kersen: (male: tattoos)
[personal profile] kersen2017-08-13 05:58 pm
Entry tags:

OTA

Kersen woke to the feeling of the skin on his fingers sizzling slightly. He blinked, and then yanked his hand towards his body, underneath the tarp that was covering him. He could see a sliver of sunlight under the edge of the tarp, and let out a string of curse words in a few different languages.

How he had gotten into this position... was not something he really wanted to think about right now. More important was how to get himself out of it. As the sun got higher, the tarp would get hotter. Waiting it out was not a good idea. He also had blood on him (some his, some not), and he was hungry. All of these things were the makings of a bad situation.

And of course, he didn't have a phone. He'd dropped it somewhere outside the tarp. His best shot was to try to... make a run for it. He wasn't even totally sure where he was, but he thought he was near a building. Alley in between some stores. He opened up the tarp enough to try to get a glimpse of the outside without letting in too much sunlight. That was a bad idea. He let out a cry of pain as his hair briefly caught on fire, and he shoved the tarp back down and patted it out, panting.

About ten minutes later, he had a semblance of a plan, and decided that he needed to just gather his courage and do it.

And five minutes after that (after crawling somewhat aimlessly across the gravel with a tarp on top of him), he felt the bottom of a door against a wall, got to his feet, found the doorknob as he felt the back of his hair starting to sizzle again as it peeked out from the tarp. Then he tumbled inside, trying to keep the tarp wrapped around him.

[OOC: Someone could wander by the outside and see him, or could be inside wherever he's ended up!]
london_spy: (soft smiles)
[personal profile] london_spy2017-07-03 04:15 pm

ota

There was a point in Danny's life where he could easily draw a line and say that was the past, and this was the future. Or maybe it was more a matter of what kind of person he was, versus who he could be if he wanted to be something more. Either way, it all boiled down to pre Alex and post Alex. Danny had gone from a life of drugs, drink, and as much debauchery as any human could handle, to a life that was almost domestic and normal. ...Then, of course, there had been post-post Alex. A strange pocket of time spent unraveling mystery after mystery, all while swimming in uncertainty and terror- Like Nancy Drew trapped in some sort of conspiracy theory filled snuff porn.
 
Life in a post, post Alex world was just chaos, and a sinking feeling of dread that hung about just close enough to always be felt. It had left him an even bigger mess than he'd been before they'd met. Though he supposed it would be odd if he'd somehow come out of it all as a well adjusted, functioning member of society. You don't wade that deep in the government's bullshit and come out better for it. You just didn't.
 
What had happened with Jack the other week, and the confession from Hex that had followed soon after, had left him on edge all over again. Danny found himself fearing a repeat of everything that had happened with Alex- And though that should have meant he was more vigilant than ever, the hopelessness that had come after learning the truth about the death of last lover lingered on even now, and rather than fight or prepare for war, Danny did what Danny did best. ...He fucked off and got fucked up.
 
There were certain things you couldn't take when you were on HIV meds. Technically he shouldn't have been taking anything, but if you knew how to walk the tightrope, it wasn't so bad. The blues were fine, powder was alright, but the reds were right out. They'd make him crash hard, and getting your stomach pumped on a Sunday night wasn't anyone's idea of a party. He was buzzing though, two shots of vodka, one of the blues, two lines... Pulse was a bit quick but that was alright, that was fine. Everything was fine. 
 
Everything was great.
 
He didn't know who was dancing with, but they were warm and they moved just right. They moved exactly right, and Danny was so good at this. He didn't have a single life skill you could put on a bloody resume, but he could do this. He was king of the fucking club scene, darling. He was swagger and lust, and as the bpm got higher, so did he, never missing a single beat.
 
"You're bloody brilliant," he told his dance partner, leaning in and speaking right in their ear. "Buy me a drink?"
 
(OTA, late tags and slow time super welcome! Danny is stoned out of his skull, but in a good mood. ...Yay? Feel free to kill his buzz or encourage this wicked behaviour.)

Smol Gathering - OTA

The weather this weekend wasn't worth getting excited over, but it was fair enough to justify some time out and about. Stores were packed with new stock, cafes were brimming with life, and as always, London herself was buzzing with activity.

In South London Pop Brixton was celebrating its second birthday, offering up DJs and live performances, along side plenty of food and drink vendors. Though if your mouth's watering and that's a tube trip too far, you could always head on over to Westfield Shepherd's Bush, where you'd find a fun food truck festival. For those looking to fill up with girl power rather than pudding, you could always head over to the Powerpuff Girls pop up shop. As always, there was no shortage of things to do this weekend.

The news was still packed with election chatter, and talk of the concert for Manchester, but if you took a peek at twitter, you might find a little conspiracy brewing all about one Finlay Flynn- Who's management was currently fighting rumors about his disappearance. Little theories kept popping up, showing how his twitter feed seemed slightly off, or how filming for his BBC 3 show had been suspiciously delayed. There were youtube videos discussing it, threads on various online forums, all chattering about how the actor who was so often spotted on the tube or in pubs was suddenly absent. A silly little bit of internet crazy for most- But an unsettling reminder of his absence to those in the know.

Still, London stopped for nobody, and the city was in full bloom, just as it was every weekend.

(OTA! As always the GP will be open for at least a week, so tag in, tag others, and check back often!)
goodfellow: (playful)
[personal profile] goodfellow2017-04-11 09:08 pm

Saturnalia GP!

It was a good night at Saturnalia.

There was some b-list American rapper-slash-DJ who had shown up earlier in the day, and Robin was happy to throw someone on stage. It had gone over well right away, so he'd let him stay on. And now it was well into the evening and things were, as Robin understood the current vernacular to be, turnt.

In fact, at some point he'd thrown open all the windows so that the music blasted onto the street, and instructed the bouncers to let in whoever wanted in. He'd also instructed the bartenders to serve all the beer half price. The resulting crowd and frenzy was really something else.
akatawitch: (Upset)
[personal profile] akatawitch2017-03-07 03:43 pm

OTA

She'd made the right choice.

She was the one who'd dumped him.

She knew that they were better as friends, given that was all he seemed able to give her.

It still felt like her stomach was going through a paper shredder whenever she thought about it.

So Sunny's coping mechanism to ignore the shredding inside her was to throw all of her free time into researching how to help Anael. If she was thinking about magic, she didn't have to think about emotions and how much they sucked and boys and how they were no good and how much she didn't want to talk to anybody about this utter failure and--

And anyway, it made her behave. She had already pulled in Faizel on this project, and she'd be stupid to cut him out now. Anael was more important than her shredding. Felix... well, what good would making things more awkward for him do? So she continued to text Faizel about this. But not about anything else yet.

Meaning that right now she was sitting outside a cafe, researching Afro-Caribbean religions--the ones that blended the folk beliefs of West Africa with Christianity--to see if that might give her some indication of what to do with her own power. As an added layer of making it difficult for her mind to wander, she took notes in Igbo.

Of course, it also meant that anybody who got curious wouldn't have any clue what she was actually writing about, and that wasn't a bad idea either.

She'd made the right choice. So why was she trying so hard to keep from curling up and dying?

Be Mine - Valentine's Day 2017

Lucky in love or not, London was a lovely place to find yourself on Valentine's Day. From romantic walks through various parks, to intimate dinners or shared deserts in the many restaurants and cafe's- There was something for everyone, because if wandering or dining wasn't for you, well, there were plenty of organised events to attend.

London couldn't claim to be the city of love, but it was certainly a city of possibilities.
london_spy: (hurting)
[personal profile] london_spy2017-01-07 10:57 pm

OTA

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.
drfeelbad: (Default)
[personal profile] drfeelbad2016-11-24 11:31 am

Thanksgiving - OTA

"You are American!" the barmaid exclaimed in delight when House sat down and asked for a scotch. "Happy Thanksgiving!"

House arched a brow at her enthusiasm, but then again, one of the reasons he'd come inside was that he'd seen the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade playing on the television above the bar. "Just like home," he said, nodding up at the television. "The crass commercialization designed as holiday spirit just gives me warm fuzzies."

She laughed. "I have pumpkin pie."

"You're shitting me. Really?"

She shrugged. "Used to be married to one of you. He was from Wisconsin. Liked pie."

House pulled out his wallet and took out a fifty pound bill, set it on the bar. "I'm going to sit here and watch the parade. Bring me whatever you like."

She was clearly thrilled about the challenge, because in addition to the pumpkin pie, she started whipping up experimental Thanksgiving-themed cocktails. It was amazing what could be made with cranberry and apple cider. An hour and a half later, House was drinking what she described as a cranberry orange margherita, and on his second piece of pie.

"Happy Thanksgiving!" he yelled to whoever walked in, hearing the tingling of the bells there.

Halloween GP

The weather today had been fairly pleasant, a mostly sunny day wedged between fairly grey ones. It wasn't warm, but the chill was minimal for this time of year, and there wasn't a drop of rain in sight. As night crept in, however, the streets slowly faded from sun kissed and painted in autumnal colours, to foggy and damp. An odd thing, really, since the forecast had predicted a clear and pleasant night.

It wasn't normal fog either, it was denser, thicker, and it carried an distinct scent, like cinnamon sugar and chestnuts. It was so thick it seemed to drain the streets of their colour, leaving the wold desaturated and grey. More importantly, anyone with a bit of magic in them would sense, quite quickly, that it wasn't of this world. It crackled quietly with power, dark and heavy. Unfriendly.

It was around nine pm that the local police stations began to receive calls, things they assumed were pranks at first, but soon began rolling in so quickly and frequently that it seemed something more was afoot. The evening news spoke of mass hysteria, warning people to stay indoors. Conspiracy blogs were lit up with chatter of chemical warfare, and some 'airborne drug'. There were reports of people seeing everything from long dead loved ones, to killer clowns.

Though despite the nervous chattering of talking heads and twitter addicts, most people were paying the supposed danger no mind. Clubs and bars on every block were blasting music and throwing costume parties, people were out with friends, wandering the streets and looking for a fun time. It may have been Monday, but that didn't seem to be stopping many people from enjoying the holiday.  

For the most part, everything seemed fine. ...The crowds and groups remained oblivious to the danger of the fog. ...It was only those who slipped off on their own, to have a quick smoke, to get some air or head home early. They were the ones in danger, they were the ones who's darkest fears seemed to emerge from the thick fog. 

Around 10pm, reports started to come in regarding a body found in Whitechapel, cut open wide and left to bleed out. No prints at the scene, no signs that anyone else had even been there. The CCTV footage had somehow been rendered useless, glitched out and blurred. A trouble echoed by every other security camera on the street. It was enough to set twitter and the internet off all over again, with talk of how the things seen in the fog might, somehow, be real.

(Happy Halloween! The fog is bringing fears and spoops to life! You can make the creatures and fabrications of the fog as personal or general as you like. Whatever works best to spook your pup. If, for any reason, you don't want your pup to see any spooks, that's totally fine too. It's not a required plot. Unlike last year, this time around the creepy things your pup might see can harm them and do real damage. Though they will vanish in the morning. If your pup is sensitive to magic in any way, they might sense that this magic is distinctly fae. If you have questions about what you can or can't do, just ask in slack! Though really, the only limit here is your imagination. Remember to check with other players before doing anything that might seriously hurt their pup, ect, ect, and have fun!)
willysilver: (Smile Blue)

[GP] Tuesday Night at The Alpha

The Alpha boasted that it was the smallest bar in all of London, a point that was hotly contested by many other hole-in-the-wal bars around the city. It was a friendly rivalry and as with people's prefered football clubs, their pefered tiny bars caused some chaos from time to time.

Tonight wasn't that sort of night. Tonight Willy Silver, back from a long illness, took the stage with his guitar and a bassist and drummer and rocked the night. Of course his magic was back in full strength and the mortals had no knowledge that with the power of his music came the enchantment that made them joyful, free with tipping, and drinking more than they should.

In the crowd tonight there was a familiar face to some. Hex sat at the bar sipping a Coke on ice. He was Willy's to command for a year and a day and though he didn't know why he had been told to be here tonight...and so he was.

Crowley lurked outside, close enough to enjoy the music but just far eough out that he could chainsmoke and wile a bit. Not that his wiling did any good in the face of Willy's feel-good-abracadabra show. But it was worth trying.

And in the back corner, by the loo door, sat a hateful woman who glared at the fae prince the whole time. One day they'd have a conflict but for tonight Pippa just wanted to see what he was about. Her dark mood kept most as far away from her as they could get in the tiny bar.

"We're going to take a break, have a pint, get requests," Willy said from the stage, then the trio put their instruments down and joined the crowd.


[Gathering post to indulge my wanting to thread everyone. But don't just tag mine, tag each other!]
london_spy: (jumper)
[personal profile] london_spy2016-09-14 11:14 am
Entry tags:

OTA

He hadn't exactly left London after he'd vanished on Hex. Instead he'd just slipped by under the radar, working quietly to uncover what, exactly, had happened to Alex. Along the way he'd lost Scotty. ...Or, rather, Scotty had been taken from him. By the end, even once he had his answers, it had been for nothing. No one wanted to hear it. Nothing changed. Nothing was fixed.

So when Hex's friend Q (which was still definitely not a name) had reached out to him to go see Hex, he'd accepted. Now, after weeks of watching Hex struggle to recover from the mess he'd made, Danny was slowly slipping out of the shadows he'd been lurking in. Though it didn't stop though shadows from following him around.

For a while everything had changed. Less drinking, no more drugs that weren't prescribed. He'd kept it up as well, not just for his own health, but for Hex's. The last thing the man needed in his life was a junkie. ...And yet here Danny was, in the bar just after noon, drinking and all too aware of the little baggy of powder in his pocket.

Sitting at the bar, his gaze looked slightly blank. He was well dressed, a thick blue knitted jumper keeping the creeping august chill at bay and hiding his slightly too thin frame. The dark circles under his eyes seemed lighter, and he'd recent had his hair trimmed. The pills were doing their best to keep him healthy, and it showed. He looked better than he'd looked in some time- He only wished he felt as well as he appeared.

Finishing his beer, he pondered having another, then glanced outside. He could really fancy a smoke as well. A habit he was still trying to kick.

(ota- Find Danny at the bar or outside having a smoke)
lcrpg_npc: (Default)
[personal profile] lcrpg_npc2016-04-23 10:12 pm

Gathering Post

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.]

Party Hard (Gathering Post OTA)

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.)
just_hex: (Schofield Green)
[personal profile] just_hex2016-03-27 02:01 pm

OTA St. Bart's Hospital

He'd gone traveling that day when The Doctor and Ace had turned up. It was The Doctor's way of saying he was sorry, taking Hex to Scutari to be useful during the Crimean war. He was there a month, knee deep in blood and a slave to time. He tried to help the soldiers but he didn't have the tools. It was hard even to get the rest of the medics to wash their bloody hands. He was there a month, a month into the siege, and up turned Florence Nightengale. His idol. It was a biography of her that had spurred him into nursing in the first place. And things went along until The Doctor turned up again and he and Ace brought everything to a head...and that was when Hex got shot. A musket ball pierced his chest and he knew he was dying. The technology and supplies of the time couldn't save him, but it was nothing for 2016 so The Doctor and Ace got him into the TARDIS and back to London. He was treated in his own A&E, given the best of care, and patched up in no time. When he was out of surgery he got his phone from Ace and sent off a text, a long one, just to let them know.

But he had to stay and stay in bed as much as he could stand it. He was bored as could be and sat up in bed, picking at his bread pudding and mashed potatoes. The telly was on and he saw the news about a bomb blast in Lahore and it reminded him too much of what he'd seen in the war. Blood and death.

He clicked the tv off just as the door opened. It was too soon for more medication so he sat up straighter and looked to see who it was.

{One off and EP all in one.

Gathering Post

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.)
jageskro: (my long hair says fuck you)
[personal profile] jageskro2016-01-19 12:46 am

OTA

It was like an itch you knew you weren't supposed to scratch. A lot of things had become clearer to Jag, about himself, since he'd watched Hex's videos, and somehow, the closer it came to the time Val would be back, the more Jag wanted to give in to his 'old' habits and do something really stupid. Start a bar in a fight with an arsehole or two, and get hurt.

It was as far from healthy as he could get, he realised, and that was why he hadn't started a bar fight in over a month now. He was in a bar right now, having a pint and trying to resist the desire to walk over to the bastards in the booth right behind him. Their racist, homophobic conversation wasn't making it easy on him. He was waiting for the misogyny to make an appearance, really. He'd barely touched his pint in the last ten minutes and was gnawing on his thumb's nail, feet propped on his bar stool, one leg bouncing.
goodfellow: (chair)
[personal profile] goodfellow2015-12-31 11:09 am

NYE Gathering Post: Saturnalia

One month ago, one of Soho's trendiest and yet least profitable dance clubs closed its doors. There were rumors for a while that the space was going to be turned into an upscaled gym, or perhaps gutted and chopped up into boutique shopping. But not much of anything seemed to be happening until just after Christmas, when the trucks were constantly parked by the service entrance and there seemed to be a flurry of activity.

Meanwhile, anyone who was anyone received a VIP invitation to the "pre-opening" of SATURNALIA, soon to be London's newest hot spot, but in the meantime hosting a huge party to ring in the new year. Togas optional but encouraged. Also receiving these invitations was anyone who even remotely knew Robin Goodfellow (or Rob Fellows), though his name wasn't on them.

The doors were also open to anyone, a line and bouncer required only because the space could only fit so many. But Robin had instructed the bouncer to be creative if not random with who he let in. As far as he was concerned, pulling in a street urchin or two over the hot starlets would not only improve the atmosphere but be good for business in the long run.

The doors opened at 9pm, and the place filled steadily as midnight approached. Inside, the club was clearly not finished, and there were many trappings from the previous space still in place - a large dance floor, several bars, private rooms, a couple of small stages for performances, an impressive elevated DJ table. For tonight, the theme was clearly one of the decadence of ancient Greek - decorations in gold and white and stone, replications (one would assume) of famous artwork of the time, including a number of statues. A copy of "David" cast in stone was a centerpiece, set up in an area that encouraged partygoers to take selfies.

The bars were not open, but prices were much cheaper than they should have been, coupled by the occasional appearance of Robin in his (somewhat skimpy) toga and gold-cast laureal wreath crown to hand out shots, mead, or wine to random partygoers. The point of the party was clearly not to make money but to build buzz, and from the length of the line outside after a couple of hours it was clearly working.

Gathering Post - Christmas Eve Party

Merry Christmas!
You are invited to celebrate the season with Finlay Flynn and Willy Silver.
 
When: Christmas Eve (5pm – Midnight)
RSVP: By Email (SBMNGR@ldnmgmt893.co.uk) 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!)
london_spy: (sunlight)
[personal profile] london_spy2015-12-07 11:38 pm

Debut (under cut for spoilers)

cut for spoilers )

Standing in the middle of Tesco he glared at a bunch of bananas, as though they'd wronged him somehow. then picked up an orange and added that to his basket as well. This had seemed like a good idea when he'd left the house, but how was he supposed to just buy groceries as though everything was fine when his whole world was falling apart?

(OTA! Please read my post in the OOC com before tagging in! Also, I know the GP is going strong, so late tags, slow tags, ect are all very welcome. I'd love for him to meet lots of people, so don't be shy!)