Halloween GP

[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!)

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[faizel]

Faizel had seen quite a few strange things in his day, but this fog was something new. The magic inside it felt familiar to him, like the darkest depths of the Wyldwood where the stranger fae dwelled, and it smelled sweet and inviting- Which, to him, only made him more wary.

Leaving the crowds that filled the streets, the half elf wizard slipped off towards the park, away from the sounds and bustle of the people celebrating. Here, the fog was even thicker, and he reached out with one hand, touching the magic with his own- And then sharply drawing back. It felt sharp, it felt angry.

Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a rather large bit of amber, smoothed out and hanging from a leather cord. Holding it out, he began to chant softly under his breath- Though he stopped abruptly as the amber slowly turned to black. ...Oh, that wasn't good at all. Tucking it away, he turned to leave- Only to find himself face to face with someone he'd been certain he'd never see again.

Aspid had been old for as long as Faizel had known him, frail looking and slight. Though that had never made the man any less frighting or vicious. The figure before him now was not frail, and he looked as youthful as Faizel himself. Though he was, without a doubt, the man who had once been his mentor. ...Youth should have made him softer looking, and yet he was still all harsh lines and sunken eyes.

The dead wizard reached for him, and Faizel took a step back, hating the way his breath caught and pulse quickened with fear.

"You're dead," he said softly. "You're dead, Master Aspid, and this is all nothing more than an illusion. I will not quiver for you."

Aspid held his gaze a moment, then smiled coldly. "I'd expect nothing less from such an arrogant little half breed like yourself."

Power flickered from the wizard's fingers like lightning, hitting Faizel square in the chest and leaving him a crumpled mess on the ground. Hands trembling, he knew he couldn't fight Aspid, of all people, without focusing his magic more- And he dug through his bag again, this time producing a wand. It was tooled from grey birch, and in it's heart one could find a few strands of unicorn hair. He brandished it quickly, aiming at where the Wizard had stood, only to find him gone.

Except he wasn't gone, not really, Faizel could feel it in his bones, and he slowly struggled to his feet as he looked around.

[jageskro]

Halloween hit Jag particularly hard that year, given what had happened last year. It had been fucking awful, but he had been thankful for it, in the end, since it had allowed him and Val to reconnect. Now, with no answer to his text, he had to face the fact that they were very probably done for good. He couldn't resent Val, not after what Jag had put him through, but that didn't diminish the pain of it.

It was only fair, he figured, after the pain he'd caused in Val.

So it was no surprise that he wasn't in the mood for fancy dress. He simply went to a bar and started drinking, paying very little mind to the fog outside, even when he stepped out for a fag.

It was only a vague figure in the mist, at first. But the closer the bloke walked, the more Jag tensed, feeling as if it were... It wasn't until he was standing right in front of him that Jag managed to utter his name, his voice choked. "Paul."

He didn't see the punch coming, and he ended up on the floor, jaw aching, cigarette dropped to the ground. He could've defended himself easily, with his fire, but he didn't. The kick in his ribs pushed him back against the side of the building, and he cried out in pain, but still made no move to defend himself. He only hauled himself into a sitting position, back against the wall, and looked up at Paul.

"That's right, I should stop hitting you," Paul stated, his words venom, a tone Jag had never heard from him before. "You like it too much."

And then it was Sam, holding his jaw hard enough to hurt, between her thumb and fingers. "You're not worth it, are you, Tommy?"

She was gone as soon as she'd appeared, and Paul was nowhere to be seen. Out of the fog came another figure, that of his foster dad he'd set on fire. The man was burnt almost beyond recognition, but Jag could never have forgotten him. He made a strangled noise of fear and struggled to stand up and run away.

"That's right, boy," the well-known, Brummie-accented voice called after him, "you'd better run!"

[leloupnoir]

Akeem had no specific plans to celebrate Halloween. He would much rather remain at home and read a book than take part in exhausting festivities. After closing up the bookshop, he'd stepped outside for a cigarette, meaning to go up to his flat afterwards.

He'd already closed up the shop, and lit his cigarette, by the time he felt the wolf growl menacingly inside him, with a very strong distrust for the fog. A young woman was walking by, and almost immediately he found himself fighting the very real urge to shift and sink his fangs and claws into her. The next man to walk past garnered the same reaction from him, and he began to feel the pain of the shift, starting in his spine, as the back of his hands grew hair.

He dropped the cigarette to the ground and fumbled his keys with shaking hands, trying to open up the shop. He needed to get to the cage downstairs, and he needed to do it now.

[trustearned]

Michael didn't like the look of that fog, for no reason that he could pinpoint. He'd just stepped out from the party where he was, shadowing Cesare, because a suspicious bloke who worked for a former associate of Rover's had stepped out to answer a phone call, and it might be important.

He learned nothing good from the one side of the call he could listen in on, until the man passing it turned around and looked straight at him. "I'm glad it's worked. He was easy to lure outside. It'll be a pleasure to tell him Cesare Borgia's now dead."

Michael stepped out from the corner behind which he was hiding, looking the man dead in the eye. He wanted to rush inside and check, but he knew that the moment he turned his back on him, he would be attacked. So he did the only thing he could; he rushed the man, and pulled his knife when the other man produced a blade. It was a short fight, and then the man was on the ground, convulsing and bleeding to death.

Before Michael could rush back inside, Cesare stepped out. He was pale as death, and there was a bullet hole in the centre of his forehead. Michael stared at him, unable to reconcile this sight with the reality of things.

"Come on, Micheletto, no words for me?" Cesare asked, his words a dark taunt.

It made no sense. If they were going to kill him, at a party, by gunshot, made no sense.

"I'm disappointed," Cesare went on, advancing on Michael. He clasped a hand on the back of his neck, bringing their foreheads together, smearing his blood on Michael's. "Don't you care, Micheletto?"

Michael shoved him away roughly, and Cesare laughed, a dark, amused laugh, a rivulet of blood running down his face from his wound.

"It's your fault, you've got to know that," Cesare went on, and pulled a knife out of jacket. "Now I've got to take you with me."

The struggle was another short one, and then Cesare Borgia lay on the floor, open eyes unseeing, Michael's blade planted in his heart. Michael stared at him, until Cesare looked over at him, and winked. He pulled the blade out of his body and sat up, smiling.

"It might take me all night," he told Michael, getting to his feet, "but you're coming with me, Micheletto. You and I go beyond death."

And Michael knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that when Cesare attacked him this time, he would not fight him.

[nirav]

The fog was heavy with dark magic, thick and too sweet to be trusted. Still, Nirav had found himself outside taking photographs, snapping pictures of the fog as it curled around lampposts and landmarks.

He was setting up a shot of a car that seemed to be consumed by it when he noticed the man though, his scent familiar even though he was sure he was a stranger.

Moving near, he picked up the keys and held them out in offering.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice warm and smooth, and unnaturally soothing.

[leloupnoir]

"Please," Akeem managed to get out through clenched teeth, the strange Fae's scent overwhelming; "will you open the door, and help me to the basem-" He was cut off before he might finish, gritting his teeth against the pain as his body rocked, fighting off the shift with all his will.

He would not normally rely on any such stranger, Fae or not, but he had very little choice right then.

[london_spy]

His phone had been acting up all night, and though he'd tried to ring Hex to see if he was feeling strong enough to face a party tonight, he'd eventually given up and gone on his own.

It was late when he finally slipped out to have a smoke, He'd come to the costume party dressed as the sidekick of one of his beloved childhood superheros, and he tugged at the slightly scandalous green shorts as he leaned back against the alley wall and took a long drag off his cigarette. Pulling out his phone, he tried once again to call Hex- Then paused as a light near the end of the alley flickered on and then off again, briefly illuminating a familiar looking trunk. ...It couldn't be though, it had to just be his mind playing tricks. That's what he kept telling himself as his curiosity got the best of him and he approached the trunk.

The smell hit him hard, that too familiar rotting scent. A smell that still crept into his dreams sometimes and left him sick and his chest aching.

"It's not him," he said quietly, reassuring himself as he touched the trunk- Only to jump back with a gasp when it abruptly burst open and a body came tumbling out.

Barely glancing at the familiar form, Danny felt the contents of his stomach creeping up on him, turning away and covering his mouth as he tried to keep himself together. When he turned back towards it, however... It was gone. All of it. As if it had never been there at all.

"What the fuck did I take?" he said softly, taking slow breaths, and then tensing at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder. Expecting it to be one of the men he'd been dancing with tonight, he relaxed a bit and turned to face them.

"Dance card's full to-"

Alex stood before him, pale, eyes glassy and dark, and Danny found himself shocked silent for a moment. He'd hallucinated before, but never like this. Never so vividly, and not in a very long time.

"You're not real," he said quietly. "I wish you were, but you're not real..."

Alex tilted his head, then smiled- And it looked wrong. It wasn't the way Danny remembered at all. "Come be with me," Alex said softly. "Come be with me, and we can have forever."

Reaching out, Danny moved to touch his cheek, surprised by how solid and real it felt. It was just his mind playing tricks, he knew that, but he found himself smiling softly as he nodded. "Alright, I'll go with you. I'll follow you anywhere you want to go. When I sober up, you'll be gone. So I'll enjoy you while you're here, love."

Alex smiled again, but it was too broad, too sharp, and Danny drew away slightly right before the vision of his dead lover grabbed him and kissed him hard. Cold lips pressed against his own, and Danny found he couldn't breathe. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't take a breath, couldn't break away.

The world was starting to go dark as his arms hung limply at his sides, his eyes catching a glimpse of a figure near the end of the alley.

[nirav]

Up close Nirav could place the scent better, and the elf tensed slightly as he recognised the man before him as some soft of shifter. ...He was clearly in distress though, and after a beat Nirav nodded and unlocked the door.

"Here," he said, taking the man's arm as they headed inside. "I will help however I can."

[harrowgate]

Felix knew he shouldn't go out into the mist. Shannon would be waiting for him, and would call him a fool for his curiosity, but once Felix Harrowgate had started to wonder about a thing, nothing could convince him to turn his attention away. It was magic completely unlike, and at the same time very much like, anything he had ever sensed before. It tickled at his thoughts and nipped at the edge of his power until Felix had to know what it was.

So he went out, in a casual shirt and jeans with a light sweater thrown on against the cool. Just for a moment, he told himself. Just until his curiosity was satisfied.

It wasn't five minutes before he was lost outside his own home, tangled up and turned around on streets that seemed like strangers, with the fog draining every familiar color and feature into grey. Felix wandered, bewildered, unable to sense through the clouds of magic to the heart of the enchantment -- unable to discern what it was when it was everything.

A voice slid out of the mist, low and silken, and a hand far too large and familiar wrapped around his throat. Felix froze, the breath torn out of him. All at once he felt seventeen years old again and terrified, as the choking binding of the obligation de sang slithered to life from the dead remnants he'd torn to pieces when he freed himself six years ago. The thing that held him melted into the shape of a man, impossibly tall and broad, and one hand was all it needed to consume Felix's will utterly. He couldn't move. He couldn't even breathe.

"Did you really think, my darling," purred Malkar Gennadion, a creature made of dark and fog, reeking of magic and old blood, "that I would let you get away?"

[leloupnoir]

"The door at the back," Akeem managed to let out, his voice having gone rougher from the beginning of the shift. Hair was growing on his face, and his bones cracked noisily as they began to rearrange themselves. There would be stairs, and, "Room at the back. Cage." He cried out in pain as he fought the shift. "Hurry."

[utterly_mysterious]

Angelique had never seen either of these men before. At least, not in person. At the party, she thought she'd caught sight of someone who might be Cesare Borgia, but she'd been much too intent on escaping the insistent hands of her 'date' (who had proven more trouble than the money he'd offered her was worth) to think too much of it.

Once she'd slipped away from the party, however, and was outside, the world seemed to turn upside down. Surely she was drunk, because she could have sworn she'd just seen a man fall to the ground with a knife in his chest... only to rise back up again and rush the other one who'd killed him. This time, the red-haired man seemed unable to fight back. Well, thought Angelique, to hell with that.

In her red sequined dress, sharp heels, and matching mask slid up on her dark hair, she flung herself out of the fog. Angelique's clutch purse tonight was the one Fin had bought for her some weeks ago, with solid metal and glass rings she could grasp like a set of particularly gorgeous brass knuckles. A working girl didn't get far in this city without knowing how to defend herself. She was definitely drunk, Angelique thought, because she aimed a solid punch at the back of the should-have-been-dead man's neck.

[miss_ives]

Vanessa had gone out out of a morbid sense of fascination for the fog. She knew very well that she ought not to, but here she was anyway, her coat buttoned up, walking through the odd mist that seemed to drain London of its colour. It was a wonder that so many people seemed out and about, in their usual costumes, but there was a certain resilient obstinacy to the people of London that she could only admire, even when it blinded him to the dangers around them.

But then even through the mystery of the mist came a dark calling, a beating at her temple and a tightness in her lungs that hurried her forward and around a corner, until she stopped in her tracks at the sight of Felix being manhandled by someone who felt as vile as any nightcomer she had ever met, and possibly as old as the worst of them.

"And do you think," she answered, drawing herself up and stepping forward, until she stood in the fog-dimmed halo of a street lamp, able to see and be seen, a frail, pale woman with frighteningly intense eyes, "that he has no friends to help him out of your clutches?"

[prince_of_nymphs]

The fog had called to him, singing to him sweetly through his window until he'd finally come outside. The magic in it seemed to whisper to him, coiling around him and leading him this way and that.

After a while, it parted slightly, revealing Felix, and a man he didn't know. The magic radiating from the stranger was so sharp it burned his nostrils, and Fin's own magic coiled tight in his chest, as though nervous. However, Fin was too curious to turn away.

"Felix?" he called out quietly.

[nirav]

Nodding his understanding, Nirav led the way to the basement, and back to the cage.

"Here, it's alright, here we are," he said quickly, helping the man in and then shutting the cage door. "Tell me what you need. What will ease the change for you?"

[wispofathing]

This fog was fucked.

Curnen felt her hackles rise just being outside, but she had a way to go yet before she was home. The streets were so quiet. Everyone with some kind of sense was already behind a closed and locked door, but no, here she was still stranded.

Well. It was only fog and she was Tufa. The whole reason they called them the Smoky Mountains was because of all the fog. She whistled to keep the dread and the magic at bay.

She forgot, though, that she should never whistle in the dark, for it summons evil.

Another voice joined hers, trailing behind her far enough that she saw nothing when she turned to look. Whistling unfortunately meant she couldn't hear if it was male or female, but that sense that something was wrong went from a six to a ten in less than a second.

Curnen considered running. She wished harder than she thought she could that her wings could carry her away. But running from something or someone following you never made anything better. If anything, it just made the chase worse.

When she heard him--and it was a him--singing, though, it almost made her break into a dead sprint anyway.

Oh Polly, Pretty Polly, would you take me unkind
Polly, Pretty Polly, would you take me unkind
Let me set beside you and tell you my mind

It was a higher voice in the male range, a strong and clear tenor. What followed that voice out of the mist was--even in his advanced age--a large and solidly built man, dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. His hair was stark white, though his ink black brows and dark skin spoke to Tufa blood just as pure as Curnen's own.

Curnen went white. "You can't... I..."

"Oh, you got me good, little missy, I ain't gonna deny that," Rockhouse drawled. "Really, though. You think some flatlander's gonna be the end of me?"

The girl felt her whole body go cold and she whimpered. Rockhouse strode forward and took hold of her arm. His hand was larger, broader than her own, but six-fingered just like her own. "You can't..." she tried again, "be here."

Rockhouse smiled. "Shit, girl, we ain't in the homelands. I can be anywhere else I like."

He started to sing again, the ballad of Pretty Polly's murder brimming with power, and Curnen mewled and started to cry in pure animal terror.

[harrowgate]

"Why, Felix," breathed the bulky shape holding Felix as hostage with just one hand. He was broad in his body, even cloaked in darkness as he was. Only a hint of heavy features could be glimpsed beyond Felix's form, as if the wizard were trapped by a shadow and not a person... if not for the strangely slender hand that wrapped firmly around his throat. "Could it be you've developed a taste for honey after all this time? You were always so eager to present your ass to me, I never imagined you'd learn what to do with one."

Felix stared at Vanessa, wide-eyed and trembling at first, but the longer that sensual purr went on, the less frightened he looked. Terror began to melt away into a dull-eyed kind of acceptance, a memory of shame and humiliation that had never truly left him. "Run," he tried to whisper, tried to make her understand even as he knew his will was draining out of him.

[callmevod]

The fog was weird. But abnormal weather patterns were just things that planets tended to have, right?

He was still wearing his stocking cap and tucking his tail when he heard a familiar click-clicking in the air, and he froze, his eyes searching the fog and corners.

That sound shouldn't have been on this planet. Without even thinking, his hand went to his revolver. He only had four shots, yes, but it wasn't like an Aari'kata could take more than two. And unless he was drunk, he could hit one. Probably.

He'd ran out of rounds in his rifle before he'd fought his first one. After his first, he'd learned to hide. Smear himself with shit and mud and lie still so that the thing would pass him on. There wasn't any shit or mud to do that here.

Seeing it half-slither, half-walk out of the fog, climbing on the side of a building, brought chills to Vod, so much that he couldn't even focus on his revolver at the moment.

The thing was about the size of a bus, with six legs and a serpentine body, and large forearms ending in single, long, hardened blades. Its mouth opened, baring the long, thin fangs that lined its mouth, and its beady, black eyes fixed upon him.

"No, no," Vod murmured, taking a few steps back. "Not here. This isn't fucking possible."

The only option was to run. Shooting at something like this with only four bullets was a fool's game.

[harrowgate]

Felix clutched at the hand around his throat, at the wrist bathed in shadow with a hint of white cuff, dark sleeve... and a gold ring around each finger set with a stone the color of new blood. The tattoos were not as bright as Felix's own, but took the same shape, coalescing into color as if the man holding him prisoner were forming himself out of the fog itself.

"Don't," Felix gasped, pulled sharply against the bulk of the man -- thing -- holding him so easily with just one hand. His eyes were wide and bright with abject terror. He didn't even have the presence of mind to be humiliated that it was Finlay seeing him like this. All Felix could think was that he couldn't allow Malkar's poison to infect anyone else.

"I don't need you to save me," Felix hissed, cruel words in sharp contrast to the fear in his eyes.

[prince_of_nymphs]

"Of course not," Fin replied, his voice soft and low, magic laced through it to sooth and calm them all- Hopefully.

His milky eyes raked over the pair of them, lingering on the hand around Felix's throat. Felix may have claimed he didn't need saving, but help was certainly something he was in no position to refuse.

"Who's your friend?" he asked, his vision dampening slightly as his magic reached out to get a better feel for what it was up against. Like this, Fin appeared even more fae than usual, sharper, paler, and ever so slightly blue.

[akatawitch]

Sunny was working on getting home and bolting herself--and Philip, the blessed stupid little bird--in, but it was kind of hard to ignore something like a wizard you knew actually whipping out a wand in the street when he damn well knew better than letting the Lambs see anything. She didn't draw, but her hand reached into her purse and wrapped around the hilt of her knife.

"Faizel?" she called experimentally. "You all right?"

[faizel]

Faizel turned sharply towards her, wand still drawn- Then slowly lowered it. His chest was still burning from where Aspid had struck him, and he seemed a touch breathless as he shook his head.

"No. No, not at all," he said softly, moving closer as he looked around, as though he expected something to jump out and grab him. "Did you see a man? My height, fair hair... Vicious eyes?" he asked, voice a bit shaken and unsure.

[akatawitch]

Sunny shook her head. "No." Rather than look skeptical, though, as his confidence waned she asked, "Should I be watching for him?"

[shannonteverius]

Felix hadn't come home. Shannon knew he shouldn't worry, but with the mysterious fog and the gossip running around the city he couldn't help but be concerned. The fog alone was cause to worry. Felix could get lost in their library/closet, let alone a city where he couldn't see six inches in front of him.

Shannon had had no response from Felix's cell the numerous times he'd called. He paced their apartment until he chanced his hair frizzing from the stress. Then he grabbed a coat and headed out into the fog.

It was a mistake. He couldn't see a thing, but he could hear voices. He thought they were voices. They were garbled and vague. Occasionally one would become clearer than the rest, but that only made things worse. Laughter mocked him from the mist. He heard Robin's voice, smug and satisfied as he informed Shannon that Felix would never be returning home. He even thought he heard his mother's voice.

"Felix?" he called, hesitantly as first and then more urgently as fear began to take hold of him. He wouldn't listen to the voices. He refused to believe they were real, but the fact was, Felix was missing.

"Felix!"

[akatawitch]

Sunny was aiming to stop being outside as soon as humanly possible, as the fog creeped her the hell out. It seemed, though, that her sense of integrity had other plans for her.

After all, given what she knew about Felix, anything that could actually make him freeze and go quiet was something pretty scary.

"Felix," she asked slowly, "You're actually wearing denim like a normal person, is everything all right?"

That wasn't, of course, what concerned her at all. But she didn't think he'd really tell her if something was wrong. Mostly she wanted to communicate to the bulky guy behind him that she was there and she was a friend.

[faizel]

"I- I don't know," he admitted.

Faizel was always so calm and composed, almost emotionless in the way he presented himself. Now though... That mask faltered, and the fear failed to hide properly behind his eyes.

"It looked like Aspid. Younger, fitter, but him. He knew me, and I knew those eyes despite the youth of his features. ...But it can't be him, that's impossible."