londoncallingrpg | Recent Entries

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!)

fantasticnewt

Newt sat on a bench in the park across from the building that housed the small flat that the Ministry had provided for him. He held his suitcase on his lap, still wary about having it out of his sight for even a moment. This was a step for him, being out in the world at all. Since he had arrived here a few weeks ago from 1927, everything was simply too much. Too much noise, too much crowd, too much that was unrecognizable, unexplainable...

Sometimes he'd felt as if the world was not all that welcoming to him at the best of times, and now he felt like even more of an outsider. He was an alien here. And not only this, but the shock of going to the Ministry for help and discovering that everyone knew who he was. There was a portrait of him there. A first edition of his book under glass.

He watched a squirrel scurry up a tree. Once safely on a branch, it paused and looked over at him. He offered a little wave.

The latch on his suitcase popped open.

"Quiet down, Dougal," he said gently as he closed the clasp again. "I am not letting you out, not here. If you thought New York was a different world, you've no idea what you might encounter in this place."

The latch popped open again, almost violently this time, and Newt practically flattened himself against the case to make sure it stayed closed, then glanced up and around him frantically, as if afraid he might be caught doing something bad.

[OOC: for the deets on brand new newt, here!">

pippa_flynn

It was the best time of year. The air was becoming crisp and it was in fashion to break out the jumpers and boots. Pippa had a long Aran sweater with chunk, fat cables that came down over her bum. To go with the lovely cream colour she had chosen brown leggings and finished the look off with knee high boots of a slightly lighter brown. She had her hair up in a messy bun.But the crowning accessory was the Starbucks cup that held the most precious of things.

Pumpkin Spice Latte.

She had her drink in one hand and her mobile in the other as she scrolled through Pintrest, looking, still, at decor ideas. Fin's remodel had given her ideas for her own flat. Not a full remodel, no, but it wouldn't hurt to update a few things. Maybe get a little crafty and build some shelves.

And then Pip stopped on the sidewalk near a tube stop and reflected on herself.

Oh, God...I'm so basic she thought. It was just a moment of self doubt. But then she sipped her drink and realized she didn't give a fuck what anyone thought of how she chose to enjoy autumn. Jumpers were good and PSL was delicious. And if anyone had anything to say about it she'd turn them into a toad. That thought made her smile. Yes, she was sure she could manage turning someone into a toad.

"I'm so terribly sorry," said a woman who had to be seventy or more. "Is this the train to Piccadilly?"

Pippa had no idea so she called up the map on her phone and helped the woman find her way. It was a small act of kindness that left her smiling even as the woman descended the stairs. All thoughts of turning people into toads vanished and just a tiny bit of magic escaped her control, perfuming the air with pumpkin spice and making hearts lighter as they passed.

(Any tube stop, find Pippa smiling fondly. She's in a good mood and her magic makes that a tiny bit contagious. Open forever)

londoncallingmods

It was happening more often now. The air shivered with the dark magic that was flowing more and more freely through London, leaving all it touched with a feeling of unease, and promising nasty nightmares and troubles to all who felt it in their bones.

Tonight dark creatures came slithering out of the sewers. Ghosts of the dead with cruel hearts, shadows of villains and wicked souls... They were welcomed into London with open arms, appearing and vanishing, and causing pain wherever they wandered.

Tonight the people of london caught a glimpse of the danger coming. A danger that was making itself more and more known as the year continued on.

(OTA! Wild magic is back, though it doesn't have to be evil, it can just be pestering or annoying if you'd rather this time around. You are only limited by your imagination (and what you care to make your pups suffer through). The only thing of note is that for those who are sensitive to magic, it will seem even stronger than the last time.)

logan_echolls

Logan and Jack are reunited. (ongoing)

Years ago, on a strange little island (in perhaps a very different time line) Logan Echolls and Jack Harkness made a really big mess together. Now, years later, they find themselves reunited in Jack's creepy underground lair.

It's, you know, epic.

kersen

Kersen woke to the feeling of the skin on his fingers sizzling slightly. He blinked, and then yanked his hand towards his body, underneath the tarp that was covering him. He could see a sliver of sunlight under the edge of the tarp, and let out a string of curse words in a few different languages.

How he had gotten into this position... was not something he really wanted to think about right now. More important was how to get himself out of it. As the sun got higher, the tarp would get hotter. Waiting it out was not a good idea. He also had blood on him (some his, some not), and he was hungry. All of these things were the makings of a bad situation.

And of course, he didn't have a phone. He'd dropped it somewhere outside the tarp. His best shot was to try to... make a run for it. He wasn't even totally sure where he was, but he thought he was near a building. Alley in between some stores. He opened up the tarp enough to try to get a glimpse of the outside without letting in too much sunlight. That was a bad idea. He let out a cry of pain as his hair briefly caught on fire, and he shoved the tarp back down and patted it out, panting.

About ten minutes later, he had a semblance of a plan, and decided that he needed to just gather his courage and do it.

And five minutes after that (after crawling somewhat aimlessly across the gravel with a tarp on top of him), he felt the bottom of a door against a wall, got to his feet, found the doorknob as he felt the back of his hair starting to sizzle again as it peeked out from the tarp. Then he tumbled inside, trying to keep the tarp wrapped around him.

[OOC: Someone could wander by the outside and see him, or could be inside wherever he's ended up!]

winter_wisp

Winter had taken to sleeping late, curled up on a pile of pillows in the sun room and wishing fall would come a little faster. Summer was so hard sometimes, it wasn't his season, and he missed the cold. He still shared a bed with Phouka most nights, but when sleep failed him in the middle of the night, he crept up to the top floor of the tree house, built a little nest, and sat reading books by the soft glow of fairy lights. Then, when sleep did finally come for him, he just curled up in his nest of glittery and pretty pillows and let it wash over him.

It was nearly noon by the time he woke, and the pixie staggered about in a groggy haze as he set about his morning routine. Teeth polished nice and shiny, to keep the tooth fairy well away (What kind of fairy collected teeth after all? Not one you'd want under your pillow, that's for certain), face scrubbed and fresh, even though a moment later there was always, always, glitter on his cheeks again anyway. ...Not applied, simply there. Then it was time to do battle with his hair. Today his hair was shock white, the curls soft and short. Winter never wondered why it was or wasn't this, he simply accepted that his hair would be as it wished to be, and dressed accordingly. Lately he'd been dressing quite plainly, but today he found himself digging a bit deeper into his closet, emerging in a bright and unusual jumper, along with a pair of colourful trainers.

He was just headed down to the kitchen when he heard a strange noise, and he went still on the steps as he tried to work out what it was.

"Shh! You're making too much noise!" a voice whispered.

"No, you are!" came another. "Besides, we have to make noise or he'll never wake up!"

There was a loud clatter, like a wooden spoon hitting the floor, then the sound of laughter, like tinkling bells. "Who won't wake up?" the first voice asked.

"Winter! Remember? We're visiting Winter, Soot, that's the whole reason we came!"

Wandering down the last few stairs, Winter peeked around the corner just in time to see two pixies on his counter attempting to open the five-pound bag of gummy bears he'd not yet broken into. Soot, an almost rosy and dusty skinned pixie with short and silky black hair, and eyes like tiny chips of obsidian, was currently attempting to drag the bag across the counter, while Moss, a very pointy looking pixie with wild grey hair and eyes to match, was currently attempting to remove a knife from the butcher's block.

"Oh, shit!" Winter gasped, rushing over and removing the other pixie from the knife and putting him down on the table. "You're gonna slice yourself in half, you twit!" he scolded, though that only prompted more giggles from the pair. "Winter!" they squeaked, launching themselves into the air and circling the pixie. "We're here! We're visiting!" they chirped.

"I know, I can see that," Winter replied, yelping when Soot pulled his hair.

"Make us big! Make us big! Let's play!" the pair chanted.

Winter hesitated a moment, then sighed. If his friends were here, there was no point in keeping them tiny. They'd only make more mischief that way.

"Alright, alright, stay right here. I'll be right back," he said, opening the bag of gummies to ensure his energetic house guests didn't wander. Moss swiftly swooped down to steal one, snatching it from the bag and then tumbling down onto the counter with the plump green bear.

Suddenly Winter understood all too well why Finlay had, at one point, always looked like he had a headache in the morning. ...He almost felt sorry about it too. ...Almost. Winter hadn't quite mastered guilt yet.

He returned a moment later with some of his potion, and he lifted the pair off the counter before offering them each a dose. This, of course, only prompted more excitement and chaos, but eventually, Winter had them settled down and dressed in much more mortal friendly garb. It would have been ideal to keep the pair tucked away in his tree, but his kin were having none of that, and soon they were all settled in at a table outside Starbucks.

"Ow!" Winter yelped, as Soot pulled his hair for the seventh time that morning. "Stop it. You're just trouble!" he scowled.

"You're trouble!" the dusty skinned pixie squeaked happily.

"I'm pretty sure Trouble lives in that village near the wizard school," Moss supplied helpfully. "She's pink now you know, wings and all."

Winter couldn't help himself, and he smiled a little at the thought. "It would be very nice to be pink, I think," he admitted.

"Or lavender," Soot said wistfully. "With pretty pearl wings..."

"I like your wings," Winter said, shaking his head. "They're like cobwebs. No one has wings like yours."

Soot perked up a bit at that, looking very pleased. "I am very unique."

"Hey! I have good wings too!" Moss insisted, forgetting the potion had vanished them temporarily, and trying to show them off. This was enough to send the pixies back into a pile of giggles, and the sound of pure joy filled the air with a hint of magic and sweetness all around them.

prince_of_nymphs

Since returning to London so much in Fin's life had changed. Will had left the flat, leaving Fin alone, but with some new freedom. The young fae had still been a bit timid about taking charge at first, but he'd decided to gut the place. The once sterile series of white boxes connected by doors had been opened up to something more inviting, with rich wood floors and a more bohemian aesthetic. It was a writer's dream, with plenty of space for the fox to roam and play when being fae grew too exhausting. It was a tad lonely, yes, especially with Keats off living with Winter and Phouka, but it was better this way.

Control was an odd thing though, and after having a small taste of it, Fin found himself a bit addicted. He'd renewed his contract with the BBC, but not before insisting they give him more time to pursue theatre work. He'd agreed to do a short revival of his play, Reap, but on his terms. The theatre had wanted a huge production, but Finlay had put his foot down, insisting it needed to be simple- After all, in his mind, it was the simplicity that made it what it was. He dismissed scripts he didn't like, he turned down press he didn't want to do- And for the first time in a long while, he felt good. He felt sure of himself.

He was still looking too thin from his stay in New York City, but his appetite was returning bit by bit, and he was picking at a robust looking salad as he sat outside his favoured cafe with his notebook on his knee. His gaze combed slowly over what he'd already written, and now and then he'd put down his fork and pick up his pen, scratching things out and re-writing them. Under the table his foot tapped anxiously, going still when the fae paused and pushed his hair back out of his eyes, then beginning to tap again. He paid no mind to the occasional onlooker, thankful that in London, much like New York, most people were 'too cool' to ask for a selfie. He wasn't ready for all that. He was in control, and he was more focused than he'd been in a long time, but he was still recovering. Recovering from what had happened with Will, from everything that he'd been through over the last few years, and recovering from losing his sense of self.

He was getting there, but like all things, it would take time.

Putting his pen down again he picked his fork back up and poked at his salad a little, looking lost in thought as he skewered a bit of cucumber. These past few days he'd been keeping to himself. Honestly, he'd barely spoken to anyone who wasn't one of his managers or a business contact since he'd returned. He'd seen Pip, spent time with Greg, but he was isolating himself a little. Or maybe it was more he didn't know who to reach out to anymore. ...Either way, Finlay Finn was painfully alone.

(OTA. Late and slow tags all welcome.)

dr_spencer_reid

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.)

im_torchwood

Jack had a very bad habit of letting his guard down. He loved hard and loved well, but in all his long years he was aware that love was brief. Here and there love had lasted for years. Angelo. His wife. Logan. In between there were others, loves great and small. And when love came, even though he knew better, Jack would let his guard down.

Life with Torchwood was all too often painful, bloody, and short. People came and went, but no one retired. No. No one got out so easily.

And the newest, freshest wound was Val. It had all been going so well. Jack's knowledge of tech and Val's understanding of magic had furthered the research into the portal. They were nowhere near being able to pinpoint a time or location, but they'd gotten one to hold steady for a while. It was promising.

Until it all went to hell.

Val went missing right before Jack's eyes. He'd tried desperately to undo what they'd done, but after a while even Jack had to admit he was lost. Gone.

And so Jack threw himself into work. There was no point in drinking- he never got drunk. There was no thirst for companionship- that was just hollow. But work was always there. Work to be done. Aliens to track. Tech to catalogue. A world to keep safe. Jack jumped right back into it and let the satisfaction he found in duty mask the pain of a broken heart.

Tonight he had just confiscated a crate of 'antiquities' and they were loaded in the back of the SUV. He'd let the sellers go since they were just humans who hadn't the first clue about what they were trying to sell. Jack locked the rig up and looked around, trying to decide if he ought to get a bite. He really hadn't been hungry, not since Val vanished, but he knew he needed to eat. He'd died of starvation before and it was a hell of a way to go.

(OTA find him anywhere in London or the outlying towns if you prefer. Jack needs new friends, and old faces will be welcome too!)

akatawitch

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.”

londoncallingmods

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.)

vampireevolved

Taking Responsibility

When an incident occurred in the Dallas nest, resulting in the True Death for several vampires, and its Sheriff was an ocean away at the time, someone had to be held responsible. Where else would Godric go when he was no longer sheriff, except to Eric in London.

(thread ongoing)

quartermaster_q

Ms. Ethel Vitties (Vit to her friends) was not the sort of person who usually made it onto Q's radar. She had no government ties, the most sophisticated bit of tech in her flat was her sky box (which she only owned because of a need to watch her stories), and she barely knew how to use that. She was no spy, no hacker, and at 83 with a bad hip, she posed no physical threat. ...She was just nice. They'd spoken a few dozen times, and on one occasion when he'd had to go out of town at the last minute, had agreed to let Titania and Oberon stay in her flat. No questions asked, she had simply overheard him in the hall failing to get through to the usual cat sitter or Eve, and had offered to take them.

She'd refused payment of any sort when he'd returned, and the cats had taken an instant liking to her. ...So when Q had learned just how much she was getting charged for her simple cable box and the internet she almost never used, he'd taken matters into his own hands. He'd spent the morning on the roof, rewiring the various cables and making slight improvements. Now he was parked across the street in a small cafe, tapping into Sky's customer data base to make some even more adjustments- Starting with a refund of an obscene service charge.

He was sporting his usual frumpy boffin chic look, but it was obvious he'd been busy this morning by the state of his elbows and knees, the fabric darkened and dirtied by the tar on the roof. His hair was wilder and fluffier than ever, and he was frowning at his monitor as he combed through Vit's billing history. The company really was shameless, it seemed.

When someone approached the table, he simply assumed it was a server and he covered his cup with one hand. "Actually, I'd like to switch to coffee now, if that's alright," he said, not considering the cafe might be full and the person approaching might be searching for a seat- Or, you know, a friend looking to say hello.

london_spy

There was a point in Danny's life where he could easily draw a line and say that was the past, and this was the future. Or maybe it was more a matter of what kind of person he was, versus who he could be if he wanted to be something more. Either way, it all boiled down to pre Alex and post Alex. Danny had gone from a life of drugs, drink, and as much debauchery as any human could handle, to a life that was almost domestic and normal. ...Then, of course, there had been post-post Alex. A strange pocket of time spent unraveling mystery after mystery, all while swimming in uncertainty and terror- Like Nancy Drew trapped in some sort of conspiracy theory filled snuff porn.

Life in a post, post Alex world was just chaos, and a sinking feeling of dread that hung about just close enough to always be felt. It had left him an even bigger mess than he'd been before they'd met. Though he supposed it would be odd if he'd somehow come out of it all as a well adjusted, functioning member of society. You don't wade that deep in the government's bullshit and come out better for it. You just didn't.

What had happened with Jack the other week, and the confession from Hex that had followed soon after, had left him on edge all over again. Danny found himself fearing a repeat of everything that had happened with Alex- And though that should have meant he was more vigilant than ever, the hopelessness that had come after learning the truth about the death of last lover lingered on even now, and rather than fight or prepare for war, Danny did what Danny did best. ...He fucked off and got fucked up.

There were certain things you couldn't take when you were on HIV meds. Technically he shouldn't have been taking anything, but if you knew how to walk the tightrope, it wasn't so bad. The blues were fine, powder was alright, but the reds were right out. They'd make him crash hard, and getting your stomach pumped on a Sunday night wasn't anyone's idea of a party. He was buzzing though, two shots of vodka, one of the blues, two lines... Pulse was a bit quick but that was alright, that was fine. Everything was fine.

Everything was great.

He didn't know who was dancing with, but they were warm and they moved just right. They moved exactly right, and Danny was so good at this. He didn't have a single life skill you could put on a bloody resume, but he could do this. He was king of the fucking club scene, darling. He was swagger and lust, and as the bpm got higher, so did he, never missing a single beat.

"You're bloody brilliant," he told his dance partner, leaning in and speaking right in their ear. "Buy me a drink?"

(OTA, late tags and slow time super welcome! Danny is stoned out of his skull, but in a good mood. ...Yay? Feel free to kill his buzz or encourage this wicked behaviour.)

willysilver

It was late at the Alpha, Will's Tuesday night haunt, and though he'd not come to perform he had come to drink. He'd had glass after glass of Kahluha and cream. Good, thick cream that he downed with the express purpose of getting drunk. Truly pissed.

But at some point someone had tugged at him and convinced him he needed to sing. His magic made him familiar even when his face did not. He was still getting acustom to the face that greeted him in the mirror. The crowd was convincing, though, and the call of music struck him deep. And so he'd taken a guitar from a man performing tonight and he took the stage.

"Just one song," he said into the mike and the crowd clapped and cheered. He tested the strings and thought of all the songs he knew. He decided on one that was relatively new. One from another musician.

Just stop your crying
It's a sign of the times
Welcome to the final show
Hope you're wearing your best clothes
You can't bribe the door on your way to the sky
You look pretty good down here
But you ain't really good
If we never learn, we been here before
Why are we always stuck and running from
The bullets?
The bullets
We never learn, we been here before
Why are we always stuck and running from
The bullets?
The bullets
Just stop your crying
It's a sign of the times
We gotta get away from here
We gotta get away from here
Just stop your crying
It'll be alright
They told me that the end is near
We gotta get away from here
Just stop your crying
Have the time of your life
Breaking through the atmosphere
And things are pretty good from here
Remember everything…

The crowd was crying and cheering at the same time as he finished. Cameras flashed as he descended the stage.

Fin was gone and Willy felt hollow. He loved the other fae and yet with the severance of their bond he felt...empty. He didn't grieve him as he otherwise might. He simply carried on. Stop your crying.

Willy passed through compliments and praise. He took the last of his drink, licking the cream from the ice cubes, and then stepped out onto the street. Someone offered him a cigarette and he took it, leaning against the building and looking up at the sky, wondering if Fin could see the same moon he saw.

(Outside the Alpha, one of the smallest bars in London. Fin has been gone since the Solstice war and Willy has a new face. OTA forever)

pecked_by_birds

Living with Robin meant he was at his flat, and the shop, less often than he might have been had he continued to live above it, but Prometheus was still making an effort to keep the business going as best he could. It was important, he'd realized, to maintain stability in his life. It kept him calm, and it kept him sane. It was just one more tether to keep him grounded, that's how he always pictured it. Like he was some massive hot air balloon, and the things he cared about were the ropes that stopped him from blowing away.

He'd missed two days, having gotten caught up in a sculpture he'd been working on, and so he was more than a bit shocked to find some new stock waiting when he unlocked the doors. ...Or, rather, not stock, but- Birds. Parakeets, parrots, doves, rooks, all in beautiful cages, all staring at him, watching.

Two rooks shared a single cage, one black as pitch, the other a very rare albino, all white. Both beautiful- So long as they stayed well away.

"Epimetheus," he sighed, though what he wasn't sure of was if this was some sort of threat, or a peace offering. His brother was thoughtless enough to think some pretty birds might make a good gift, but surely sharp enough to know they'd be a terrifying surprise for the other titan. ...Really, it could have been either. However, surely if they'd been meant as a threat he wouldn't have bothered with cages. ...Right?

The cat that somehow came and went as it liked appeared out of nowhere, purring and wrapping itself around the titan's legs, prompting him to scoop it up and hold it to his chest like some sort of shield.

"If I didn't think they'd peck my eyes out, cat, I'd open all the cages and let you feast," he murmured. "I'd rather not risk it though. Let's just get you something from the fridge instead, hmm? We'll worry about the winged beasts later."

willysilver

The Solstice was upon them. When the sun went down the magic began to swell, the veil between this world and the Other Side thin as vapor. Mortals could sense it, even, though they may not have a name for it. They gathered together, not realizing the animal instinct of safety in numbers.

But all around the city, from the dark parts, fae began to come together as well. Unseelie filled the city- boggarts and Red Caps and things unseen for many a year with bright eyes and sharp teeth. But they were tricksy, dangerous and malicious but no worse than they ever were. The real threat, the ever present danger this year, were the Milesian that crawled out of the sewers and tube tunnels to prowl they city. They were hunting tonight. They had eyes black and soulless, eyes too wide for their white, gaunt faces. Larger than their eyes were their mouth. The smile of needle fangs glinted in the street lights. Long arms ending with spidery, spindly fingers reached and clawed at passers by from the shadows.

There was a war in the city tonight and the nature of the foe, the Milesian, meant no bound mortal needed to be near any battle. Death would come to one or the other if a killing blow came down.

But there was hope. Seelie fae prowled the city as well, fighting for Light and Air. Even the Queen had seen fit to step through with her sword and shield. Such was the threat to the Fae way of life that the Milesian presented.

The longest day of the year dawned but the sunlight did nothing to frighten off the dark forces. The longest day of the year simply meant the things that went bump in the night were attacking in the light.

(Tag in, tag around! Open all week so check back. Have fun with your adventures. If you don't want any Milesian, there are plenty of Unseelie, too. Day or night, whichever works for you.)

londoncallingmods

The weather this weekend wasn't worth getting excited over, but it was fair enough to justify some time out and about. Stores were packed with new stock, cafes were brimming with life, and as always, London herself was buzzing with activity.

In South London Pop Brixton was celebrating its second birthday, offering up DJs and live performances, along side plenty of food and drink vendors. Though if your mouth's watering and that's a tube trip too far, you could always head on over to Westfield Shepherd's Bush, where you'd find a fun food truck festival. For those looking to fill up with girl power rather than pudding, you could always head over to the Powerpuff Girls pop up shop. As always, there was no shortage of things to do this weekend.

The news was still packed with election chatter, and talk of the concert for Manchester, but if you took a peek at twitter, you might find a little conspiracy brewing all about one Finlay Flynn- Who's management was currently fighting rumors about his disappearance. Little theories kept popping up, showing how his twitter feed seemed slightly off, or how filming for his BBC 3 show had been suspiciously delayed. There were youtube videos discussing it, threads on various online forums, all chattering about how the actor who was so often spotted on the tube or in pubs was suddenly absent. A silly little bit of internet crazy for most- But an unsettling reminder of his absence to those in the know.

Still, London stopped for nobody, and the city was in full bloom, just as it was every weekend.

(OTA! As always the GP will be open for at least a week, so tag in, tag others, and check back often!)

quartermaster_q

Q's interest in one Finlay Alexander Flynn, actor, writer, and possible supernatural being, began and ended with one Thomas Hector Schofield. AKA, one of a handful of people Q considered a friend. However, despite not being a main focus of interest, Q did keep tabs on him- As he kept tabs on most people who came in and out of his life, and the lives of his friends. It wasn't an all consuming hobby or anything, but in quiet moments Q like to track them down, one by one, and just have a quick peek in to see who was up to what. Glances at browser histories, a glimpse of CCTV. Most of it was boring, but now and then something of note would catch his eye, urging him to watch a bit longer.

Often it was something too personal to get involved in, like a glimpse of Hex's boyfriend getting high behind a club, or one 'Captain' Jack Harkness very definitely keeping tabs on his current lover. However, tonight was less personal, and more unsettling. Most of his surveillance of Finlay Flynn was fairly mundane lately. He worked, he went home, or stopped off for a pint. It was nothing like it had been a year or so ago, when his presence had seemed to cause all sorts of interference with CCTV and various other bits of tech. So Q wasn't sure what it was that made him watch the actor for more than a few moments tonight. Something just seemed off.

Flicking between cameras, he watched the young celebrity do a fair job of avoiding the paps, before looking up the actor's usual route home and frowning at how off course he was tonight. A glance at his calendar and texts showed no evidence that he'd be headed anywhere but home this evening, and yet he seemed to be winding around London in the most impractical way. Not a scenic route either, really. Not unless you liked looking at skips.

He'd been watching for a solid ten minutes before the cameras finally caught a glimpse of something odd following behind him, a strange shimmer that seemed to warp and distort the camera image just a touch. Finlay wasn't just off course this evening, he appeared to be evading someone- Or, rather, something.

Frowning, Q pulled out his phone to text James, and perhaps his contacts at five- However, before he could even start to type, Finlay was simply gone. ...Vanished. Rewinding the footage, it was as if the man had simply blinked out of existence, and the young Quartermaster found himself reaching for his coat as he sent out a text to every contact he trusted and headed out to Finlay's last known location.

(OTA! Fin is missing, and will prolly be missing for about a week IG time. Feel free to assume Q texted your pup if they know one another well, or to simply spot him on the street searching for Fin. Late tags and slow tags are all very welcome, and if you want to be more involved with Fin's mini plot, feel free to nudge me in email or on slack. <3)

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London Calling RPG

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London Calling RPG

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