londoncallingmods: (spoops)
[personal profile] 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.)
londoncallingmods: (calling)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
Lucky in love or not, London was a lovely place to find yourself on Valentine's Day. From romantic walks through various parks, to intimate dinners or shared deserts in the many restaurants and cafe's- There was something for everyone, because if wandering or dining wasn't for you, well, there were plenty of organised events to attend.

London couldn't claim to be the city of love, but it was certainly a city of possibilities.
lcrpg_npc: (night)
[personal profile] lcrpg_npc
The repurposed railway arches that housed Beagle's bar and restaurant were decked in shades of black: black christmas trees glittering with sparkly and satiny black ornaments, black wreaths with perfectly tied bows, black garlands draping along the walls and bar, ribbons edging the long banquet benches in the restaurant dining room. A gentle snow seemed to fall from the ceiling, a specially designed lighting effect much more pleasant than the cold and wet that would've accompanied real snow. Christmas music played over hidden speakers, setting the mood without interfering with conversation.

The Kraken Black Christmas feast was a different spin on the holiday than you'd find most places, and yet, a christmas feast all the same. All the flavors of the season were there, both in the bar's specialty cocktails and in the feast itself, served banquet-style to those fortunate enough to get tickets - mulled wine, egg nog, roasts and stuffing and puddings, and so much more. Yet the food and drinks all shared the same theme as the decor, shades of black augmented with squid ink, charcoal, or black sesame seeds.

Guests had been encouraged to continue the theme with black festive attire, but it wasn't required, and spots of color could be found here and there along the table or mingling in the bar. There was one thing everyone could agree on, though. No matter how black the theme, the mood was anything but dark.


Aug. 29th, 2016 04:10 pm
codenamemilady: (murderous)
[personal profile] codenamemilady
Milady had seen no reason to include Oliver's 'visit' in her weekly reports. It was personal matter, to her mind, and the DGSE needn't be involved. Unfortunately, Desrochers had found out about the encounter and didn't agree with her assessment. So Milady had been called back to Paris for two days of explaining herself and convincing those over Desrochers that her usefulness as Clarice Winters was in no way threatened by Oliver knowing she lived. She'd succeeded, of course.

After two days, she was sent back to London with orders to resume her life as Clarice, but with all long term missions on hold until she, Desrochers - ugh - and Paris were confident she could return to work. Milady didn't reach out to any of her, mostly unwitting, contacts, but accepted readily when they reached out to her, not wanting to raise suspicions. There were luncheons, of course, and invitations for drinks or dancing. And when she had no other plans, Milady went shopping or spent hours in a coffee shop with a book. Largely public, going about Clarice's life, and inwardly alternating between bored and seething.

Today was more of the same. Anita had insisted she come to lunch with some of 'their' friends. The food and wine had been excellent. The company meant when Milady begged off the rest of the afternoon with a headache, it wasn't a lie. Amazing how much better she felt once she was rid of them. Better enough for some shopping, wandering in and out of boutiques, picking up this or that on a whim, and always, keeping a discreet eye out for unwanted surveillance. The ubiquitous cameras, if anything, suited her purposes in being out.

Display buckets of cut flowers outside a florist shop caught her eye as she passed. Well, not exactly. It was the so faint scent of the forget-me-nots filling one of those buckets that made her stop. They were gathered in small posies, and Milady had picked one up, lifting it to inhale deeply before she realized what she was doing.

Don't be ridiculous, was her first thought.

Followed by, There's bound to be a camera. Which meant, if Oliver cared to look, he could see. Likely Desrochers as well.

Milady dropped the flowers back in the bucket and smoothed her hands over her dress as she turned to go. Two steps, and her heel caught in a crack on the pavement. She reached out, catching herself before she could fall, but the Louboutin wasn't as lucky, the heel twisting off the rest of the shoe with a crack. "Bloody-!"

[Afternoon, early evening – whatever works for you and yours. She's in a Mood, but it's not a bad time to meet her anyway.]


Aug. 3rd, 2016 02:30 am
codenameathos: (murderous intent (the milady look))
[personal profile] codenameathos
Oliver had waited until he had another day off to pour over the contents of the memory stick Victoria had given him. He had read every word of that file. Every mission she'd been on. Every death she was officially responsible for. Most of them aligned with British interests, but that wasn't the issue.

The issue was that this was Anne. His sweet, beautiful Anne, who had insisted that she had only been fighting off her brother. She was capable of these things, had probably always been capable of these things.

There was nothing on her recruitment, and he had no way of knowing when she had started for them. The file as it was started a little while after her 'death', but what did that mean?

He had waited until he had another day off, because after he was done reading, Oliver went out to the pub, a solitary figure huddling over ever-coming glasses of scotch at the counter. He only moved on when the bartender cut him off. A few pubs later, he was stumbling through the streets of London, until he found himself outside her house.

The address had been in her file, the house of late Lord Winter. He rang the bell and banged on her door, yelling for her to open - without ever using a name, what name was he supposed to use? - until he gave up hope and sagged against the wall beside her door, barely holding himself up in his drunkenness.

OOC: find him in the pub, on the streets, outside her door, as you prefer! From tipsy to next to blind drunk!
drfeelbad: (pic#10341491)
[personal profile] drfeelbad
There were a lot of things that House missed about his old life, and especially his old job. And he never thought that one of those would be the clinic, but somehow this one was even worse. Or maybe the real problem was that he couldn't get out of it nearly as easily as he'd been able to with Cuddy. He'd always been good at avoiding working clinic duty on the weekends, but not so here, at least not today...

On the bright side, at least it wasn't a holiday here. Though he was tempted to wish everyone a happy Independence Day weekend anyway. Nyah nyah we beat you.

In any case, unable to entirely avoid clinic duty all together, today he sat in a chair in one of the examination rooms playing a game on his phone and hoping that maybe no one would come to him. He'd sent a woman with a UTI out ten minutes ago and given her incorrect directions for where to check out, in hopes that the nurses would think she was still in here.

But of course it wouldn't last. He heard the door open and looked up with a long-suffering expression on his face.
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?
lcrpg_npc: (Default)
[personal profile] lcrpg_npc
The Queen's official birthday celebrations might wait for the better, brighter weather of June, instead of the actual date just passed, but there was no lack of things to do in London this week, even if it was cooler and damper than the week before. St. George's day festivities were scattered throughout the city, competing with celebrations of the four hundredth anniversary of Shakespeare's death. Getting around the city could be even more difficult than usual on Sunday, with multiple streets closed off for the London marathon.

There were exhibits - everything from graphic design to a survey of Sicilian history to the influence of underwear. And the same level of diversity could be found whether you were in the mood for music, theatre, good food, or late night fun. There was something for everyone, and no matter your plans - or lack of plans - you never quite knew what you were going to find, or who might find you.

[Week long gp! Tag in, tag others, and check in daily to see who's joined in.]
goodfellow: (chair)
[personal profile] goodfellow
One month ago, one of Soho's trendiest and yet least profitable dance clubs closed its doors. There were rumors for a while that the space was going to be turned into an upscaled gym, or perhaps gutted and chopped up into boutique shopping. But not much of anything seemed to be happening until just after Christmas, when the trucks were constantly parked by the service entrance and there seemed to be a flurry of activity.

Meanwhile, anyone who was anyone received a VIP invitation to the "pre-opening" of SATURNALIA, soon to be London's newest hot spot, but in the meantime hosting a huge party to ring in the new year. Togas optional but encouraged. Also receiving these invitations was anyone who even remotely knew Robin Goodfellow (or Rob Fellows), though his name wasn't on them.

The doors were also open to anyone, a line and bouncer required only because the space could only fit so many. But Robin had instructed the bouncer to be creative if not random with who he let in. As far as he was concerned, pulling in a street urchin or two over the hot starlets would not only improve the atmosphere but be good for business in the long run.

The doors opened at 9pm, and the place filled steadily as midnight approached. Inside, the club was clearly not finished, and there were many trappings from the previous space still in place - a large dance floor, several bars, private rooms, a couple of small stages for performances, an impressive elevated DJ table. For tonight, the theme was clearly one of the decadence of ancient Greek - decorations in gold and white and stone, replications (one would assume) of famous artwork of the time, including a number of statues. A copy of "David" cast in stone was a centerpiece, set up in an area that encouraged partygoers to take selfies.

The bars were not open, but prices were much cheaper than they should have been, coupled by the occasional appearance of Robin in his (somewhat skimpy) toga and gold-cast laureal wreath crown to hand out shots, mead, or wine to random partygoers. The point of the party was clearly not to make money but to build buzz, and from the length of the line outside after a couple of hours it was clearly working.
londoncallingmods: (Default)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
Halloween was as spooky or dull as you needed it to be in London. From handing out treats to those who came knocking, to attending costume parties and concerts all over the city, there was something for everyone tonight.
Plenty of bars and clubs were offering discounts to anyone bold enough to turn up in costume, and even the underground was bursting with holiday cheer as costumed commuters came and went, breaking up the dull day to day routine one usually faced while making your way from point a to point b.
Even those who chose to skip the costume were indulging in treats or maybe a creepy film or two.
There was no excuse to be bored. Not tonight. Not on Halloween.
(General Halloween GP for those who aren't keen on the haunted house! Feel free to post your pup anywhere in the city, from fancy dress parties to street corners. Go wild (or, you know, stay tame. Your call) Also, because there are two GPs going up this week, both are open to new top levels for two whole weeks! And, of course, you can keep tagging long after that if you want. :D I'll post reminders daily on slack.) 
the_bad_brother: (sweet face)
[personal profile] the_bad_brother
Damon had claimed he wanted some time away to clear his head, to get a fresh start, and it was actually true, but he’d chosen London as his destination for a reason he hadn’t shared with anyone. The memories he had of a strange, isolated world, the world of Darrow, were clearly his and his alone. Stefan, Elena, Caroline, Ric, they’d all looked at him like he was crazy when he asked them about it, and to be honest, he was starting to wonder if they were right.

He’d heard rumors of Rebekah in London, and since that was an ocean away from everything that had happened in Mystic Falls, he’d chosen to pursue her over Elijah in New Orleans. (Also, if Elijah did remember Darrow, Damon would want to punch him for what had happened there, and that could likely end up him being minus one heart. Since he didn’t have one to spare, Barbie Klaus was a better option to pursue. Rebekah could be cruel and petty, but that was a language Damon was fluent in, and much preferred to Elijah’s ruthless efficiency, especially covered over as it was with a veneer of gentlemanliness.)

He’d called ahead to the cleaning service that maintained his house there and let them know he was coming, and the place had been aired and prepared for his arrival. Now that he was settled and rested, it was time to start his search in earnest. And if he did find Rebekah, and she too had no idea what he was talking about, well...maybe he could find a vampire therapist. Or just accept that he was losing his shit and drink until he didn’t care anymore. That had always worked for him in the past.

He knew Rebekah’s tastes, and so he started working his way through the types of pubs she knew she would favor, showing barkeeps and patrons her photo and urging them to think hard about whether they’d seen her. Either she was compelling people to forget her or he was on the wrong trail, but London was big, and he was stubborn. He’d keep trying and exhaust all of his options before he moved on to other parts of Europe in his search.

[Damon Salvatore has arrived in London! Feel free to catch him in any upscalish pub or restaurant, or just run into him on the street.]


Sep. 21st, 2015 03:27 am
hardertohide: (frowny thoughtful)
[personal profile] hardertohide
A Google search on vampires was never going to be the answer to any of Dutch's questions, but a foray into the deep web, that was another story. Now she looked twice at the sellers offering up vampire blood on the Silk Road, rather than dismiss them as people preying on the credibility of weirdos. At the websites offering up a night with a vampire of your choice. At those advertising humans offering up their blood for money.

Chances were, some of them were fakes. Chances were, some of them weren't.

She'd come across the name of a club here in London, a name which kept popping up in her searches. The Blood Diamond. She headed there in a red tee, skinny jeans and her usual boots, with no plans to check her jacket in at the door. She'd taken a leaf out of Buffy's book and wore a silver cross pendant, just in case that shit worked, and the reason why there was no way she was leaving her jacket was that there was a stake in the inside pocket.

Hey, that arsehole the other night hadn't liked the threat of wood.

It was just her kind of club, when she was in the mood to lose herself somewhere, so it was a good thing she was there on a mission. The music was loud, and the crowd was a little wild and more than a little dark in a lot of ways. Out of paranoia, she ordered a bottled beer and kept her eyes on it after the bartender popped the cap, until it was in her hand. It was good beer, but her mind wasn't on that. She wandered around, smiled at people who smiled at her without ever being inviting about it, and generally checked the place out.

It didn't take her long to figure out that yes, this was a vampire club. And that yes, people were being drunk from. It also didn't take her long before she felt like she was being watched. Best not to overstay her welcome and take her leave before she ended up being dinner. The scar on her neck, mostly hidden by her hair, still itched as it finished healing. She abandoned her half drunk beer on a corner of the bar and headed back out into the night.

"Where you headed, love?" someone called after her as she hurried off. Male voice, young, Estuary accent. At least it wasn't the same vampire as last night, if it even was a vampire. Could also be a regular specimen of male idiot.

"People to see, places to be," she replied dismissively over her shoulder as she shrugged her jacket on, grateful for the feeling of the stake.

"C'mon, there's no rush," the bloke insisted, his voice coming closer. "Stay a while."

"I'm not interested," she told him dryly, glancing back at him. He looked young, too, but who knew. She really hoped he was just a regular specimen of male idiot.

"You can't know that yet," he insisted, flashing a charming smile at her as he fell in stride with her, typical can't-take-no-for-an-answer behaviour.

"I do," she insisted, and stopped walking. There weren't many passers-by here at this hour, but every one of them felt like a reason she was safe, right now. "Look, I'm not in the mood. Get lost."
londoncallingmods: (calling)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
Summer was coming to an end, and fall was slowly creeping in as the temperatures dropped and the store fronts down the high street started to change to muted and earthy colours.

Menus at restaurants were beginning to change, and school for many was already back in session. Though there were still people attempting to enjoy the last weeks of summer, despite the fact that the weather was already turning on them.

As always, there was plenty to do this weekend, and though tourist season was slowing down, the streets and the underground were as busy and bustling as ever.

(Though the GP takes place over the course of Sat & Sun, it is, as always, open for as long as people want to top level and tag in. Be sure to check back throughout the week to see who has tagged in!)
londoncallingmods: (calling)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
The best thing about London was that there was always something to do, no matter what your interests were. This weekend there was a jazz festival in Bloomsbury, an ale festival that would take you through a drunken train tour of the city, an African culture festival near Covent Garden, and several movie screenings, parties, and other pockets of fun.

Tourists were flooding in from all over, and many Londoners were slipping off to, or coming back from, their latest trips to Barcelona, Paris, or Ibiza. The weather was warm, and it had been fairly dry and sunny lately- Really, it was the perfect place to be right now. ...At least that's what anyone who wasn't heading off to some tropical wonderland would tell you at least.

As day faded into evening, bars came alive and shop windows lit up, inviting in tourists and locals alike. The city buzzed well into the night, calming only briefly in the morning, before bursting back into life again.

(Have your pup be anywhere in the city you like. This GP is intended to take place over the course of Sat and Sun, but will be open all week long! Remember to add your pup's tag after you tag in!)
londoncallingmods: (Default)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
The weather this weekend was cool and dry, perfect for the festivals that were going on outside the city, and the many events going on within the city itself. There were poetry readings and plays in the west end, an art crawl happing near one of the universities, and a free lecture series going on not far from that...

Bars had opened their outdoor seating areas, allowing people to smoke while they sipped a pint. Cafes overflowed with tourists and locals alike, sipping their teas and coffees as they enjoyed a lack of rain. snapping their selfies and texting their mates.

Shops were having side walk sales, from the high street to the small boutiques. Clothes and baubles hung on racks and displays, glittering in the sun and attracting the gaze of everyone who walked by.

There was life and colour everywhere, the grey of winter lifting and allowing London to shine for a little while.

(Gathering posts are open for several days, so be sure to check back often to see who else has tagged in. Set your top level anywhere in the city!)


Apr. 6th, 2015 12:58 pm
codenamearamis: (Messy hair)
[personal profile] codenamearamis
The bar was a small, hole in the wall kind of place, with brick walls accented by dark wood furniture, and red vinyl. A bar took up one wall, shelves of liquor lined up behind it, and tables and booths were splayed out in front of it. Beyond that, was a pool table, its felt top a faded green. A few people were playing on it now, finishing up a game as they talked and swigged beer.

Aramis sat at the bar, feet on one of the bar stool’s supports. He glanced to his left as a woman stepped up to the bar to order a drink, then took a sip of his own drink, a bourbon gone a bit watery from melting ice cubes.
londoncallingmods: (calling)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
 The evening was crisp as people flooded the West End for a night of fun. Restaurants and cafe's were full early and late, catering to the theater crowds that came for supper before their shows and dessert after. The theaters had various plays and musicals, many with big name stars- others with up-and-comers. The lights were bright and the atmosphere festive.
People wandered up and down the sidewalks and the traffic was thick. In the dark there were pickpockets but for the most part the crowds were safe.
It promised to be a good run for most of the shows if the atmosphere was any indication.
londoncallingmods: (calling)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
 It was a warmer night than one might expect in February, and there were plenty of people out and about, milling around at bars, shops, and cafes- All of which had signs offering deals and good times.

On street corners buskers posed as statues and played songs for change, filling the city with sound and life as people celebrated being a day closer to the weekend.

Tomorrow there might be rain, but tonight it was dry and pleasant enough, and it seemed as if everyone was taking advantage of the fair weather.
anamusebouche: (fallen angel)
[personal profile] anamusebouche
While December had been kind to the city, January had proven to be more fickle. Winter had shown its face, and while it was hardly the roughest ever seen, dark clouds, snow and wind had still dominated the scene.

February could bring anything, but it hardly mattered today. Today, London was bathing in the sun, bringing with it a sense of freshness, clarity and renewal. Spring, while far away meteorologically, was in the air.

It pleased the men and women in the market stalls, selling their wares in the open air. Spring meant happy customers and happy customers were buying customers.

((A generic market GP; tag in, tag all, tag whatever marketplace you like))
londoncallingmods: (calling)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
It was Christmas Eve in London, and all around the city people were out and about. Enjoying various parties, grabbing last minute gifts... Enjoying the lights and décor around the city. London was always beautiful, but in December it truly sparkled.

Outside shops, people collected toys and money for charities, hoping for last minute kindness from strangers to make the holiday even brighter for those in need. However, as the night fell, many shops shut early- While many bars and clubs did quite the opposite, opening their doors earlier and inviting people in.

All around there was bustle and lights, making the city appear even more alive than usual.

(Gathering post! Timed to Christmas Eve (day or night), but open all week long! Tag in, tag others, and check back often! Happy Holidays guys!)


londoncallingrpg: (Default)
London Calling RPG

September 2017

17181920 212223


RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Oct. 23rd, 2017 08:47 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios