Gathering Post - OTA - Back to School

Strange things had been happening in London lately. ...Actually, strange didn't really cover it. Sinister, exceptional, insane, dangerous- Those were all probably better descriptors. What was about to unfold this weekend, however, was something else entirely. A few years ago dozens of Londoners had found themselves transported to a mystery house on Halloween.  That had been a terrifying experience for most, but this- This was terrifying in a very different way.

During the last week of September, handfuls of random Londoners had woken to find themselves in a boarding school known as The Dirgelwch School For Exceptional Youths. Some awoke in the suites and small on ground housing intended for staff, finding themselves unchanged, but with a feeling that this was where they belonged. ...What they were meant to be doing. They knew what subject they taught, they knew their schedules- And though something in the back of their brains nagged at them, letting them know something had changed, they simply couldn't figure out what it was.

Others awoke in dorms, finding themselves having just crossed into adulthood, at the beginning of their last year and itching to graduate. Again, they woke knowing something had changed, but what that thing was felt slightly out of reach.So they went to class, they reconnected with friends after what seemed like a long summer apart. Life went on, as it does, and though it all seemed terribly innocent, there was drama and tension bubbling up inside them all.

(Gathering post! You can have your pup wake up as a teacher or a student. Feel free to invent NPC's, and to assume that even in this strange little AU that magic, vampires, and all those other lovelies are very real. How much your pup has forgotten or remembered about their life prior to this plot is 100% up to you. If you want them to wake up absolutely confused by this whole situation, that's fine (though i hope a few people play along, I think that'll be fun). The boarding school is closed off to the rest of the world (Picture large metal gates and watchful groundskeepers), and the school itself is a lovely old brick fortress of a building, out in the middle of the countryside. Questions or concerns? Pop into the slack! This post will be open for several weeks, but in game will only last a weekend. Have fun! Tag in, check in often!)


OTA

So far his leads and contacts hadn't gotten him any closer to finding Hotch, but Spencer wasn't ready to give up just yet. ...Besides, London was, honestly, a nice change of pace. He missed work, missed his team, but while none of his contacts had gotten him closer to Hotch, one had gotten him work as a criminal psychologist consultant for Scotland yard. The work wasn't steady, but it was something. That, paired with the generosity of a friend who had offered him his flat while he was teaching abroad meant money wasn't as tight as it could have been. For now, he could make this work.

He'd never been a big spender anyway, and so today, with no work on his plate, Spencer was at the library. Settled into a corner near the back, he sat with a stack of books on his left and another on his lap, reading at a slightly slower pace than he might when reading for a case. Though it was still remarkably quick. Spencer devoured text the way a starving man might devour a three course meal, savouring only the best bits and filling himself up swiftly with the rest in an attempt to fight off pangs of hunger.

(OTA: Find Spencer in the library, reading. Or, catch him outside once the library closes. :D Late tags and slow tags welcome.)
akatawitch: (Sleep)
[personal profile] akatawitch2017-07-27 10:35 am

OTA

There wasn’t really a word for Sunny’s mood. It’s wasn’t deep enough for sadness, it wasn’t gray enough for numb. The paper shredder in her belly wouldn’t even properly start up. If anybody asked her, she’d just call it… crying. That was her mood. Crying. Every once in a while, she’d be going about her day and then suddenly she wouldn’t be able to see clearly and her face would be wet. It wasn’t even proper sobbing or anything, her eyes just leaked. Maybe that was the right word--leaking. She didn’t much want to think about what the effect was.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t expected this. Not like Faizel hadn’t told her before about how hard it was to… people, basically. Not like he'd disappeared from her life completely with no way to reach him. There had been a goodbye, and it had been amiable, and she had been able to do it with a smile. She’d even been smart enough to ignore her id’s urging to ask for one last kiss, just because she knew if he’d flinched again she wouldn’t have been able to take it.

It wasn’t like she’d never have feelings for someone again or anything. She wasn’t even twenty-three yet.

But it was like... like she was trying to start her ignition and couldn’t get the engine to turn over. She could do stuff, she wasn’t paralyzed, but she was waiting for the day to actually start and it never quite seemed to do it.

Later in the afternoon she spent a rather aimless hour spent in a bookstore trying to find something that appealed. She tried. She picked things up and read cover blurbs and first pages, but nothing seemed to grab her.

And then she was leaking again, and the shop girl was looking at her funny. She knew this was the time to quip, but there was that cold engine leaving her not without words but without any fire to wield them properly. So she just left. Her vision meant that she bumped into someone she should have seen coming, and this required no particular feelings, so when she smiled and apologized, it was almost normal.

“Sorry,” she said, like her eyes weren’t leaking. “I didn’t mean it.”

GP - Wild Magic 2: Chaotic Evil Boogaloo

London was a magic epicenter of sorts. Between doors to The Otherside, dormant and active portals, and an active wizarding community, it was a hub of energy, more so now than it had been for quite some time. The city was experiencing a magical renaissance of sorts- Which sounded lovely and made it a prime place to be for those exploring and studying magical energies, but wasn't so wonderful for London's more 'normal' sorts.

Magic didn't care if you were a dark lord or a banker, if it liked you, it liked you- And it was impossible to guess who it would like.

Today magic energy was at an all time high. Another blip in the usually somewhat steady stream of power that flowed through the streets. As a result, odd things were afoot- From mischievous inconveniences, to darker disruptions. Unlike the portals, these bothers were a touch more subtle, creeping up unseen on the unsuspecting.

Last time around the magic had seemed lighthearted and playful- And some of it still was, but... There was an intensity to some of it this time, harking back to the troubles that seemed to roll around every Halloween now. Something wicked was caught in the current, and while it wasn't out to harm everyone, it did seem keen to target a few.

(OTA. Just like the last time, the magic can affect your pup however you see fit. Unlike last time, however, some of the magic has taken a darker turn. It doesn't have to do something wicked to your pup, of course, but the option is there now. This post will be open from 7/18-7/28 or longer if needed. Tag in, tag others, and check back often.)
akatawitch: (Blue)
[personal profile] akatawitch2016-01-24 08:40 am

OTA

You're weird lately.

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

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

Is something going on?

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

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

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

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

You're weird lately.

OTA

Everything had been so quiet lately. His work life, his home life, even his mind seemed unusually still lately- And it was, honestly, making Spencer uneasy. It wasn't that he was hoping for a serial killer or anything like that- Even when he was desperate for some mental stimulation and a challenge, he never got quite that dark. But something, anything, had to happen.

...And then it did, and Spencer- Spencer's heart ached, the guilt he felt for daring to wish for more work to do spilling over and weighing him down. And oh, it was always harder when it was children. Always.

Three bodies in two weeks, all between the ages of six and eight. Girls, still in their school uniforms. Dumped, without any signs of remorse from their killer. It was, honestly, the worst case he'd been assigned to since coming to London, and as he stood at the police barrier, having just spoken to the woman who'd spotted the body, he realized that this wouldn't be like it was at home. The police wanted a profile from them, but they hadn't been invited to be a part of the investigation- Leaving Spencer with nothing but photos and paperwork, and the occasional update from the field.

Sitting in a cafe he read the report on the first body for the tenth time, wondering if this was really the best use of his talents. ...Wondering if maybe it was finally time to look at his other options.

Ice Skating and Noms, What More Could You Want? (GP!)

With cold weather rolling in and taking over, it seemed as though London was as eager as it could be to embrace the seasonal traditions of sharp blades on ice and food in faces.

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

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

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

(Gathering post! Set over the weekend, but open all week long to new top levels and tags. Tag in now and check back in often!)

Haunted House GP

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

OTA

It wasn't as if Spencer had never been in a violent and dangerous situation before- He had, on multiple occasions, been held at gunpoint and shot at. So it was safe to assume that wasn't what had him feeling so shaken up this evening, though it had been startling to have a gun aimed at him after so long. Gun violence just wasn't as common here, and most of the cases he'd worked on lately hadn't involved gun violence in any way.

No, what had unsettled Spencer today had been how young the attacker had been. Barely even a teenager... And yet somehow armed, and violently angry.

At the last moment the boy had turned the gun on himself, and now after stacks of paperwork, meetings, briefings, and conversations that had seemed unending, Spencer found himself at a small cafe, staring at his cold coffee and trying to make sense of everything that had happened. ...All while questioning why he kept returning to a job that only left him with too many unanswerable questions, and an uncomfortable weight on his chest.

"I'm sorry sir, but are you planning on ordering anything else? I don't mean to rush you, just we're short on tables tonight," a server said, her voice soft and painfully polite as it snapped Spencer out of his thoughts.

(OTA! Catch Spencer leaving the cafe, or join him at his table.)

OTA

 It had started a week ago. Spencer wasn't completely sure what had triggered it, but he had a feeling it was something to do with the fact that he'd finally read the official report on Tobias Hankel. It was something he'd put off for over a year, but it was always on his mind... It was no surprise really that he'd found himself accessing the file at nearly three in the morning, his laptop not nearly as comfortable as a paper file as it rested on his knee.

Only a day later he was having nightmares. ...By the end of the week he was craving something he hadn't wanted in a very long time.

Getting over his addiction to dilaudid had been hard, and the temptation to return to it was constant even when Spencer was at his best. So when the itch started to become unbearable, he finally forced himself to return to his meetings, sitting near the back and taking comfort in the fact that he was surrounded by people who were struggling with the same things. ...It made him feel less alone. Less weak.

After the meeting he'd made his way to his favourite coffee shop, where he sat at his usual table, with his usual order, and his usual stack of books. His gaze was slightly sunken, and his face gaunt and tired as he sipped his coffee with one hand, and turned pages with the other.

OTA

 Unlike Hotch, Spencer had gotten used to being unarmed most of the time fairly quickly. He didn't miss the gun that had once hung from his hip any time he was in field, and he didn't find himself reaching for it at all when he was on the job.

However, he was aware that being unarmed left him much more vulnerable. He wasn't as strong as Hotch, he couldn't depend on brute strength to get by in a bad situation. It was that thought that had led him here, to a small studio in the centre of London, not far from his office. Most nights it served as a dance instruction studio, but tonight it had been full of people wanting to learn self defence.

The class was long and harder than he'd expected, and though he'd had time to shower and change, Spencer was still looking flushed as he stepped outside into the surprisingly warm night.
just_hex: (BW Profile)
[personal profile] just_hex2015-06-06 01:55 pm

OTA

Hex had been working his bloody arse off for this competition. He'd been lifting and working on poses, he'd dieted and cut salt to make sure he was as vascular as possible to earn those extra points, and even though he knew it was terrible for his skin he'd been tanning enough to get a good color. His speedo was the same colour as his eyes. With butterflies in his stomach he took the stage with the other competitors.

The crowd was mad. Loud as hell, but with the stage lights Hex couldn't actually see anyone but the judges.

When he did his poses he could hear Caro and Mark hooting in the audience but he kept himself from smiling until he was done.

In the end he didn't win top prize, but he took second which wasn't bad. He got a trophy and the praise of one of the judges on the definition of his abs and back. He was puffed with pride and after a quick clean up and dressing he joined the crowd for the reception afterward in the lobby of the theater.

OTA

Spencer wasn't teaching any more, but he was still lecturing now and then, and doing recruitment pitches for the FBI. Spencer honestly didn't know why the FBI insisted on sending him out for those sorts of things, but he imagined it was based solely on his youth, not his ability to connect with other young people.

Honestly, he found it all a bit stressful. No one ever laughed at his jokes, and he was painfully aware of how odd students tended to find him. 

As a result he was looking a bit low as he made his way off campus, ready to go home and hide beneath a stack of books.

OTA

"Honestly, it all happened very fast," Valentine said, his brow creased in concern as he spoke to the agent. "I didn't even recognize him until you showed me his photograph just now- But yes, it was him, that actor. He was having a cigarette and talking to a man in a dark hooded sweatshirt. I couldn't see his face, but I saw his hands- They were pale. Whiter than you or I."

"Could you tell me anything else about him?" Spencer pressed gently.

"He was much taller than the other man- The actor, he was a very petite man, but the other man was taller- Nearly my height, I think, but heavier. Not overweight, but not trim, and not muscular," Val replied, hating that he couldn't be more help. "Surely there's CCTV footage of where they went next..."

Spencer just smiled, unable to share anything more. "Thank you for your help, Mr. Collingwood. Please, don't hesitate to get in touch if you remember anything else."

Valentine nodded, still looking a bit pale and startled as he stood on the pavement, looking over to where he'd seen a young man stabbed and hauled away. There was still blood on the ground, the wolf inside could smell it. ...He only wished the wolf could do something more.

Spencer returned to the small group of officers, waiting to interview the next person, and watching as the press slowly started to gather. That was the problem with celebrity abductions and attacks. You couldn't keep them quiet. Not now that everyone seemed to document every moment of their days...

He could hear one of the officers speaking to the press, and he frowned. This wasn't how they did things back home- It was too soon to be making statements.

At seven thirty this morning, Finley Alexander Flynn was attacked and abducted by an unknown man. We're asking that anyone with any information on this man, or Mr. Flynn's whereabouts, come forward to aid our investigation...

(OTA Tag Spencer or Valentine! Also check the OOC com shortly for more information on Fin's abduction.)

Gathering - West End

 The evening was crisp as people flooded the West End for a night of fun. Restaurants and cafe's were full early and late, catering to the theater crowds that came for supper before their shows and dessert after. The theaters had various plays and musicals, many with big name stars- others with up-and-comers. The lights were bright and the atmosphere festive.
 
People wandered up and down the sidewalks and the traffic was thick. In the dark there were pickpockets but for the most part the crowds were safe.
 
It promised to be a good run for most of the shows if the atmosphere was any indication.

OTA

The day had started off like any other. A morning full of paperwork, a lunch involving a salad he didn't really want... Then a few hours at his desk reviewing cases and a meeting with his boss. Normal things. ...Mundane things. Things he could do in his sleep.

Honestly, as pleased as Spencer was to be back in the field, he had to admit that he didn't feel as challenged here as he had back home. Partly because it was so rare that they were invited in on any cases- And partly because the cases they were invited in on were so straight forward and, well, normal- For lack of a better word. It was to be expected he supposed, statistically speaking at least, that there would be less cases, and that the cases they did have would veer towards the traditional. However, knowing that didn't stop his mind from yearning for a challenge. ...And as a result, he found himself spending more and more time with cold cases.

One in particular had become a bit of a fixation. A series of murders that seemed to stretch from Turkey to Scotland- All with the same MO, and the same signature- Yet also without any leads or even prime suspects, a fact that had only left Spencer even more interested. After nearly a month of digging he'd finally stumbled onto something solid, a lead strong enough that he'd started pulling the files of officers who'd been involved in the original investigation.

Though even with a working theory, he hadn't been certain he was on the right track. ...Not until tonight.

He had been sitting at his usual table at his usual cafe, his coffee getting cold on the table in front of him as he combed through file after file. He only tore himself away from it all long enough to ask the girl behind the counter if she had a spare pen. It only took a moment, however, upon returning to the table he found a letter waiting for him. Using the tip of his freshly borrowed pen, Spencer opened it, Frowning at the sight of a single sentence, typed out in bold letters and all caps.

LEAVE IT ALONE.

Glancing around, he couldn't see anyone suspicious, and he had to assume that whoever had left the note hadn't lingered to see his response. Reading it again, he brought his cold coffee to his lips, taking a sip and then immediately spitting it out into a napkin. A bitter tang lingered in his mouth, and as he pulled the plastic lid off atop the paper cup, he instantly felt ill. ...It was impossible not to see the very large, and very dead, rat inside.

Gathering: Spring is in the air

While December had been kind to the city, January had proven to be more fickle. Winter had shown its face, and while it was hardly the roughest ever seen, dark clouds, snow and wind had still dominated the scene.

February could bring anything, but it hardly mattered today. Today, London was bathing in the sun, bringing with it a sense of freshness, clarity and renewal. Spring, while far away meteorologically, was in the air.

It pleased the men and women in the market stalls, selling their wares in the open air. Spring meant happy customers and happy customers were buying customers.


((A generic market GP; tag in, tag all, tag whatever marketplace you like))

OTA

"Actually, so far the only similarity between these murders and the Ripper case is the missing organs, and even that wasn't present in each Ripper victim. Out of the five canonical murders, Nichols was not missing any organs; Chapman's uterus was taken; Eddowes had her uterus and a kidney removed, and Kelly was missing her heart," Spencer told the man standing beside him on line at the cafe- Who'd made the mistake of comparing a recent string of murders in modern day London, to the work of Jack the Ripper. The man was holding a copy of some weekly rag, which featured a headline that warned anyone who was dim enough to read it that the Ripper was 'Back from the Dead',
 
"This new killer doesn't have a gender preference, and hasn't targeted a single prostitute. The crime scenes are elaborate and almost artistic- The victims are often mutilated, but never out of rage..."
 
The man cut the young doctor off with a wave of his hand, clearly not interested in his thoughts on the case. "Look, wot-ever, mate. I'm just sayin', I'll not be letting my girls out after dark 'till he's caught."
 
Spencer nodded a bit, biting his tongue and deciding the man probably didn't want to hear how unlikely it was that his daughters would be targeted next.
 
"I bet it's a foreigner," the woman behind him whispered. "Some unemployed filth."
 
Spencer looked puzzled by that, then shook his head. "Actually, it's much more likely that he's a wealthy older man- Caucasian, mid thirties to late fifties. Wealthy, well spoken and educated..."
 
The woman rolled her eyes at him and turned to the gentleman holding the paper, ignoring Spencer's profile in favour of gossip.



(OTA catch Spencer on line, or just after he orders his coffee. Or catch him as he leaves the cafe. :D)
 
just_hex: (A-Shirt)
[personal profile] just_hex2015-01-14 08:46 pm

OTA

Hex didn't drink but that didn't stop him from going out. He'd begged Spencer to come with, and then had made himself ready and had gone out. Skin tight black A-shirt, tight blue jeans that hugged his bum, a loose shirt he had bought simply to 'lose' at the club when it got too hot. He'd done his hair up a bit and he had on boots good to dance in. He was set.

It was always a bit of torture passing by the bar. The impulse to have just one was always present. But he was resolute and passed it by on his way to the dance floor.

The beat was heavy and the lights dim. He could get lost in the rhythm and forget the day. Days. Nights. He could grind on beautiful men and even a few women- it was just dancing- and he could let it all go. He could be young and beautiful and not worry about anything.

Hex was dancing with two girls who said they wanted to go out and smoke and asked him to come. It didn't seem they were flirting and when they got outside Hex realized they knew he was gay and were using him as a human shield against the blokes who were ready to prey on vulnerable girls. He didn't mind a bit. But when they were done smoking he sent them back inside and he stood out front for just a moment, lost in thought.

Good old Hex, always good for a helping hand.

Hex sighed, wondering if he'd ever find someone. Someone who saw him as something...more.

(Find him in the club or outside on the street, early or late is cool!)

Gathering Post - Happy Holidays

It was Christmas Eve in London, and all around the city people were out and about. Enjoying various parties, grabbing last minute gifts... Enjoying the lights and décor around the city. London was always beautiful, but in December it truly sparkled.

Outside shops, people collected toys and money for charities, hoping for last minute kindness from strangers to make the holiday even brighter for those in need. However, as the night fell, many shops shut early- While many bars and clubs did quite the opposite, opening their doors earlier and inviting people in.

All around there was bustle and lights, making the city appear even more alive than usual.

(Gathering post! Timed to Christmas Eve (day or night), but open all week long! Tag in, tag others, and check back often! Happy Holidays guys!)