willysilver: (Princely)
[personal profile] 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.)


Apr. 30th, 2017 07:42 pm
pippa_flynn: (Seductive)
[personal profile] pippa_flynn
Pippa worked when she saw fit. Not every case that came to her was one she took. Sometimes she needed the money so she'd take a jilted lover or a runaway teen, but mostly she kept her time free for cases that interested her. This week she'd gotten a juicy case. Vampires abducting young men and women. Of course anything with vampires intrigued her. She'd set about tracking down the nest that was central to the location of the abductions.

She also had her contacts. She'd touched base with a few of them to pump them for information. Something in the back of her mind told her she should contact Eric. He'd be of use. And she needed to use every resource available.

She hadn't made contact with him, though. She'd simply turned up at the Blood Diamond in a slinky amethyst dress and high heels, her hair done up so her neck was at its most tempting. She'd turned away a few offers. The vamps had been lovely, but not who she was trolling for. She spent most of the night at the bar, her fae blood singing to the creatures around her.

As the night dragged on she became disheartened she wasn't going to make contact. She left her wine on the bar and stepped outside for a cigarette. She pulled her black velvet shawl around her shoulders, the skin tight dress doing nothing to keep her warm on this chill spring night. Out here in the dark she let her magic waft off her gently, perfuming the air like bait. Pip took a drag and kept a watchful eye out for the vampires that met her description of the brood she was looking for. As the night dragged on past midnight she started to lose hope.

She pulled out anothe rcigarette, but this time she fumbled her lighter and it clattered to the ground.

"Bollocks," she sighed, her sweet perfume all around her like night blooming jasmine and wisteria.

She bent gracefully in her cocktail dress to pick it up and saw the shoes of a person before her.

"Clumsy me," she said lightly. Then she looked up to meet those eyes. "Oh, hello."

(find her in the Blood Diamond or outside smoking. Open to everyone forever)
wispofathing: (Riding the night wind)
[personal profile] wispofathing
Curnen stood on the roof of her building. She probably wasn’t supposed to be up here, but it wasn’t like anybody particularly noticed or cared and not like she couldn’t evade notice anyway. Her eyes had fallen closed and she let her body sway and swing with the whims of the night wind.

It had been hard to notice it through the heartbreak, but once Curnen had forced herself to get back to work so she could do little things like make her part of the rent, she realized that something had changed. Something in her mind had cleared and sharpened since her father died. She started stringing together a little melody, one all her own. Lyrics, too, though they may not be for this particular piece had started to come as well. There was not a song, not just yet, but when she managed to discipline her unused muscle, there would be one. A dozen. More, maybe, in time.

Now she hummed, and the sound of her humming blended perfectly with the breeze. She lifted her arms and raised her dry eyes to the sky, singing up into the black. The nearly full moon peeked through the cloud cover, and she smiled.

Oh time makes men grow sad
And rivers change their ways
But the night wind and her riders
Will ever stay the same

And the next moment she was gone from that rooftop, flying high above London on Tufa wings.

They, like her creative muscles, were not up to full strength yet. So she landed from time to time to rest, and the wings disappeared as though they’d never been.

Though she had a few deliberate stops to make tonight as well. Look, look! she wanted to tell everyone she knew I can fly!

(And Curnen's got her wings back! If your character know she's fae and she knows where they live, she's stopping by at their window because she can. If they also fly, meet her in the air! Otherwise, she can literally appear anywhere. She's not stupid, though, if you're not one of those people you're probably not catching her with her wings out.)
wispofathing: (Black Eyes)
[personal profile] 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.

Debut - OTA

Feb. 1st, 2017 09:24 pm
high_voltage_magic: (pic#11015433)
[personal profile] 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."
harrowgate: by unopened (sparkle)
[personal profile] harrowgate
If there was one bar in the city where Felix was least likely to get in trouble, it was, ironically, the Blood Diamond. His usually vast array of potentially disastrous life choices was severely limited, surrounded as he was by vampires -- who, by their very nature, were entirely off-limits for him -- and the sorts of mortals who preferred this kind of atmosphere. Here, Felix could drink and dance and flirt, and remain largely confident that he wouldn't do anything to which Shannon might ultimately object.

What Felix did not do, no matter where he went, was blend in. He wore a black suit, but one subtly patterned in paisley, with a pink checked shirt and a scarf that stood out a little too loudly against it. When he shrugged off the jacket to dance, the colors clashed against his hair and tattoos, and Felix knew he could not possibly be ignored. He adored it.

Breathless after dancing, Felix draped against the bar, dangling a double bourbon on the rocks from one elegant hand, having waved off the offer of one of the signature cocktails from the bartender. He lounged as if he were the one holding court, and surveyed the room, with a tempting curve of his lips that invited approach... and hid the sharp diamond spikes behind his smile.

ota 👏

Jan. 17th, 2017 09:21 pm
pixiesweat: (angle face)
[personal profile] pixiesweat
It was a regular day for Manuel. In other words, he had nowhere to be, nothing to do, and no motivation to do anything other than wander around aimlessly.

The anniversary of his sister’s death had come and gone. The emotional turmoil had faded away, but he felt curiously flat, like it had taken the rest of his emotions with it.

He’d had a quick breakfast before he left his flat, but hadn’t even thought about eating anything since then. He didn’t know how long it had been. He wasn’t keeping track of time. He barely felt hungry, and more importantly, he didn’t care.

He walked around, considered stealing something from a convenience store he passed, just because he could, but there wasn’t anything appealing enough to be stolen even for no reason. Eventually he came to a bench, sat, and watched traffic passing by until it was making him feel irritable instead of just empty.

He stood, and that was when the lack of food finally caught up with him. The sudden change in position made his head swim, and he staggered just enough to put himself in the path of someone who’d been about to walk by.

“Sorry,” he said, once his head had cleared enough for him to realise what had happened.
winter_wisp: (wicked creature)
[personal profile] winter_wisp
It was his birthday. ...Not the exact date, but the time when things had aligned in a way that had made the pixie what he was. He was Winter, and so today was his day. Sure, he shared it with plenty of others, but that didn't make it any less his.

He'd never really celebrated it though, not since he'd been terribly small. ...Smaller than usual, that is. However, this year felt like the year, this was the right time, he could feel it in his bones. He needed to celebrate, and to throw the biggest party any pixie had ever thrown. From the tree-house and through the park, there were decorations no one could explain, and music coming from a band that always seemed to be 'just a bit that way' or 'just a ways over there', impossible to find, and yet somehow everywhere..

And then there were the special guests, his friends from back home, each had been sent an invite, along with just enough potion to help them pass for mortal for the day. Though how well they passed seem to vary. Many arrived in the clothes they always wore, dresses woven from petals, shirts made of leaves... Magic was everywhere, coaxing life from sleeping trees and leaving the weather in a tizzy, from warm, to snowy, then back again. It was an only barley controlled bit of chaos, but Winter didn't mind, he was surrounded by friends and had no reason to do anything but smile. 

(OTA, use this like any GP. Feel free to assume your pup was invited or are just happening upon the chaos. Also, feel free to have the pixie magic effect your pup or the world around them as you see fit, just remember it's mischievous and lighthearted, not dark or destructive.)


Nov. 28th, 2016 07:10 pm
wispofathing: (Introspective)
[personal profile] wispofathing
Curnen’s head felt tangled, and it almost seemed to her that her hair was all the harder to tame these days because of it. Ever since her disastrous phone call to Bliss where her elder sister had given her a blistering dressing down for the danger she could have brought to their people for her whimsical friendship of the Seelie prince. Curnen had assured her sister—and through her, Mandalay—that Willy meant her no harm, but by then a sister’s worry had overcome a regent’s duty and logic had left the conversation. There had been a lot of storm and stress that night.

And ever since then, Curnen had not known what to do with herself. She performed as she always had, but it rankled yet more and more that her few original songs remained lost to her, that her wings did not stir. So that day, after she finished her set she remained in the park for a long time, fiddling in the vain hope that perhaps something new might come to her fingers.

It wasn’t. It never was. She felt all too close to blowing away all over again.

And that was when she knew it was time to go see The Painting.

The Fairy Feller’s Master Stroke hung in the Tate Gallery, but Curnen knew that nobody else here knew it was but a copy of a copy, a shadow of a shadow, and the Tufa destiny in paint. It showed a man, his back to the viewer, holding an axe high over his head. Around him stood myriad fae in court finery, their faces stylized and a little frightening. The original painting, known to only a very few, lay in the small town of Cricket. In the basement of the Overbay house, in Bliss’s care, the original and mirror image of this existed in tapestry, showing Rockhouse’s face, his smug and prideful face in the moment before he’d ruined them all.

And through the stylization one might discern Curnen’s own face in the painted crowd. Might. She had not been there at this moment, she had not yet been born. And yet there she was.

She stared at it for a long time in contemplative silence, wondering what it meant. For her people. For herself.

((Run into Curnen in the park or in the museum, your choice.))


Nov. 20th, 2016 12:15 pm
pixiesweat: (hair behind ear)
[personal profile] pixiesweat
The Blood Diamond was a familiar place to Manuel by now. He’d gone to see Eric again, quiet and obedient as ever. If anyone had asked, he’d have said he wasn’t scared, but every vampire in the building could hear how fast his heart was beating. He’d gotten used to the glances he got from the other vampires, and he knew exactly what they meant. They wanted to eat him, too, but as long as he was under the Sheriff’s protection, they couldn’t.

Being fed of off didn’t hurt too much. He’d had worse. He tried not to hold his breath as Eric’s fangs punched through his skin. He knew he’d only have to put up with the sting of the holes in his neck for a little while, until Eric finished drinking and healed him. When the time came to swallow that little drop of Eric’s blood, the pain suddenly didn’t seem so bad anymore. He didn’t want to take it. But he did what was expected of him, and he did it without complaining.

The vampire blood took effect instantly. The pain disappeared and the bite marks healed over, replaced with fresh, unbroken skin. His fear was gone just as quickly. His misery and loneliness melted away in a second. Eric’s blood was the only thing in nearly two years that had made him feel happy.

The world was brighter and softer all at the same time, and happy was too small a word.

Eric told him he could crash on the couch, like usual, but this time Manuel headed out of the office and back through the bar, for no reason other than he really, really wanted to. It was a really nice bar. He watched the customers drinking and dancing for a while, then headed back out onto the street. The lights and sounds of passing cars immediately caught his attention, and he stepped towards the road. They looked even better up close. He kept moving forward, over the edge of the pavement until he was standing in the road, just to the side of the flow of traffic. To any sober person it was clearly not safe, but Manuel was completely content and relaxed, convinced he’d be able to move out of the way in time if any cars got too close.

He stood there, watching the different coloured lights sailing past and disappearing into the distance.

((Come stop him from getting run over :D Oh yeah, and if you have a pup who’d be plugged into the local vampire talk, feel free for them to have heard that there’s a golden-haired changeling teenager who’s under the protection of London’s vampire Sheriff.))
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!)


Jul. 18th, 2016 10:10 pm
winter_wisp: (Default)
[personal profile] winter_wisp
He knew he wasn't supposed to go out on his own, that he definitely wasn't to sneak out and not tell anyone where he was going... But he was restless, and everyone was so tense and unhappy at the flat. ...Besides, he knew how to be careful. He knew how to make himself very small and hide himself away. His kin couldn't babysit him forever, and eventually they'd have to trust him to be out on his own. So why wait? Why not just go out now?

The club was loud, louder than usual he thought, and though he spent a good portion of the night enjoying the thumping bass and the press of bodies as they moved together with the music, it did, eventually, get dull. It was too hot, too busy, and Winter slipped back out into the night, smiling as cool air hit his pale skin.

Looking down, he grinned as he admired the lights on his shoes. They were cool. He was cool. He knew this because people in the club had told him so.

"Yeah, I'm cool," the pixie said quietly, pulling the pack of cigarettes he'd pinched from Fin from his pocket and lighting one.

Looking terribly pleased with himself, he started off towards the next club, unaware he was being followed.
lcrpg_npc: (closeup)
[personal profile] lcrpg_npc
It was about to be quite a long stretch of rainy days in London, with only a few cloudy days sprinkled in between. Still, it took more than a little rain to slow down London, and the city was as busy and alive as ever.

Rain also wouldn't stop most of the events happening that coming weekend. From the pubs to the parks, from food festivals to public Wimbledon viewings, there was something happening on every corner.


Apr. 9th, 2016 11:14 am
winter_wisp: (b & w)
[personal profile] winter_wisp
"Why can't I go?" Winter asked, frowning and resisting the urge to stomp his foot as he watched Finlay fight with his tie and attempt to get his hair under control- Even though it seemed determined to curl up in loose waves in every which direction.

"Because, as I explained before, it's an event for adults. You'd stand out like a sore thumb, Winter," Fin sighed, glancing at the pixie as he spoke. "You wouldn't even enjoy it. It's going to be all classical music, and wine and cheese. You'd be bored instantly. Why don't you go out and do something fun, hmm?"

Winter scowled, glaring at the back of Fin's head. "I am an adult though. I am older than you, Finlay Alexander Flynn," the pixie reminded him coolly.

Fin took a deep breath, doing his best not to let that hot little spark in his gut get the best of him as he counted to ten before speaking. They'd been arguing about this for nearly an hour now, and honestly Fin was reaching his limit.

"Fine, legally you're an adult," Fin agreed. "But you look like you're barely of age, and you behave like a bloody child most of the time. You're an adult pixie, but we're not in Never Never Land, or wherever it is you hang out when you're not here. If you want to be treated like the adult you claim to be while walking among mortals, Winter Wisp, then you need to grow up and behave like one."

The little pixie looked furious. ...Or, well, as furious as a pixie could look. 

"That's racist," Winter declared. "I can't help that I am small and youthful!"

Fin sighed, rolling his eyes. "Winter, I really don't think you know what that word means, and as a tiny, little blonde white boy, I wouldn't go throwing it around like that. ...Why do you even want to come to this party? Truly, I ask you that in all seriousness. Is it just because I told you no? I don't believe you're actually keen to put a suit on and listen to Chopan."

Winter didn't honestly know what a Chopan was, and he scowled again. "Fine, you're right, I don't want to go. It's a stupid party, and I don't want to spend the night looking at your stupid, undead face anyway."

Fin rolled his eyes again, then shook his head. "Your pocket money is on the counter. Why don't you order a pizza and rent a game or something?" he suggested as gently as he could manage.

"No, I'm going out," Winter decided. "I'll go do something actually fun!"

Fin hummed a little, then nodded. "Take your phone with you then. No taking drinks from strangers, no getting in strange cars, and if you're out past midnight, check in. ...And remember what we talked about."

Winter was too huffy to think about what had happened in the past, or the talk Fin had had with him about how some people had bad intentions. So the pixie simply waved his phone in the man's face before grabbing his money and stomping out the door.

It was a slightly chilly night, and the pixie wished he'd thought to wear a coat as he went from one club to the next. The first place hadn't been too keen to let him in, claiming there wasn't a good 'man to woman ratio', whatever that meant. However, the next place had practically whisked him off the street, waving the cover charge as they ushered him inside.

Within minutes people were buying him drinks, which Winter was mindful enough to only take when they came directly from the barman. Though for all he avoided having anything nasty slipped into them, he still indulged in a few too many. Soon enough he was on the dance floor, where strangers were all too happy to touch and get close. Winter liked the attention, but he wasn't sure he liked the contact. It was so forward and familiar... It made him feel a bit like he was back in his cage.

At one point a man cornered him near the toilets, and though Winter flirted gamely, he didn't like the way the man took that as an invitation to touch him.

Outside on the street wasn't much better. The world seemed to tilt and wobble, and the pixie scowled at the pavement for daring to shift beneath his feet.

"Rude," he told it. "How am I to walk when you're wiggling?"

(OTA! Find Winter in the club or outside on the pavement.)


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.
londoncallingmods: (calling)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
As the city said goodbye to January, February rolled in quietly behind it. The weather remained mostly unchanged, though the streets seemed slightly emptier as the majority of tourists left. 

Still, there was no shortage of things to do this week, from a rare book event, to swing dance classes. There were also a few art exhibitions opening, and the usual events at the museums. Plenty of concerts and shows to see... Not to mention up and coming pubs, restaurants, and new and old cafes that seemed to always be alive.

There was no excuse to be bored in a city like this. No reason at all.

(Week long gp! Tag in, tag others, and check in daily to see who's joined in.)


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.
yves: (pensive)
[personal profile] yves
Yves was not a handsome man really, striking, perhaps, but not classically attractive. He was tall, with slightly sunken features and cheekbones that appeared sharp enough to slice open skin. His eyes were a mix of blue and green, like an artist's watercolours spilling over out of their pots, and his hair was- Well, his hair was curious indeed. Sometimes a soft dark brown, other times a shocking white. People asked him about it often, and Yves would only shrug.

"Does it matter?" he would ask. "Blonde, brunette, it's only hair..."

A little magic though, and anyone too curious would simply stop noticing it had changed.

Today it was brown, slightly slicked back as he stepped out of the hospital and pulled his coat tighter around himself before making his way down the street. He had a few things to do before he retired home for the evening, he intended to stop by the book store to pick up something new to read during his breaks, then his favourite take out for a meal, then the wine shop for, well, wine. Little luxuries, small treats to make the week less tedious.

He was just arriving at the bookshop when a beggar called out to him, small, slender- Old and yet ageless somehow. His shoulders hunching forward sharply as he pointed at Yves.

"I know you. I know you, butcher," he snarled.

Yves only raised a brow, pulling a five pound note from his pocket and enchanting it with a brush of his thumb.

"A butcher to some, a healer to most," he said as he pressed the charmed note into the beggar's palm. "I'm sorry, old friend, but I fear you know nothing."

The beggar looked frightened for a moment- then smiled as he looked at the note.

"A healer," the beggar agreed. "A hero."

"Not a hero, heroes live in myths, my friend. I exist right here."

He put his finger to his lips then, a silent gesture, then headed into the bookshop at last.

(OTA! Late tags and ST welcome! Check out the ooc post I put up here!)

ota c:

Jan. 2nd, 2016 01:08 pm
pixiesweat: (very angry)
[personal profile] pixiesweat
It was over a year now since his sister had died. Time had slowed right down and he had nothing to do but count the days as they dragged by. A year and one day, a year and two days, three, four... All the pain and anger that had settled a little over the last year was dredged back up, till he was filled with grief and rage so fierce he felt like he might choke on it.

He hadn’t been back to his flat for the past couple of days. Its warmth and tidiness had started to feel more and more wrong. There was plenty of space for him there, much more than he was used to, but he’d felt suddenly that he didn’t fit. Once it got to the point that he was about to start punching holes in the walls, he’d slammed the door behind himself and left.

People couldn’t stop celebrating. It had been Christmas, then the new year. Some of them couldn’t get over it and were still going. He couldn’t stand it. More than once he’d lost his cool and glared daggers at strangers who’d done nothing except be happy.

He ducked into an alleyway to hide when dawn came and killed his magic. He recast his human disguise as soon as he could, then fell asleep right there, slumped behind a dumpster that stank of rotting food. It was still day when he woke up. He didn’t know what time it was, and he didn’t care. His hair was tangled, he had dirt smudged on his face, and there was a tension in his shoulders and a blankness in his eyes that hadn’t been there a week ago. He stared into nothing for a moment, then got up and half walked, half staggered back onto the street. Quite possibly straight into somebody else’s path.


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