offthebeatenpath: (dont forget to look up)
[personal profile] offthebeatenpath
Commissions were one thing, and Em had gotten comfortable with the process from the initial conversation about what the client wanted all the way through to delivering the final product. She did her best, one piece at a time, and only taking the work when she felt she could do what she'd be promising to do.

This wasn't any different, right? But sitting in her room, staring at her signature at the bottom of a contract to design a London-themed tarot deck, or worse the deposit check they'd given her for supplies and such, she couldn't help feeling like she was in over her head. This wasn't one piece; it was seventy-eight. Seventy-nine if she included a Happy Squirrel, and eighty if you counted a design for the card backs. But it was one piece, all seventy-eight, seventy-nine, eighty paintings being parts of the whole.

She had some ideas, but she needed more. She needed to see London with new eyes. Not only the parts she'd seen and remembered already. She needed to come up with something that wouldn't speak only to her, but to anyone who'd use the deck. The thought of wandering all over London alone to see what she needed to see made her stomach churn even more than the scope of the paintings she'd agreed to do. She didn't think she would be the only one who'd have a problem with that, and she couldn't ask the boys to go with her all the time. And Jag would want to, if the alternative was her going by herself.

Rather than stew (no pun intended) over the problem, she went to the kitchen for some chop vegetables, boil water meditation. By the time she put the tartiflette in the oven, she thought she'd come up with a solution.

The boys and Dutch she talked to in person, but she also sent texts or emails to pretty much everyone in her contact list, asking if they would be interested in helping her with a project. What she was looking for was people willing to show her something of London. Whether that was an iconic landmark or some hidden quirk you really had to look to see. Where they went when they had an afternoon free or a tourist trap with the queues to go with it. Prime nightlife or private retreat.

She got lucky. Not only were friends willing to help, but some introduced her to their friends to expand the circle even more. The messenger back she carried almost everywhere always had a sketchbook or two in it, but in this case, the phone's camera was more helpful. With plenty of reference photos, she could hole up in her room and paint for weeks.


"Thanks for helping," she said, not quite meeting their eyes as she smiled with her gratitude. "Everybody has such different ideas about London, I never really know what to expect."

[Open to friends or friends of friends, which should be most characters, I think. If you want to thread and there isn't an obvious connection, hit me up via email or slack and we'll figure something out.

Threads can be anywhere in London your character might take Em. If you need ideas, Visit London and Londonist are good for more obvious things, and Hidden London has more weird, wacky, trivial stuff. Just specify and/or link in your TL, so I know where they are.]
lcrpg_npc: (fog)
[personal profile] lcrpg_npc

(Rather than write the same vague drivel, here is a pretty gif to inspire you, a link to the weather for the week, and a link to londonist, a great resource for all things London related. As always this post is open all week. Tag in, tag others, check back often!)
lcrpg_npc: (Default)
[personal profile] lcrpg_npc
The Queen's official birthday celebrations might wait for the better, brighter weather of June, instead of the actual date just passed, but there was no lack of things to do in London this week, even if it was cooler and damper than the week before. St. George's day festivities were scattered throughout the city, competing with celebrations of the four hundredth anniversary of Shakespeare's death. Getting around the city could be even more difficult than usual on Sunday, with multiple streets closed off for the London marathon.

There were exhibits - everything from graphic design to a survey of Sicilian history to the influence of underwear. And the same level of diversity could be found whether you were in the mood for music, theatre, good food, or late night fun. There was something for everyone, and no matter your plans - or lack of plans - you never quite knew what you were going to find, or who might find you.

[Week long gp! Tag in, tag others, and check in daily to see who's joined in.]
finlay_flynn: (pensive and beardy)
[personal profile] finlay_flynn
He'd been working on the book since just after he'd lost his vision, and after a few re-writes and a lot of changes in his life, it was finally finished, and there was finally a release date and cover art.  On May 17th Fin's book, The Rough Spark would be released, with a short book tour that would follow. 

Tonight, however, was just about celebrating its completion and the impending printing, and Finlay had rented a large hall and invited all his friends, and his friends friends, to come and celebrate- And hopefully get the word out.

A large poster hung on the back wall, displaying the cover art they'd finally settled on. It wasn't flashy, but Fin felt it was a good fit, a single shattered light bulb with one tiny ember still burning inside. The party had a dark industrial feel to it's décor, but like any celebration it was also full of food, music, and drink.

(OTA. It's Fin's party, but treat it as you would any GP! Also, feel free to assume your pup received an invitation somehow, either via a friend or from fin himself.)
londoncallingmods: (calling)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods

(As always gathering posts are open for at least one week. Feel free to use the heading of your comment to let other players know what day and time your top level takes place. Tag in now and check back often to tag others!)
londoncallingmods: (calling)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
As the city said goodbye to January, February rolled in quietly behind it. The weather remained mostly unchanged, though the streets seemed slightly emptier as the majority of tourists left. 

Still, there was no shortage of things to do this week, from a rare book event, to swing dance classes. There were also a few art exhibitions opening, and the usual events at the museums. Plenty of concerts and shows to see... Not to mention up and coming pubs, restaurants, and new and old cafes that seemed to always be alive.

There was no excuse to be bored in a city like this. No reason at all.

(Week long gp! Tag in, tag others, and check in daily to see who's joined in.)


Jan. 24th, 2016 08:40 am
akatawitch: (Blue)
[personal profile] akatawitch
You're weird lately.

People put it in different ways and in different languages, but that seemed to be the constant refrain around Sunny these days. When she called home to talk to her mother, Mama said she was tense. Her school friends found her snippier than usual. When she called Orlu--and by extension Chichi, since Chichi didn't have a phone or computer--she could be freer but even they noticed something was off.

The problem was, Sunny just wasn't dealing with it. She couldn't properly say what it was. Or maybe she could and she just didn't want to.

Is something going on?

The suggestion had come up from people who had no idea how impossible it was that maybe she should talk to somebody. Somebody professional. Only Sunny knew she wouldn't make it a day in therapy of any kind. She had too much to keep to herself, and unfortunately a large part of that 'too much' factored into the sort of person she was. It would never work. So... the thing inside her only grew. Snowballed. Every little anxiety was balling up into a larger one and it was going to mow her down one of these days.

Today she'd been trying to release some of that tension by playing soccer in the park with some friends. London never actually got very cold, which suited Sunny just fine. But while she usually tried to hold back in the game since she was better than all of her friends and they all knew it, she was too aggressive. She ran too hard, kicked too hard, yelled too loud. Seemed only inevitable that she'd take an injury, didn't it?

So she'd benched herself to watch them play, babysitting the backpacks, and a thought flashed through her mind. I don't fit here, either.

And that was so dangerously close to the heart of the matter than she immediately shoved it away, rolling up her muddy jeans to see the place where her shin was already turning livid purple.

You're weird lately.


Jan. 13th, 2016 03:05 pm
offthebeatenpath: (spent tears)
[personal profile] offthebeatenpath
Victoria's seat by the café's window gave her a good view not only of the café and its various exits, but also the pavement outside. Later, in reviewing what had happened - some habits never died, whether there was a debrief required or not - she would decide the combination of the weighty bag worn across the man's body and the way he held his head under a brimmed cap to minimize exposure to the cameras dotting much of London that first caught her attention. Victoria raised the mug to her lips as she gazed out the window, taking in the man in an instant as her eyes moved on to the traffic beyond him. The face she remembered. He'd been barely more than a boy then, working for some... Italians, secondary players with a connection to last official target for Six. She'd only seen him once, through a scope during some early recon, and their paths hadn't crossed beyond that. She didn't even know his name, but she knew his type, and Victoria had little enough going on after the holidays it was worth looking into herself.


The contract specified the kill be public and from a distance, but the file from Il Bisturi had implied the target was cagey. She spent most of her days in public spaces, but with no rhyme or reason to where she would be when. Even her more regular haunts were hard to predict accurately. And the file said nothing about where she lived, so Vargas wasn't able to trail her from there. There was a square popular with buskers not far from where the mercs sent earlier had found her - the file was light on details of that encounter, and when Vargas had asked, he was ordered again to keep his distance - and lacking better ideas, he'd kept the area under video surveillance for the past week and a half waiting for the girl to show up, and she finally had. He'd had plenty of time to work out the best rooftops and upper floor empty office spaces overlooking the square, so once the target had set up her tiny folding table and put up her sign, it was a simple matter of letting himself into the corresponding building and into position.


The tarot had shown Em in spots all over the city so far this year, often in places she'd never been before, and it was unusual enough she'd done multiple readings trying to find out why. The images the cards showed her hadn't been very forthcoming though, and it had left her unsettled, but not knowing what else to do to prepare for whatever was coming. Without any real information, she hadn't shared her concerns with anyone, because what would she tell? I've got a bad feeling about this wasn't helpful, even from a precog.

Two women from Florence stopped for a reading, and were so thrilled to discover Em spoke Italian they hung around chatting about places they'd visited for awhile after she was finished with the cards. When they were ready to leave, she recommended a nearby coffee shop with excellent espresso, and stood watching until they were out of sight to make sure they didn't miss the first turn. She was about to sit again, when there was a loud crack and a sudden searing pain in her hip that made her crumple to the pavement.


Victoria headed toward the back of the café as though going to the ladies', but instead slipped out the backdoor and down the block so she could catch sight of the younger assassin before he was too far to follow. The office building he entered was, unlike many in the area, fully occupied, leaving the roof most likely, and by the time she got to the top, he had his Nemesis unpacked, assembled, and aimed down at the street below. She quickly crossed the space between the roof access door and his position, swinging her weighted handbag, which was as much a weapon as the knife in it or the guns tucked into her coat, into his head, "None of that then," just as he exhaled before taking the shot. He managed to pull the trigger, but neither had time to see if the shot hit true, as they scrambled for control.

[[Joint EP. Help Victoria deal with the assassin, or come to Em's rescue down on the street. ST/LT are always welcome.]]
londoncallingmods: (calling)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
Merry Christmas!
You are invited to celebrate the season with Finlay Flynn and Willy Silver.
When: Christmas Eve (5pm – Midnight)
RSVP: By Email ( Before 19/12
Upon entry you'll be given a ticket for one free drink. All drinks after that are 5 each. There will also be a free buffet in the dining area.
Dress code: Casual, but tidy please!
Raffle: Come wearing a festive sweater and you will automatically be entered into a raffle to win a 65 inch TV.
Donate: Bring three tins of canned food to be donated to the local food bank, and receive an extra drink ticket.

Look forward to:
A live DJ, live music, an appearance by Santa, gift bags with deluxe swag, and the company of old and new friends!

(OTA! Happy holidays! If you know Fin, Willy, Phouka, or Winter, feel free to assume they gave you an invite. If not, you can say your pup got an invite through a friend of a friend, someone who knows someone, ect. It IS invite over (no gate crashing pups please, Fin's a giver and would want everyone to feel included), but the pups hosting the party are pretty active and I believe they know almost everyone in the game. And the people they don't know surely know people who do. Even if you only met them once, you got an invite somehow! This gathering post is open all week, and beyond!)


Dec. 13th, 2015 01:14 pm
winter_wisp: (giggle)
[personal profile] winter_wisp
His hair was being very odd today. He'd woken up with the red and brown curls he'd grown accustom to, but around mid day between putting a hat on and taking it off, it had gone shock white again. In fact, it seemed to change every time he placed a hat on his head and then removed it- as though his curls were playing peek-a-boo with him.

Winter liked it.

He'd spent the morning at the park, dancing to the sound of one of the mortals who was busking there, then had lingered in a cafe to sip coffee and watch the mortals flirt and chat. Observing them and trying to imitate them.

After lunch he found himself at the shops, looking for gifts to spend his pocket money (and the money he'd charmed from strangers) on. Something to win Willy's dead mortal over, so he would stop scolding him all the time. Something for fae Willy, to remind the fae he was loved. ...And something special for Phouka, so he could remain his favourite, always.

Shopping was hard though, especially when there were so many things that he wanted for himself. His small basket was brimming with items already- From neon socks, to a mug shaped like a unicorn. However, they were all things the greedy pixie wanted, with not one single gift to be found.

(OTA! Find winter at the shops, or at the park or cafe if you'd rather!)
londoncallingmods: (calling)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
With cold weather rolling in and taking over, it seemed as though London was as eager as it could be to embrace the seasonal traditions of sharp blades on ice and food in faces.

Many ice rinks had opened this weekend, though Canary Wharf was by far the most impressive one. Large, beautiful, and not too busy if you came at the right time of day. Music played at a pleasant volume and the ice was littered with young and old, couples and singles, novices and show-offs... Anyone bold enough to strap on some skates.

Elsewhere in the city there was food to be found at the Foodies Festival. A place where you could find not just fine food, but also live-music, carollers, photo-booths and team quizzes.

It was a quiet way to start ringing in the holiday season- Or simply just enjoy the brisk weather that had crept in and was here to stay until spring.

(Gathering post! Set over the weekend, but open all week long to new top levels and tags. Tag in now and check back in often!)
prodigalflame: (quietly pleased)
[personal profile] prodigalflame
Another step. John found himself half-way out of yet another jewellery store, foot poised to meet the pavement. He checked his phone and made sure he'd taken all the photos he wanted, noted all the prices, and geo-located the freaking place. He had a list of ten stores to hit that day, and he was barely done with three of them.

And he wasn't even the guy who made lists: a man less of habit than of reaction. It was early afternoon on Friday; he'd been a good boy and done his marking and seen the few students who turned up to office hour and basically asked him to do their first assignment for him ("The answer is no. And also no.")

He was after all, a proper grown up. He had the mortgage and boyfriend and kitchen to prove it. He'd been in London more than a year; he knew it's rhythms better, felt its beat. And holding his phone up to get a better signal, he simply entered the throng heedless of its direction, casually going where he wanted regardless of the people around him. There had always been something of the shark about John, moving at his own pace and scenting blood in the water and having exactly no fucks to give.

As the sun started setting on London, he could be found enjoying the late night shopping, ever certain, ever comfortable, in jeans and leather jacket, hunting from shop to shop to find two engagement rings to symbolise the most ridiculous decision he'd ever made in his life.

And you know, if anyone said he was ridiculous or one of the jeweller's raised their eyebrow at the notion of an engagement ring for John's boyfriend, he was more than prepared to start a little burnination. Old shops had old wiring. Happened all the time. He could feel the sparks in the walls like tingles in his spine, and all he'd have to do was give things a little push. Jeez, it would be such a shame.

Finally, after his feet were sore and his calves ached, John found himself going back to the second shop on his list. It was a salutary lesson that his instincts were almost always right. Paying on credit, he picked up a matched set of men's engagement rings: crafted in white gold, with a symbol that almost could have been an 'X' etched on the band. Blue and white diamonds for Bobby; garnets and white diamonds for John. Then, feeling like a load had been lifted from his heart, he paused again on the threshold, but now there was a spring in his step, and a giddy sort of relief. I deserve a drink, he decided, and went to go find one.

[You can meet John pounding the pavement and looking at his phone; or taking a stop at a cafe in the evening to recharge with a coffee; or heading into or tumbling out of a jewellers. He will be somewhat intensely focussed on the search for the best wedding rings of all time, so feel free to bump into him or call out if your pup knows him. Your pup can also find him after he's been successful and is celebrating with a beer and a lot of blushing astonishment on his face. Your pup can also reference some fire that might have started in a shop at some point that evening. >.>]
offthebeatenpath: (Default)
[personal profile] offthebeatenpath
Em couldn't believe it had been a year. Most of the time it didn't feel nearly that long; except when the homesickness got too strong and then it felt like years had passed since she'd been home curled with Pyro, talked with Sabine, or struggled to learn a new meditation pattern from Dani. She wouldn't even have thought about it probably, if Kendal hadn't mentioned it when calling to ask about a client they'd given her card to. Her show at the gallery had opened a year ago, the day she found herself in another world entirely from where she should be.

If she'd been a good Catholic girl the way Mémé had tried to raise her to be, she might have gone to light candles for those she'd left behind. But convent school had broken her of that, and if she turned to fire at some point during the day - and she might, because it was comforting in the way few things were - it wouldn't be in a church.

Cloudy and cool on a Monday meant it would probably be a slow day on the street, and with another commission lined up, Em decided to take the day to wallow. Normally that would mean holing up in her room, but she actually felt like getting out for awhile.

Mid-morning found her in a busy coffee shop, a tiny table too close to where everyone queued, only half remembering her coffee as it cooled between sips. With her feet up on the chair, she rested her tablet on her knees, re-reading Le Petit Prince just because. She'd have preferred a print version - or the first English edition Pyro had given her for Christmas, still in the world she'd left behind - but she'd already had it on her tablet, which meant not having to buy another.

By the time she finished visiting with the prince and his fox friend - le renard was the best part of the book, and anyone who felt differently was wrong - she was actually thinking about trying to find a copy, so her favorite used book store was her next stop. She could've stayed in there for hours, just browsing, and she was sure she'd find something she wanted. But instead she focused on some of her hard-to-find, mostly out of print favorite authors.

While she struck out at the book store, Em wasn't bothered by it. The search, surrounded by the smell and feel of books, was enough. Like visiting an art gallery or museum, and with that thought, she knew what she wanted to do next. The late autumn sun had set by the time Em made her way through the exhibits, and she wound her scarf snugly around her neck and tugged on gloves as she stepped out into the evening.

It was dark and cloudy still, and most people would rather get where they were going quickly than stop and look around, she assumed. And even those who might look around were less likely to look up. Or maybe that was just rationalization for something she'd been wanting to try ever since that awful Halloween night. By the time she came across a narrow alley, she'd made up her mind to try. Stepping off the street, she thought of her cousin and pulled a card from her deck. A moment later, she felt as warm as she had bundled up, but she was dressed in lighter, steampunky fare: a corset over a white button-down shirt with vest and tie, plus-fours, and on her back, red wings with brass harness and fittings. After another glance around to make sure she hadn't been seen, she gave the wings an experimental flap, and they responded as easily as they ever had as a separate projection. Her face lit up in a smile, and as she worked the wings, she lifted off the ground. She'd known she'd missed flying, but it had never been like this, and the mix of new and long-forgotten nearly took her breath away. She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing aloud as she glided over the neighborhood, seeing London from a completely different perspective.

She was chilled through by the time she landed a few blocks from the squat, a mild headache from using her abilities in ways she hadn't before, but feeling better all the same. She let Temperance go, color coming back to her eyes and her clothes going back to what she'd been wearing before. She started toward the squat, but paused along the way, torn between heading home or stopping at the pub for a drink first.

[Run into her any time/place during Em's Day Out. Or somewhere in between, if you'd rather. She and I are both easy this time. Oh, and Slow Time/Late Tags are totally cool.]
londoncallingmods: (Default)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
 The house doesn't exist, that's the first thing anyone who might find themselves inside it would want to know. Now, you might ask how one could find themselves inside something that doesn't exist, but you'd honestly be better off asking yourself how you could leave something that doesn't exist. After all, ideas and concepts can't be burnt or broken, and you can't breakdown a door that's not there- Or was there and then decided to be somewhere else for a while...
You wake in a house though, a house that doesn't exist. A house that defies the laws of reality. There are corridors that go on for days, rooms full of nightmares, and millions of doors that lead you anywhere but out. Trapped inside with you are dozens of other people, all searching for an exit, or an explanation.
Behind every door you'll find your darkest fears, maybe even memories you've tried to forget, or secrets you never wanted to share... 
(OTA! Here is your first of two Halloween gps! This one is, of course, set in the haunted house where your pup can run into anything you can dream up! Deadly traps! Spooky monsters! An existential crises! Top level your pups waking up or running into danger, and then go ahead and tag other players! Since this is all magic-y and spooky don't worry too much about time lines and who bumped into who first. Only rule is that your pup can't escape until November 1st! Have fun! Also, because there are two GPs going up this week, both are open to new top levels for two whole weeks! And, of course, you can keep tagging long after that if you want. :D I'll post reminders daily on slack.)
arrowette: (Default)
[personal profile] arrowette
The universe was out to get her, Cissie thought. It hated her and wanted her to suffer and that was why she had been carried off to some strange new place yet again.

There had been no flash of light, no weird noises - she'd opened the door of her apartment and instead of stepping out into the tacky carpet of the hallway, she'd stepped out onto a crowded sidewalk with buildings she didn't recognize all around her.

This was the third - no, fourth time this had happened to her and really, it was getting old. She'd had a life back in Darrow. A strange, dual-kind of life but a life all the same and now it seemed she was going to have to start all over again.

"I really didn't sign up for this," she muttered. "And it would be really nice if the universe would stop screwing with me."


Oct. 13th, 2015 12:36 pm
hollow_moon: (blerp)
[personal profile] hollow_moon
He'd had all weekend to recover from his run in with Jag, and though he was still feeling slightly wounded, he'd made an effort to put all that unpleasantness behind him- Or, to at least make it look as though he had.

Monday had been spent inside, drinking far too much coffee and watching crap telly, but today he'd decided to pamper himself, just a bit. Yes, Val liked to play the part of the rebel or the black sheep, but deep down he did quite enjoy the finer things. Anyone who'd ever stepped foot in his home could tell you that. So today he'd had his hair trimmed, and his stubble groomed into something fashionable and deliberately scraggy. He'd bought a new winter coat, a new pair of jeans, and a striking pair of boots.

As a result he was terribly overdressed as he made his way to his local butcher, hoping to get something decadent for dinner.

Still, despite his fine clothes and the way he carried himself, there was a sadness lingering in Val's eyes. Even as he smiled and nodded at a few familiar faces, he seemed distant in a way he rarely was.

His phone chimed, and he pulled it out to find a text from one of his cousins.

Need to get away from Auntie Vera for a few days (weeks?). Thinking of going to Alpes. Lovely cabin there, lots of booze. You should come.

Usually Val would have declined, he couldn't just vanish on such short notice. He had commitments to keep and a museum to run after all. ...And yet he found himself tempted. It would be lovely to just vanish from London- To let the wolf run wild in the mountains, and to drown his sorrows in vintages from years he'd never lived through. ...It would be wonderful to not care.


Oct. 9th, 2015 07:59 pm
jageskro: (Default)
[personal profile] jageskro
Fin had been right; getting out of the city for a few weeks had done Jag a world of good. He felt better for having been with the circus again, for Drina's food and Kennick's always eerily on point advice, for being on stage and letting loose, for the familiar companionship of life on the road. He had been tempted not to come back, but tempting though it was, in the end, he wouldn't have just left Emma in London.

So here he was, back in their squat. Ollie was the only one there, and too busy for company, so Jag got out of there and headed down the street to have a pint at the pub on the corner. He sent Emma a text, telling her he was back and at the pub, and was glad to find a free stool at the bar, smiling at the next person over as he claimed it.


Oct. 8th, 2015 04:40 pm
pecked_by_birds: (smoke)
[personal profile] pecked_by_birds
When he'd first returned to London, Prometheus had found himself back at his old studio. It was nothing special, a narrow building wedged between a high street shop and a bakery. The second floor served as a modest apartment, but the ground floor had, at one point, been a small shop. ...A shop the titan had ignored until today.

Old paintings hung from the walls, trinkets and treasures lined the shelves... There were crates of books- Vintage by now, and the case by the counter held everything from women's compacts to queer amulets. Things the titan had gathered and created over the years. ...Things he was ready to let go of.

He'd spent the night dusting and sweeping, washing windows and tidying away the mess. This morning he'd opened the shutters for the first time in ages, allowing the sunlight to pour in as he flipped the sign to open, and sank into a comfortable leather chair near the ancient looking register.

An old boom box sat on the counter, filling the shop with sound as the titan flipped open his old sketchbook and picked up where he'd left off years and years ago.


Sep. 10th, 2015 08:38 pm
jageskro: (pissed off)
[personal profile] jageskro
It had been a couple of days since Jag had run into Val in a different mood than he ever had before, and finished the evening getting his arse handed to him in a pub fight not far from Val's cousin's restaurant. Of course he hadn't come out of it on top; the place had been full of rich arseholes, and Jag had started a fight for nothing at all. Even the ones that weren't wankers wouldn't side with him, with good reason.

Now, a couple of days later, he was getting more than a little frustrated at the time his face was taking to heal. )

He leaned back against a wall in the busy square, staring angrily down at the few coins in the cap he'd just circulated among the crowd. Barely enough for some fish and chips.

"Fuck me," he gritted out between clenched teeth, frustrated with himself and with the entire fucking situation. Maybe he should just join back with the circus. What the fuck did he think he was doing here, anyway?
londoncallingmods: (calling)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
Summer was coming to an end, and fall was slowly creeping in as the temperatures dropped and the store fronts down the high street started to change to muted and earthy colours.

Menus at restaurants were beginning to change, and school for many was already back in session. Though there were still people attempting to enjoy the last weeks of summer, despite the fact that the weather was already turning on them.

As always, there was plenty to do this weekend, and though tourist season was slowing down, the streets and the underground were as busy and bustling as ever.

(Though the GP takes place over the course of Sat & Sun, it is, as always, open for as long as people want to top level and tag in. Be sure to check back throughout the week to see who has tagged in!)


londoncallingrpg: (Default)
London Calling RPG

September 2017



RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 20th, 2017 04:32 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios