londoncallingrpg | Entries tagged with vanessa ives

Vanessa had always had sharp instincts, and had long since learned to follow them. That night, as she walked home after dark, there was that odd pinprick on the back of her neck. Someone was watching. And as it lingered, she trusted that she wasn't simply being watched, but actually followed.

Her heart beat a little faster as she picked up the pace, cursing the fact that she was far from any busier street.

London, her home, the city she knew and loved, suddenly felt like a strange, dark, dangerous place. The lampposts felt less efficient than normal, and her steps on the pavement sounded louder than they ought to. She glanced back and saw three men a few yards behind her, hardly more than dark figures, doing nothing to hide themselves.

When she turned into the next street over and they were still following, her mind was made up. She stopped walking and turned around, a forbidding look on her pale features.

The three men slowed their steps but eventually came into clearer view, stopping a few feet from her. They were even paler than her, with sunken, abnormally clear eyes, and they felt wrong to her. Not, she reflected, unlike Mina had.

"What do you want with me?" she demanded.

They shared a look, and the one in the middle replied, "We don't want anything with you. We're not allowed. Our Master, however..."

Their Master. Mina had used that word as well. "Where is he?"

"Do you want to meet him?" the same one offered, stepping slowly nearer Vanessa.

((Feel free to stumble across Vanessa having a chat in a dark street with some vampires, Penny Dreadful style! They'll probably attack you if you try to jump in and get her away from them. Good times!))

pecked_by_birds

The past month- Months?- Had been strange. One night he'd found himself compelled to go out, as though something was calling to him. A silent siren song that had coaxed him into his car and out into the country.

Where had he gone? What had he done?

Those were the questions he had to ask himself when he woke up in the middle of Hyde park in a rumpled suit and a brand new body. ...Possibly brand new. Certainly new to him in that moment, since he couldn't recall much of anything from the past few weeks. His head was pounding, and he was in agony.

A large bird sat upon him. A hawk, he thought absently- Or maybe not. He couldn't seem to focus on it. Not when his gaze was so strongly drawn to all the blood. ...His blood.

"No," he said softly, trying to chase it away with a weak wave of his hand. "I'm free, you can't- He can't," he insisted, right before the world went dark. ...Not that it mattered. It would heal, he would heal. He always did. How else could the punishment continue?

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.

londoncallingmods

Fin and Will had rented out the entirety of the theatre where Fin had gotten his big break, then brought in staff to deck the pace out in holiday cheer. The centrepiece was a grand looking tree that stood centre stage, with a DJ set up to the left, and Santa to the right, who was taking photos and handing out this year's goodie bags. Some of the seating had been removed to make room for dancing and food, but the balcony remained as it always was, for people to rest and get a good view of the celebrations below.

No expense had been spared, but it was, overall, a causal affair. Those who weren't competing in the ugly jumper contest were asked to dress tidy, but comfortably, so they could enjoy the festivities of the evening. From the music and food, to the affordable bar and little area set up to fill out cards and make donations for the local children's hospital.

Invites had been sent to their friends and loved ones, and inside each invite they'd tucked a few more so their friends could invite their friends also.

All and all, it was set to be a wonderful night.

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.

yves

He didn't like to return to the Other Side, but now and then it couldn't be helped. Some things he required for his work could only be found there, and so he'd been off back home for what had been not terribly long here, but quite some time there.

It was good to be back in London though. ...Well, perhaps good was a bit much. It was preferable to home though.

It wasn't terribly cold tonight, just chilly, and Yves strolled down the road with his hands in his pockets, taking in the holiday lights and the crowds. Dreadful, all of it. Just herds of mortals looking for things to spend money on- Things that might make their brief and dreary lives slightly better. Though, to their credit, he supposed they did. Not for long, not in a way that lasted, but emptying their wallets seemed to amuse them for a while. Like a dog chasing after a ball, or a cat who'd just discovered nip. A brief little high that got them through the dregs of the year.

It was almost infectious, and for a moment, just a moment, he found himself outside a shop window, staring in. There were watches on display, dozens of them, along with silk ties and leather shoes. Pretty little baubles he didn't need. Tiny temptations that were usually little more to him than the odd armour he was forced to wear in this world. Here and now, however, they stopped being a necessity and became a desire.

How odd. Perhaps he'd been away too long.

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)

miss_ives

Ever since Halloween, Vanessa had been spending more time than usual in Prometheus's shop. She usually only opened it up a few hours during the weekend, for anyone to wander into, but these days she headed there straight from work. She had been making an inventory of the books and items inside it, since she had been unable to find one. Of course, many of the items were mysterious to her, so the making of that list was a long and arduous process, given how much research she sometimes had to do.

But she hoped that it would pay off, in the end. That she might be able to find something there to stand in the place of the talisman she had broken on Halloween, wielding the words of Verbis Diablo to destroy the creature that had been after Felix. She had written Prometheus, telling him the gist of what had happened (Felix's story was, after all, his own, and she did not even mention him by name) and asking whether he could think of anything else that might afford her the same protection the amulet had. But mail was a slow thing, and she had received no answer for now.

Nothing had happened yet, but without protection, something would, eventually. Vanessa could almost feel her demons slithering ever so much closer to her.

Right then, she was carefully leafing through an old tome full of esoteric drawings, trying to estimate its value - the sort of value that had nothing to do with pounds. She looked a little less together than usual, wisps of hair escaping her chignon, and the jacket of her pants suit folded on the back of a nearby chair. When the door opened, she looked up from the book she was perusing at the counter, wondering who the shop had drawn in this time.

yves

The fair haired sprite had been staring at him for nearly an hour now as Yves had made his way around the little shops. For all the creature had somehow enchanted itself to be of mortal height, there was no denying it was a pixie. Those pointy ears and sweet and spicy scent could be confused for nothing else.

Yves had ignored it at first, wandering through the early morning market and pretending not to notice the way it followed. Even allowing it to get close a few times before turning and staring directly into its pale blue eyes. Strange looking thing, all pale flesh and bone. Clearly underfed in its youth. Likely brittle boned, and unaware of it's poor immune system. Yves would have felt bad for it- If he was in the habit of feeling for lesser beings.

It had skittered off for a bit after that, but he'd spotted it once more when he'd stopped near the end of the market in a quieter area. They were practically alone, some grannies on a bench nearby so busy chatting that they hadn't even noticed they had company. The only people who might see them were those passing down the parallel street on the other side of the road- Though there view would be slightly obscured by the stalls and carts.

"The Unseelie Butcher," The pixie gasped, blue eyes going wide as they confirmed what he'd suspected all morning.

"Dreadful nickname, slanderous as well," Yves replied, sneering a little and removing the creature's charm with a wave of his hand.

Winter was so good at measuring and controlling his potion doses now that he rarely carried any with him, and the moment Yves waved his hand, the fair haired pixie knew he'd made a mistake. ...Perhaps several, if he was honest. Shrunk down to his normal size, Winter darted around in a panic, desperate not to be seen- Only to be snatched out of the air by Yves.

"Go home, pixie, and do not speak any of my names ever again," Yves warned, waiting until Winter nodded before letting him go and watching him zoom off as fast as his shimmering wings would take him.

(OTA- Tag Yves or Winter, only one or the other please! Catch Winter hiding and trying to make his way home, or Yves skulking off back home to his lab.)

pecked_by_birds

Honestly, he couldn't say why, but sometimes it wasn't the madness or the pain that drove Prometheus to travel. It was just a itch, a need he had to fulfil. Lately it had been clawing at him again, and though he'd done his best to put it off... New York was calling to him. He needed to go. He'd return to London, of course, he always did after all. Though to ensure he returned sooner rather than later this time, he'd hung a 'Help Wanted' sign in the window of his shop. With any luck he'd find someone to run it in his absence.

Soft music filled the shop, and as usual the titan was behind one of his canvases. Paint tinted the tips of his fingers and was splattered all over his jeans as he neared completion on his latest piece. He'd taken a sharp turn back into realism lately, and dark hues and clear lines presented an image of a ratty looking bookshop on a corner in New York.

(OTA! This is Prometheus' last post until he returns next year, so if you need a chat, now's the time. <3)

winter_wisp

Since deciding they needed their own place, it felt as though all Winter and Phouka had done was look at flats. Big flats, small flats, ugly flats, flashy flats... So many flats that Winter was fairly certain that if he never had to look at another 'recently renovated' bathroom again, he could die a happy pixie.

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

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

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

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

You're Invited To Our Home!
Time: 8:00
Place: The Largest Tree behind The Serpentine Gallery
Please Bring Gifts
Food And Drink Will Be Provided.

Brown Meg had prepared mountains of food, and Winter had gone out and bought as much booze and pop as he could carry. Music filled the tree, but outside it was silent. Winter realised belatedly that he should have mentioned on the invite that to enter the tree you only need to push against the trunk and a door would be revealed to those who were expected or welcome. ...But he was sure people could figure it out.

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

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.

drfeelbad

As a general rule, House tried very hard to ignore his birthday, and this year was no exception. Actually, he was even less inclined to celebrate considering that he was in a country that so far he hated along with most of the people in it. To be fair, it wasn't as if he'd liked the people in New Jersey either, but at least there were a handful that he tolerated. There were probably people to tolerate here, he just hadn't met them yet.

He also hadn't quite mastered the art of ordering delivery here. Chinese food he had managed (though it really wasn't the same). Prostitutes, that was something to be more cautious about. But it was his birthday, so he decided to window shop. Worst case, he'd get plastered and take a cab home, which also seemed like a reasonable way to spend the evening.

Thus, he was in a hotel bar. Drinking whiskey and water, and eating a bowl of pistachios. Looking very much alone, and pretty unapproachable, except for the sort of approaching he was hoping for. His cane was leaning against the bar by his stool, and when some asshole kicked it over he was almost relieved because one of the problems with this country was that there weren't enough assholes. Everyone was so damned polite.

But he still grumbled as he leaned over to grab it, and nearly fell off the stool in the process.

faizel

“It's too hard,” Winter whined, face planting into his notebook dramatically. They were currently sitting at a small table outside a cafe, but it seemed the fresh air wasn't enough to keep the pixie from getting twitchy.

This had been going on for the last ten minutes now, and while Faizel knew he was pushing the pixie by asking him to make it through two hours of tutoring, he also knew Winter had to learn to be still and focus for longer than only an hour at a time if he was to survive a mortal school.

This was, honestly, the exact opposite of what the wizard usually did, but he understood why he'd been asked. Winter needed a tutor who understood not only what he was, but why he was the way he was.

“It's not hard,” he said calmly. “You're bored, that's not the same as incapable.”

The pixie whined again, sitting back up and looking genuinely distraught. “We've been sitting at this table for days. ...Weeks. Definitely weeks,” Winter sulked.

Sighing, Faizel glanced at the time. Nearly 120 minutes on the dot. Winter had made it to 110 before his little melt down. That was forty whole minutes longer than last time.

“Alright, alright,” the wizard said softly. “No more maths today. How about I get us each another coffee and then I'll walk you home.”

Winter huffed, leaning back in his seat. “I don't need walking home,” he sighed. “Fae Finlay says I do, but-”

Faizel hushed him, frowning slightly. “Winter, you must stop calling people by what they are. I know it's ingrained, but you can not do that.” Though now really wasn't the time to scold the pixie he supposed, given that Winter looked about ready to explode if he didn't move around a bit. “It's just Willy and Fin, and I am just Faizel. Say it, just our names, and then you can go buy our coffee, and a sweet cake of some sort for having made it through such a long tutoring session.”

Winter squirmed, then sighed.

“Finlay, Willy, and Faizel,” he said calmly.

Faizel smiled and handed over a few notes. “Go on, get us each a coffee and a treat for yourself, then I'll walk you home.

Winter nodded, but the moment he was out of earshot, he just had to get it out of his system.

“Fae Finlay, Fae Willy, Fae Finlay and Willy,” he whispered to himself before getting on line.

(OTA, late tags v. welcome. Tag Faizel outside at the table, or Winter inside. Or, if you'd like them both, tag them both at the table after Winter returns. Though I will eventually send one of them off. XD)

pecked_by_birds

He had been back in London for seventy-three hours, twenty-six minutes, and fifteen, sixteen, seventeen... Seconds. He knew that for certain, and there was no need for clocks. No, Prometheus could feel the seconds ticking inside of him.

Twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine...

Upon his return home, he'd locked himself away in his flat, pulling out his paints and canvases and filling them with dark shadows and heavy lines. This form was not like the last he'd worn. It felt wrong and right all at once- It was all angles and odd lines, sharp bones and pale flesh, highlighted with ginger hair and pale green eyes- Eyes that weren't so different from other forms he'd worn.

However, when he closed these eyes he could hear waves crashing, and feel the weight of the chains that had once forced him to remain still and suffer. With his eyes shut, every moment that ticked by sent him spiralling deeper into the darkness he'd spent so long running from.

The titan's madness had known all kinds of forms. Sometimes quiet, sometimes loud- Often angry, but sometimes... Sometimes it was like a fog. That's how it was now, it seemed. In this form it didn't bring rage, only pain, moments of confusion, and a lingering sadness that weighed him down and made him wish for the one thing he would never have.

Eternal rest.

He couldn't stay in the flat forever though, and today he'd finally ventured out, daring to go shopping for supplies before finally returning to the small second hand shop he called his own. With no fanfare at all, he set about opening the shutters and flipping the sign from closed to open for the first time in months.

Inside the stock was mostly unchanged, the same paintings and books, the same oddities and trinkets. Some very old, some only from a few decades back. The difference this time being the man himself, his looks, and the way he loitered in his own shop. He didn't sit behind the counter reading now, that required a stillness he was struggling with today. Instead he stood with a paintbrush in hand, and a fresh canvas before him that he slowly began to mark in time to the drab, and slightly melancholy, sound of Radiohead.

He didn't look up when he heard someone come in, but he did point his brush at them.

"I know what you want, but do you?" he asked.

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.]

prince_of_nymphs

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.)

phouka

The first day of Spring had come and gone. The prince had left to the Seelie lands, but only for battle preparations. He was back with the full moon. Phouka had remained behind to see after Winter and Fin, though for them the days were much the same. In truth, Phouka was a bit bored. He longed for court intrigues and gossip. As a guard he'd never been a part of things, always on the outside, but he'd heard and he'd seen. Now he got his entertainment from the telly. He found it to be so contrived. It lacked fire. Passion.

And so with the prince back he had been given leave for the day. He immediately set out to find intrigues. He wandered the park, found a market, sat outside in the chilly air to sip a coffee and watch. Watch and see. Everywhere he looked he saw people with lovers, with friends. He didn't know their lives so some of the drama was lost. But at the cafe he found hope. On one side of him sat two women chatting incessantly about the one's disasterous love life. The friend concurred with the righteous anger over many, many men. On the other side sat a couple who, at first, were the picture of romance. But then he checked a text and the woman...well, she became a bit mad. Angry, yes, but Phouka thought she was absolutely nutters as she questioned him on who he was talking to, grilling him with such jealous fury the Phouka kept waiting for the man to leave. Watching them he saw what others might not see. The man was positively eating up her jealous outburst. It stroked his ego, clearly.

"Hmm." Just that. One small sound. And he sipped his coffee.

[Find him at the cafe or in the park, market, or on the street, wherever works best!]

winter_wisp

Death was a thing Winter had learned to accept at a very young age. Pixies, like all living things, eventually met the end of their lives. Some long, some short. Pixies didn't really age, and their lifetimes were limited only by the fates they met with, but death was inevitable- If a bit unpredictable.

So when Winter received a note that morning, passed through the mirror and left neatly on his pillow, telling of the passing of his dear friend Bluebell, he wasn't sure what to do. Part of him was angry- Angry that another of his kin had been killed in yet another fae battle. Part of him sorrowful that he'd never dance with dear Bluebell again. And part of him... Part of him was troubled.

Troubled by the memory of his parents, who he'd watched suffer in flames. Troubled by the memory of Aspid's death. ...And, of course, troubled by the knowledge that death would one day come for him also.

He'd spent the morning laying on the floor being sad, then lunch time hiding in his doll house, refusing to have his tea. By mid day he was in the park, sprawled out in the grass and surrounded by the stray cats he often fed and played with. ...The ones that weren't allowed in the flat any more.

"You're all going to die as well one day," he told them. "It'll probably be you first Mr. Nibbles, you're always diving in front of cars. They'll squish you, you know. Squish you flat."

The cat only meowed and swatted at his shoelace.

miss_ives

Ever since Halloween - or, more precisely, the very first seconds of November 1st - Vanessa hadn't been quite herself. These sorts of moods usually lasted a night, a day, two at most, but she had been off for a couple of weeks now. She felt perfectly all right, herself, but there was a streak of viciousness in her that was much closer to the surface than usual, and she spent most of her free time in bars and clubs, finding men to use and discard.

She'd barely touched the tarot since, despite the fact that her dreams plagued her with images she could never quite remember. And she remembered, all too well, the portrait of the man in the stone room. A Devil in his own right, but who was he? She remembered, too, the feel of the words she had flung at Mina. She was certain her dreams were full of her, but she ignored them. Something was changing, something was coming for her, something had started, and all she could do was try to rush towards it.

Friday night, she hit the streets dressed in a black dress which felt like an invitation to look, but not touch, not unless she allowed it. Her hair fell in loose waves on her shoulders and her make-up only made her already striking eyes pop all the more. She was perched on a pair of high heeled black velvet pumps she had no trouble walking in, and wrapped in a warm black coat to ward off the cold. In fact, given the monotone of her wardrobe and her natural colouring, the blue of her eyes and the red of her lipstick were the only spots of colour on her.

She walked down the streets as if daring anyone to stop her, hands in the pockets of her coat, watching the people she ran across in the street and looking at pubs and clubs, waiting for that feeling in her guts telling her to try this or that one. There was a self-confidence and an aura of uncompromising sexuality about her that tended to draw gazes to her, but hers passed on most people without pausing.

Feel free to run into her in the street, or at any pub/bar/club of your choosing. And if the character you're throwing at her is sensitive to supernatural happenings, let's chat ooc!

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London Calling RPG

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London Calling RPG

Entries tagged with vanessa ives

OTA

OTA

OTA

Christmas Party! (GP)

GP - dreaming of a black christmas

The Return of The Fae Doctor - OTA

Mini GP

OTA

OTA - Winter or Yves

New York I love You (But You're Bringing Me Down) - OTA

Gathering Post - Housewarming Party

Gathering Post 7/7 - 7/14

debut, open to all

OTA

The Titan Returns (ota)

Gathering Post

Party Hard (Gathering Post OTA)

OTA

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September 2017

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