londoncallingrpg | Entries tagged with finlay alexander flynn

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!)

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)

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.)

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.)

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!)

so_thoughtless

Epimetheus wasn't like Prometheus when it came to powers and magic. He had power, sure, but he'd never mastered it the way his twin had. He hadn't needed to, really. He'd never been trapped in the mortal realm after all, he came and went as he pleased- Using portals. ...Portals he generally had others open for him. However, since he was traveling alone lately, the only way to pop back home for a bit was to crack one open himself, using the only spell he knew to do so. A very blunt spell, honestly, that Prometheus had scolded him time and time again for using. 'Spells like this aren't like garage door openers, you know. They don't just open one portal, they'll open any in range,' the other titan had scolded, though all Epimetheus had said in return was 'What's a garage door?'.

That had been some time ago, but Epimetheus had used the spell many times since. He'd never noticed any ill effects personally, and didn't have the foresight to see how it might go a bit wrong. So this morning when he'd popped home to see Pandora, he'd gone on as he always did- Oblivious to any trouble he might be causing elsewhere.

(Portals are opening and closing all over london, letting things into the city from other places, times, ect. The sky is the limit here! Have anything you want slip through into the city- Or maybe let your pups go stumbling through one themselves? The choice is yours! This post will be open all next week, so tag in and then check back often! As always, we trust you guys not to go too crazy with this power, but please, no wrecking the city or doing anything that might cause gamewide issues without checking in with us first. Also, like any plot, feel free to have your pups sit out or be completely oblivious to the chaos. Assume that Torchwood and the like are keeping it out of the papers. ;) Have fun!)

winter_wisp

Philip was a very busy bird.

No, King Philip, Slayer of Worms, was very busy and important bird. Arguably the most busy and important bird in all of England. ...At least according to Winter Wisp anyway. He was a very lucky bird as well, having managed to secure a happy nesting spot in the home of Sunny Nwazue, a witch he was very fond of, who had lots of shiny things to play with, and delicious foods. Winter had delicious foods as well, and a very ample tree, but pixies could be so loud sometimes. There was Fin the fae also, a fae the bird was happy to torment and bully in its free time- But most of the time if Philip was home, home was with Sunny.

Today he wasn't home though. He had a whole big city to enjoy after all, and while worms were fine and dandy, today he wanted chips. All the chips. Not out of a bin like some scraggy rook or seagull though. No, he was having chips off a plate.

Feeling bold, the plump budgie swooped down off the branch where he was currently perched and onto the table bellow. He perched right on the edge of the table, folded his wings- And then offered up his best 'I'm Cute' pose as he began to chirp a little song. And no, he wasn't begging or doing tricks! He was being charming, there was a difference!

(OTA. It's a weird EP! It's Philip! He's a birb friend of Winter and Sunny's! He can't talk, and he isn't magic. ...Probably. Maybe. No one's really sure about that. Don't worry though, you don't have to do a whole thread with Philip, eventually either Winter or Fin will spot him and join in, just let me know who you'd rather have via slack or email. <3)

willysilver

Beltane was fast approaching. Beltane heralded the season of war. But of late Will's skin had begun to crawl. Magic he was familiar with, magic he had not felt for many years, magic strong and dark haunted him. It was not the strange magic of the Trooping fae that Fin possessed. No, this was familiar.

An old foe.

It wasn't simply a matter of the Unseelie whom Will and his brothers would battle and defeat, as was tradition. This was something he'd defeated with great cost long ago.

The Milesian.

He was keen and watchful as he knew they prowled the Earth. Somehow they had come back from banishment. And the strength of them had grown. Will knew the battle this year would be so much more weighty. There would be no need for a mortal on the field against the Milesian. They came from the Land of the Dead and would take as many lives as they could, fae and mortal alike. Today Will had heard tell of several people dead in the tube. Of course the authorities had their theories and suspicions, but Will knew. He just knew and so tonight with the initial investigation wrapped up he gathered his strength and descended into the tube stop. Magic crackled in the air. Dark magic. Dark as could be.

He reached for the neck of his guitar on his back and to those who could see such things his hand closed around the hilt of a broadsword. A few people waited for the train and Willy wasn't about to let them meet the same fate as the earlier travelers. Those hadn't been killed so much as claimed.

The Daoine Sidhe prince wasnt about to let his city fall to the enemy. Not even if he had to defend it all by himself.

prince_of_nymphs

Filming had run later than expected, and Fin was tired and hungry as he made his way home. He could have taken a car, but that just- It never felt right, it wasn't him. Instead he'd taken the tube most of the way, the carriage empty and quiet as it clacked along the tracks underground. With his headphones on, the fae closed his eyes, allowing his magic to rest.

He only opened them when he felt an odd crackle of power sparking around him, his magic focusing as he sat up straighter and removed his headphones. The lights in the carriage were flickering, and vines and dead leaves were scattered across the floor now- Though none of that was as jarring as the creature suddenly sitting across from him. It was pitch black, so dark it seemed to swallow any light that touched it, but it's eyes... They were bright and yellow, like no animal or beast he'd ever seen. The air around them felt colder, and Fin exhaled with a shiver, about to speak when the creature raised his hand and the world went dark.

It was three hours later when Fin came around, standing in a club, wearing clothes he didn't recognise and only dimly aware that he'd been dancing with someone. His head ached, and he felt like he'd drank too much too quick, a heavy feeling sitting in his gut leaving him hungry without an appetite. Someone was pawing at him, urging him to keep dancing, but Fin pulled away, stumbling towards the restrooms.

Leaning against the sink, Fin eyed his reflection, shocked by how pale and wild he looked. There were bruises on his neck, love bites, and he felt... He felt different, more fae than usual, his magic crackling through him, refusing to be contained. Usually that would have bothered him, but in that moment he just didn't care. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered, and he felt fearless as he splashed his face with water and headed back out to the crowd.

Eventually he stumbled out onto the street, that magic of his that made some people want him still coming off him in waves as he leaned against the side of the building and lit his last cigarette.

(OTA. Fin's magic is going a bit wild on him at the moment, so if you think your pup would be effected by that, feel free. It tends to make people desire him, but can also bring out violent tendencies, and often violent and sexual desires at the same time. However, how that effects your pup, or if it would effect them at all, is up to you. He is looking extremely fae at the moment, very pale and sharp, and probably a bit wild and unkempt. Find him on the street or in the club.)

londoncallingmods

The press weren't talking about it, but there were whispers on Twitter- Chatter about strange events, odd happenings. Little pockets of London where seemingly impossible things were happening. ...Except no one seemed to be able to get photos of these 'strange occurrences', and as we all know, if there are no pictures, it didn't happen.

A girl near the Thames had tweeted about seeing what looked like tiny creatures dancing across the surface of the water. A man on the underground had reported his bag briefly floating a foot off the ground. A boy in Topshop had tweeted about his own reflection trying to have a chat with him.

Those with magic in them could feel it. Little bubbles of playful power popping up all over the city, then vanishing again. Like a pot of water that never quite reached a boil. It was a gentle kind of magic though. Soft and playful- Not from the other side or any other part of the world, but right here in London. It was old and forgotten, and very keen to play with everyone- Magic and non-magic alike.

(Open all through next week and next weekend. Have the magic effect your character however you like, but keep in mind that this magic, whatever it is, is very pure and playful. It wouldn't cause harm- Though maybe inconvenience.)

prince_of_nymphs

This was, maybe, not the best idea he'd ever had, but ever since the day his magic had first shown him the wonder of transmutation, Fin had found he spent quite a bit of his free time as a fox. It was good for napping (especially on Will's pillow or lap), good for running around, didn't use nearly as much energy as channelling his magic into the ability to see... But for the most part he kept it inside the flat. He could still only turn into the fluffy white fox after all, and that made wandering outside quite hard.

He was desperate to run wild in the park like he had with Phouka that one day though. He couldn't explain it, but he itched for it the way he craved a cigarette in the morning. His magic wanted it- And so Fin had set about finding a way to make it possible. It had taken a bit of practice, but he was slowly mastering the art of obfuscating himself- Something he wished he'd mastered back when the paps had been on his case constantly. He wasn't an expert, but he was good enough that anyone without a touch of magic, or the like, wouldn't be able to spot him. ...Yeah, that was it. That was the whole plan to be honest. Hardly a work of genius, but it would do.

Finding a quiet spot in the park to shift hadn't been hard, and soon enough the little white fox was fleeing around in the grass. He chased birds, dug a few holes- Even found a pond to wash his paws in- Only to go fleeing around all over again. Though he did eventually wear himself out, flopping down near a tree and looking up at the stars that had become visible as night had crept in.

If someone would bring me food, this would be perfect, he thought, the words audible to anyone willing to listen, and his swishing tail visible to anyone looking.

(OTA, but be aware that only magic users can see and hear Fin currently. If he knows you and you're not magic, I can work with that too. He'd reveal himself to a friend. ^_^ Also he's not going to stay a fox the whole time, I promise. :P)

pippa_flynn

After weeks of agonizing about whether she was or wasn't pregnant with Akeem's baby, the relief of a definitive negative had done wonders for her. No longer was her skin stangely grey, no launger was she angular and gaunt.

Today Pippa was the picture of heath. Radiant with life and good cheer. She was dressed for shopping, a trim cut houndstooth single breasted coat with the hem of her red blouse peeking out from beneath the edge of the coat. Red leather gloves, black skin-tight leggings, and knee high black leather boots completed her look. Her hair was pinned up on each side and the luxurious weight of it tumbled down over her shoulders.

She paused as she exited Harrod's to check her phone. She had a few other places she simply must go, but for the most part she was simply shopping and finding joy in it. It had ben too long since she'd been able to empty her head and enjoy the banal.

"Oooh, I have enough stars for a free Grande. Starbucks next, it seems..."

She looked up and around, smiling at everyone around her. She desperately wanted to scream "I'M NOT PREGNANT!" to everyone, but she refrained. A smile would do.

wispofathing

How do you bear it?

Curnen had never heard Peggy Goins sound so tired and broken in her life. Miss Peggy had always been vivacious and cheerful, but she was taking the murder of her husband on top of all the other recent mayhem in the Tufa community about as well as could be expected. Which was to say, not at all. Tragic love stories were not new to their people, but the murder of a loved one… well. Curnen was the last to face that, which was why she supposed the now widowed Mrs. Goins was calling her. She couldn’t remember much if anything of the conversation, but that question had stuck with her.

How do you bear it?

It had banged around in her dreams by night, and by morning the barriers that Curnen had consciously or unconsciously put between herself and her past were in splinters and everything in her that wasn’t nailed down was shaking loose--her father and her mother and her husband and her birth and her curse. She tried to go about her day. She tried to put it all away again where it was supposed to be, but there was too much, too much too fast.

How do you bear it?

Her legs gave out in the middle of the sidewalk and she fell to her knees screaming. Not crying. Screaming. Screaming fit to tear her throat raw. Her hands tangled in her hair and tore at it almost hard enough to rip it out by the fistful, and yet the pain of this did nothing to soothe the storm inside. If anything, it seemed all the more determined to make itself known, the air temperature around her dropping sharply into freezing cold.

And she screamed. And screamed. And screamed.

high_voltage_magic

Isaiah was getting settled in. He was already glad that his north-midwestern accent was getting him slightly confused for a Canadian from time-to-time. But he'd settled into his dorm at the start of the semester, and now, he'd finally gotten familiar enough with maps of the city and such that he was doing what he was meaning to do for awhile now, though he'd been buried in classwork.

Right now, though, he was on the lookout for anything and everything magical in nature. Some of his research suggested that some groups in Europe, especially England, were magically inclined and hoarded secrets. Granted, the boards he'd learned it from weren't particularly credible, but things on the internet weren't particularly credible about this sort of thing in the first place.

There wasn't any harm in looking, after all.

So it was on this particular afternoon that Isaiah, dressed in a black hooded sweatshirt, dark blue jeans, and black leather boots, was walking down the street, a silver thread (okay, it wasn't real silver, but surely silver colored thread was fine, too, right?) tied to his middle finger, suspending a small pendulum made of a chunk of what was probably authentic quartz. With the spell he'd cast before leaving his apartment, it should guide him to anything, or anyone, magical.

Granted, paying attention to the pendulum meant he wasn't paying attention to what was in front of him. So when he bumped into someone, he stumbled back a few steps, surprised, and raised his gaze. "Sorry," he said. "Didn't see you there."

whispersoflove

Coby wasn't home, and hadn't left a note for him, so Anael was walking through the streets of London to get to Alcuin's home, enjoying the chill in the air, the way his breath fogged on the way out, the ebb and flow of love in the hearts around him. Hands in his jacket pockets, he paid no mind to the odd looks he occasionally received for wearing nothing but a denim jacket over a t-shirt in this weather.

It began as an itch in his back, a barely there scratch where his wings would be. He did not think much of it, only shifting his shoulders the way he normally did when the urge to let them out came over him. But then the itch burrowed deeper, and increasingly hotter, until it was more of a burn than anything else, and his lungs were alive with it.

He'd hurried into a side street with little foot traffic and leaned against a wall there, his breathing short and heavy. He tried to cloak himself, but he couldn't keep a hold on the miracle through the pain he was so unused to, and he collapsed to his knees as he heard words in a rough language that scraped against every fiber of his being, a language of Hell. His wings wouldn't come out and he folded to his side on the wet ground, seeing shadows on the other side of the street. They were all saying the words, out loud and right into his mind, and one of them came forward, a pair of boots stopping right in front of him. They pulled his t-shirt collar down and drew a symbol between his collarbones, their fingers red with - blood? The symbol felt like it was searing into his flesh. Anael cried out, physically as much as spiritually, praying out to God with all of his being.

The words ceased suddenly, pain abating slightly, and the dark figures dispersed as someone ran over to him.

kersen

Kersen sometimes did this thing where when he was feeling his worst, he tried to look his best. Elaborate drag when he was the most down, for example. Like maybe he could force cheerfulness with sequins and lipstick.

This time, he couldn't seem to muster up the energy for drag, though. What "look" said 'I just found out a lover is a serial killer'? Particularly coupled with 'what does this say about my taste in men'? Finally, he'd just gone with the forced cheerfulness: dark purple leather pants and a shirt (gifted to him by an employee years ago) that read OF COURSE I'M PRO-GAY, DO YOU THINK I WORK THIS HARD TO BE AN AMATEUR GAY in bright rainbow colors.

... also he'd started smoking again. Which was a little ironic since he was pretty sure that any effect they had on him was purely psychosomatic.

However, at the moment he was having a smoke break outside his bar. It was fairly early yet, just past 9pm. The streets were still full, lively with people leaving restaurants and shops, heading into bars and theaters. He liked this time of night, where the world was still alive. Wished he could experience more of it.

Some asshole walking by threw a homophobic slur at him, and he was briefly, stupidly tempted to flash his fangs as a threat. Instead he said, "The most fabulous you'll ever see, honey," and flicked the cigarette to the ground. Luckily it was the cowardly sort of asshole, and he just stuck up his middle finger and kept walking.

prince_of_nymphs

His new show had finally been announced, and he'd done a small round of press this morning. Radio, mostly. Just little interviews, mostly about his return to telly and the fact that he was starring in the reboot of a classic and beloved show. Nothing taxing, nothing thrilling. Just boring media- The side of the job Fin sort of wished he could skip. He managed to be his charming self though, deflecting when the questions got too personal, all while flirting shamelessly with a few of the interviewers. The public loved that, he'd found, and he wasn't shy about playing it up.

Mid-day found him wandering Covent Garden, two small shopping bags in one hand, Starbucks in the other. He was clean shaven, and his hair was getting a bit ridiculous again, just touching his shoulders as he walked, and occasionally getting in his face when he stopped to peek in shop windows. All and all, a dreadfully normal day. ...At least, it had been.

He'd been having little pains lately, ever since New Years. Nothing dreadful, but... Discomfort that was a bit too familiar. If felt like... It felt like his heart. Though it couldn't be, could it? Not now. not with his enchanted heart and fae blood. It had to be something mundane. Heartburn, perhaps. Something innocent.

That's what he kept telling himself- Even now when the pain returned. It was sudden and sharp, enough that he dropped his shopping and doubled over slightly, holding his chest and panicking a bit. He couldn't go to the hospital, couldn't risk them checking his blood... He had to do something though, and he pulled out his phone. Hand shaking, he wasn't sure which number he'd called. Wasn't even sure he'd managed to make a call.

(OTA- If you're friends with Fin, feel free to assume he called you! He's not well and could have easily called anyone in his contacts. ;) If you don't know Fin or your pup wouldn't be reachable for whatever reason, feel free to simply be in the right place at the right time. LT/ST very welcome. <3)

goodfellow

It was exactly one year since the pre-opening of Saturnalia, and the club had become even more successful than its proprietor had anticipated. In celebration, he opened its doors again for a blow-out of a New Year's Eve party, bringing back the theme of Greek decadence from the year before. Now, mingled against the typical industrial decor of the club (smattered with graffiti style murals of Greek myths), there were decorations of white and gold and reproductions of famous artwork, including a replica of the David statue in the middle of the floor.

Many in London had received invitations, including anyone with even the most distant connection to Robin Goodfellow, along with extra invitations as well. There was also a line outside, and the bouncers had been instructed to allow people in with some amount of randomness. After all, what fun was there in a party only filled with the rich and beautiful?

Unlike last year there was no expectation of any particular dress code, though there were many dancers and employees in the crowd in the skimpiest of togas to admire.

Alcohol was for sale, bartenders were talented, and also those employees in skimpy togas made their way through the crowd with shots and glasses of champagne on a regular basis. There were many dark corners and private rooms, and the music even made for dancing was sexy. All in all, it was clear that the theme of the night was modern hedonism.

prince_of_nymphs

He'd been on set most of the day, working on something that wouldn't air for several more months. It was nice to be working though, his magic and the potion Faizel had crafted for him making his vision passable and eyes clear looking. There were a lot of questions, of course, and quite a bit of gossip too- However, Fin had learned his lesson, and rather than make up lies about how he'd healed, he simply told the press and those who asked that it was personal, and that he didn't wish to dwell on it.

The aftermath of his party a few days ago still had him in a bad place though, and for all he should have been pleased to be working again, smiles were hard to come by.

Presently he was sitting outside the BBC office, perched on the steps and smoking. He was staring at his phone, aware he ought to call an uber- But struggling to focus enough to actually do so. He just felt so worn down, emotionally and physically, and he'd spent all the energy he'd had to push through it all on set. There was simply none left to aid him now.

It wasn't like him to be so down though, to let the problems of the past and present eat away at him so- And he told himself it was just a side effect of the season, rather than admit that, perhaps, the things he'd buried, the feelings he'd ignored, were just finally making their way to the surface.

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London Calling RPG

September 2017

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London Calling RPG

Entries tagged with finlay alexander flynn

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