longterm: (Default)
[personal profile] longterm
Cesare Borgia thought that Nancy and he were getting along well. In fact, he thought they were getting along very well indeed. They had shared drinks at this point, joked about the failures of their past lovers and even sassed about each other's prowess on occasion. Overall, things were going great.

So Cesare is....surprised when Nancy comes storming into his office with a look on her face that tells him nothing good is going to come of this.

"Please, Nancy. I'm in a meeting..." he says, sitting at his desk, gesturing at the young, beautiful woman opposite him. It's an excuse though. Quite frankly, he has no interest in the conversation that Nancy is about to throw at him, even if he has no idea just yet what it's actually going to be about.

(It's become gently NSFW in this thread btw with mentions of sex.)
outstandingbalance: by easycompany (pic#10582597)
[personal profile] outstandingbalance
Following This Thread

It's almost morning when Natasha shows up at Evie's doorstep. She looks good, her color better than anyone in in London would have ever seen. There's more energy in her step, in her stance. Subtly, more confidence. She feels better too, at least physically. It's been well over a year since she wasn't on the edge of starvation, and if she'd ever managed to convince herself that it wasn't so bad, that illusion is thoroughly dispelled now.

Emotionally... she's still sorting that out. Maybe that's why she came here instead of going home.

She can't escape the suspicion that Evie will know what she did the moment she opens the door. And for good reason. The clues are all there—and Natasha didn't pick herself a stupid woman.
dirtyredneck: (OOC RAWR)
[personal profile] dirtyredneck
There was once a Countryman who possessed the most wonderful Goose you can imagine, for every day when he visited the nest, the Goose had laid a beautiful, glittering, golden egg.

The Countryman took the eggs to market and soon began to get rich. But it was not long before he grew impatient with the Goose because she gave him only a single golden egg a day. He was not getting rich fast enough.

Then one day, after he had finished counting his money, the idea came to him that he could get all the golden eggs at once by killing the Goose and cutting it open. But when the deed was done, not a single golden egg did he find, and his precious Goose was dead.

-The Goose and the Golden Egg, Aesop's Fables
dirtyredneck: (Angry (14))
[personal profile] dirtyredneck
Daryl wasn't happy to be doing this, but in terms of property matters, he had little recourse. He could keep Daybreak out of the center so long as they insisted on breaking Hillingdon laws. Once they stopped - and they had to stop if they wanted to be seen as doing things the proper way - he had no legal recourse for continuing to keep them out of the building. It wasn't like Hillingdon had the means to get away with occupying it.

Shame that a fire hadn't broken out at some point, too.

He sat on the steps outside the main doors in much the same manner as the day he'd forced Daybreak to retreat. Local stray cats gathered around him to both keep him company and to help him if the negotiations went bad. Daybreak had broached the topic of the center being returned to them as soon as the law was voted through. Trying to salvage something out of it, no doubt. Getting the Center back would feel like a win, however Pyrrhic.

So he was there, as the one that had led the take over, to be the one to return the Center to Daybreak's control.
fungi_notpunny: Not mine (Daydream/look away)
[personal profile] fungi_notpunny
Open prompt; June 15th, border of Hounslow and Ealing
Luckily for Ellie, her school was safely located in eastern Hounslow, and her home not far from there. It's not werewolf territory, but it's not territory where anyone will try to kill her or anything like that, according to her various pack members.

However, it was far enough away from the den that it made trips to and from a pain in the ass, particularly because she had to skirt around vampire territory to get there.

Still, Ellie was celebrating her last day of school by...not being in school. At about nine in the morning, she managed to slip away from the building and was walking down the street, backpack slung over her shoulders and headphones in place. She was trying to hum the guitar riffs, which didn't work out so well, but it was kind of fun in its own way. The only problem was that she wasn't really paying attention to the area around her. That made it easy to stumble into someone.

[OOC: Prompts for specific characters to follow, and if you want to leave your own prompt that's fine too!]
injectablefame: ([hollowedcrown]007)
[personal profile] injectablefame
In the last week, Party's does his job to set up a truly momentous party thrown by an anonymous organizer. To some he's admitted that he knows the organizer, to others he's only said that he'd heard of the party second or third hand, but those that know him best could probably tell whose handiwork is behind this. The fliers are artless and plain and they're everywhere in the days leading up to it, or at least everywhere Party can reasonably get them without getting police attention that would shut it down before it even starts.

It starts small and slow, a few high kids playing music on their cell phones and dancing, but it grows from there, a few DJs with small and portable setups and broken bottles in the street. Central to the whole affair is the Magical Innovation Centre, but it spreads out from there, disturbing the nearby neighborhood and hiding seedy activities with only minimal effort. At some point, there's even a series of wolf howls that seem to echo through the streets.

It's only a few hours from its small beginnings before it's broken up by the cops, but with no ringleader known, only interspersed random arrests are made. There just aren't enough police to get everyone.

(OOC: Party post! Post top levels, tag around and have fun!)
specifiercity: (Default)
[personal profile] specifiercity
[a catchall for june; prompts will be added to the top post as I write them!]

open to hillingdon & visitors )

for eames )

for jean-claude )
redshoerevenge: (forty nine)
[personal profile] redshoerevenge
WHO: Mako & YOU
WHAT: Mako does stuff everywhere 
WHERE: Everywhere; Hillingdon, near East End, etc etc
WHEN: June! 
NOTES:  Wanted: Full Moon Woofs, Shifters, Fae, um...witches...no.  Everyone.

I see you... )
knowntohisfriends: (amused)
[personal profile] knowntohisfriends
[The Artful Dodger can be found anywhere about London during the course of a full month. Anywhere there's a crowd, there's work to be done, and if you know the hat, you'll be able to spot him easily. Or if you want to be spotted... well, he's always paying attention]
outofthemanor: (Default)
[personal profile] outofthemanor
1. At Work
The bookshop that Wednesday works in is not so much as shop as it is a storage place for the owner's rather extensive collection of books. Since said owner is rather loathe to part with any of his precious collection, having Wednesday as a member of staff works quite well, as for some odd reason people are rather reluctant to make a purchase from her. So instead, she works on arranging the shelves, keeping them in good order and adding new items as and when they arrive.

Today, she is concentrating on the occult section, idly leafing through one of the books she is trying to arrange. The information isn't half bad - the author actually seemed to understand what it was they were talking about and she would smile if that was something she did. A ring of a bell drew her attention - the door had been opened.

"Do you require assistance?"


2. Market Time
It's her day off, and this is really one of the first times Wednesday has been able to look at some of the many markets London has to offer. She doubts that the mystic stall she passed has anything of real value, but there are some things that could possibly be used. The antiques interest her a little more, though sadly there's no weaponry. She hadn't been able to bring some of her favourites from the manor because of airport security rules and she found she was missing them. She'd need to see about finding a proper smith.

Still, it is rather fun, to wander about the market with no real purpose in mind. Even if people do keep muttering 'goth' when they see her dark parasol. She's going to curse the next person who says that.


3. Night Walk
London is at it's best at night, Wednesday believes. There's a hum from the city - ambitions, hopes, dreams, fears, and nightmares - that anyone could feel and at night it seems to be amplified. She strolls easily down a darkened street, not particularly bothered that the street lights aren't at their best. There's a pleasant chill in the air and it reaches the bones in such a comforting way. The sound of footsteps behind her isn't anything, either. They were just footsteps, after all.

"Are you following me, or are we merely headed in the same direction?"

Until they were introduced, that was.
stauncherhearted: (illuminated)
[personal profile] stauncherhearted
[Here we go again, new month, same ladies. A few starters in the comments, hmu for something specific. I just want a place to put stuff. Carry on!]
baisant: (7)
[personal profile] baisant
The invitations go out a week in advance. Some of which are hand written (ink on parchment, of course), to those of whom he wishes to see personally, though of course they are welcome to bring guests. The more the merrier, or so the saying goes. Especially in the case of such an event as this. Jean-Claude is vying for the spot of President of the Night Council, after all, and while the event is not technically connected to the election, timing is everything, mes amis. And what an event it is.

The instructions on the invitation are quite simple. There is to be a ball. But not just any ball, a Vampire Ball. If you are a vampire, an ally, or interested in becoming both, you are more than welcome to attend. It is a night to celebrate the collective history of the Nest of London. Formal historical costume is a requirement of attendance. Masks will be allowed as well, though the event is technically not a masquerade. All wood and silver will be checked at the door, for this is a night of entertainment.



The event is being held in a private historic home, presumably for the atmosphere. In the foyer there is a coat check (along with wood and silver check, courtesy of Guilty Pleasure's well-loved bouncers). The guests are funneled through from there into the main ballroom, where yes, there is a live string quartet playing. How did Jean-Claude afford such decadence? It helps when you have lived for so long as he has and have had very little to spend money on besides clothes and decadence. It certainly couldn't be his own private residence -- could it?

Off to the side of the ballroom is an array of chaise lounges and other sofas and chairs, while on the other may be located several tables of refreshments. It is clearly indicated which table is intended for the vampires and which is for those who are still among the living. There is another bouncer posted on watch over the refreshments, and the punch in particular -- they need not have a repeat of the last time someone spiked their drinks in such a fashion after all. There is quite a selection of finger foods on the table for those who are so inclined to partake in such delicacies, and there are offers of champagne, wine, and punch for that table. There are finger foods on the other table as well, although not as many, and each one has an accompanying card indicating the donor's name and blood type, just in case you were wondering why they were for the vampires.

The house is of course bigger than the ballroom and the foyer, but few guests are allowed to venture up the front stairs or beyond the little hall to where the restrooms are located. That does not mean, of course, that there are not those who manage to sneak past the little corded ropes meant to keep such troublemakers within check, especially when the bouncers are otherwise preoccupied. There are all sorts of fun rooms to explore.

And so many costumes from so many eras! Guests are encouraged to talk amongst themselves and share memories of the good old days for those lived through them, or ask questions if there are curiosities from those who did not. Today is a golden age, Islington Nest is at its strongest yet, and it is a time to celebrate what it is to be Vampire. There is more to such a life than drinking blood and having fangs, a sophistication and experience beyond the hunger. If nothing else, Jean-Claude hopes to share this with the attendees on this evening.

Which at least manages to begin without a hitch, but if you should manage to stay for the end of the night, prepare for some fireworks to ensue. For what is a party without a little drama...


(ooc note: anyone is welcome to attend, though if you are anti-islington you will not get very far in the door before being turned away. certain allies/those who have helped jean-claude in the past will have received direct invitations, but there is a general buzz passed around the nest and islington allies ahead of time that will have spread through the supernatural community leading up to the day itself. as stated above, historical costume is a must -- vampires are encouraged to wear something from an era they lived through, though humans are welcome to whatever they desire! masks are fun so wear one if you like though there will be no anonymity here.

details will be in jean-claude's comment below, but his ex, asher, is going to be crashing the party at the end of the night, so if you're there for the end of the evening expect that as well. i will make a comment for asher as well on his own so you can tag with him before the main event if you decide you'd like to skip out on the fireworks as he and jean-claude butt heads for the first time in hundreds of years.)
stauncherhearted: (I like this job only slightly more)
[personal profile] stauncherhearted
Set a few hours after this thread.

Warnings: likely mentions of child abuse, sexual abuse, prostitution, domestic abuse, and criminal activities.

---

There's a bit of grease on Nancy's jeans as she pushes open the door to Cooper's apartment, one arm carrying a large brown bag. She puts her purse down next to the front door immediately as she comes in, calling: "Cooper! I'm home- stopped in at the shops on my way home, thought I'd pick up some more gin, and that whiskey you like." He should be home- he didn't have a Night Council meeting, and since he'd been returned from the Other Realm, he'd been laying low. She didn't blame him.

She's fresh from work, clear from the smell of oil that clings to her skin as she puts the bag of alcohol on the front-hall table. The gin she'd grabbed for herself was the cheap brand she usually drank, while the whiskey, actually paid for, was from a higher shelf. She knew what her boyfriend liked to drink, and she wanted to provide it for him, when needed.

Once she turned to take her shoes off, that's when she noticed it. The tiny pieces of what she assumed had once been a vase, nearly pulverized. The alcohol is immediately forgotten about as she calls out again, a note of worry in her voice: "Cooper? What happened?" She steps further into the apartment. "Did Juliet break a vase?" She can only hope it was that. But this wasn't the first time she'd come home to broken vessels in her entry-way. Far, far from it.

As Cooper was about to learn.
baisant: (5)
[personal profile] baisant
Jean-Claude sits behind his desk at Guilty Pleasures, as he has done so many times of late, working on his account books and contemplating what step next to take. While he has won Islington the Lambeth territory, while the Nest is at its strongest that it has been in years, Samantha is on the Night Council, and the position for President is up for nomination in the next few days. Will she go for it herself? Will she nominate someone within her pocket to take it? He can't imagine she would stand back and let the work she has put forth so far go to the wayside. But what is there to be done? What can he do, from where he is now? Is there anything?

Jean-Claude finds that he's been staring at his account book but not really registering the figures and information in front of him, and he sits back in his chair, running his hand through his hair with a sigh. There was a time when his life was more simple than this. He wonders when things had become so complicated, and how, for that matter.
emotioneater: (Head and shoulders)
[personal profile] emotioneater
 Cooper had been staying mostly in his apartment since he'd returned from the Other Realm. It had been a sobering experience for the vampire. Sure, the fae who had kidnapped him had been a bunch of delusional zealots, but they did have a point. His actions had caused a lot of misery for the supernatural community. It had given him something to think about while he healed up from the worst of the wood-based injuries he had received. And then there was the ousting of Sylvia to consider. He had been plenty mad to see that the Council had voted without him being present. What a fine state of affairs he'd gotten himself into.

But he couldn't stay holed up inside with only Nancy for emotional support. He needed to get back out there and get back on his feet. As a first step, he actually got out of bed, and went down to the shops to pick up some much-needed supplies. While he was there, he saw a kid standing in the candy aisle. It was Joss, and the fact he looked that intent over deciding which chocolate bar to buy was rather amusing, not that Cooper was going to bring it up. He was trying to learn to curb his tongue better.

He walked up to the older vampire. "I assume you've been following everythin' that's been going on lately." He needed someone to talk to about what was going on and Joss was older, if not exactly wiser in Cooper's opinion.
injectablefame: (Default)
[personal profile] injectablefame
Doubling down on his giant fuck you to the witches and the vampires and anyone else who pisses him off, Party's done sitting on his tail with the politics around here. There's only one logical person he wants to see in charge right now and that's Yasmine Merad.

Party might be sloppy, but he's not stupid, and leading up to the election, he's keeping his bright hair and tattered clothes clean. He might even smell kind of nice as he makes the rounds handing out posters he's made up and making sure everyone knows that Yasmine has the best interests of the community at heart. He's focusing his activities around his pack and areas where he knows he'll find sympathetic voters, avoiding vampire- and witch-dense areas in favor of hitting up everyone else who can vote.

His flyers have a cleaned up version of his signature bright art style with sayings like "A vote for Yasmine Merad is a vote for us" and "Community first".


[ OOC: Even if someone's not in a group Party would target doesn't mean he wouldn't cram a poster in their face. Come at me! ]
dirtyredneck: (Action Battle Pose (1))
[personal profile] dirtyredneck
He'd been sucking it up for months. Holding back waiting to see if Daybreak would get off their ass and do something about the shit that had gone down in their territory since Raymond's rise (which ended promptly with his fall, a thing Daybreak had no hand in). But all they'd done in Richmond was decide to build that eye sore of an insult to all non-witches. 'Center for Magical Innovation'. Bullshit. Center for slavery of non-witches was more accurate. Starting with the fae.

When Faolan had spoken against it, Daryl had hopes that maybe what little loose leadership the clan had might be ready to get up off their ass and do something. But that didn't happen and a month passed while the Center sat there, getting used. It's visitors abusing folks in ways it was hard to get any proof of. Just rumor and small confessions of a few fae who'd been able to slip away. Some of the stray cats in the area talked about it, too. Didn't like how it 'felt'.

Another month had almost passed and Daryl was done with waiting. He'd set up small patrols with others he'd trusted among Hillingdon months ago. Stuff to help protect the residents in the ways that Daybreak had been neglecting to. It wouldn't take much to turn those patrols toward doing something more.

Richmond was basically his territory already. It was time to make it Hillingdon's too.

(Specific prompts in the comments)
knowntohisfriends: (Default)
[personal profile] knowntohisfriends
[Make no mistake about it: the Artful Dodger is not a grass. People's business is their own matter an' it ain't for him to go stickin' his nose into it, causin' all sorts of problems what he ain't even got a right to. But then there's the stuff that's sort of his business, if only in a very loosely connected way. Or because of who it involves.]

[Nancy should be out - he's gotten good at keepin' to her schedule - an' it's Cooper he's wanting to see anyway. Doesn't stop the feeling of bein' a no-good peach from making his stomach sink as he raps on the door, shoving his hands into his pockets as he waits]

[He had to do this. Stuff was bein' said, and he needed to get in there first.]

[Nancy wouldn't see it that way, but he'd deal. Hopefully]
outstandingbalance: (pic#10158390)
[personal profile] outstandingbalance
Date Night - Close to Evie

Tonight, it's dinner. Natasha's choice. She might not be able to appreciate the flavor of the food itself the way she used to, but she still enjoys the experience. The candlelight. The waiters. The wine.

She enjoys spending time with her girlfriend, the feeling of privacy that comes from being in a secluded table in a nice restaurant, while still existing in public. Most of all, she enjoys the company, the chance to make Evie smile.

It's strange to her, very very strange, like being in a new country and only barely speaking the language, but it's also good.

On Patrol

With so much going on, there's a lot of reason for Natasha to be out on the street. She needs to know what's going on, but that's only part of it. She also needs to be there if something goes wrong. This whole month seems to be one bomb dropped after another, and it makes her twitchy.

So she walks the area around Redbright looking for trouble. Maybe she finds it. Maybe she finds a friend instead?

And the Bar

Or maybe she'll run into a friend at the bar. She can hope. It'd be a pity to drink alone.

Natasha doesn't like the position she's in. Since she arrived in London, she's wanted nothing more than stability and a place where the supernatural communities observed at least the appearance of peaceful co-existence, and since she's arrived it seems like there's been nothing but threats to that in one form or another.

Not that she was optimistic about the situation. She's used to not getting what she wants.

But at this point, the situation is discouraging, and she'd like someone to have a drink with while she gets the disappointment out of her system.

Wildcard
thelastjoy: Girl arguing, angry, upset; live action (Six)
[personal profile] thelastjoy
A. Caffeine Cold

A full week of a new school probably would have fried her nerves even if she wasn't still adjusting to her curse. The full moon, naturally, hadn't helped one bit. Coffee probably wouldn't help her relax, but she wasn't about to deny herself something sweet when her mood was already so sour.

So of course she trips rounding a street corner and spills the drink all over herself.

"Shit, shit, shit." Girl hops from foot to foot, trying to dislodge the icy mush from her shirt. She starts scooping it off her clothes, promptly flinging it away from her skin and, probably, right onto the poor souls passing by.

B. Into the Wolf's Lion's Den

The East End pack has far nicer digs than she's used to.

She saw some of the place on full moon, but hadn't had time for more than a quick peek around before other matter's took hold. With the night behind her, she's curious to explore; see what she'll be contending with for the foreseeable future. She's examining a broken down wall currently, running her fingers over the ragged edge of splintered stone.

"Ya'll been rough with this place," she says, though her tone is warm rather than accusing. She finds the chaos homey. "Looks like a hurricane came thrashin' through here."

C. Chalk Zone
She's not far from her apartment building, sitting cross legged in a parking lot of some run-down shops. It's well past working hours and the place is deserted. Girl's made herself comfortable, an honest to god boombox blaring loudly by her side, and a bag leaning against her back. She riffles through it every few moments, picking out new pieces of chalk.

She's drawing on the pavement, mushroom clouds and dragons mixed with lines from old rock songs. It's not very good, childish and more a mess than anything artistic. Still, she seems to be enjoying herself and the look she gives when anyone walks by says she has no plans on stopping any time soon.

D. Player's Choice; Leave your own prompt
threadspun: (002. the supreme art of war.)
[personal profile] threadspun
the background leading up to the plot )

[ backdated during scandal week 2017. the catch-all post for the plot regarding the string of vampire assaults! information about this post can be found here and top-levels for the mentioned events/steps to this plot can be found in here. if you'd like to have a closed thread related to this, let me know! ]

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