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

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

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

Debut - OTA

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

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

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

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

Granted, paying attention to the pendulum meant he wasn't paying attention to what was in front of him. So when he bumped into someone, he stumbled back a few steps, surprised, and raised his gaze. "Sorry," he said. "Didn't see you there."
harrowgate: by unopened (sparkle)
[personal profile] harrowgate
If there was one bar in the city where Felix was least likely to get in trouble, it was, ironically, the Blood Diamond. His usually vast array of potentially disastrous life choices was severely limited, surrounded as he was by vampires -- who, by their very nature, were entirely off-limits for him -- and the sorts of mortals who preferred this kind of atmosphere. Here, Felix could drink and dance and flirt, and remain largely confident that he wouldn't do anything to which Shannon might ultimately object.

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

Breathless after dancing, Felix draped against the bar, dangling a double bourbon on the rocks from one elegant hand, having waved off the offer of one of the signature cocktails from the bartender. He lounged as if he were the one holding court, and surveyed the room, with a tempting curve of his lips that invited approach... and hid the sharp diamond spikes behind his smile.
lcrpg_npc: (night)
[personal profile] lcrpg_npc
The repurposed railway arches that housed Beagle's bar and restaurant were decked in shades of black: black christmas trees glittering with sparkly and satiny black ornaments, black wreaths with perfectly tied bows, black garlands draping along the walls and bar, ribbons edging the long banquet benches in the restaurant dining room. A gentle snow seemed to fall from the ceiling, a specially designed lighting effect much more pleasant than the cold and wet that would've accompanied real snow. Christmas music played over hidden speakers, setting the mood without interfering with conversation.

The Kraken Black Christmas feast was a different spin on the holiday than you'd find most places, and yet, a christmas feast all the same. All the flavors of the season were there, both in the bar's specialty cocktails and in the feast itself, served banquet-style to those fortunate enough to get tickets - mulled wine, egg nog, roasts and stuffing and puddings, and so much more. Yet the food and drinks all shared the same theme as the decor, shades of black augmented with squid ink, charcoal, or black sesame seeds.

Guests had been encouraged to continue the theme with black festive attire, but it wasn't required, and spots of color could be found here and there along the table or mingling in the bar. There was one thing everyone could agree on, though. No matter how black the theme, the mood was anything but dark.
willysilver: (Smile Blue)
[personal profile] willysilver
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!]
goodfellow: (playful)
[personal profile] goodfellow
It was early in the evening for Saturnalia, London's hottest new nightclub. Early enough that most showing up at the door were getting in, and the music was only just loud enough to be heard through the open door guarded by an incredibly attractive, well-muscled bouncer wearing a toga. Yes, it was gimmicky. Robin didn't care; it worked. He was making money hand-over-fist in this place. Not that that was why he was doing it, but it was a nice metric for success, which was something that interested him. Also he was getting laid spectacularly and as often as he liked.

He'd just arrived for the evening, and was lingering outside first, watching the line of people, watching the reactions from passersby who looked but didn't stop.

He dangled a cigarette between his lips, not because he was smoking it, but because the appearance of smoking made him look less conspicuous just standing outside on the sidewalk.

"Come on in, the water's fine," he offered with a lascivious smirk to the next person to walk by, not even paying attention to who it was. What did it matter? He wanted all of London in his club.
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?
toujours_impur: (Default)
[personal profile] toujours_impur
Set to May 3rd, 2016

Sirius finds Peter Pettigrew shortly after the death of James and Lily. Unfortunately, the spell Peter casts has an unexpected side effect. Luckily, Remus finds the newly-displaced Padfoot and takes him home to catch him up on the situation he now finds himself in.
[link|rated PG|complete]
just_hex: (Schofield Green)
[personal profile] just_hex
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.
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.)

OTA

Jan. 9th, 2016 04:11 pm
wandandawolf: (Default)
[personal profile] wandandawolf
Not for the first time in his life, Remus got up and looked at London. The Ministry had arranged for a stipend and an apartment in town: and with typical Ministry efficiency and precision had gotten him a flat in one of the new developments in Docklands, not far from Canary Wharf. It was the sort of thing that most people would be fighting over in an auction and the Ministry thought it wasn't 'too flash' because most of their maps of Muggle London dated from the 1860s.

So in the morning, Remus had a cup of tea, some fruit with yoghurt from the fridge, and simply sat on the couch in a dressing gown and enjoyed the view. The city spread out below into the distance: he could see grey city block after grey block, with the London Eye and Westminister tucked in behind the Eye, and the Thames winding through the landscape. It was all so different, and every morning, it was all so present. Sirius would have loved exploring it, until he got bored, and Lily and James would have taken Harry to all the museums, and - no.

Not for the first time of late, Remus felt a stranger in his own town. So after breakfast, he did his usual: he showered, slapped on some clothes, and prowled the streets a little with his wand tucked away safely. He had a notebook with him, and a pencil, with a list of all the shops and places he remembered from 1980, and he was slowly working through and crossing most of them off....

A wizard-friendly jewelers his father had liked to used was still trading, and the son-of-the-father who had served Remus' father remembered him. But all Remus could think about there was his mother's wedding ring, and the little locket he'd bought Lily and the spells he'd bound into it, and so he walked on.

In the other pocket of his tweed jacket, he had a battered copy of Milton. There wasn't much to do with his days other than park himself at a cafe and read, nursing a pot of cooling tea for hours. He had to decide something at some point, he knew he did. Just not yet.

It had been a bustling Friday, for all the sharpness of the wind: Londoners out and about, tourists thronging the pavement, a mix of scents and sounds to assault the senses. Easier to stick his nose in a book and shut it all out.

The evening crept up on him gradually, and Remus curled the thick scarf he had around his neck, jamming a flat cap on and tugging on some gloves. They only lasted until he found the nearest pub, a hive and dive of pretty young things doing what pretty young things did best. Standing at the bar, he perused the liquors on display, before selecting something that looked a vile yellow. He didn't easily get drunk thanks to a certain enhanced constitution, but trying to get absolutely wasted had more appeal these days than it used to.

"Augh," was his reaction: it was sickly-sweet and so, so strong. "That is absolutely vile, and I will definitely have another." He grinned at the person next to him, a little manic, a little too desperate to be joyous: "Would you like to join me?" Money was not a problem. Company was.

[Have a Remus. Feel free to meet him anywhere on his journey: bump into him on the street, find him at a cafe, or chat to him in a pub. Most supernatural types should tell he's a lycanthrope wizard a mile away.]

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