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The Underground Mods ([personal profile] undergroundmods) wrote in [community profile] undergrounds2015-07-19 10:14 pm

[OPEN POST] The game is on

This event runs from 20th-25th July 2015.

Hello, Londoners! Bit hot, isn't it? Blimey, you might even get a tan at this rate, assuming you're not a vampire.

But there's no time to relax and enjoy the sunshine. No. This is the third and final week of the hunting season in the Other Realm and the magic of the hunt is about to bleed into all of London...

Basically, if you're a predatory type, your hunting instincts may be sharper than usual this week. By how much? Not a lot, we're not talking rabid wolves or losing self-control here, but conditions are perfect for hunting. You can feel it in the air. Hunters of all kinds can expect good fortune – yes, that includes humans who track down other supernatural species too.

As for everyone else... try not to be lunch. Welcome to London.

1) HUNGRY LIKE THE WOLF. Bare those fangs and sharpen those claws. You're feeling a little... peckish.

2) THE WHITE HART. The hunt for the legendary White Hart has begun. Fae hunting parties compete to pursue the beast, and upon its capture much merry-making ensues. Should a party pass through into the mortal realm during this hunt, they will appear as drunken louts searching for a pub.

3) HUNTING PARTY. No reason to let the fae have all the fun! Choose your quarry, gather your team and pursue your prey. This could be a serious hunt-to-kill party or something more light-hearted.

4) CAPTURE/KILL. The moment you've been waiting for. Your prey, cornered. Do you allow your instincts to take over and let rip?

5) I DIDN'T SIGN UP FOR THIS. I just got to London and now I'm being chased by a vicious pack of supernatural beings. FML.

6) CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE. What's the first thing you see when you set foot in London? Make up your own scenario here.
rules_winter: (large cloak)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-07-20 12:49 am (UTC)(link)
This paragraph precludes both 2a. and 4., 2b. takes place after both of the others back in the Other Realm.

Mab doesn't always join the Wild Hunt but when she does she has absolutely no issue enjoying herself. Fae hunts have so many powerful magical creatures they take on a magic of their own. They say you either run from the hunt or join it. But if you're running along with the terror of being chased by any manner of groups of high dangerous creatures, there is also a magical terror added that can drive even reasoning, thinking people and things to pure, unthinking animal reflex. Some of the less controlled fae can also become carried away, letting the hunt take them places they cannot handle. Many a minor fae has died flinging themselves headlong into the awaiting grasp of a stronger foe than they were prepared for. It also means that the hunt can slip between worlds without some of the hunters realizing it. The hunting party slips through a doorway between two trees and bursts out through a park in the mortal world, flickers of light and noise and beautiful or horrible creatures continue the chase across the well manicured lawns naturally glamored now as they pass mortal structures and escape out onto the streets of London.

2a. Her glamored gaze travels through the park, picking out faces, a slight frown on her own. Even the regular humans who might normally be caught speechless and in awe of such a sight have enough instinct to see they need to leave. Fast. People start moving quickly, scrambling to get as far away from the stream of fae as they can, even if they look more like crazy people on motorcycles. Mab tilts her head at a familiar face and turns her horse/bike to the side, foregoing the hunt for a moment to canter up alongside them. Her horse dances to a stop and she looks down, eyes still expressing excited hunger from the hunt. "It is, perhaps, not the best time to be out and about."

4. Mab follows along but is not oblivious to where she has ended up. Her eyes scan the park which is not completely empty but at least it is late at night, and fewer people will report such an odd hallucination or night terror. She swings her horse/bike out, hair and skirt pressed back by the wind of her passage like flags mingling with her white mare's own long tresses until nearly indistinguishable if one can see through the glamor, following a rider distracted by a new quarry. To the mortal eye she is in a charcoal grey suit, her hair still streaming behind as her bike rumbled smoothly underneath her. Is it just a regular human who couldn't possibly hope to escape? Or is it something perhaps more dangerous all together? Mab should really keep an eye on it anyway if they are to continue expanding into the human realm. No sense making that silly girl's worries a reality.

The hunt slipped back into the other realm and a flick of a tail is all that can be seen of the White Hart as the fae back in their normal forms continue to give chase. Mab's horse pulls up alongside another and she turns her head a little, inclining it in greeting. "Well met." She calls above the sounds of the hounds and the horses.

Wildcard got another idea? Throw it at me.


[personal profile] necromancynow 2015-07-20 04:51 am (UTC)(link)
Being as involved in the Underground as he was, Faust really had no excuse for being out and about during such a dangerous time of day. But he had long since stopped carrying about things like his own impending doom. It was like knowing you were going to die in a terrible accident; why worry about the details?

He wore a heavy, bulky overcoat and a hat that obscured most of his face. He lifted his face to look at Mab, however, as she approached. He smelled like grave dirt.

"Good evening."
rules_winter: (aren't you interesting)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-07-20 09:30 pm (UTC)(link)
The man she saw on the periphery of the hunt's path was completely covered and difficult to get a good impression of. As she closes in, the hunt calling loudly still nearby and another fae riding up alongside her, looking eager at the prospect of prey on the side, his own motorcycle revving loudly next to the quiet hum of her own. This new person moved like he was half dead already. But once the hunt started sometimes it was simply too overwhelming to the less experienced. They might tear into anything.

Once she was close enough to smell him she frowned. It wasn't the clean dirt smell of a garden this was something more rotted. A feeling of age to it. "Good evening." She replied, eyes narrowing a little. Perhaps he would make better prey than she'd initially assumed. What was he? It didn't really matter because the other fae was bearing down on him now just a few feet behind Mab and she felt him ready an arrow.

Flicking her fingers she knocked the bow up with a quick, cold breeze so the arrow would graze just above the mysterious man's head, possibly getting the hat if he wasn't careful.

"Good evening." She replied as the fae yanked his horse back with a curse, face still flushed with the excitement of the hunt.

((And this is where I realize I somehow edited out the part about her following another fae who might actually kill someone on selection 4 during one of my many revisions. I really need to step away from the computer and re-read before I post))

[personal profile] necromancynow 2015-07-20 09:42 pm (UTC)(link)
Faust didn't flinch. In fact, he didn't move, or even change expression. The arrow nicked the large white hat off his head, sending a spill of messy blond hair out over his face.

He had no real intention of running. This was one of his favorite parks, as a matter of fact -- not only for its natural beauty, but because it was adjacent to a cemetery, where he felt ever so at home.

"Oh... that's right. It's the hunt tonight, isn't it." Something rattled underneath his coat. Something scraped.

"Sometimes the days blur together..."
rules_winter: (buisness casual)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-07-21 02:31 am (UTC)(link)
This man did not look particularly... well, he brandished his sword and Mab turned her head a little, flicking her fingers again making ice shoot up the sword and encase his hand. "The hunt continues on without you." She says cooly to the fae.

The man didn't seem to have any self preservation instincts at all. Though he did seem to know of the hunt. She extends her senses and can feel magic hovering about him. Not the magic of life, but the magic of death. Which means she focuses on him again as he rattles whatever is making the coat so bulky.

What was this creature? The fae beside her did not take the hint and he swung his sword arm down, the ice shattering off the sword and smoking a little as he snarls and urges his steed on, the glamour sounding like a revving engine as the bike shoots forward his sword slashing out at the man.

[personal profile] necromancynow 2015-07-21 03:17 am (UTC)(link)
Faust's coat fell away, revealing the gleaming white bones of a fully articulated skeleton. It was tall and stood seemingly of its own will, brandishing a bladed weapon. It was almost completely pristine, save for the rather prominent hole drilled into its skull just above the brow ridge -- the souvenir from some terrible impact.

It moved forward with surprising speed and apparently took the fae by surprise, as the blade sliced through the attacker's throat and narrowly missed cutting right into his steed. The horse reared with a scream as the sizzle of flesh filled the air. A silver blade, which looked more like the blade of a meat cleaver than that of a glaive as it whickered through the air.

"Don't disturb my work," said Faust. "Please..." Beneath the coat, the skin of his torso was pale, save for the large patch of oddly tinted skin that ran across the front of his chest. There were stitching scars at the edges, as though it had been sewn on as part of a graft.
rules_winter: (considering your predicament)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-07-21 08:02 am (UTC)(link)
Well. That was unexpected. Mab watched the skeleton step out of that oversized coat and whip out a blade. A bizzare tableau indeed. And carrying the bane in fact. Prepared, this one. The fae fell backward off the horse as it reared, the bane taking any grace out of the recovery. He fell into a heap next to Mab and the woman just looked down at him impassively. This is why only the fae that could control themselves ought to join the hunt. Honestly.

Turning cool green eyes to the man her horse seemed to take after her, completely cool while the fae's horse paced around his charge, whickering nervously. Fire burned at the edges of the wound and the fae gurgled in his own blood.

"What work might that be?" Mab asked him, as though her brethren weren't laying beside her bleeding out. She really didn't have much patience for idiots.

[personal profile] necromancynow 2015-07-21 02:29 pm (UTC)(link)
"Research," said Faust. The skeleton returned to his side; he reached an arm around its shoulders and cradled its skull affectionately beneath the jawbone. "Very important research," he whispered, no longer talking to Mab.

He seemed to notice the other fae again. He should really help the man. He was a doctor, after all. "Will your companion be... reasonable? If I help him."
rules_winter: (down)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-07-22 04:23 am (UTC)(link)
The man was nothing if not purely odd. He held the skeleton like a parent. Or perhaps a lover?

Mab turned impassive eyes to her fallen comrade. "If he is not he will die. I cannot say." And clearly she didn't really care. She snapped her fingers and the other horse moved over to her, letting her touch it's shoulder and relaxing a little. She slid off her own horse and moved to the fallen fae, looking down at him with cold eyes. "If I am required to assist, I will own you, your life will be mine." And slowly she smiled down at him, something fearl and anticipatory in her expression that made the fae shy back even in his current pain. She turned her head a little to Faust but didn't let her eyes leave the fae. "You may try, he knows the consequences."

[personal profile] necromancynow 2015-07-22 04:35 am (UTC)(link)
The skeleton reached out and grabbed the fae's collar, hauling him through the dirt and grass after Faust as the doctor made his way with light step toward the cemetery. A clear night, a good night.

"Right there will be fine." The skeleton left the fae where he lay. Faust had redonned his lab coat. Now he bent over the fae and advanced his hands over the man's shoulders.

"Stay still, now." Faust's magic would help to staunch the flow of blood, but the process was clearly unpleasant. The fae convulsed as Faust laid hands on him; breath whistled fiercely through the hole in the man's throat. Certainly he would have screamed if his larynx had been intact.

"There, there," said Faust soothingly. "Don't worry. I'm a doctor."
rules_winter: (cape)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-07-22 05:00 pm (UTC)(link)
Mab was beyond curious now. The unceremonious dragging of the fae ended with the man covered in dirt and looking a bit worse for the wear. Faust hovered over him like death's angel, as the fae bowed up beneath him in agony.

Her eyes were intent, she examined the man at work, her horse left at the outskirts of the cemetery waiting patiently with the other fae's mount as well. She was curious to know what would happen more than anything else. And to see how the human's magic worked. The fae turned his head just a hair and his eyes looked at Mab in panic. Mab just watched serenely. "What will you do?" She asked the man.

[personal profile] necromancynow 2015-07-22 06:41 pm (UTC)(link)
"Just a bit of emergency treatment," said Faust. He muttered something under his breath. The man's bleeding began to taper off; the wound began to close. Apparently, the damage to his throat healed enough for him to start making sounds that were somewhere between a gurgle and a scream. After a moment or two, the fae's eyes simply rolled back in his head and his body was still.

But he was breathing, and should anyone bother to wipe away the clotted blood, they might even find new flesh grown underneath it -- pink and shiny. Of course, whether or not the wound would scar was another thing entirely. The man had tried to hunt him down like a dog, after all.

Faust stood, beaming. "There we are, good as new. Ready to maraud across the countryside, hunting down whatever the hell it is. Poor fellow."
rules_winter: (now you're just trying my patience)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-07-23 04:38 am (UTC)(link)
Well now, healing magic too. Interesting combination. Mab raised a brow at the 'poor fellow' mostly because she considered the fae particularly stupid. But he had the good grace to at least show her something interesting in the process of nearly killing himself. "You are a talented man." She offered. And she didn't mind that he looked odd, she worked with any number of monstrous creatures. A gaunt half dead looking human was really the tip of the weird iceberg for her.

With a gesture she imposed a glamour over the fallen fae so he looked like a pile of dirt. Because she certainly wasn't lugging him back up onto his horse. He could sit there until he woke up. And she certainly wasn't waiting for him. She barely even knew who he was.

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knightscode: Merlin did what (♠41)


[personal profile] knightscode 2015-07-23 03:25 pm (UTC)(link)
Lancelot is frozen as he watches Mab approach and look around, something in his senses screaming at him a warning. She can probably feel the fae power radiating off him, but Lancelot is not fae himself -- that much is clear.

He just feels like it, has been around the Seelie court long enough to absorb it. Enough that Mab herself pricks his senses in a familiar yet unfamiliar way. He remembers Pel closing the gate, remembers pressing up against a wall trying not to be seen, and all at once his memories try to drag together things he had long forgotten. Why would so many be here? Why at this time of year? What --

Then his eyes widen a touch, and Lancelot suddenly knows.

Unfortunately for him, the park isn't empty. Not only is the park not empty, but Lancelot is still in uniform. He still has to play the part of well-meaning Police Community Support officer. Even if both were not true, however, what could he do? He's barely processing the recent revelation that he's not an ordinary human.

He takes a slow step back, and settles for seeing if they all might just ride on by. There's a chance. Maybe.
Edited (clarification/typo) 2015-07-24 06:11 (UTC)
rules_winter: (search)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-07-24 06:48 am (UTC)(link)
The willowy fae in front of her veers off to the side and Mab's gaze sweeps in the same direction settling on a man in a police uniform. Which could be interesting considering the fae during the hunt tend to look like a motley biker gang. Although really what kind of gang member was she in slacks and a suit jacket? The one in front of her at least seems to be in leather. She frowns a little. Does that officer feel like seelie magic?

The officer isn't paying much mind to the fae high on the hunt which is dangerous, instead he seems focused on her. Perhaps he can feel the difference in power. Her cohort is already sliding his sword out of it's sheath, like an idiot. A police officer would have a gun. She kind of hopes the bullets aren't lead. A little iron would teach this idiot a lesson. The sword comes out looking to bystanders like a lead pipe and with a manic grin the fae swings it up for a killing strike.

Mab flicks her fingers cooling the air around them with such speed a fog starts coalescing at their feet, sliding out and up to make it harder for others to see what is happening. How are they supposed to garner support if the young and foolish go haring off trying to hunt police officers? Once she is close enough his magic feels... off. Like he's seelie adjacent. Not actually seelie. Hmm. She considered intervening but Mab was kind of a 'throw the kid in the water and see if they swim' person. In the middle of the lake. She was admittedly curious about the police officer. It wouldn't hurt to see how he handled things.
knightscode: Morgana does what? (♠51)

[personal profile] knightscode 2015-07-24 07:43 am (UTC)(link)
Lancelot suddenly snaps out of his trance as something is swung toward him, drops to dodge it and roll out of the way. His heart is pounding, and he feels all at once like a small prey animal surrounded by predators.

Worse still, he doesn't have a gun. He doesn't have anything but a notepad and a radio, and right now he fervently wishes he had taken the offer to transfer up to be a full officer rather than stay a community officer.

(Yet at the same time he doesn't, he likes being a community officer. He likes the way people talk to him, find him easier to approach. Easier to share their troubles with. Easier to describe bad experiences with and ask for help.)

(He just really wishes he had a gun right now.)

There's a split second of indecision, as he glances between the fae who swung at him and Mab, then he lunges while they still recover their stance -- grabs on the fae high and tries to pull him from his bike.

(Motorbike, horse, motorbike, horse, as soon as he touches him everything becomes uncertain. Biker leathers, riding clothes. The glamour becomes uncertain until he lets go, and Lancelot's head hurts even more).
rules_winter: (flirty)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-07-24 05:13 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, her information on law enforcement isn't precisely up to date. And that much is patently obvious when the police officer does not actually draw a weapon. Or even a club of his own.

Mab reigns her horse in and it prances a little before settling as she watches the unarmed man go head to head with the fae. And get the upper hand. Now wasn't that interesting. The Fae was so focused on his attack, being grabbed and yanked wasn't something he was mentally prepared to defend. He's quick enough to catch himself in a roll as Lancelot lets go looking disoriented.

The fae is back on his feet almost instantly, looking irritated. But he's had a chance to realize the quarry might be less prey than he'd anticipated and the high of the hunt though still high lessens a little. Mab flicks her fingers and ice shoots up his sword toward his hand freezing the blade quickly. "Come now, if you are going to attack, at least do so on even footing." She murmured. Not that she cared about fairness but she wanted to see what the man would do.

The fae released the blade in surprise and shot her a scathing look before realizing who it was who had done that to him. Something like worry crossed his features before he turned back to Lancelot.
knightscode: Back the fuck up (♠59)

[personal profile] knightscode 2015-07-25 05:23 pm (UTC)(link)
He swallows uneasily, taking a few steps back as the man recovers -- eyes flitting to Mab as she freezes the man's blade and he drops it.

This is... well, it could be worse. He has to remind himself, it could be worse. His fingers flex as he takes another step back. Lancelot might be strong and quick, a little bit stronger and quicker than most humans thanks to the fae magic still running through him, but he can't exactly freeze weapons with a snap of his fingers.

If one of them tries that on him, there's nothing he can do about it.

His best chance, he thinks, is probably to try and lead them away from where anyone else might be. Perhaps hope he knows the area better. Perhaps hope he can trip one of them and smack them over the head and leave them unconscious.

Lancelot flexes his fingers again, offers a wry smile. Confidence, now, at least pretend you know what you're doing.

"You'll have to do better than that," he taunts, and begins mentally calculating a route through the woods just behind them.
rules_winter: (considering your predicament)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-07-25 11:23 pm (UTC)(link)
Apparently the fae was finally having second thoughts about picking a fight. It wasn't ever really good to catch the attention of the fae higher up than you. But then again, it was even worse to disappoint them. So he looked back at Lancelot and grit his teeth, lifting up on the balls of his feet twice before darting forward to swing a fist at the man.

Mab, watched Lancelot look between them with trepidation before coming to some sort of decision. The smile wipes away any concern he showed before and she smiles slowly as he paints confidence back across his face. That's very nice.

As the other fae launches his attack, Mab simply sits atop her mount waiting to see how Lancelot fights. If she's to be distracted by the hunt at least she gets some entertainment.
knightscode: This is my dramatic pose (♠48)

[personal profile] knightscode 2015-07-26 01:55 am (UTC)(link)
Lancelot dodges back a step closer to the woods, nearly loses his footing for a second before snapping out a hand to try and grab the fae's arm, to try and twist it violently behind his back. He isn't armed, not now, which is good -- but Lancelot is still clearly a community police officer to anyone who spots them. If he can pin the fae he can fake an arrest, perhaps he doesn't need to run at all?

If he fails, that's it -- he isn't risking an altercation out here. He's darting into the woods as soon as he can. Their audience can come or not come, he isn't worried -- Mab seems to be enjoying herself, after all. So long as she doesn't start working against him instead of helping Lancelot isn't bothered either way.
rules_winter: (aren't you interesting)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-07-26 04:59 am (UTC)(link)
He's quick. Not really fae quick but quick enough. The fae, still looking put out about having Mab watching and, in a manner, referring his fight, feels his arm caught and yanked back before he can twist out of the grip. But instead of letting the arm get yanked up too far he twists with it and spins in to jab a knee up at Lancelot's side.

The woods are close in behind him and Mab is quite aware of that route of escape. If the young sidhe keeps Lancelot close it will be hard to get away right off, but Lancelot seems to be smart, he might be able to find a way out of the other man's grip. Running is perhaps, not the best choice on the night of the hunt. Some things have difficulty not giving chase on such nights.
knightscode: Back the fuck up (♠59)

[personal profile] knightscode 2015-07-26 02:00 pm (UTC)(link)
He grunts as the fae twists with him and knees him (that hurts) and he stumbles back a step -- keeps his grip and tries to shift his weight to haul the way around and hurl him away toward the woods. Come on, he thinks fiercely this way, come on, come with me. The fog might be masking things but people are going to get curious about the noise and the mysterious fog itself. He wants a tree to smack this guy into until he passes out. He wants this over with before more police get called. Nothing good will come of police trying to arrest fae folk. Running might not be wise, but Lancelot isn't worried about himself anyway -- he's worried about everyone else.

(Which is equally not wise).
Edited 2015-07-26 14:01 (UTC)
rules_winter: (cape)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-07-26 07:23 pm (UTC)(link)
The fae, with one leg still falling to the ground cannot completely count on his fae balance with a man with more weight than he is yanking him in another direction. Mab's smile is almost hungry as Lancelot manages to throw the fae in the direction of the forest, and the fae stumbles forward, trying to regain his footing and get his hand away at the same time. So long as Lancelot keeps contact with him he can't veil to hide. Predators don't much like fighting on equal footing.

It takes him several steps closer to the forest and then another one as he tries to pull away from Lancelot looking frustrated, the trees rising up around him. The fingers of his other hand curl into a claw and he slaps his had out at Lancelot's face.
knightscode: Back the fuck up (♠59)

[personal profile] knightscode 2015-07-28 12:16 pm (UTC)(link)
Lancelot inhales sharply, tries to turn his head away as the fae lashes out but ends up with scratches across his face anyway. They burn, and he can feel blood welling up in them, but it doesn't matter. He can deal with a few scratches.

Hanging on is the only advantage he has. He may be a human, but Seelie magic still renders him faster and stronger than he should be. Maybe not as light and quick as a fae, but it can be enough. He doesn't let go, keeps hauling around to try and shove the fae up against a tree -- eyes flitting between the one he has and Mab still. He doesn't trust her, doesn't trust the hungry way she watches him. Doesn't trust the way she's almost helping him. Why would she? Fae do nothing for free, and the last thing he needs is to end up owing favours to a fae.
rules_winter: (down)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-07-28 04:54 pm (UTC)(link)
She can almost smell his blood on the wind, it was a good attempt to get loose by the fae who was finding his prey much less agreeable now that they were both unarmed. He fetched up against the tree with a jarring impact, of his shoulder and snarled twisting like an eel in Lancelot's grip. Finally, stuck between a rock an a hard place the fae grits his teeth. He doesn't talk to Lancelot though, his words are for Mab. "I grew carried away." It sounds sulky. "My apologies, Lady, for deviating from the hunt. I am bested." And if it sounded like saying so disgusted him a little it was probably because it did.

Mab's face had gone impassive as soon as the Fae had drooped in Lancelot's grip. Now her horse stepped forward a few steps so that she was looking down at the Fae. "The mortal lawman has the right to see you put in an iron cage." And that would be slow death for a fae. Mab lifted her eyes to Lancelot and tilted her head a little. The distrust in Lancelot eyes was all but palpable. The fae in his hands started to look distinctly worried. "What say you, constable?"

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