londoncallingrpg | GP - Wild Magic 2: Chaotic Evil Boogaloo

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GP - Wild Magic 2: Chaotic Evil Boogaloo

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

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

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

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

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

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Vacation with Phouka back with his kin had been grand. The grandest. The most grandy-grand anything could ever be. However, Winter was pleased to be back in London. He'd spent most of his time around his kin walking on eggshells, terrified he might infect them all with his new mortal sensibilities. They didn't need that, they had pure joy, and deserved to hold onto it forever and ever. Here among the mortals, however, Winter was free to have as many existential crises as a pixie could possibly have.

And gosh, had he ever been having them.

There was the matter of death and dying, which crept up on the pixie often, leaving him wide-eyed on the sofa in the middle of the night very quietly weeping over those he'd lost, and those he'd inevitably lose eventually. This was always followed by fear of his own death, where the pixie would pour over his phone looking up all the ways his body could fail him if it ever got too mortal- And all the ways it could be destroyed by mortals, many of whom seemed prone to that sort of thing.

The pixie worried about money, the pixie worried about abandonment. The pixie worried about the current political climate, and if a nuclear war could end him. He worried about his friends, he worried about Phouka. ...He worried until he felt sick, then did what any sensible pixie would do- He ate pizza and watched telly to make his brain shut up for a while. Still, pizza and cartoons could only do so much, and while he had considered living the rest of his life on the sofa, that nagging feeling of wasting precious time (that was constantly being taken away from him every time the clock ticked) was enough to nudge him out of the tree house for a bit.

He'd spent the morning busking (without charming anyone for a change), and was trying to decide if he should buy pizza or actual groceries when he felt a sudden chill. It was familiar, too familiar. That feeling of being watched- Watched in a way that made him want to curl up in a corner and wrap his wings around himself.

He felt eyes on him, and when he turned on the sidewalk to see who it was, it was as if his heart had stopped.

Aspid looked younger than Winter had ever known him to be, but the pixie knew those eyes. He'd know them anywhere. They haunted his dreams even now, after all this time. They were etched into his skull, where he knew they'd remain forever.

"You're not here," the pixie said softly. "You're not here, it's a trick- You're not here, Aspid."

Aspid said nothing, he only moved closer. Winter wanted to run, but he found himself stone still, taking in the short brown locks that he'd always known to be white and stringy, and the short cropped beard that was nothing like the wiry stubble the wizard had so often sported.

"I am though. I'm right here, Winter. Look at me- Touch me, if you like," the wizard offered. The suggestion alone made the pixie recoil.

Aspid moved closer, and Winter- Winter was lost. In that moment he was nothing more than a child. A tiny creature, helpless and lost, and when Aspid gently caught hold of his arm, the pixie whimpered.

"No, I don't want to go back. Please, don't make me go back," he whispered.

"I'm not making you do anything, Winter. You'll come back, because you want to come back," Aspid assured him, giving his arm a light tug, and smiling when the pixxie seemed to let himself be pulled closer.

Edited 2017-07-18 20:37 (UTC)

Crowley was all for widespread sin. The more people he could taint with a simple, small action pleased him greatly. Some demons were traditionalists, working on one soul for a whole lifetime. Crowley, on the other hand, preferred a patina of evil over the whole of the country. He'd orchestrated things like the inconvenience of spotty cell service, and he'd devised the Odegra formation of the M to breed unhappiness.

But today he'd come up with a truly diabolical plan. It was simple really, just a bit of backdoor coding and a bit of obfuscation so it couldn't be so easily undone.

Crowley had implemented autoplay on Facebook videos.

As people scrolled on their phones, every video they passed screamed at them. Cooking videos, politics, tear-jerking tales of survival, and all the drunk videos of people's mates last night. Every single one of them played, and played loudly. On the tube, on buses, at work, in cafes and on the street. People were so angry to be forced to listen rather than read captions. It destroyed privacy and the ire of the entire world went up ten notches.

Crowley was so very pleased with himself. His magic was truly diabolical today.

He sat at a cafe sipping a lovely red wine and watching the crowd go by. Magic was thick in the air today which was, frankly, a bit of a concern. But the demon was radiating Pride and no flittery bit of sparkle in the air was going to drag down his mood.

He was always just there at the edge of her perception.

It should be impossible. Rockhouse had turned Brushy to stone, and as far as she or anybody else was aware, he was quite literally stone dead. And yet...

And yet today as she played her set on the corner, she had seen him passing by across the street. She had seen him on the train, she'd seen him in the convenience store, she was watching him now as he ducked into an alley just as twilight was fading into dark. She knew what would come next and she stood and watched as a shape shot up toward the sky and flashed across the moon.

Her eyes blurred with tears. "Brushy, you get the fuck back here!"

Fin returned to London as quietly as he'd left. He'd shuffled off a plane, dragging his single bag, avoiding the paps and people's phones as best he could, leaving his return to be little more than whispers on Instagram, Twitter, and Snapchat. From the airport he'd Ubered home, back to the flat that was now empty. ...Will had left, and Fin wasn't sure how he felt about that. He thought he ought to be heartbroken, but he wasn't. After all, he'd left first.

He was looking thin again, a bit boney and a touch scruffy, and after scowling at his reflection for a while he'd slunk off to get a haircut and a proper shave. His hair had been creeping past his shoulders, but after a snip it was just below his ears and looking much tidier.

Cleaned up and settling back into his usual routine, Fin was making his way to his favourite pub when he felt it. ...Magic. Wild and intense. Though this time it didn't trigger a transformation into the fox. Instead it clung to him, fizzing quietly in the air around him and tugging at his fae sensibilities. It left him looking paler than usual, slightly less human, and he seemed deeply distracted as he came to a stop on the side of the pavement.

Pippa had been keeping an eye on Twitter since she'd received Fin's postcard. It had mostly been silent. Every now and again an American who knew who he was would say they'd spotted him on the train or some such. But today the SMS was blowing up comparatively. In an hour she'd gotten seven messages that he'd been spotted at Heathrow and then later at a salon. Pip had set out to his flat, and finding nothing there she let her magic reach out. She was getting better at this, but the only time she had any real success she was proud of was when she was trying to connect with Fin. Then it was so powerful it nearly took her breath away.

She knew his favorite pub and found her way there. Outside she spotted Fin stopped on the street. She was overjoyed, and yet a bit angry with him. She couldn't tell if she wanted to hug him or kick him. Or both.

Pip got closer and magic tickled all over her skin, like bubbles in a jacuzzi. She rubbed her forearm and looked around, but then she was by Fin and she threw her arms around to hug him.

"You're a basterd. I was so worried, Fin," she said.

The embrace snapped him out of his odd little trance, and he blinked in surprise before relaxing a little.

"I didn't mean to worry you. It was just a vacation, Pip," he said softly. "I sent a postcard, didn't you get it?" he asked.

"I did," she nodded. "How very old fashioned. You couldn't have called? You couldn't have answered when I called?" she scolded, still holding him tightly. Her magic reached out to his to tangle with it and feel that he was alright.

"I needed space, Pip. Look, I'm sorry if I scared you, I am, but- I'm a grown man, Pip. I don't need fussing over," Fin sighed, letting his magic tangle with hers, then carefully pulling away.

"Do you want to get a pint? A meal? I'm starving, honestly," he admitted, realising now he couldn't remember when he last ate.

"I'd love to. I'm hungry and the air out here is making me uncomfortable. I feel like something might get away from me. Let's get inside," she replied.

Nodding, Fin grabbed the door and held it open for them both. It was an odd time of day, and the place was mostly empty. A few drinkers had bellied up to the bar, but there were plenty of tables. Fin headed for one near the back, always looking for that extra bit of privacy. He loved his work, he loved acting, but he could live without the spotlight when he wasn't on camera or on stage.

A server gestured that he'd be right over, and Fin took the opportunity to deliver news he wouldn't mind having an interruption during.

"Will's moved out," he said, toying with a napkin that had been left on the table.

Felix Harrowgate was having a picnic.

He was stretched out comfortably on a blanket in a shady area of a park in a rather posh part of town, surrounded by various sizes of earthenware containers, some with lids and some without. Now and then he nibbled from a glass bowl or drank from a paper cup, and turned a page in the satisfyingly enormous book he had spread out over his lap. From a distance, he seemed to be having a grand time.

Felix Harrowgate was not -- of course -- actually having a picnic.

Beneath the natural cotton blanket, the ground had been carefully cleared of leaves, twigs, and the tiniest little pieces of wood or rock. The wizard had sketched a painstaking runic circle in the earth, and then set his concealing disguise over the top of it. The small ceramic containers held a variety of alchemical materials, grounded in their containers. Only the tea in his cup and the fruit in his glassware were not actually part of the magical experiment that Felix was conducting, all under the guise of a relaxing summer afternoon.

Felix placed his order with the server at the outdoor cafe, having clearly not inspected his surroundings well enough when he chose this location for a relaxing drink after work. He stretched out his long legs and reached for the tablet in the green leather case that had been waiting for him on the table.

Barely had he tapped the device before he was redirected to an app he didn't even know was installed, flourishing a page at him that he'd never seen. Felix Harrowgate was not on Facebook. It was beneath his dignity. How he had landed on the blasted site, he didn't understand, but there it was -- and it was suddenly, loudly, shouting a pop song at him in Korean whilst simultaneously spewing a deeply unamusing American comedy routine and attempting to suggest that he prepare "unicorn cupcakes" in just twenty-seven easy steps. All at once, all at top volume.

"Oh for the love of cats," Felix snarled, poking desperately at the screen in a vain attempt to shut the thing up.

Pippa still harboured a tremendous amount of ill will for the fae prince, but she'd promised Fin she'd lay off. And she could see that he brother was in no shape for a fight. Pip wasn't always the most compassionate person and she knew it...but things were different when it came to Fin.

She reached over and covered his hand.

"How do you feel about that?" she asked.

Crowley chuckled darkly, the smoke he'd just inhaled rolling out of his mouth. He looked to Felix and smiled. A thin smile, a viper's smile.

"The cupcakes do sound tasty, don't they?" he asked. The day was just so delightful he could hardly stand it.

"I left first, didn't I?" Fin replied- But that was a disingenuous answer, and he was sure Pippa knew it.

Sighing, he leant back in his seat, running his thumb over the abused edge of the wooden table, feeling every bump, ding and scratch left behind by the people who'd sat here before them over the years. How did he feel? He wasn't sure. Nothing... Maybe too many things.

"I left, because... The walls were caving in, you know? Our lives were being lived in this little box where we were both so dependent on one another that we couldn't see how we were destroying one another- And we were, Pip. I know he was a right bastard, and I know you hate him, but it went both ways. In the end I was hurting him too. Now he's gone and I- I'm afraid, I guess. I don't know how to exist on my own anymore. I tried in New York, and- I don't know how well I did, if I'm honest. ...At the same time though, it's good. It's good. We need to be apart for a while. I think we both need to find ourselves again."

"You were on your own for so long, Fin. You were fine before you met him. I know your heart and all, but you made it through your days. You're strong. A survivor. You don't need him or anyone," she said.

"And for what it's worth, you're really not alone. Not alone in the world. You've got friends. You've got me. You've got your career and fans. A lot of people love you, Fin. I think you're right. It's good."

At the next table, taking a break both from her playing and from chasing hints of her husband, Curnen was scrolling through her Facebook feed. She hadn't particularly wanted to get any sort of social media; when she'd been lost to the world back in the 60s you could pretend at privacy in a way that you couldn't anymore. That was worth missing, as far as she was concerned.

A video started playing--blasting, really--and at first she tried to find a way to turn it off... until she saw what it was.

Her baby cousin Page had shared it, some girls from the high school. Janet Harper was supposed to be a savant, proficient in any instrument she lay her hands on. Most any Tufa could play and sing better than a normal human, but Janet's band, Little Trouble Girls, showed signs of actually having a decent shot at a career. The song was one of their own, and it had energy, heart, and craft beyond what you'd expect of teenage girls in a garage.

Curnen stopped to watch, smiling for real for the first time in hours. "Awww..."

The server came over, and Fin ordered a pint and a plate of chips- Then, as an after thought, a burger as well. He waited for Pip to order as well, and didn't speak until they were alone again.

"I feel really alone," he admitted. "And that's not a slight on you or anyone else, I just- I do."

Pippa ordered a burger, too, and a diet coke. She was starving and her mouth watered at the thought of food. But once the server was gone, Fin became a much more pressing problem.

"Well, we can't have that," she said firmly. "Do you want to stay with me? Or I'll stay with you. Or you could invite someone else. I don't want you to be isolated, Fin. Not until you're feeling more yourself."

That was hardly the reaction he'd been aiming for. Of course the law of averages said that at least some of the people might enjoy this, but he knew most would not.

"Wipe that smile off your face, pigeon. You're in public," he scolded.

Back at Halloween, Winter had gotten her away from Rockhouse at a time she'd been just as frozen by horror even though all the logic in the world had told her that it couldn't have been her father before her.

Whoever this was, he had Winter in the same way, fear and sick longing and old trodden paths of habit. Winter wasn't screaming like she had, but it was in every line of him.

Humming a tune of comfort and protection, Curnen reached out and took his hand, giving it a little tug.

Curnen looked up from her phone, recognizing the voice more than anything else about him. As she tried to place him, she just asked, "And why would I wanna be doing that?"

"You're embarrassing yourself," Crowley replied dryly. "Everyone looking at you will think you've lost your mind."

Curnen shrugged. "You seem to be doin' okay, and I reckon I've dealt with worse anyway."

"Worse than the London public and their opinion? My dear, what fresh Hell have you been through?" he asked with an oily smirk.

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GP - Wild Magic 2: Chaotic Evil Boogaloo

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