finlay_flynn: (sly)
[personal profile] finlay_flynn
Filming had run later than expected, and Fin was tired and hungry as he made his way home. He could have taken a car, but that just- It never felt right, it wasn't him. Instead he'd taken the tube most of the way, the carriage empty and quiet as it clacked along the tracks underground. With his headphones on, the fae closed his eyes, allowing his magic to rest. 

He only opened them when he felt an odd crackle of power sparking around him, his magic focusing as he sat up straighter and removed his headphones. The lights in the carriage were flickering, and vines and dead leaves were scattered across the floor now- Though none of that was as jarring as the creature suddenly sitting across from him. It was pitch black, so dark it seemed to swallow any light that touched it, but it's eyes... They were bright and yellow, like no animal or beast he'd ever seen. The air around them felt colder, and Fin exhaled with a shiver, about to speak when the creature raised his hand and the world went dark.

It was three hours later when Fin came around, standing in a club, wearing clothes he didn't recognise and only dimly aware that he'd been dancing with someone. His head ached, and he felt like he'd drank too much too quick, a heavy feeling sitting in his gut leaving him hungry without an appetite. Someone was pawing at him, urging him to keep dancing, but Fin pulled away, stumbling towards the restrooms. 

Leaning against the sink, Fin eyed his reflection, shocked by how pale and wild he looked. There were bruises on his neck, love bites, and he felt... He felt different, more fae than usual, his magic crackling through him, refusing to be contained. Usually that would have bothered him, but in that moment he just didn't care. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered, and he felt fearless as he splashed his face with water and headed back out to the crowd.

Eventually he stumbled out onto the street, that magic of his that made some people want him still coming off him in waves as he leaned against the side of the building and lit his last cigarette.

(OTA. Fin's magic is going a bit wild on him at the moment, so if you think your pup would be effected by that, feel free. It tends to make people desire him, but can also bring out violent tendencies, and often violent and sexual desires at the same time. However, how that effects your pup, or if it would effect them at all, is up to you. He is looking extremely fae at the moment, very pale and sharp, and probably a bit wild and unkempt. Find him on the street or in the club.)
finlay_flynn: (fox - fooof)
[personal profile] finlay_flynn
This was, maybe, not the best idea he'd ever had, but ever since the day his magic had first shown him the wonder of transmutation, Fin had found he spent quite a bit of his free time as a fox. It was good for napping (especially on Will's pillow or lap), good for running around, didn't use nearly as much energy as channelling his magic into the ability to see... But for the most part he kept it inside the flat. He could still only turn into the fluffy white fox after all, and that made wandering outside quite hard.

He was desperate to run wild in the park like he had with Phouka that one day though. He couldn't explain it, but he itched for it the way he craved a cigarette in the morning. His magic wanted it- And so Fin had set about finding a way to make it possible. It had taken a bit of practice, but he was slowly mastering the art of obfuscating himself- Something he wished he'd mastered back when the paps had been on his case constantly. He wasn't an expert, but he was good enough that anyone without a touch of magic, or the like, wouldn't be able to spot him. ...Yeah, that was it. That was the whole plan to be honest. Hardly a work of genius, but it would do.

Finding a quiet spot in the park to shift hadn't been hard, and soon enough the little white fox was fleeing around in the grass. He chased birds, dug a few holes- Even found a pond to wash his paws in- Only to go fleeing around all over again. Though he did eventually wear himself out, flopping down near a tree and looking up at the stars that had become visible as night had crept in.

If someone would bring me food, this would be perfect,
he thought, the words audible to anyone willing to listen, and his swishing tail visible to anyone looking.

(OTA, but be aware that only magic users can see and hear Fin currently. If he knows you and you're not magic, I can work with that too. He'd reveal himself to a friend. ^_^ Also he's not going to stay a fox the whole time, I promise. :P)
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.)

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."

goodfellow: (Default)
[personal profile] goodfellow
It was exactly one year since the pre-opening of Saturnalia, and the club had become even more successful than its proprietor had anticipated. In celebration, he opened its doors again for a blow-out of a New Year's Eve party, bringing back the theme of Greek decadence from the year before. Now, mingled against the typical industrial decor of the club (smattered with graffiti style murals of Greek myths), there were decorations of white and gold and reproductions of famous artwork, including a replica of the David statue in the middle of the floor.

Many in London had received invitations, including anyone with even the most distant connection to Robin Goodfellow, along with extra invitations as well. There was also a line outside, and the bouncers had been instructed to allow people in with some amount of randomness. After all, what fun was there in a party only filled with the rich and beautiful?

Unlike last year there was no expectation of any particular dress code, though there were many dancers and employees in the crowd in the skimpiest of togas to admire.

Alcohol was for sale, bartenders were talented, and also those employees in skimpy togas made their way through the crowd with shots and glasses of champagne on a regular basis. There were many dark corners and private rooms, and the music even made for dancing was sexy. All in all, it was clear that the theme of the night was modern hedonism.
finlay_flynn: (coat down)
[personal profile] finlay_flynn
He'd been on set most of the day, working on something that wouldn't air for several more months. It was nice to be working though, his magic and the potion Faizel had crafted for him making his vision passable and eyes clear looking. There were a lot of questions, of course, and quite a bit of gossip too- However, Fin had learned his lesson, and rather than make up lies about how he'd healed, he simply told the press and those who asked that it was personal, and that he didn't wish to dwell on it.

The aftermath of his party a few days ago still had him in a bad place though, and for all he should have been pleased to be working again, smiles were hard to come by.

Presently he was sitting outside the BBC office, perched on the steps and smoking. He was staring at his phone, aware he ought to call an uber- But struggling to focus enough to actually do so. He just felt so worn down, emotionally and physically, and he'd spent all the energy he'd had to push through it all on set. There was simply none left to aid him now.

It wasn't like him to be so down though, to let the problems of the past and present eat away at him so- And he told himself it was just a side effect of the season, rather than admit that, perhaps, the things he'd buried, the feelings he'd ignored, were just finally making their way to the surface.

OTA

Sep. 9th, 2016 06:34 pm
im_torchwood: (Default)
[personal profile] im_torchwood
Jack had been working on a very special project for the past year. He was going to figure out how to pull something through the rift in Cardiff if it killed him...again. He'd had some success with hooking his vortex manipulator to the Hub tech, but it wasn't enough. He needed the resources of Torchwood at Canary Wharf and so back to London he came.

And when he got here he'd made a command decision and had 'enlisted' some help. It had been easy. Easier than he'd dreamed. And now he had the help he needed for the small price of sharing tech.

Today found him taking a break and he took a stroll through the park at dusk, just as the lights were coming on and the temperature was dropping. He loved autumn. He loved the smell of dying leaves and the bite of rain in the air.

He needed to get back to the lab to see if there was any progress with the dimensional barrier, but for now he stopped at a cart to get himself a cup of chai to sip on the way back to his rig.

OTA

Jan. 6th, 2016 06:23 pm
winter_wisp: (sing)
[personal profile] winter_wisp
Being mortal was boring. B. O. R. I. N. G. He couldn't fly, couldn't be small, couldn't talk to Philip or the cats, couldn't play in the tiny house Fin and Will had bought him. ...But that wasn't the worst part. No, the worst part was he didn't feel like a pixie. Even in Aspid's cage, he'd been a pixie, he'd been himself. Now? Now he wasn't sure who he was.

His hair had gone white again, and though he'd spent his pocket money on hot chocolate with extra cream, he did not feel the familiar buzz. It was sweet and pleasant enough, but boring. ...The world was boring. The answer to that boredom, in his opinion, would be to buy a mortal game to play- But games cost money, and without his powers Winter had no way of convincing people to simply give it to him. ...He would have to work.

After a lot of thinking and sulking, he'd settled on busking as Fae Willy did, going home and finding his little keyboard. Fin had noticed what he was up to, and after eyeing the tiny cat shaped keyboard had offered to take him to buy a proper one- One Winter could pay him back for later. Not a gift, but a loan.

Armed with a proper keyboard and a microphone, Winter had spent the day practising. Music came quite naturally to the pixie, and with a fair amount of songs to play he'd set out to find a good spot near the park, where he'd quickly set up and started playing. An hour later and his jar was half full, and he was smiling as he played one of his favourite songs from Fin's magic little box of tiny singing mortals- The radio, Fin called it.

When he finished he was smiling, pleased that he'd made some money, and feeling a touch less miserable about the whole mortal thing. Enough so that he thought he might call it a night and go get a beer. ...Just one this time.
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!)
londoncallingmods: (calling)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
The best thing about London was that there was always something to do, no matter what your interests were. This weekend there was a jazz festival in Bloomsbury, an ale festival that would take you through a drunken train tour of the city, an African culture festival near Covent Garden, and several movie screenings, parties, and other pockets of fun.

Tourists were flooding in from all over, and many Londoners were slipping off to, or coming back from, their latest trips to Barcelona, Paris, or Ibiza. The weather was warm, and it had been fairly dry and sunny lately- Really, it was the perfect place to be right now. ...At least that's what anyone who wasn't heading off to some tropical wonderland would tell you at least.

As day faded into evening, bars came alive and shop windows lit up, inviting in tourists and locals alike. The city buzzed well into the night, calming only briefly in the morning, before bursting back into life again.

(Have your pup be anywhere in the city you like. This GP is intended to take place over the course of Sat and Sun, but will be open all week long! Remember to add your pup's tag after you tag in!)

OTA

Jun. 10th, 2015 05:59 pm
finlay_flynn: (look left)
[personal profile] finlay_flynn
His vision was only getting worse and worse, and after a morning at the doctors hearing nothing but bad news, he'd had to resist the temptation of just going home and hiding under the covers. Instead he'd gone to meet some American director at Stanley's urging. The man apparently wanted to make a film based on Reap, Fin's well received play, and though Fin wasn't sure how it would work, he'd agreed to have lunch and chat about it. 

They'd lunched at The Ivy, and were now back at the man's hotel room, chatting about who Fin would most like to see play the lead role. In jest he told the man he'd only ever pictured himself in the role, causing the American to laugh and rest his hand on Fin's knee.

"I like your ambition," the director said, his hand creeping just a bit too high as he spoke.

"It's not ambition, it's just-"

But the man cut him off, kissing him- Much to Fin's surprise. The man wasn't aggressive, but he was certainly forward, and it took more effort than Fin was comfortable with to convince him to stop.

"Oh come on," the American laughed. "You ask for a lead role and then balk at a little heavy petting? I don't buy for a moment that you're that clueless- Or that innocent. You think I haven't been following your little media circus?"

Fin was on his feet, fixing his clothes, but he frowned at that. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Oh, please. Come on. You're letting them make some cheep TV flick about your abduction. One week you're blind, the next week you can see a bit. How much of that shit's even real? You even blind at all?" he laughed, reaching for Fin's sunglasses, then snatching him off his face with a chuckle.

"Please give them back," Fin said softly, holding out his hand and fighting to keep his calm.

"Take 'em, they're right here, sweetheart," the American replied.

Fin squinted, but the world was just shadows and blurred light today. He couldn't even be sure where the man was standing now. "Keep them," he muttered, turning away and unfolding his can as he let himself out the room and made his way back down to street level.

His breath hitched slightly as he started to walk, and though he was usually careful he was moving a bit too quickly. Even with his cane out, he wasn't very focused, and after nearly walking into traffic once, and a postbox, he managed to crash right into someone.

"Oi, wot-chit, yeah?" the man said, annoyed, but taking a moment to hand Fin his cane back.

"You watch it!" Fin snapped.

"Fucking celebrities think they own this fucking town," a woman muttered, and Fin's cheeks went red as he rushed to the corner and tried to hail a cab.
londoncallingmods: (Default)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
The weather this weekend was cool and dry, perfect for the festivals that were going on outside the city, and the many events going on within the city itself. There were poetry readings and plays in the west end, an art crawl happing near one of the universities, and a free lecture series going on not far from that...

Bars had opened their outdoor seating areas, allowing people to smoke while they sipped a pint. Cafes overflowed with tourists and locals alike, sipping their teas and coffees as they enjoyed a lack of rain. snapping their selfies and texting their mates.

Shops were having side walk sales, from the high street to the small boutiques. Clothes and baubles hung on racks and displays, glittering in the sun and attracting the gaze of everyone who walked by.

There was life and colour everywhere, the grey of winter lifting and allowing London to shine for a little while.

(Gathering posts are open for several days, so be sure to check back often to see who else has tagged in. Set your top level anywhere in the city!)

Debut! OTA

May. 12th, 2015 09:08 pm
ilowell: (Default)
[personal profile] ilowell
Lowell hadn't been back in London for long, and it was still weird going back to his old haunts and seeing them with new eyes. Maybe it was experience. Maybe it was the not-quite-alive thing. Maybe it was the shifting personality thing. Yeah, it was definitely just the zombie thing.

The worst of it was the food; nothing tasted the same. In fact, nothing tasted like much of anything at all. Before coming out today he'd made an attempt to make something resembling egg salad out of brains, and it had just tasted like... brains. Though worse was that they were unknown brains, and so he figured some new and exciting personality or set of memories would kick in soon. How this had become so rote he had no idea. At least he'd laid down a track last night while he was feeling like himself.

And maybe it was this desire for normalcy that had him at his favorite cafe in the city, sitting outside in the sunshine (at least he didn't burn despite the fact that his skin was practically translucent) drinking tea. Even if the tea tasted like hot water.

He carried a bottle hot sauce around with him wherever he went, and he pulled it out of his messenger bag now and shook some of it into his earl grey before taking a drink.

Ugh. Why did he even bother.

OTA

Apr. 23rd, 2015 10:48 pm
alcuin: (Default)
[personal profile] alcuin
It had been a while since anyone had randomly recognized Alcuin. He credited this in part to the fading memory of the city (despite the tabloid flair-up around the holidays), and in part to his decision to cut his hair. He'd also taken to wearing glasses, which were a prescription weak enough that he'd typically gone without them in the past, but he was spending considerably more time in front of a computer these days than he had when Anafiel was alive. Maybe it was a little Clark Kent of him, but he definitely wasn't noticed as much this way. And it wasn't even just being recognized, but he also got less attention. Which caused... more conflicting emotions than he would have anticipated.

In any case, this all resulted in his looking like a rather normal young man sitting at an outdoor cafe drinking coffee and reading a copy of Jon Ronson's new book So You've Been Publicly Shamed. It struck a bit of a chord with him, to be honest. He was glad he hadn't spent much time on social media last year. He really didn't want to know what Twitter had thought of him.

The cafe was busier than usual, perhaps due to the weather being nice, and it was a Friday just late enough for people to skip out of work early. He reached over and took his bag out of the other seat at his table in case anyone wanted to join him, as there were no more empty seats around.

OTA

Apr. 8th, 2015 12:27 pm
im_torchwood: (Soldier Blue Vortex)
[personal profile] im_torchwood
After John Hart, after Gray, Jack couldn't be in Cardiff. He was Torchwood now, not just what he did but who he was, and he had a small crisis and had to get away. Although he'd broken with London's Torchwood after the incidents at Canary Wharf (which it seemed the population had either forgotten or written off) Jack found himself in England's jewel. He was ready to make a new start. And, he reckoned, the Doctor would probably visit London before Cardiff if truth be told.

He'd settled into the subterranean Hub that Alice and Emily had worked in. It had been long forgotten in favor of the building of steel and glass that had been built atop it. Bloody Torchwood...they were supposed to be secret. He'd made his contacts and had put himself to work. But even Jack needed to eat.

He had all of the city to choose from and rather than just go to a pub Jack stood on the sidewalk looking at his mobile reading Yelp reviews. There was a place just down the block and around the corner. Yelp was good and all but he kind of wanted a real opinion so he looked up from his screen and he smiled at the first person whose eye he caught.

"Excuse me...do you know if this place is any good?" he asked, showing the screen. His American accent immediately marked him as a tourist, even though he wasn't.

OTA

Apr. 7th, 2015 11:53 pm
logan_echolls: (<_<)
[personal profile] logan_echolls
His knuckles connected with skin, and for the first time in days, Logan felt alive.

He honestly couldn't remember what the fight had started over, but it had begun in a bar and spilled out onto the street in a matter of moments. He wasn't winning, Logan was sure of that, but he honestly didn't care. Even as he crashed to the pavement and the other man's boot made contact with his gut, Logan only laughed through the pain.

His lip was bleeding, and his cheek was already bruised- Still, the fight wasn't slowing down at all, and likely wouldn't end until someone stepped in- Or one of them stopped breathing.

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