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

London couldn't claim to be the city of love, but it was certainly a city of possibilities.

OTA

Jan. 22nd, 2017 09:02 pm
akatawitch: (Wilderness)
[personal profile] akatawitch
Putting a fist in someone’s face had no business feeling so good, but for Sunny it was sweeter than anything in this moment.

Catcalls were a part of life for a woman, and normally in the interest of getting the hell out of there as soon as possible her response would be something along the continuum of ignoring it to shouting something back. But she would keep moving. Moving away.

She couldn’t do that today. It wasn’t just some complete idiot stranger shouting what on the surface was a compliment on her ass. It was political bullshit, it was protest marches, it was school stress, it was winter blah, it was friends in terrible relationships, it was sexual frustration, it was feelings that were too big for the little container she was trying to keep them in, it was her father’s weird face when she’d finally told her parents she was seeing someone.

It was too much.

She’d roared and rounded, and then he was on the ground with a bloody nose and looking up at her with stunned terror in his eyes while she stood over him and yelled.

“Get the fuck up, bomboy!”

((Sunny can be anywhere that’s convenient for you. By the way, she basically called our nameless sleaze a manchild))

OTA

Dec. 19th, 2016 03:34 pm
borgiafatale: (guileless)
[personal profile] borgiafatale
After nearly a year in Milan, Lucrezia was happy to be back in London. She'd missed it. This was her city, her family's city. Her father at least seemed to think he owned it, and perhaps he would someday, given the current gossip around the next PM elections. He'd made some very politically effective speeches lately, coming off as particularly compassionate, meaning he was plotting something.

It was probably a little too fast that she'd agreed to take the long term modeling contract that would take her away from London for so long. She hadn't asked Allan first. And when she told him, she'd pointed out that it was probably her last opportunity since she would age out of modeling soon enough. But he hadn't cared, not one bit. He was probably relieved. Glad she'd be away and he could stop hiding his mistress, whoever she was. Just as Lucrezia took the job in part to get away from him, from his cheating and drinking. Michael had seemed so certain that his drinking would lead to violence, just like her last husband. So it was only a stop gap, but there was a whole year where he didn't have the opportunity.

He'd seemed happy to see her, if the enthusiasm with which he dragged her to bed said anything. Though on the other hand, three days after Lucrezia's return five days ago, Allan had left on a business trip.

Which was why, as she walked out of a cafe holding a large cappuccino, it was a pretty big shock to see him across the street. A big enough shock that she dropped the cup, splattering hot coffee over her white tights (thankfully not bare legs). "Christ!" she gasped in surprise (he father would be appalled). And then she immediately spun around, afraid he might look over and see her, ignoring the cup rolling down the sidewalk and into someone's feet.

She probably looked like a crazy person. And she felt crazy, too, for being surprised at all.
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.
londoncallingmods: (spoops)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
The weather today had been fairly pleasant, a mostly sunny day wedged between fairly grey ones. It wasn't warm, but the chill was minimal for this time of year, and there wasn't a drop of rain in sight. As night crept in, however, the streets slowly faded from sun kissed and painted in autumnal colours, to foggy and damp. An odd thing, really, since the forecast had predicted a clear and pleasant night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

OTA

Aug. 17th, 2016 03:17 am
0_0_7: (Default)
[personal profile] 0_0_7
Q was missing.

It wasn't unusual for him to not come home, or for he and Bond to pass like ships in the night. But when he didn't answer his texts or emails and when Bond found out he hadn't been to Q Branch in two days, he began to do some digging on his own. He certainly wasn't as adept at Q at hacking and such, but he knew his way around. He still could manage a few new tricks. And so he hacked into the CCTV near the last ping of Q's GPS and watched intently. What he saw was Q being snatched off the street on his way to a tube stop, likely on his way home.

Bond had lost precious time and knew Q could be anywhere. He resolved not to panic. Instead, he steeled himself and began to work methodically through contacts and back channels, trying to track down the white van. He finally narrowed it down to a rental agency at Heathrow.

Going there only got him so far. A bogus credit car, a fake name. But he did know when it had been dropped off and he began to pull up flight data of planes that had taken off within a four hour window of when the van had been returned. He was casting a wide net. He knew he needed help.

And so he opened his phone and scrolled through the numbers until he found someone he thought could help. Hitting call, he rang them.

"This is Bond. I need a avour. Meet me at Piccadilly in a half an hour."

Nothing more, no details. He made the call and then went to the meet.

He'd find Q if it was the end of him.

(A bit different of an OTA...especially looking for spies but if Bond knows you and he thinks you'd be of use then do tag in! Excited to kick off a new plot!)

OTA

Jul. 30th, 2016 10:24 pm
quartermaster_q: (tappa tappa tappa)
[personal profile] quartermaster_q
It had started China, a simple enough mission. It should have stayed there too, but how was Q to know that they'd been followed home? He couldn't have, but as Q hitched his bag up higher onto his shoulder and continued running he couldn't help but wish they'd been more cautious. 

He ducked into the first alley he passed, pressing himself against the wall in the shadows, praying his pursuer hadn't seen him slip away. With his back against the wall, he could feel his heart pounding. He wasn't equipped to fight anyone right now, and contacting Bond would be a challenge- Since he'd shattered his phone when he'd first started running. Hiding was his best option, but just as he'd started to feel sure that he'd lost the other man a hand seemed to come out of nowhere, pulling him forward, then slamming him hard against the wall.

The fight was not a thrilling one. Q took quite a beating, and it was only the mace in his pocket that saved him in the end. 

Limping and beaten, he hobbled along the street, trying not to draw too much attention as he pulled his hood up to hide his bruised face.

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: (fog)
[personal profile] lcrpg_npc
 

(Rather than write the same vague drivel, here is a pretty gif to inspire you, a link to the weather for the week, and a link to londonist, a great resource for all things London related. As always this post is open all week. Tag in, tag others, check back often!)
lcrpg_npc: (Default)
[personal profile] lcrpg_npc
The Queen's official birthday celebrations might wait for the better, brighter weather of June, instead of the actual date just passed, but there was no lack of things to do in London this week, even if it was cooler and damper than the week before. St. George's day festivities were scattered throughout the city, competing with celebrations of the four hundredth anniversary of Shakespeare's death. Getting around the city could be even more difficult than usual on Sunday, with multiple streets closed off for the London marathon.

There were exhibits - everything from graphic design to a survey of Sicilian history to the influence of underwear. And the same level of diversity could be found whether you were in the mood for music, theatre, good food, or late night fun. There was something for everyone, and no matter your plans - or lack of plans - you never quite knew what you were going to find, or who might find you.



[Week long gp! Tag in, tag others, and check in daily to see who's joined in.]
utterly_mysterious: (smirk)
[personal profile] utterly_mysterious
A girl couldn’t rely on regular customers forever, especially not a girl like Angelique. She was a novelty, she knew. A fetish, even. Not a long-term sort of mistress, but a way to scratch a very, very particular itch.

That suited her quite fine. She got bored with them well before they got bored with her.

Case in point: walking through one of the city parks on a drab London Saturday, Angelique made a splash in a cinched-waist long pink coat and black leather boots, a bold flower on a gray day. Her unique style, Victorian-expired with modern tailoring, made her memorable -- especially to people she would rather forget. A small group of young men were gathered around a park bench not far ahead, talking and laughing loudly, and Angelique recognized them from a recent stag party who hadn't been entirely happy with her services.

With a burst of nervous energy, Angelique quickened her click-heel steps and swept up to the side of the nearest convenient person. "Be a dear and pretend like you know me for the next ten minutes," she requested, dark eyes glinting with mischief over a barely-suppressed little smile.

*******


A girl like Angelique couldn’t drum up new business just anywhere, nevermind the fact that her primary profession was actually illegal. She had to be careful about where and when she gave out her card. Bars here and there in the LGBTQ-friendly parts of the city were welcoming enough, but she had to work at it. That meant a lot of drinks, a lot of flirting, and a lot of strolling the pavement in ridiculously high-heeled boots.

She was tragically exhausted by the time she found a high-backed seat at the bar of a trendy hot spot popular with the queer community, later that night. Her day had been exhausting, and she deserved a drink. Just sitting down in her dress and corset in this club was like a neon Open for Business sign,which was exactly what Angelique wanted. She ordered herself a strong martini, crossed her ankles in ladylike fashion, and waited to be approached. They would come to her, sooner or later.

((OOC: either at the park or later at the club, Angelique wants to meet you!))

OTA

Jan. 13th, 2016 03:05 pm
offthebeatenpath: (spent tears)
[personal profile] offthebeatenpath
Victoria's seat by the café's window gave her a good view not only of the café and its various exits, but also the pavement outside. Later, in reviewing what had happened - some habits never died, whether there was a debrief required or not - she would decide the combination of the weighty bag worn across the man's body and the way he held his head under a brimmed cap to minimize exposure to the cameras dotting much of London that first caught her attention. Victoria raised the mug to her lips as she gazed out the window, taking in the man in an instant as her eyes moved on to the traffic beyond him. The face she remembered. He'd been barely more than a boy then, working for some... Italians, secondary players with a connection to last official target for Six. She'd only seen him once, through a scope during some early recon, and their paths hadn't crossed beyond that. She didn't even know his name, but she knew his type, and Victoria had little enough going on after the holidays it was worth looking into herself.

~*~*~


The contract specified the kill be public and from a distance, but the file from Il Bisturi had implied the target was cagey. She spent most of her days in public spaces, but with no rhyme or reason to where she would be when. Even her more regular haunts were hard to predict accurately. And the file said nothing about where she lived, so Vargas wasn't able to trail her from there. There was a square popular with buskers not far from where the mercs sent earlier had found her - the file was light on details of that encounter, and when Vargas had asked, he was ordered again to keep his distance - and lacking better ideas, he'd kept the area under video surveillance for the past week and a half waiting for the girl to show up, and she finally had. He'd had plenty of time to work out the best rooftops and upper floor empty office spaces overlooking the square, so once the target had set up her tiny folding table and put up her sign, it was a simple matter of letting himself into the corresponding building and into position.

~*~*~


The tarot had shown Em in spots all over the city so far this year, often in places she'd never been before, and it was unusual enough she'd done multiple readings trying to find out why. The images the cards showed her hadn't been very forthcoming though, and it had left her unsettled, but not knowing what else to do to prepare for whatever was coming. Without any real information, she hadn't shared her concerns with anyone, because what would she tell? I've got a bad feeling about this wasn't helpful, even from a precog.

Two women from Florence stopped for a reading, and were so thrilled to discover Em spoke Italian they hung around chatting about places they'd visited for awhile after she was finished with the cards. When they were ready to leave, she recommended a nearby coffee shop with excellent espresso, and stood watching until they were out of sight to make sure they didn't miss the first turn. She was about to sit again, when there was a loud crack and a sudden searing pain in her hip that made her crumple to the pavement.

~*~*~


Victoria headed toward the back of the café as though going to the ladies', but instead slipped out the backdoor and down the block so she could catch sight of the younger assassin before he was too far to follow. The office building he entered was, unlike many in the area, fully occupied, leaving the roof most likely, and by the time she got to the top, he had his Nemesis unpacked, assembled, and aimed down at the street below. She quickly crossed the space between the roof access door and his position, swinging her weighted handbag, which was as much a weapon as the knife in it or the guns tucked into her coat, into his head, "None of that then," just as he exhaled before taking the shot. He managed to pull the trigger, but neither had time to see if the shot hit true, as they scrambled for control.


[[Joint EP. Help Victoria deal with the assassin, or come to Em's rescue down on the street. ST/LT are always welcome.]]
londoncallingmods: (calling)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
Merry Christmas!
You are invited to celebrate the season with Finlay Flynn and Willy Silver.
 
When: Christmas Eve (5pm – Midnight)
RSVP: By Email (SBMNGR@ldnmgmt893.co.uk) Before 19/12
 
Upon entry you'll be given a ticket for one free drink. All drinks after that are 5 each. There will also be a free buffet in the dining area.
 
Dress code: Casual, but tidy please!
 
Raffle: Come wearing a festive sweater and you will automatically be entered into a raffle to win a 65 inch TV.
 
Donate: Bring three tins of canned food to be donated to the local food bank, and receive an extra drink ticket.

Look forward to:
A live DJ, live music, an appearance by Santa, gift bags with deluxe swag, and the company of old and new friends!

 
(OTA! Happy holidays! If you know Fin, Willy, Phouka, or Winter, feel free to assume they gave you an invite. If not, you can say your pup got an invite through a friend of a friend, someone who knows someone, ect. It IS invite over (no gate crashing pups please, Fin's a giver and would want everyone to feel included), but the pups hosting the party are pretty active and I believe they know almost everyone in the game. And the people they don't know surely know people who do. Even if you only met them once, you got an invite somehow! This gathering post is open all week, and beyond!)
londoncallingmods: (calling)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
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!)

OTA

Nov. 17th, 2015 12:57 pm
quartermaster_q: (working)
[personal profile] quartermaster_q
He was a good boy these days. He did his work, came home to Bond, fed his cats... Went to bed early when he could, ate his vegetables... He was polite, polished... Professional. 
 
But he hadn't always been. 
 
His laptop offered a glimpse at who he'd once been- Not even the content, just the shell. The stickers and the obvious scuffs and marks. They showed a past Q tended to keep to himself. Though Bond knew some of it. More than most.
 
Sitting in a small cafe, watching a pair of business men tapping away on their iphones and talking loudly about acquisitions and stocks, Q found himself wishing he was a little less polished- That he wasn't obligated to keep out of trouble... And then one of them laughed so loudly that a passing server nearly dropped her tray, and Q suddenly didn't care about behaving, or what was proper for a Quartermaster.
 
Within moments he was into everything. Emails, social media, chat logs, stock portfolios. Everything.
 
One man, it turned out, was not the scum bag he presented himself as. He was pitiable, honestly. Recently divorced, attempting to re-mortgage his home for the third time. Bordering on broke, and on the verge of losing his job. ...He didn't deserve the Quartermaster's wrath. The other man, however- Well, he was a different story.
 
Married, for the third time. Lawyered up enough that he had somehow managed to wriggle out of paying child support for his two eldest children. His third wife was barely out of her teens, and he was cheating on her with at least three other women- No, two women- The third was little more than a girl still. Q didn't have to dig deep to find dirty secrets- Which was good, since he wasn't sure he could stomach digging any deeper.
 
Q had three options here. Social ruin, financial bankruptcy, or to rain down complete havoc on his career and future.
 
Or, perhaps it was four- He could do nothing. He could close his laptop and allow the man to continue on with his miserable cesspool of a life. That was an option too, he supposed.
 
(OTA! Find Q in a cafe, contemplating ruining a man's life. Feel free to influence him as you see fit. :D)
anamusebouche: (fallen angel)
[personal profile] anamusebouche
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))
londoncallingmods: (calling)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
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!)
akatawitch: (Default)
[personal profile] akatawitch
So the decision had been made for Chukwu and Ugonna to visit Aunt Chinwe in Atlanta, her parents would go see Yaya, and Sunny herself would be staying in London this Christmas. Which was her mother's way of softening the fact that she and Sunny's father had quarreled over bringing Sunny and her brothers home, not because of money regardless of what she said, but because while Ezekiel Nwazue wanted to see his sons, he preferred to keep his daughter out of sight and out of mind. And his wife wouldn't allow for him to bring the boys home to Aba, but not the girl. All of them, or none. This year, apparently, none.

Which, that was okay. Sunny had expected this after last year's tangle where everyone had come home. She had somewhere else to be. Orlu had family in London, and she'd grown closer to them because they were a taste of home--both Nigerian and Leopard--and a tie to those communities in the city. Orlu and his parents were supposed to be visiting this year. So of course she missed her Mama (and even her brothers, though she wouldn't say so), but part of her Oha coven was just as good.

She needed to find a gift for Orlu. But she knew where to look. Books. He loved books just as deeply as she did, and birthdays and holidays were the times that they traded new titles they had discovered. Maybe Americanah. She thought he'd like that one.

In her enthusiasm while she pored over books looking for just the right one, she hadn't realized she'd switched to muttering to herself in Igbo until she found another customer trying not to stare at her.

Sunny knew what she looked like, her braids blonde as sunlight, hazel eyes sparkling. She grinned and leaned hard into her Naija accent, putting bass in her voice to amplify it. "Like you never hear a body speak this way in this city." Which earned her a confused look and a little jump of embarrassment before the other woman scurried off to another section of the store.

Sunny laughed.

((Find Sunny in any bookstore in town, having fun confusing people))
show_me_something: (simple)
[personal profile] show_me_something
A job had kept Victoria busy the past week or so, but her Chiltern Court flat was gilded and greened like something from a magazine for the upcoming holidays. Cards had been posted beginning of the month to those she knew socially and distant relatives, complete with handwritten good wishes for the season, but gifts required a more personal touch.

A more personal delivery too, in some cases. Marvin would have a stroke if anyone were so bold as to order something sent to him at an address Victoria was one of the few to have. And Ivan, well, she had thoughts on how to give him his gift which very much required a personal touch. Frank and Sarah obviously needed something as well, although it wouldn't arrive until after the holidays at this point. And perhaps gifts for James and his young man, if she came across the perfect little something, as much Thinking of you as Happy Christmas.

She liked the bustle of the holidays, her talent for remaining calm in the face of others' stress letting her enjoy the shopping and the busy-ness of it all. A large bag dangled from the crook of her elbow as she left a shop, and she paused a moment to decide whether to continue on to the next, or stop first for tea.

[OTA: Find her on the sidewalk in any shopping district, heading into another shop, or stopping for a quick bite/cuppa, whatever works best for you and yours.]
jageskro: (the what now? (smoking))
[personal profile] jageskro
The crowd was a slim one today, and the hat Jag had left on the ground was probably feeling a little neglected. What did people need? He wasn't going to put on as great a show as he did with the circus. Under the tent, he could pretend that he had a lot of material for amazing pyrotechnics. But out here, busking for cash, nobody would believe it if he went too elaborate with his fire tricks.

Still, he finished off with a small fire bird flying one, two, three circles around him before it vanished into thin air, because nobody was paying attention, so… fuck them, yeah.

He picked up the hat, shoved it in his backpack and the few coins in his pocket. Maybe enough for a pint and a snap. It was a start, but it wouldn't do. Fortunately, this was a busy square; he walked as if he knew where he was going, in as much of a hurry as any other Londoner, but already looking out for a good pickpocketing target.


Feel free to say your character saw the little fire bird, or saw him pick somebody's pocket, or caught him trying to pick theirs... Anything goes!

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