so_thoughtless: (hmmm)
[personal profile] so_thoughtless
Epimetheus wasn't like Prometheus when it came to powers and magic. He had power, sure, but he'd never mastered it the way his twin had. He hadn't needed to, really. He'd never been trapped in the mortal realm after all, he came and went as he pleased- Using portals. ...Portals he generally had others open for him. However, since he was traveling alone lately, the only way to pop back home for a bit was to crack one open himself, using the only spell he knew to do so. A very blunt spell, honestly, that Prometheus had scolded him time and time again for using. 'Spells like this aren't like garage door openers, you know. They don't just open one portal, they'll open any in range,' the other titan had scolded, though all Epimetheus had said in return was 'What's a garage door?'.

That had been some time ago, but Epimetheus had used the spell many times since. He'd never noticed any ill effects personally, and didn't have the foresight to see how it might go a bit wrong. So this morning when he'd popped home to see Pandora, he'd gone on as he always did- Oblivious to any trouble he might be causing elsewhere.

(Portals are opening and closing all over london, letting things into the city from other places, times, ect. The sky is the limit here! Have anything you want slip through into the city- Or maybe let your pups go stumbling through one themselves? The choice is yours! This post will be open all next week, so tag in and then check back often! As always, we trust you guys not to go too crazy with this power, but please, no wrecking the city or doing anything that might cause gamewide issues without checking in with us first. Also, like any plot, feel free to have your pups sit out or be completely oblivious to the chaos. Assume that Torchwood and the like are keeping it out of the papers. ;) Have fun!)
goodfellow: (playful)
[personal profile] goodfellow
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.


Mar. 8th, 2017 11:30 pm
pecked_by_birds: (\-_-\)
[personal profile] pecked_by_birds
When it came to figuring out where he'd been the past few months, the truth was that the titan had made minimal progress. He knew he'd purchased a vase that contained some of his power, was fairly certain he'd briefly been in Germany, and, at some point, had developed a taste for glazed donuts.

Why hadn't he liked these before? They were wonderful...

He was returning from a trip to the shop that sold the glorious treats, getting ready to open his shop- Only to be greeted by a small pile of dead rooks. Prometheus would never admit to having any sort of avian based fears, but they did make him uneasy. Mostly the live sort were the ones that made his stomach flip, but a pile of dead ones was, well... Enough to leave him deeply unsettled.

"Well, this can't possibly be good," he sighed, sipping his coffee and nudging one of the dead animals with the toe of his shoe. "...Definitely a bad sign."

Frowning, he looked up at the sky and awkwardly flipped it off with the hand that was carrying his paper bagged donuts.

"Miserable, randy old cu- Oh, hello, sorry, I'm just about to open up..."


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?
goodfellow: (Default)
[personal profile] goodfellow
As much as Robin had enjoyed being in New York with Prometheus, he'd grown restless. And now that he was back in London, he realized how much this really did seem like his home now. He loved the city, he loved running the club. He even appreciated the friends that he had here, as much as he still attempted to keep them at arm's length.

Tonight, he made the rounds at Saturnalia dressed in an impeccable plum colored suit with a silver cashmere scarf hanging from his neck. He was already planning for a New Year's Eve party to celebrate the anniversary of that first "unofficial" opening of the club. Perhaps he could make it even better this time.

He was carrying a bottle of good champagne, still cold, and occasionally stopped those with empty glasses (of anything) and offered to refill them. Though now, he tipped his head back and poured some into his mouth before wiping it and looking pleased with himself.

Mini GP

Nov. 30th, 2016 07:41 pm
hollow_moon: (blue shade)
[personal profile] hollow_moon
It was that time of the year, a time that used to fill Valentine with joy. Christmas was so wonderful usually, after all, but not so much this year. He simply wasn't in the holiday spirit. However, he'd planned this charity event months ago, and there was no cancelling it now. 

It wasn't as flash as ones he'd held in prior years, his museum open to the public with collection buckets all over for people to give what they could to ensure a better holiday for those in need. Music filled the space, and there were performers all throughout the space. Yes, he'd had to up security for the evening to keep his many occult related items safe, but- Well, it was worth it, he supposed. If nothing else, it seemed to be enough to stop his mother from worrying so much about him for a bit.

All were welcome and admission was free. The bar was reasonably priced, and there were a few free nibbles donated by a local restaurant. All and all, not a bad night for the bored and the generously inclined.

(Use this like you'd use any GP! OTA)
londoncallingmods: (calling)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
The world at large seemed heavier this week, bad news from across the pond drifting over like a bad storm and raining down on the city. Still, stiff upper lip and all that. If London had stopped every time things had seemed bleak, it would have fallen long ago.

And so life went on, as it must. 

The skies were a bit grey and the streets slightly damp, but the Christmas lights were coming on early this year, and Harrods already had the streets lit up with wonder and sparkle. Cafes and bars followed suit, and twinkling lights were everywhere you looked, casting a much needed bit of whimsy and wonder over the stark looking faces that passed by. It was hard to stay grim when children and adults alike seemed so entranced by it all.

There were plenty of events going on as well. From the Lord Mayor's Show or the Dulwich Christmas Bazaar, to the usual concerts, festivities, and even bowling

London may have looked a bit foggy and miserable, but there was pleanty of joy to be found for those who went looking.

(Gathering post! Just a nice mellow post to combat those post election blues, and balance out the drama from Halloween. As always, this post will be open for at least a week, so tag in and check back often to tag others. <3)
pecked_by_birds: (out)
[personal profile] pecked_by_birds
Honestly, he couldn't say why, but sometimes it wasn't the madness or the pain that drove Prometheus to travel. It was just a itch, a need he had to fulfil. Lately it had been clawing at him again, and though he'd done his best to put it off... New York was calling to him. He needed to go. He'd return to London, of course, he always did after all. Though to ensure he returned sooner rather than later this time, he'd hung a 'Help Wanted' sign in the window of his shop. With any luck he'd find someone to run it in his absence.

Soft music filled the shop, and as usual the titan was behind one of his canvases. Paint tinted the tips of his fingers and was splattered all over his jeans as he neared completion on his latest piece. He'd taken a sharp turn back into realism lately, and dark hues and clear lines presented an image of a ratty looking bookshop on a corner in New York.

(OTA! This is Prometheus' last post until he returns next year, so if you need a chat, now's the time. <3)
lcrpg_npc: (closeup)
[personal profile] lcrpg_npc
It was about to be quite a long stretch of rainy days in London, with only a few cloudy days sprinkled in between. Still, it took more than a little rain to slow down London, and the city was as busy and alive as ever.

Rain also wouldn't stop most of the events happening that coming weekend. From the pubs to the parks, from food festivals to public Wimbledon viewings, there was something happening on every corner.
lcrpg_npc: (night)
[personal profile] lcrpg_npc
While every week is a good week to love yourself and be proud, no week was better time to shout that pride from the rooftops than, well, London Pride. 

From Pride Ride, an epic group cycle through London, to parades, lunches, parties, massive club nights, and even comedy shows and concerts, there was no way anyone could be bored this week. There were ample opportunities to dress up in flashy clothes, reach out and meet other members of the LGBT community, and even just blow off some steam.

Some events of note to look forward to were the Natural History Museum June Lates, the already mentioned Pride RideSecret Soho Saucy Tours, and dozens of other events and fun times.

Something for everyone, and not  dull day in sight.
goodfellow: (dark)
[personal profile] goodfellow
It had taken considerably longer than Robin anticipated, thanks to some building code issues that had pushed back his renovations by months, but following the thrown together "preview" on New Year's Eve (that had gone very well if he did say so himself), Saturnalia was finally officially open for business.

The inside of the club looked somewhat different than it had in January: more polished now, better decorations, furniture, lighting. There was still Greek inspiration, particularly in the murals on the walls - modern, graffiti-inspired versions of Greek art and myths, bright colors splashed amidst chrome industrial decor. Most of the employees (bartenders, dancers) were wearing togas.

The grand opening was a hot ticket, but Robin had sent out invitations generously, and instructed the bouncers at the door to let in the beautiful people as usual, yes, but to be rather random about it as well. After all, what was the fun in only the rich and beautiful?

Alcohol was free flowing, and the music was hot, spun by a DJ on a stage who seemed to have the perfect sense of the crowd. He may have even had a little help by magic. Because why leave these things to chance?
pecked_by_birds: (eyes shut)
[personal profile] pecked_by_birds
He had been back in London for seventy-three hours, twenty-six minutes, and fifteen, sixteen, seventeen... Seconds. He knew that for certain, and there was no need for clocks. No, Prometheus could feel the seconds ticking inside of him.  

Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine...

Upon his return home, he'd locked himself away in his flat, pulling out his paints and canvases and filling them with dark shadows and heavy lines. This form was not like the last he'd worn. It felt wrong and right all at once-  It was all angles and odd lines, sharp bones and pale flesh, highlighted with ginger hair and pale green eyes- Eyes that weren't so different from other forms he'd worn. 

However, when he closed these eyes he could hear waves crashing, and feel the weight of the chains that had once forced him to remain still and suffer.  With his eyes shut, every moment that ticked by sent him spiralling deeper into the darkness he'd spent so long running from. 

The titan's madness had known all kinds of forms. Sometimes quiet, sometimes loud- Often angry, but sometimes... Sometimes it was like a fog. That's how it was now, it seemed. In this form it didn't bring rage, only pain, moments of confusion, and a lingering sadness that weighed him down and made him wish for the one thing he would never have.
Eternal rest.

He couldn't stay in the flat forever though, and today he'd finally ventured out, daring to go shopping for supplies before finally returning to the small second hand shop he called his own. With no fanfare at all, he set about opening the shutters and flipping the sign from closed to open for the first time in months.

Inside the stock was mostly unchanged, the same paintings and books, the same oddities and trinkets. Some very old, some only from a few decades back. The difference this time being the man himself, his looks, and the way he loitered in his own shop. He didn't sit behind the counter reading now, that required a stillness he was struggling with today. Instead he stood with a paintbrush in hand, and a fresh canvas before him that he slowly began to mark in time to the drab, and slightly melancholy, sound of Radiohead.

He didn't look up when he heard someone come in, but he did point his brush at them. 

"I know what you want, but do you?" he asked.


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.
sunsongs: (radio in my head)
[personal profile] sunsongs
“Grab another drink, stretch your legs, do what you’ve gotta do. Just don’t go too far, ‘cause we’ll be back in a few,” Coby says, with a wink for the crowd and a nod to the rest of the band. He finished off the rest of his beer as he followed the other guys off-stage. Dave and Brion headed straight for the bar, and Máire turned toward the ladies’ room, but Coby made a left to go around back of the stage and out the side door.

“Ten minutes, yeah?” the manager reminded him on his way out, either not noticing or not caring when Coby shoved half a brick against the doorjamb to keep it from closing behind him. He really didn’t feel like walking around to the front to get back in, and who knew if somebody would hear him knocking.

The night air was cool after the closeness of the bar and the charge he always got performing, and his skin prickled at the sudden change as he leaned against the wall and breathed deep. The bar was on a corner, the door he’d come out opening on a smaller street than the main entrance, but this time of night there were still plenty of people walking by. Coby hadn’t even been in London two weeks yet; getting caught lighting up on a public sidewalk wasn’t the idea. He still got out his lighter, but for a Marlboro that brought too many memories along with it. Marlboros were Javi’s brand, and the hypocritical bastard had had no problems puffing away on one while telling Coby he shouldn’t smoke so much ‘cause it would fuck up his voice.

“Damn it, Coby, gotta stop with this shit,” he muttered to himself, then glared at the person who’d paused, maybe trying to decide if he was talking to them or just crazy.

Crazy, was the answer, but he tried not to be too obvious about that kind of thing. Besides, that was the idea behind coming to London, right? Get away from things for awhile to get his head on straight again.

[not Coby's specific set list for the night, but for anyone wanting an idea of what it's like - or who just feels like listening to Steve Carlson - a a playlist on youtube]
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!)
pecked_by_birds: (Default)
[personal profile] pecked_by_birds
He'd fallen asleep in America. In fact, he'd fallen asleep in America night after night, lost and suddenly so unsure again. Sanity was fading, and he'd fled London in search of stability.
He'd woken up in Spain. Skin as dark as the earth he'd been chained to replaced by milky white flesh that looked far too fragile and thin. Though when he stared in the mirror, he saw no fragility. He saw the gaze of a titan, the teeth of a survivor, and the grin of a madman. He should have been upset about that last part.
He wasn't.
The plane ride had been brief, and upon finding himself back in London, he'd headed straight for the bar.
“Whiskey, neat, and don't be stingy, dove,” he purred, soft pink lips spitting out each word as he flashed a little too much teeth with his smile.
The barman had gone from charmed to unnerved, as he well should have. Prometheus didn't react though, he only took his drink and surveyed the evening crowd. God he loved London. They were all so lost and so desperate. Love me, notice me, want me. Dull, stupid. His gifts were wasted on these fools, and had he had the strength, he might have burned this pub to the ground, just to remind them all how fragile and brief their lives could be.
Lucky for them, he was still a bit weak.
One drink became several, and soon he was on his way. He walked with feminine grace, but there was nothing soft about him. Nothing sweet. No one who looked at him would see a fragile woman. Perhaps a queen, perhaps a warrior- The truly perceptive might even see the truth. A titian ripe with madness, armed with charm, intelligence, and a dangerous smile.


londoncallingrpg: (Default)
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