Foxy - OTA

Nov. 21st, 2016 11:10 pm
finlay_flynn: (fox - srs)
[personal profile] finlay_flynn
There were still no textbooks or youtube videos on how to fairy, and so Fin was still learning by doing. Sometimes he would do his best to focus on something, like reviving wilted flowers or forcing the wrinkles out of his bed sheets. Other times he'd try slightly harder things, like changing an item into another item- Something he hadn't yet mastered, but at least had a grasp on the basics now.

He played with elements, toyed with using his magic to tidy up or take notes for him. Nothing huge, nothing grand. It was a slow build after all.

Occasionally, however, he let his magic lead. It was a part of him, yes, but just as his mind was prone to wandering and building worlds for him to jot down on paper, his magic had a tendency to- Create. An extension of his imagination, he assumed, and he often let it lead as he created small items from ice, or even repainted a whole room with idle thoughts. It was remarkable, the things he could do with little more than a spare thought and a vague grasp on his powers. Will was right, he was powerful. He understood now why the other fae had feared them.

Today he was simply laying on the sofa, a pen taking notes by itself on a pad of paper nearby while he drew random patterns in the air with the tip of his finger. He was working on a pitch for a mini series, something prompted by a friend at the network, but his mind was dancing between ideas, and his magic was, for a lack of a better word, getting a bit bored it seemed. Or, perhaps he was bored and just didn't want to admit it.

The pen slowed, then stopped, and Fin closed his eyes as he sighed softly.

"Perhaps I should leave this all behind, go live in the woods on the Other Side, to be a wild thing like my kin," he mused. "You could come, if you like," he told Keats, opening one eye and looking over at the German Sheppard. The dog simply yawned though, then settled back in to finish his nap.

"No? Alright then. I'll just live alone then. Or, perhaps I'll live with Winter's pixie friends," he joked, smiling as his mind wandered to thoughts of thick forest like areas, wild flowers and strange stones. The many wonders of the world that was apparently his true home. The memories of his brief time there made his magic long for it- Or, again, perhaps it was just him. His secret desires, the needs of his blood. Whatever it was, it was powerful, and as Fin slowly got to his feet and headed for the private rooftop garden for a smoke, he felt something shift inside of him- Then outside.

It wasn't an unpleasant feeling, yes, he was suddenly small and a touch fluffy, but the sudden shift from human to fox had been painless- Pleasant, even. So much so that Fin had simply gone along with it. It was just more of his magic after all, harmless enough it seemed... At first.

Three hours later, and Fin was still a fluffed up white fox. He'd managed to get back inside the flat, but no matter what he tried, he couldn't seem to make himself human again. He was sure part of that was due to how worked up he'd gotten himself when his first attempt had failed, but now- Now he couldn't seem to calm down at all.

He'd gone looking for Will first, but the other fae was clearly out, and using a phone as a fox was a lost cause. Even if he could have dialled a number, he was struggling to speak. All he managed were some odd purrs and sharp sounds. Nothing intelligible. Clearly he would have to seek out help elsewhere. ...Perhaps Phouka and Winter might help, though they were quite a way away, and he really didn't think any Uber driver in their right mid would pick him up.

Well, a walk wouldn't be so bad. ...Not if he stayed hidden, right?

He'd barely made it three blocks before he'd been spotted, and he was currently cowering in an alley while a rather large and unpleasant man was attempting to whack him with the blunt end of a broom.

Oh, fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck,
he thought, unaware that anyone passing by with magic ability or sensitivities could hear him loud and clear.

(OTA. I was going to put this up on Thanksgiving since I'm off all day, but figured there was no harm in tossing it up early. ^_^ If you think your pup could hear Fin's magic telepathic chatter, be my guest. Or if you just want to save a fluffy fox, feel free! As always, late tags and slowtime are welcome.)
londoncallingmods: (calling)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
The world at large seemed heavier this week, bad news from across the pond drifting over like a bad storm and raining down on the city. Still, stiff upper lip and all that. If London had stopped every time things had seemed bleak, it would have fallen long ago.

And so life went on, as it must. 

The skies were a bit grey and the streets slightly damp, but the Christmas lights were coming on early this year, and Harrods already had the streets lit up with wonder and sparkle. Cafes and bars followed suit, and twinkling lights were everywhere you looked, casting a much needed bit of whimsy and wonder over the stark looking faces that passed by. It was hard to stay grim when children and adults alike seemed so entranced by it all.

There were plenty of events going on as well. From the Lord Mayor's Show or the Dulwich Christmas Bazaar, to the usual concerts, festivities, and even bowling

London may have looked a bit foggy and miserable, but there was pleanty of joy to be found for those who went looking.

(Gathering post! Just a nice mellow post to combat those post election blues, and balance out the drama from Halloween. As always, this post will be open for at least a week, so tag in and check back often to tag others. <3)
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!)
finlay_flynn: (throwing shade)
[personal profile] finlay_flynn
It had taken quite a bit of time, but Fin was slowly learning how to focus his magic to make his vision clearer. It was odd, he'd spent so much time using massive amounts of energy and focus in an attempt to make it work- And yet, in the end, it had been his calm that aided him best. The more relaxed he was, the more at ease he became with his magic, the better his vision became. 

So he'd taken a new approach to it all, practicing his magic alone in a quiet space. He spent hours just feeling it out, learning to flex it like a muscle and curl it like a finger. It had been remarkably simple once he'd learned to treat it like any other limb, and while he was no master yet, today he was out without his cane or sunglasses. His eyes still slightly milky, but focused. It wasn't perfect, a bit like seeing under water, to be honest, but it was <i>something</i>, and it was empowering to have his sight back and under his control.

He'd been all over town this morning, but for lunch he'd settled down outside a favourite pub, a pint by his elbow and a plate of chips in front of him for his lunch. At first he'd just been people watching, but after a few minutes a rather plump, and easily recognizable budgie landed on his table, chatting at him and hopping a bit.

"Hello Philip," he said, breaking one of his chips in half and offering it to the bird. The budgie peeped in approval, and Fin grinned as he watched the tiny animal devour the salty nibble. Such a simple sight, and yet it was wonderful to be able to enjoy it. "You'll explode one of these days," he tutted at the bird, pressing his fingers together and using his magic to construct a tiny little crown. It was light and thin, but it looked like gold. 

"There you are, King Philip, slayer of worms," he said softly, placing the tiny crown on Winter's beloved bird's head. Philip clearly approved, and preened a little- Before looking annoyed when the crown slipped off his head and turned into little more than gold dust.
pippa_flynn: (Sister and Brother)
[personal profile] pippa_flynn
"It would just be for a month, two at most. I haven't said yes yet, but- I think I should. I mean, how often am I going to get offers like this, Pip?"

He'd meant to tell Pippa his plan to travel to America over lunch, but things had been going so well, and they'd been having such a nice time of it. He just hadn't wanted to spoil it, and so they were lingering on the pavement, having been about to call for an uber when Fin had blurted out the fact that he'd been offered a small role in a major motion picture.

"A month or two? Fin, that's ridiculous! You can't. America is dangerous. And you know how it is right now with the election and all the shootings. No. No, I'm putting my foot down on this. you can't go," she said. Of course it was fueled by deep concern- she was so protective of Fin- but she dug her heels in on this and it didn't come off as worry, it just came off as bossy.

"I wasn't asking permission," Fin replied flatly. "See, this is why I didn't want to tell you. You always think you know what's best. You always have"

Fin didn't know it, but the sudden spike of anger he felt was enough to make his already wild magic strike out- Not at Pippa, but at the world. Though he wasn't so angry that it did any real damage. ...Instead it simply turned all the traffic lights in a four block radius red.

"It's only because I do know what's best," she huffed, her own magic reacting in response to his, twisting together with Fin's to amplify it. Traffic snarled and even the crossing lights stalled out, too. The wifi in the nearby cafe cut out.

"I'm just worried about you, Fin. This isn't the time for such a big change," she said.

Fin frowned, raking his fingers through his long hair. "Pip... It's not up to you, alright? I'm not asking, I'm just letting you know. I'm thinking I might do it, alright?" he replied, his tone growing sharper.

"This is stupid. Fin, please be rational about this. If nothing else, what about that fae fuck? You'll get sick again!" she insisted.

(Joint post with Fin and Pippa. If you'd prefer to tag just one put the name in your subject line XD)
winter_wisp: (coffee iz mine)
[personal profile] winter_wisp
Since deciding they needed their own place, it felt as though all Winter and Phouka had done was look at flats. Big flats, small flats, ugly flats, flashy flats... So many flats that Winter was fairly certain that if he never had to look at another 'recently renovated' bathroom again, he could die a happy pixie.

The worst part was that none of them, not one, felt right. They were all so boxy, so cold and dull. Even the ones with 'character' felt hollow and lifeless. No wonder fae Willy was wilting when he spent so long surrounded by mundane mortal aesthetics. 

It was a walk through Hyde Park that had changed everything. Winter had been thinking about his home back in the village, the mushroom he'd turned into a home with the help of his magic. ...If he could turn a mushroom into a home while he was small, surely he could make a tree a home while he was big. ...Especially now that he'd matured a bit more.

And so that was how they'd wound up here, a tree in Hyde park that was now their home. It was perfect, in Winter's opinion, and he and Phouka had taken their time decorating it and filling it with the things they loved. Getting it just right, and ready to be shown off.

The invites had been sent to everyone they could think of, written by hand in silver ink on black paper. 

You're Invited To Our Home!
Time: 8:00
Place: The Largest Tree behind The Serpentine Gallery
Please Bring Gifts
Food And Drink Will Be Provided.
 
Brown Meg had prepared mountains of food, and Winter had gone out and bought as much booze and pop as he could carry. Music filled the tree, but outside it was silent. Winter realised belatedly that he should have mentioned on the invite that to enter the tree you only need to push against the trunk and a door would be revealed to those who were expected or welcome. ...But he was sure people could figure it out.
 
 

(OTA, if you've ever met either of them, or are a friend of a friend, just assume you got an invite! Winter and Phouka will both have top levels, but use this post like any other GP.)

OTA

Aug. 14th, 2016 01:24 am
willysilver: (Default)
[personal profile] willysilver
It was a lovely night by all accounts. The weather was just cool enough for a jacket, the breeze making the leaves flutter and twitch. The moon hung bright in the sky, nearly full, and in the park there were people enjoying the night.

Willy was out busking tonight, though he had no heart for it. No joy, no enchantment. Tonight, as for the past nights, he sat on the edge of a fountain and he played sorrowful songs of lost love. He understood them now. He had never truly understood love, that much he had come to realise since Fin had departed. He knew desire and passion, he knew friendship, he knew possession, but he had never understood partnership or equality or even the necessity of respect. He knew now, though.

It was a hard learned lesson. His music wasn't the only thing lacking enchantment. His own visage was ashy grey, his luxurious hair drooped flat, the curls dull and limp. There was no light in his green eyes, they were flat and dull and dark.

His fingers strummed the strings mournfully.

I've stolen all the stars to make a wish we can fly
Away, away up high to that old place in time
Where our pictures never fade and our hearts don't lie
Won't you stay a while and watch our world go by
I'll keep holding on to you and your Saturday smile

Has our Autumn died
Help me find you again

I think it's love
I think it's love
That gets us through
All our goodbyes
So when we die
Think of love
I'll think of love
And thoughts of you
To lay me down
I think it's love
That keeps us new

If only it could be the very first time
Kiss me like it means something inside
I don't want to leave and I'm afraid to find
Our fate die in a dream and let me know you're not mine
Lie a little longer, my Saturday smile

Has our Autumn died
Help me find you again

I think it's love
I think it's love
That gets us through
All our goodbyes
So when we die
Think of love
I'll think of love
And thoughts of you
To lay me down
I think it's love
That keeps us new


The people who passed nearby were struck by the power of the fae's melancholy. He mourned not only his lost love, but the fact that he couldn't find him. He had visited the hotel many times but now the Phouka and Winter had gone off to make a home of their own and Fin did not come or go from the hotel anymore. And the longer he was gone the harder it became to feel him with any specificity in the city of millions. He knew he needed to find Fin to speak to him, do make what repairs he could, but he could hardly find the energy to even strum the stings tonight.
goodfellow: (dark)
[personal profile] goodfellow
It had taken considerably longer than Robin anticipated, thanks to some building code issues that had pushed back his renovations by months, but following the thrown together "preview" on New Year's Eve (that had gone very well if he did say so himself), Saturnalia was finally officially open for business.

The inside of the club looked somewhat different than it had in January: more polished now, better decorations, furniture, lighting. There was still Greek inspiration, particularly in the murals on the walls - modern, graffiti-inspired versions of Greek art and myths, bright colors splashed amidst chrome industrial decor. Most of the employees (bartenders, dancers) were wearing togas.

The grand opening was a hot ticket, but Robin had sent out invitations generously, and instructed the bouncers at the door to let in the beautiful people as usual, yes, but to be rather random about it as well. After all, what was the fun in only the rich and beautiful?

Alcohol was free flowing, and the music was hot, spun by a DJ on a stage who seemed to have the perfect sense of the crowd. He may have even had a little help by magic. Because why leave these things to chance?

OTA

May. 15th, 2016 09:15 pm
finlay_flynn: (dawn)
[personal profile] finlay_flynn
Since the incident, Fin had taken to self medicating. More so than usual- Much more. Fin often seemed to have the lingering scent of high end cannabis woven into his clothes, but lately he was hitting the harder stuff again as well. though he'd always been very high functioning for a user- Enough so that anyone who didn't know him well might not even know he was high.

It was slowly taking a toll though, in subtle ways. His temper, which had already been a bit unpredictable of late, was shorter now, and his inhibitions- Which had become more and more minimal over time- were nearly non-existent.

So tonight on his way into the club when several paparazzi began harassing him, Fin didn't respond the way he'd been taught to. ...No, quite the opposite. 

They shouted questions about his sexuality, about the sex tape, about his mysterious partner- Sometimes politely, but often crude and almost taunting. Like they wanted to provoke.

Little did they know, they really didn't need to put that much effort in.

Rather than answer, Fin caught the first person to approach him around the middle, dipping them low- Not unlike he had in a recent film of his, in a scene that had been called quite 'swoon-worthy' by his dedicated tumblr fans.

"What do you think?" he asked his surprise partner. "Should I tell them about us, lover?"

(OTA Even strangers! I thought Fin could use something a bit light hearted, so here you go. If your pup tags in, he'll prolly snog them. (The only exception I can think of is Sunny, because that would be kinda incesty imo :P) Though if you'd rather he didn't, just give me a poke on slack or email me, and instead of giving them a kiss, he'll just escort them into the club or something. XD The club can be any kind you like!)
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!)
toujours_impur: (happy puppy)
[personal profile] toujours_impur
The past few days have been rather traumatic for Sirius, but he was doing his best not to dwell on it, because he had a whole new London to get on with getting used to, a new life to start. Thank God Remus had been here and had somehow been the one to find him, because he wasn't sure what would have happened otherwise. He likely would have been arrested by the muggle police and probably even been declared insane, for he would have insisted it was 1981, not 2016.

Instead, he'd been taken to Moony's flat and been taken care of as well as caught up on this new reality he found himself in. A trip to the Ministry had gotten him further sorted, and while there was one more meeting he would need to undertake soon, he wasn't quite ready to meet the adult version of the infant he'd seen just a few nights ago in Hagrid's arms.

But at least he now had money in his pocket, and he knew just where he wanted to spend it. He'd always enjoyed muggle toys (which reminded him, he'd have to find a way to get a new motorbike, as he had no idea where his old one might be by now, and at any rate it was decades old even if he could locate it), and from what he'd seen so far of Remus' mobile phone, he knew he absolutely had to get one of his own.

Finding a shop to purchase one hadn't been difficult; he'd simply asked the first person he saw peering at their little screen where they'd got it and gone there. The problem now was that there were an awful lot of models and varieties to choose from, and he had no bloody clue what he was looking for, what made one version more or less desirable than the next. He wandered around the shop peering at the little cards that announced each phone's features (which may as well have been in Bulgarian for all the sense he could make of them), fighting the urge to just buy the most expensive one in the shop and be done with it, as he no longer had unlimited funds available, at least for the moment. "Which one do you like?" he asked a nearby person with a flash of his charming smile, not bothering to check if they were an employee or if he was simply hassling a random customer.

[Welcome to modern-day London, Padfoot! If your pup wouldn't have a reason to be inside a mobile phone store, feel free to run into him outside trying to figure out how to work his shiny new smartphone. :D)

OTA

May. 3rd, 2016 08:35 pm
finlay_flynn: (fluffy headed boy)
[personal profile] finlay_flynn
The 'sex tape' had turned out to not be much of a tape at all. It was only about five minutes long, and appeared to have been filmed on someone's camera phone. It was a bit kinky, yes, involving handcuffs and quite a bit of filthy talk, but... Honestly, Fin thought it was quite tame by his standards. 

Still, it was out, and every media outlet had seemed to have something to say about it. The reactions ranged from shock and moral outrage, to long think pieces about how refreshing it was to see a sex tape that seemed genuinely candid, to even longer think pieces about the death of privacy. Though Fin's favourites had been the ones that pretended to be outraged that the clip was so short, and the few who'd been bold enough to reach out and talk to him about it.

In the end, loathe though he was to admit it, Crowley had been right. Owning it, in this case, had worked in his favour. The press and public were, for the most part, taking it quite well, and other than a few jokes on morning radio and late night telly, he'd come out unscathed. ...In fact, it had even opened a few doors for him. Over the past few days a few scripts had landed on his desk that he was positive he'd have never seen a week ago. Racier roles, roles that, for a change, didn't only cast him as straight. 

Sure, he didn't want to fall into a pigeon hole of only playing gay men, but... Well, he couldn't say he wasn't eager to play a part where he'd be a bit more himself in some way.

It was all very freeing, and he was in a better mood than usual as he loitered outside his favourite club, smoking a cigarette and enjoying the cool night air.

(Find Fin outside any club. If you're feeling spicy, it can be a fetish club, if you're feeling tame, just a normal club. XD)
faizel: (worry)
[personal profile] faizel
It was chilly out that evening, not cold, but cool enough that Faizel had pulled on his favourite long and sweeping overcoat. The dark emerald green stood out against the rich tone of his skin, and the deep burgundy of his shirt. Each step he took offered a flash of the green and gold brocade lining, and together contributed to the very distinct look the young wizard leaned towards. A careful mesh of what was familiar, and what passed as 'normal' in the mortal realm.

He'd paused to get coffee and a pastry in a small cafe, and though he was attempting to decide which delight to call his dinner, his gaze kept drifting to a fair haired boy near the front of the queue. He was petite, with bright blue eyes and short, white blonde hair. ...And Faizel was certain he knew him.

Their eyes locked briefly, and it seemed that they each made the connection at the same time.

"Winter," he gasped, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

The pixie was already moving though, leaving his place in line and rushing out the door, causing Faizel to do the same.

"No, Winter! Wait," the wizard pleaded, chasing after the spry creature.

He could have used his magic to end the chase in an instant, but the last thing he wanted to do was spook the pixie any more than he already had. He understood well why he would run, but wished he would stop for just a moment and allow him to speak.

When he turned the corner, the pixie was gone.

"Winter, please... If you're here- Just come out. I only wish to talk. I don't mean you any harm."

(OTA! Winter can still be there and hiding if you'd like, or the pixie can be long gone. You can have had your pup have seen Faizel chasing him, or simply find him in the alley. It's up to you! Also, DW isn't sending me notifications still, so I might be slow.)
finlay_flynn: (pensive and beardy)
[personal profile] finlay_flynn
He'd been working on the book since just after he'd lost his vision, and after a few re-writes and a lot of changes in his life, it was finally finished, and there was finally a release date and cover art.  On May 17th Fin's book, The Rough Spark would be released, with a short book tour that would follow. 

Tonight, however, was just about celebrating its completion and the impending printing, and Finlay had rented a large hall and invited all his friends, and his friends friends, to come and celebrate- And hopefully get the word out.

A large poster hung on the back wall, displaying the cover art they'd finally settled on. It wasn't flashy, but Fin felt it was a good fit, a single shattered light bulb with one tiny ember still burning inside. The party had a dark industrial feel to it's décor, but like any celebration it was also full of food, music, and drink.

(OTA. It's Fin's party, but treat it as you would any GP! Also, feel free to assume your pup received an invitation somehow, either via a friend or from fin himself.)

ota

Mar. 16th, 2016 11:09 pm
winter_wisp: (:|)
[personal profile] winter_wisp
Lately Winter was out and about again, enjoying London and absorbing the culture- Well, the pop culture anyway. His outfits grew louder and more outragious each day it seemed, and the music he played grew thumpier and trendier every week. 

Tonight, however, the pixie was dressed down, wearing mostly black as he loitered outside a shop that offered piercings and tattoos. He was itching for one of each, wanting to fit in more with the mortal youths he danced with every night. To look more like the faces he saw in magazines and online. 

He wanted to be different from his kin, by being more like the mortals. ...And yet here he stood, unsure and nervous, unable to take that first step through the door.

EP

Mar. 10th, 2016 09:45 pm
thenorthman: (Default)
[personal profile] thenorthman
When Eric had decided to take over the Blood Diamond, he hadn't been certain whether changes would have to be made. It was perfect as it stood, it turned out. The club sprawled on two floors, and the second floor was full of nooks and crannies meant for a few minutes' privacy. In another life, it might have been a sex club, and while Eric would be surprised if none of those small corners were ever used for that purpose, their main function was... blood donation.

And humans loved it. The change in owner was so smooth it hardly phased them, aside from a couple of Clark's pets, but humans as a whole came to the club as numerous as usual. Some of them knew what they were walking into, and came specifically seeking out vampires, while others simply thought it was a gothic place and came for the atmosphere. It worked perfectly, and Eric could only applaud the previous owner for his ingenuity.

Not that the previous owner would appreciate that, seeing as he would soon meet the true death at Eric's hand. An Authority-approved kill, fortunately.

That night, like most nights, found Eric anonymously having a drink at the bar, keeping an eye on the going-ons of the club. Now and then, he made a visit to the second floor, simply checking on things, or stepped outside for the same reason. And when he felt hungry, he turned to the nearest person at the bar and simply smiled at them, a charming, inviting sort of smile, with just a hint of danger thrown in.

After decades spent running that fucking video store, the Blood Diamond was the perfect reprieve.



OOC: Find him anywhere in or outside the club! I'll grab you in Slack if it starts looking like he might glamour your character, so we can talk it out.
treasuredtales: (Default)
[personal profile] treasuredtales
The board meeting had had a few hiccups, and in the end, Belinda had resorted to magic to see things settled to her liking. The two newest members seemed to have believed Belinda being board chair and majority shareholder meant nothing when she was also young (apparently), black, and female. True, she generally let the business-minded handle the business aspects of the company, but delegating responsibilities was the mark of a good leader. Padding the bottom line at the expense of the creators who were the soul and source of the products Loreworks traded in might work in the short-term, but it was bad business over time, and Belinda had had to be rather insistent on that subject.

After the meeting, Belinda felt she’d earned a bit of a treat, so she stopped in at one of her favorite bookshops. In a manner of speaking. She wasn’t sure she could pick one favorite bookshop, when there were reasons to love them all. So much, she decided to make a day of it, going from one shop to another: from the large Waterstone’s and Foyles to Shapero’s rare books, shops specializing in signed first editions, and those with shelves and shelves of yellowing paperbacks, new books and old books, and everything in between.

Belinda sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by small piles of books she'd pulled from the shelves, her choices following an impulse that would probably seem random to anyone watching. Children's books, weighty literary fiction, sci-fi and fantasy both, mysteries and romance, and more - if it was a kind of fiction, it was probably represented in her selections. She paid no mind to how she was blocking half the aisle, although someone coming near was enough to get her to glance up from the book she was flipping through.

OTA

Jan. 19th, 2016 12:46 am
jageskro: (my long hair says fuck you)
[personal profile] jageskro
It was like an itch you knew you weren't supposed to scratch. A lot of things had become clearer to Jag, about himself, since he'd watched Hex's videos, and somehow, the closer it came to the time Val would be back, the more Jag wanted to give in to his 'old' habits and do something really stupid. Start a bar in a fight with an arsehole or two, and get hurt.

It was as far from healthy as he could get, he realised, and that was why he hadn't started a bar fight in over a month now. He was in a bar right now, having a pint and trying to resist the desire to walk over to the bastards in the booth right behind him. Their racist, homophobic conversation wasn't making it easy on him. He was waiting for the misogyny to make an appearance, really. He'd barely touched his pint in the last ten minutes and was gnawing on his thumb's nail, feet propped on his bar stool, one leg bouncing.

OTA

Jan. 18th, 2016 06:06 pm
winter_wisp: (:/)
[personal profile] winter_wisp
It had taken some time for Winter to grow bold enough to leave the flat again, and even now he stayed quite near the flat, sitting in a cafe that Fin had taken him to a few times and sipping the largest latte they had. It was gingerbread, apparently. Winter thought it tasted like comfort.

The pixie had taken a seat near the window, lost in an oversized armchair and reading a book someone had left behind. A mortal tale about a detective who seemed to solve mysteries for 'dames'. Great dames, Winter assumed, since he was always talking about how long this one's legs were.

Great dames were, apparently, saucier than Winter had thought, and were also prone to having their husbands shot.

"Bad dog," Winter tutted, turning the page and then lowering his book to glance at his drink.

Fascinating as the story was, Winter found himself constantly glancing about- As if expecting someone to attack. His heart fluttered every time someone passed his table, and his drink was always supervised. ...That's how they got you, the bad mortals. That's what he'd learned. They poisoned your drink with potions to make your forget and to sleep. ...These monsters who looked just like all the other mortals, impossible to spot. They were sneaky and they were everywhere- And Winter was sure it was only a matter of time before another attacked.

OTA

Jan. 9th, 2016 04:11 pm
wandandawolf: (Default)
[personal profile] wandandawolf
Not for the first time in his life, Remus got up and looked at London. The Ministry had arranged for a stipend and an apartment in town: and with typical Ministry efficiency and precision had gotten him a flat in one of the new developments in Docklands, not far from Canary Wharf. It was the sort of thing that most people would be fighting over in an auction and the Ministry thought it wasn't 'too flash' because most of their maps of Muggle London dated from the 1860s.

So in the morning, Remus had a cup of tea, some fruit with yoghurt from the fridge, and simply sat on the couch in a dressing gown and enjoyed the view. The city spread out below into the distance: he could see grey city block after grey block, with the London Eye and Westminister tucked in behind the Eye, and the Thames winding through the landscape. It was all so different, and every morning, it was all so present. Sirius would have loved exploring it, until he got bored, and Lily and James would have taken Harry to all the museums, and - no.

Not for the first time of late, Remus felt a stranger in his own town. So after breakfast, he did his usual: he showered, slapped on some clothes, and prowled the streets a little with his wand tucked away safely. He had a notebook with him, and a pencil, with a list of all the shops and places he remembered from 1980, and he was slowly working through and crossing most of them off....

A wizard-friendly jewelers his father had liked to used was still trading, and the son-of-the-father who had served Remus' father remembered him. But all Remus could think about there was his mother's wedding ring, and the little locket he'd bought Lily and the spells he'd bound into it, and so he walked on.

In the other pocket of his tweed jacket, he had a battered copy of Milton. There wasn't much to do with his days other than park himself at a cafe and read, nursing a pot of cooling tea for hours. He had to decide something at some point, he knew he did. Just not yet.

It had been a bustling Friday, for all the sharpness of the wind: Londoners out and about, tourists thronging the pavement, a mix of scents and sounds to assault the senses. Easier to stick his nose in a book and shut it all out.

The evening crept up on him gradually, and Remus curled the thick scarf he had around his neck, jamming a flat cap on and tugging on some gloves. They only lasted until he found the nearest pub, a hive and dive of pretty young things doing what pretty young things did best. Standing at the bar, he perused the liquors on display, before selecting something that looked a vile yellow. He didn't easily get drunk thanks to a certain enhanced constitution, but trying to get absolutely wasted had more appeal these days than it used to.

"Augh," was his reaction: it was sickly-sweet and so, so strong. "That is absolutely vile, and I will definitely have another." He grinned at the person next to him, a little manic, a little too desperate to be joyous: "Would you like to join me?" Money was not a problem. Company was.

[Have a Remus. Feel free to meet him anywhere on his journey: bump into him on the street, find him at a cafe, or chat to him in a pub. Most supernatural types should tell he's a lycanthrope wizard a mile away.]

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