so_thoughtless: (hmmm)
[personal profile] 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!)
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.)
hollow_moon: (chest)
[personal profile] hollow_moon
The past few weeks had been a whirlwind. Ever since he'd met Jack it was as though everything had changed, like he had changed. Val was giving up his museum, joining Jack's team. ...He had even opened his home to the other man, and things between them were moving fast. Insanely fast, if he was honest. So insane that anytime he slowed down to think about it, he found himself slightly shocked by his own behaviour.

It was good though, he felt good. Maybe a change was exactly what he'd needed. Maybe a bit of insanity wasn't such a bad thing.

A side effect of not having the museum to run meant he had more free nights, and though he often spent them with Jack, or at Torchwood, he was also back into a familiar habit of dropping by his favourite private club to spend time with the lads. Tonight was one of those nights, and he was nursing a few fingers of scotch while cousin Denton chatted his ear off about some bird he fancied and they watched Teddy and Kelly play the worst game of snooker ever.

"You know, it is good to see you here on a Saturday, Valentine. You never come 'round on a Saturday," Denton said cheerfully.

Val had been watching Teddy awkwardly stretch across the table on tiptoes, cue behind his back as he lined up a shot that would never sink a single ball. "It's Friday, Denton," Val replied, glancing over and raising a brow.

"No, it's definitely Saturday," Denton assured him seriously. "I know, because on a Friday I take Aunt Millie down to visit Uncle Randal's grave. I did that yesterday. So, today is Saturday. Can't pull one on me, Valentine," he grinned, tapping his nose and then pointing at Val.

Val, however, wasn't smiling. "Shit," he muttered, pulling out his phone and checking the time. How had he missed a whole bloody day? It wasn't like him to make such a huge error, and he downed his scotch in one go as he tried not to think too much on how he'd gotten so careless. "Sorry, Dent, must be off," he said, not waiting for a goodbye before headed for the door.

His car was parked just outside, but he knew there was no way he'd get home before he changed. It just wouldn't be possible, and the last thing he wanted was to turn while driving. No, best to risk it on foot- That's what he decided as he briskly took off towards his home. Again, he wouldn't be there before he turned, but if he was careful... Maybe he could make it home unseen.

...He barely made it halfway, ducking into an alley just as the wolf began to overpower him. He had more control now, could change at will, but this was happening now, tonight. He couldn't fight a full moon.  The wolf was coming.

The last thing he remembered was a dark alley and loud voices. The wolf's memories were always blurry... But there had been a bang, and then pain, and when he'd opened his eyes again he could still see the moon above him. It was there now too, full and watching over him as he lay bare in the alley, his human form restored and blood swiftly exiting his body thanks to a bullet hole in his left side. This wasn't where he'd turned though, his clothes and phone were stashed a block away, where he'd hoped he might retrieve them tomorrow- But even if they'd been near, he wasn't sure he'd have had the strength to call for help. As it was, he could only just barely croak out a shout- A garbled word, desperate and breathless, lost to the cold air of the night.

(As noted in the title, this is actually timed to the night of the 11th, when the moon is full). I'm posting it early as I know a lot of people don't have time to tag during the weekend. OTA, LT/ST welcome.)

OTA

Jan. 26th, 2017 08:28 pm
hollow_moon: (deep thought)
[personal profile] hollow_moon
A good life, the sort that was truly lived, was often more a roller coaster than a gentle cruise. There were ups and there were downs, hills that either offered an exciting flutter or pure dread. Val was fairly certain he was perched atop one of those hills now, but he couldn't see through the fog well enough to know if he was in for a flutter or a full on fall. ...Hell, for all he knew, he'd run out of track.

Still, it was exciting. Exciting was good. It had been too long since he'd had a good thrill.

The doors of the museum were wide open, with signs outside encouraging people to come in and see the items that would be going up for auction soon. Yes, part of this drop involved shutting the doors to what had once been his pride and joy, and while some things had been passed onto other museums or tucked back into his personal collection, some things were simply being sold for charity. By the end of February he'd be leasing the property out, and he would, it seemed, be working for Jack Harkness.

Jack had come crashing into his life on New Years, and somehow one night of idiocy and pleasure had turned into a promise of adventure. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a real job- One where he wasn't his own boss and doing whatever he liked, that was. ...And he'd certainly never been offered on on the spot before. It was all so strange and exciting, and Val found himself itching to start anew. 

The items for sale were in the main room, but some of the exhibits remained open in the back, where Val was currently sorting through some items and packing them away in large crates. He was bent over, wrapping a large vase when he heard someone enter behind him, and he spoke without looking up from what he was doing.

"I know it says no flash photography, but it's all going away for a while. Take as many selfies as you like."

OTA

Jan. 26th, 2017 01:00 am
miss_ives: (caught at my own game)
[personal profile] miss_ives
In the new year, Vanessa had found that she could actually approach life as a whole with less gravitas than she had in the last few months. She had not seen Prometheus again since the evening at that occult museum (nor had she read in the papers about the theft of a vase from there, but she had not gone back since, and it simply might not have made it into the papers), but while she was no more protected than she had been before his gift of the talisman, at least her home was warded now, courtesy of Felix Harrowgate. That was a welcome luxury.

But even more surprisingly, Vanessa Ives was making plans. Plans that would take her far from everything she knew, if only for a fortnight. And in good company, at that. Her initial misgivings about Yves had eased with time, and she was glad of her spontaneous decision to ask him whether he would like to accompany her. A trip abroad, somewhere neither of them had any ties, might well be what they both needed.

She had finished her inventory of Prometheus's shop, for all that a lot of items in it were described rather than identified. She still opened up the shop some evenings, as well as on the weekends, when she could, but as the time for the trip came closer, she found herself distracted both at work and in the shop. Distracted, and in a surprisingly elated mood.

She was just cleaning some items in the shop when the door bell jangled from someone coming in, and rather than turn around to face them straight away, she glanced at a mirror to her side. Her eyes widened at the figure she saw in it, and she turned around in a start. "Mina!"

Here was her beloved Mina, pushing back the hood of her white coat, as beautiful as she had ever been. She even had a smile for Vanessa, and Vanessa did not know what to make of that. Why would Mina smile at her?

"I do not blame you," Mina said. Unlike Vanessa's usual visions, she stayed, and spoke to her. Could it truly be her? Could Mina have found her? Why? "Any blame has been washed away in your suffering."

"I do not deserve that," Vanessa answered, surprised at the steadiness of her own voice. "I cannot forgive myself."

"I am married now," Mina went on. "He's no soldier, but he is good to me. A lawyer. Jonathan."

"I am happy for you," Vanessa said, finding it to be true. Whatever had pushed her to seduce Mina's captain, it was nowhere to be seen now. She took a step closer, and then another, expecting Mina to vanish with proximity. Her visions of her never let her get close.

But here she still was. Was she real? Could this truly be her? Could it truly be Mina smiling at her now, sad though that smile was?

"Poor Peter," said Mina, and Vanessa frowned in remembrance. There had been three of them. She had loved him too. "If only you'd gone after him, that day, after you kissed him. If only you'd told him you loved him for his weakness..."

"How can you know that?" Vanessa asked, her frown more pronounced now, and a tightness in her chest that spoke of ill tidings.

Mina's eyes shifted, a red glow shining out, as her features darkened, and Vanessa could not move. "I know many things now. My Master has taught me them." There was a gust of wind through the shop, and then Mina's face was as beautiful as it had always been, even in her distress. "Things no one ought to know. Vanessa. Save me!"

Vanessa reached out to her, but the door to the shop had burst open, and she was too late, too slow to catch her friend's hand, and Mina was gone in an instant, in a scream, leaving Vanessa's breath short, reaching for someone who was not there, and terrified for her dearest friend.
goodfellow: (Default)
[personal profile] 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.
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.

Mini GP

Nov. 30th, 2016 07:41 pm
hollow_moon: (blue shade)
[personal profile] hollow_moon
It was that time of the year, a time that used to fill Valentine with joy. Christmas was so wonderful usually, after all, but not so much this year. He simply wasn't in the holiday spirit. However, he'd planned this charity event months ago, and there was no cancelling it now. 

It wasn't as flash as ones he'd held in prior years, his museum open to the public with collection buckets all over for people to give what they could to ensure a better holiday for those in need. Music filled the space, and there were performers all throughout the space. Yes, he'd had to up security for the evening to keep his many occult related items safe, but- Well, it was worth it, he supposed. If nothing else, it seemed to be enough to stop his mother from worrying so much about him for a bit.

All were welcome and admission was free. The bar was reasonably priced, and there were a few free nibbles donated by a local restaurant. All and all, not a bad night for the bored and the generously inclined.

(Use this like you'd use any GP! OTA)
hollow_moon: (cheeky)
[personal profile] hollow_moon
The night had started out so calm, so normal. ...Boring. After the super moon, everything felt boring. He'd been wound up enough post his little trip to Germany, where he'd spent weeks and weeks roaming the woods in his wolf form. Stalking prey, hunting wild things, and embracing his true self. This? This unnatural itch under his skin, this fire in his bones? That was just the icing on top.

The pub was quiet for a Saturday night, glasses draining at a steady pace while all eyes seemed fixed on the telly on the far wall.  ...All but Val's, anyway. 

Dark eyes scanned the bar, and the wolf snarled softly inside of him as he finished his drink and spoke up over the low hum of chatter.

"Turn this shit off, will you? My Nan can play better than any of those tossers, and she's been buried for a good thirteen years now," he said, that ever so slightly posh and crisp voice standing out like a sore thumb the dingy little pub. Several of the usuals glanced over in anger, but only one took the bait. 

"Why don't you shut your gob, you toffee nosed prick?" the man growled

Valentine grinned, a smile that was all teeth as he got to his feet and held out his hands wide on either side. ...As though he was welcoming what he knew was about to come with open arms.

"Oh? And what if I don't, mate?" he asked. "What are you going to do? Do you fancy a go? Oh, I'm sure you do. Look at you, old, fat, scruffy. When was the last time anyone gave a shit about you, hmm? When was the last time you had eyes on you like this?" he asked, gesturing around them and grinning again. 

The man got to his feet, and though he didn't quite match Valentine in height, he was broad and strong looking, despite an ample gut. "Keep running your mouth boy. Just keep at it," the man warned.

Flashing his teeth again, Val offered the man two fingers as he grinned even wider. "Or you'll what, dear?" he asked bluntly.

The man didn't answer though, he simply swung. Heavy knuckles hit his jaw, and though it hurt, Valentine's grin only grew as he swung back hard. Stools where knocked over, tables shoved back causing glasses to spill and bottles to hit the floor, shattering at their feet and crunching under Valentine's heavy leather boots as he fought back. swinging, grunting, taking his blows with as much grace as could be hoped for. He barely wavered, and he didn't stop until it all ended with a crunch as his forehead connected with the other man's nose, sending the large man to the floor.

"Anyone else?" he asked as the barman reached for the phone, stilling the man with a look as he pulled out his wallet and dropped an impressive wad of cash onto the bar. "Come on. I'm sure one of you wants a go. Do you even know who I am? I'm Valentine fucking Collingwood, and I'll take you all on. ...Every last one of you pox ridden, red faced twats."

(OTA Stop the fight, encourage the fight, join in the fight... Whatever you like.)
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)

OTA

Aug. 30th, 2016 05:32 pm
jageskro: (my long hair says fuck you)
[personal profile] jageskro
Sometimes, bar fights just didn't happen the way you wanted them to. As in, they were cut short before you got much more than a bruise and a cut on your cheekbone. Jag was pissed off as he stumbled away from the bar, holding a kleenex to his cheek. With his other hand, he was fishing his mobile out of his pocket. Who knew, maybe Coby would be in the mood for a little mutual pain tonight. Or even just a blowjob, Jag wasn't going to be picky.

He threw the kleenex in the gutter and scrolled through his contact list, but before he could find Coby, he found himself shoved up against a wall in the deserted street. By a woman. A really fucking strong woman, who licked his bleeding cheek before telling him, "You're delicious."

"And you've got weird kinks," he muttered, eyes flicking away from her and at the nervous-looking girl behind her.

"Are you sure you should be doing this?" the girl asked, switching from foot to foot. "The sheriff -"

"The sheriff isn't here," the woman cut her off, then grinned at Jag, baring bloody fangs.

Before he could think anything of it, pain lanced from his neck as she buried them there. "Fuck," he muttered, not exactly sounding as if he disliked getting his blood sucked out of him. Not as long as the pain of those fangs didn't go anywhere, anyway.

"Just, maybe don't kill him?"

The vampire pulled back from him with a roll of her eyes, still holding Jag against the wall. His neck was still hurting beautifully. "Of course I'm going to kill him. I'm tired of being on a leash. Do you want a drink, or not?"

Right, okay. Wonderful pain was one thing. Being drained dry, another. "No one's killing me," Jag muttered.

"Oh yeah?" The woman snorted. "The food thinks it's got a say in..."

She never finished her sentence, as Jag's fire washed over her. Jag expected it to hurt the fuck out of her, and make her back off. But apparently vampires were extremely flammable, because she caught on fire properly and was reduced to ashes within seconds.

"Fuck," Jag said again. He looked up at the girl vampire, who screamed and then ran off, faster than his eye could track. "Fuck," he repeated, and began to sag to the ground now that no one was holding him up against the wall.
lcrpg_npc: (night)
[personal profile] lcrpg_npc
While every week is a good week to love yourself and be proud, no week was better time to shout that pride from the rooftops than, well, London Pride. 

From Pride Ride, an epic group cycle through London, to parades, lunches, parties, massive club nights, and even comedy shows and concerts, there was no way anyone could be bored this week. There were ample opportunities to dress up in flashy clothes, reach out and meet other members of the LGBT community, and even just blow off some steam.

Some events of note to look forward to were the Natural History Museum June Lates, the already mentioned Pride RideSecret Soho Saucy Tours, and dozens of other events and fun times.

Something for everyone, and not  dull day in sight.

Debut EP

Jun. 16th, 2016 05:29 pm
leloupnoir: (Default)
[personal profile] leloupnoir
Akeem drank in moderation, and watched his diet. It was important, so that he might have enough energy in his everyday life. He allowed himself one main vice: he smoked. Had smoked since he was in his twenties, and the occasional cigarette bummed off a friend at a party had turned into a habit.

Today found him at a table outside a café as he finished reading the original version of The Mehlis Report, and he had rather been chain-smoking through it. He had closed the book after finishing it (an old-fashioned book, rather than those modern e-readers he would not use for the world) and asked the waiter for another coffee. He was still reflecting upon the book when it came, and after paying, he pulled a cigarette out of his pack, only to find that his lighter had decided to pass away.

"Excuse me," he leaned towards the next table, giving its occupant a polite smile. "You wouldn't happen to have a lighter I could borrow, would you?"
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.]
finlay_flynn: (pensive and beardy)
[personal profile] finlay_flynn
He'd been working on the book since just after he'd lost his vision, and after a few re-writes and a lot of changes in his life, it was finally finished, and there was finally a release date and cover art.  On May 17th Fin's book, The Rough Spark would be released, with a short book tour that would follow. 

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

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

(OTA. It's Fin's party, but treat it as you would any GP! Also, feel free to assume your pup received an invitation somehow, either via a friend or from fin himself.)
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.)
londoncallingmods: (calling)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
With cold weather rolling in and taking over, it seemed as though London was as eager as it could be to embrace the seasonal traditions of sharp blades on ice and food in faces.

Many ice rinks had opened this weekend, though Canary Wharf was by far the most impressive one. Large, beautiful, and not too busy if you came at the right time of day. Music played at a pleasant volume and the ice was littered with young and old, couples and singles, novices and show-offs... Anyone bold enough to strap on some skates.

Elsewhere in the city there was food to be found at the Foodies Festival. A place where you could find not just fine food, but also live-music, carollers, photo-booths and team quizzes.

It was a quiet way to start ringing in the holiday season- Or simply just enjoy the brisk weather that had crept in and was here to stay until spring.

(Gathering post! Set over the weekend, but open all week long to new top levels and tags. Tag in now and check back in often!)
londoncallingmods: (Default)
[personal profile] londoncallingmods
 The house doesn't exist, that's the first thing anyone who might find themselves inside it would want to know. Now, you might ask how one could find themselves inside something that doesn't exist, but you'd honestly be better off asking yourself how you could leave something that doesn't exist. After all, ideas and concepts can't be burnt or broken, and you can't breakdown a door that's not there- Or was there and then decided to be somewhere else for a while...
 
You wake in a house though, a house that doesn't exist. A house that defies the laws of reality. There are corridors that go on for days, rooms full of nightmares, and millions of doors that lead you anywhere but out. Trapped inside with you are dozens of other people, all searching for an exit, or an explanation.
 
Behind every door you'll find your darkest fears, maybe even memories you've tried to forget, or secrets you never wanted to share... 
 
(OTA! Here is your first of two Halloween gps! This one is, of course, set in the haunted house where your pup can run into anything you can dream up! Deadly traps! Spooky monsters! An existential crises! Top level your pups waking up or running into danger, and then go ahead and tag other players! Since this is all magic-y and spooky don't worry too much about time lines and who bumped into who first. Only rule is that your pup can't escape until November 1st! Have fun! 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.)

OTA

Oct. 13th, 2015 12:36 pm
hollow_moon: (blerp)
[personal profile] hollow_moon
He'd had all weekend to recover from his run in with Jag, and though he was still feeling slightly wounded, he'd made an effort to put all that unpleasantness behind him- Or, to at least make it look as though he had.

Monday had been spent inside, drinking far too much coffee and watching crap telly, but today he'd decided to pamper himself, just a bit. Yes, Val liked to play the part of the rebel or the black sheep, but deep down he did quite enjoy the finer things. Anyone who'd ever stepped foot in his home could tell you that. So today he'd had his hair trimmed, and his stubble groomed into something fashionable and deliberately scraggy. He'd bought a new winter coat, a new pair of jeans, and a striking pair of boots.

As a result he was terribly overdressed as he made his way to his local butcher, hoping to get something decadent for dinner.

Still, despite his fine clothes and the way he carried himself, there was a sadness lingering in Val's eyes. Even as he smiled and nodded at a few familiar faces, he seemed distant in a way he rarely was.

His phone chimed, and he pulled it out to find a text from one of his cousins.

Need to get away from Auntie Vera for a few days (weeks?). Thinking of going to Alpes. Lovely cabin there, lots of booze. You should come.

Usually Val would have declined, he couldn't just vanish on such short notice. He had commitments to keep and a museum to run after all. ...And yet he found himself tempted. It would be lovely to just vanish from London- To let the wolf run wild in the mountains, and to drown his sorrows in vintages from years he'd never lived through. ...It would be wonderful to not care.

Open

Oct. 9th, 2015 07:59 pm
jageskro: (Default)
[personal profile] jageskro
Fin had been right; getting out of the city for a few weeks had done Jag a world of good. He felt better for having been with the circus again, for Drina's food and Kennick's always eerily on point advice, for being on stage and letting loose, for the familiar companionship of life on the road. He had been tempted not to come back, but tempting though it was, in the end, he wouldn't have just left Emma in London.

So here he was, back in their squat. Ollie was the only one there, and too busy for company, so Jag got out of there and headed down the street to have a pint at the pub on the corner. He sent Emma a text, telling her he was back and at the pub, and was glad to find a free stool at the bar, smiling at the next person over as he claimed it.

Profile

londoncallingrpg: (Default)
London Calling RPG

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