was school stress, it was winter blah, it was friends in terrible relationships, it was sexual frustration, it was feelings that were too big for the little container she was trying to keep them in, it was her father’s weird face when she’d finally told her parents she was seeing someone.

It was too much.

She’d roared and rounded, and then he was on the ground with a bloody nose and looking up at her with stunned terror in his eyes while she stood over him and yelled.

“Get the fuck up, bomboy!”

((Sunny can be anywhere that’s convenient for you. By the way, she basically called our nameless sleaze a manchild))

OTA

Jan. 22nd, 2017 08:03 pm
kersen: (male: wet)
[personal profile] kersen
Kersen sometimes did this thing where when he was feeling his worst, he tried to look his best. Elaborate drag when he was the most down, for example. Like maybe he could force cheerfulness with sequins and lipstick.

This time, he couldn't seem to muster up the energy for drag, though. What "look" said 'I just found out a lover is a serial killer'? Particularly coupled with 'what does this say about my taste in men'? Finally, he'd just gone with the forced cheerfulness: dark purple leather pants and a shirt (gifted to him by an employee years ago) that read OF COURSE I'M PRO-GAY, DO YOU THINK I WORK THIS HARD TO BE AN AMATEUR GAY in bright rainbow colors.

... also he'd started smoking again. Which was a little ironic since he was pretty sure that any effect they had on him was purely psychosomatic.

However, at the moment he was having a smoke break outside his bar. It was fairly early yet, just past 9pm. The streets were still full, lively with people leaving restaurants and shops, heading into bars and theaters. He liked this time of night, where the world was still alive. Wished he could experience more of it.

Some asshole walking by threw a homophobic slur at him, and he was briefly, stupidly tempted to flash his fangs as a threat. Instead he said, "The most fabulous you'll ever see, honey," and flicked the cigarette to the ground. Luckily it was the cowardly sort of asshole, and he just stuck up his middle finger and kept walking.
harrowgate: by unopened (sparkle)
[personal profile] harrowgate
If there was one bar in the city where Felix was least likely to get in trouble, it was, ironically, the Blood Diamond. His usually vast array of potentially disastrous life choices was severely limited, surrounded as he was by vampires -- who, by their very nature, were entirely off-limits for him -- and the sorts of mortals who preferred this kind of atmosphere. Here, Felix could drink and dance and flirt, and remain largely confident that he wouldn't do anything to which Shannon might ultimately object.

What Felix did not do, no matter where he went, was blend in. He wore a black suit, but one subtly patterned in paisley, with a pink checked shirt and a scarf that stood out a little too loudly against it. When he shrugged off the jacket to dance, the colors clashed against his hair and tattoos, and Felix knew he could not possibly be ignored. He adored it.

Breathless after dancing, Felix draped against the bar, dangling a double bourbon on the rocks from one elegant hand, having waved off the offer of one of the signature cocktails from the bartender. He lounged as if he were the one holding court, and surveyed the room, with a tempting curve of his lips that invited approach... and hid the sharp diamond spikes behind his smile.

ota 👏

Jan. 17th, 2017 09:21 pm
pixiesweat: (angle face)
[personal profile] pixiesweat
It was a regular day for Manuel. In other words, he had nowhere to be, nothing to do, and no motivation to do anything other than wander around aimlessly.

The anniversary of his sister’s death had come and gone. The emotional turmoil had faded away, but he felt curiously flat, like it had taken the rest of his emotions with it.

He’d had a quick breakfast before he left his flat, but hadn’t even thought about eating anything since then. He didn’t know how long it had been. He wasn’t keeping track of time. He barely felt hungry, and more importantly, he didn’t care.

He walked around, considered stealing something from a convenience store he passed, just because he could, but there wasn’t anything appealing enough to be stolen even for no reason. Eventually he came to a bench, sat, and watched traffic passing by until it was making him feel irritable instead of just empty.

He stood, and that was when the lack of food finally caught up with him. The sudden change in position made his head swim, and he staggered just enough to put himself in the path of someone who’d been about to walk by.

“Sorry,” he said, once his head had cleared enough for him to realise what had happened.

OTA

Jan. 14th, 2017 10:33 pm
wispofathing: (Pigtails)
[personal profile] wispofathing
Ostensibly they were out busking, but the Overbay sisters were singing to and for as well as with each other.

Bliss was perhaps not a great beauty as her little sister made her sound, but there was something beautiful about her when she was in motion. About thirty in appearance with smile lines, she was taller and more solid than her pixie-like sister, her presence had a quiet, nurturing, steady calm to it that balanced out Curnen’s flitting energy. Her bone straight black hair was braided back, hanging to her waist. Her eyes were green (as one might expect of a fairy), but a normal green that looked blue sometimes depending on what she was wearing.

They passed an actually nice guitar back and forth between them—Curnen’s now, Willy was letting her keep it!—and while the case was open for anyone who cared to show their appreciation, they paid it no real mind even though the crowd was very generous today. This was a reunion and a healing and a prayer. They had not sung together properly since Lyndon Johnson was president.

Which wasn't to say that pragmatism wasn't telling them to turn it into a little something more.

Less often they brought out a violin, and only Curnen played that one. Bliss had brought it with her and it was her intention to leave it here. It had been their daddy's. Curnen was nervous about that, since the man who had raised her hadn’t been her father by blood… but Bliss made the poor thing sound like a dying cat.

But it was their voices that was most important and really entranced. The younger sister had a high, ethereal soprano, the older sister lower and smokier alto, and they knew how to blend these to best effect with a certainty that came from years of experience.

Curnen could keep this up all day, but practicalities had to be tended to. Practicalities like lunch. Bliss volunteered to go in search of something while Curnen continued to play on her own. She scratched inexpertly--which was by human standards still at least passably--at her daddy's violin, remembering how he'd been able to coax goddamn light and shadow from this instrument.
finlay_flynn: (fearful)
[personal profile] finlay_flynn
His new show had finally been announced, and he'd done a small round of press this morning. Radio, mostly. Just little interviews, mostly about his return to telly and the fact that he was starring in the reboot of a classic and beloved show. Nothing taxing, nothing thrilling. Just boring media- The side of the job Fin sort of wished he could skip. He managed to be his charming self though, deflecting when the questions got too personal, all while flirting shamelessly with a few of the interviewers. The public loved that, he'd found, and he wasn't shy about playing it up. 

Mid-day found him wandering Covent Garden, two small shopping bags in one hand, Starbucks in the other. He was clean shaven, and his hair was getting a bit ridiculous again, just touching his shoulders as he walked, and occasionally getting in his face when he stopped to peek in shop windows. All and all, a dreadfully normal day. ...At least, it had been.

He'd been having little pains lately, ever since New Years. Nothing dreadful, but... Discomfort that was a bit too familiar. If felt like... It felt like his heart. Though it couldn't be, could it? Not now. not with his enchanted heart and fae blood. It had to be something mundane. Heartburn, perhaps. Something innocent.

That's what he kept telling himself- Even now when the pain returned. It was sudden and sharp, enough that he dropped his shopping and doubled over slightly, holding his chest and panicking a bit. He couldn't go to the hospital, couldn't risk them checking his blood... He had to do something though, and he pulled out his phone. Hand shaking, he wasn't sure which number he'd called. Wasn't even sure he'd managed to make a call.

(OTA- If you're friends with Fin, feel free to assume he called you! He's not well and could have easily called anyone in his contacts. ;) If you don't know Fin or your pup wouldn't be reachable for whatever reason, feel free to simply be in the right place at the right time. LT/ST very welcome. <3)

OTA

Jan. 12th, 2017 09:29 pm
quartermaster_q: (tappa tappa tappa)
[personal profile] quartermaster_q
Q had managed to remain out of the field for a bit now, confined to his lab and Q branch, quite happily. In fact his world, as a whole, had been delightfully calm. He and Bond had spent the holiday abroad, doing things the office didn't need to know about... And he'd returned to London uncharacteristically chipper.

Today he was at a cafe not far from the office, hiding behind his laptop as usual- However, he seemed slightly less closed off than usual. Where he usually blended into the background, or made a point of not engaging with the world, today.... Today, however, he seemed interested, watching people pass by out the window, and even occasionally glancing up to see who was coming and going in the cafe.

In fact, he was so engaged with the world, that he didn't notice his laptop screen flicker strangely before returning to normal.

OTA

Jan. 7th, 2017 11:42 pm
winter_wisp: (:/)
[personal profile] winter_wisp
It had been a strange week. It was his season, and so it should have been full of joy- But this year it was different. The winds that sang his name were too cold, too sharp. The trees seemed dead rather than naked, and the chill that usually lit up his magic was heavy and without spark. Everything was slightly wrong, and the longer it lingered, the more uneasy the pixie became.
 
An awakening was approaching, something powerful and dark. Winter could feel it in his bones, tainting the world around him- Something was approaching this realm, though the pixie couldn't sense who or what. He was sensitive to the change though, maybe more sensitive than most, and it was slowly altering him, as things so often could.
 
Walking down the high street he kept one eye on his reflection in the shop windows, noting the way his wings showed occasionally, even though they were hidden- And freezing in place when he saw a familiar figure behind him.
 
Aspid's eyes were dark, and though Winter knew he wasn't in this world with him, he still tensed as the reflection of the dead wizard rested his hand on his shoulder, and leaned in to speak in his ear. The words he whispered were like a low hum, but Winter heard each one, his shoulders shaking as he closed his eyes.
 
"You're lying," the pixie said quietly. "You're a liar!" he shouted, turning his head and opening his eyes- Only to find the shadow of Aspid gone, and a small group of people staring at him as though he'd lost his mind.
 
Looking back in the shop window, Winter saw himself alone again- But changed. Taller still than his new height, with a sunken gaze and painfully thin body. He looked warped and dark, and though he wanted to believe it was an illusion, he couldn't help but fear it was a vision of the future Aspid's warning had painted for him.

OTA

Jan. 7th, 2017 10:57 pm
london_spy: (hurting)
[personal profile] london_spy
He'd come into the new year clean, and intended to do his best to stay that way. More importantly, he was back on his medication and back to eating regular meals- Not that it seemed to be helping much. Some damage couldn't be undone easily though, and Danny was still painfully underweight. Worse still, he was a bit under the weather, and couldn't get in to see his doctor until the end of the month.

It was just a bug, that's what he kept telling himself- And only himself. He didn't want to worry Hex with this, the other man had already gone through so much because of him. Had put up with so much...

He'd pushed himself through a job interview that morning, and was supposed to stop off for groceries next, but a dizzy spell had nearly left him flat on the pavement. So instead he'd wandered into a small cafe, ordering a cup of tea and a sandwich before settling into the last booth in the corner. His hand trembled every time he lifted his mug, and he knew he looked a little pale. 

"It's fine," he whispered to himself. "You're fine. It's fine..."

Taking a calming breath, he lifted his cup again, his hand shaking so hard this time that it fell from his fingers. It bounced off the table, rolling a little before smashing on the floor, coating the shoes of a person walking past.

"Sorry- Shit, I'm so sorry," he said, reaching for some napkins as he spoke.

OTA

Jan. 6th, 2017 01:10 pm
alcuin: (dark)
[personal profile] alcuin
The call had come at about 6:30 in the morning. Alcuin had been the most frequent phone number in Hannibal Lecter's phone logs, and he had no next of kin. They needed someone to identify a body. They had already established that dental records were a match, so this was really just a necessary formality, they told him once he was at the police station, sitting there numbly. There was no need to show him the body itself, someone explained kindly, as to be frank, it was burned beyond recognition. But two pieces of jewelry had been found on it.

The attendant handed Alcuin a watch and a ring. They were Hannibal's. He felt like throwing up.

They told him they were still investigating, but the house was nearly entirely gone. The rapid nature of the fire's spread suggested accelerant. Arson. In other words, though they did not say it, murder.

They had let him keep the watch and the ring, and gave him the number of a grief counselor, and a police officer told him that they would be in touch about the investigation. They'd also asked him where he had been the night before. The answer was home, alone, and Alcuin felt sick with the knowledge that he could somehow be a suspect in this. Again.

He'd said as little as possible during the entire ordeal. Tried to think as little as possible. It was nearly 9am by the time he emerged from the police station and onto the city sidewalk in what seemed like impossibly bright light. He took a couple of deep breaths and then bolted over and retched into a trash can.

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