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undergrounds2015-07-19 10:14 pm
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[OPEN POST] The game is on
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.
Prompts
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.
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Maera loves the hunts. No matter which court leads the charge, hunts make her excited like nothing else. They bring out her passion, her strength, her slight tendency towards violence. And while she doesn't think she's good enough with a weapon to join in the hunt this time around, she's very happy to take part in any way that she can. So she darkens her eyes, grabs a bag, and runs along with the rest of the hunters, offering them all drinks to keep them going. Of course, some of the drinks given out might be spiked with a little something. Nothing harmful - just an over-the-counter sleeping pill that'll probably make the drinker too drowsy to be of much use.
Obviously, it's going to be an Unseelie who claims the beast at the end of the day. Maera's just helping her side along. And she'll betray no hint of any foul play on her face, just smiling and offering to anyone she runs into, "Need a pick-me-up?"
((ooc: maera won't play her tricks on any responders unless you'd like me to, jsyk!))
{ choose your own adventure }
It goes without saying that Maera's not going to just pass out drinks without having some herself. And maybe having a little too much. She's been grabbing whatever's closest, and the mixture of fae wine and mortal drinks has actually made her pretty tipsy.
Which is why she might stumble into someone on the streets of London completely alone, having fallen behind the rest of the party she had been running with earlier. Maera doesn't quite keep track of the time during the hunt, and so, whether it's the middle of the night or the afternoon, she'll be noticeably drunk, slurring apologies to whoever she's careened into. "S-so sorry about that. You-- alright, there?"
choose your own adventure
"Gone a little overboard celebratin', huh? Man, I'm gonna be glad when this month's over."
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"Speakin' of regrets, ain't you gonna have one killer hangover later?"
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A woman ahead makes a motion to Mab who waves a hand indicating she'll catch up without even looking. Their hounds continue on ahead as the red-headed fae laughs in delight and her horse leaps after them.
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Something in her eyes danced at the offer of drink. Ever has that been a favorite manner of capture for the fae. Even amongst peers in her own court. "A refreshment freely given with no expectations. Such a kind gesture my dear. Perhaps you are in the hunt more than I had previously guessed." There is something like approval in her tone.
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Dismissive as Azula has been about the hunting season, she can feel it in the air the same as anyone else. Her appetite for souls has spiked along with her hunger for power. Which is why she does two different kinds of hunting.
During the day, she preys on the weak-willed mortals. As well as the skeptics who are always glad to mock the supernatural. Taking advantage of her heritage and the ignorance of the general population, she's put together a small vendor stand in a place where it may or may not technically be legal.
It's a very simple set-up. She has a an incense holder in the shape of a dragon, several pieces of paper prefolded and with kanji on the back but their blank sides open, and a collection of incense. All of which is frankensinse.
"Anything you want," she says to a curious person who approaches her, "can be yours. Ask for what you want, write it on the paper, and offer what you're willing to give for it. Then burn the paper and send your request to the forces that be."
'The forces that be' meaning her. But none of it is a lie.
At night, her prey is of the supernatural variety. She feels the air, waiting to catch just that hint of a spirit not yet gone from this world. There are always a few. The lost, pathetic souls grasping for more time than their mortal lives deserved.
So, she'll just help a few people out who might be bothered by them. And, well, if there are witnesses the time or two she actually finds one... She doesn't worry much. No one will believe anything they say.
The Hunted
Azula isn't naive enough to think that even she is untouchable. There are things enough that would feast upon a fae, but she won't just hide away in the Other Realm at night because it might be dangerous. After all, she has her own hunting to do.
But she does try to keep aware, try to keep alert. But no one's guard is perfect.
The Hunt
Azula is happy to join a hunting party for this 'White Hart.' Her own culture doesn't have much about it, so she doesn't grasp why they want to catch the creature, but it's a way to pass time, and her father did say she was to learn about the fae culture here.
This? Seems to be a big part of it.
So, she's happy to toast in the Other Realm and pursue the animal. When there's a moment to rest or a meal to be had, she can be found having her fill and enjoying herself. When the race is on, she's almost tireless, driven by an inner fire.
The Celebration
Once the beast is caught, Azula falls easily into the revelry. Fairy wine and fairy food are in abundance, and she enjoys them to the fullest. Where there is music, there is dancing, too.
Though she makes merry less than she shows. The wine is never allowed to be enough to go to her head, and she doesn't stuff herself silly. Nor does she lose track of time while dancing. At least not more than any fae does.
Still, she's meant to enjoy herself, so she'll certainly act like she is.
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"What kind of celebration do you have?"
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Celebration
The Unseelie weren't as big on the actual hunting as the Seelie were, but he enjoyed it well enough. He had been drinking quite a bit, and a soft blue glow could be seen in his chest beneath his vest. It took quite a bit to get him truly drunk, so he was only a little tipsy.
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He wanted her to learn about the culture here, and that seemed like a high point. As well as the flavors of food and drink she was experiencing here, all very different than she was used to.
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His mother never really moved around much, which he didn't understand. But sometimes going off on your own could be a good thing.
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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.
2b.
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.
4
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."
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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))
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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..."
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4
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.
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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.
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Sirius had mixed feelings about Hunting Season. When one had the opportunity to get into it, it could be a fun time. Running through the streets of London, enjoying the thrill of the hunt whatever it was. He had had times like that and looked back on them fondly.
Other times, things didn't work out and you found yourself in a spot of trouble. Like now, when Sirius found himself out of breath and sore on a street he didn't entirely recognize. He'd shifted into his dog form, hoping to maybe take a chance on the hunt, but as he'd done so he'd been attacked by another large dog.
It had taken him by surprised and the two had fought rather viciously, the other dog getting in several good bites before Sirius managed to strike back and send it running. Sore and slightly annoyed, Sirius headed back to where he had hidden his clothes. Maybe he'd try again another night.
[ooc: Ties into this plot. Sirius can be encountered as a) a dog b)caught in the act of shifting back to a human or c) as a human]
b!
She'd been passing through, going between the Other Realm and the mortal one for sport. Besides, it left any hunting party who might be trying to follow her and snatch the glory out from under her without a clean path to track. Then, though, she saw something that interested her more than a giant stag.
It was a large dog changing its shape. Into that of a man.
She'd observed people enough that it was no source of embarrassment to her to see a man putting his clothes on, and she didn't tend to care about other people's comfort levels.
"It's been a bit since I last saw a shapeshifter." One, maybe two, hundred years. Which to her kind of fae was like a mortal year. Long enough to be notable but not enough to be surprising. While she might look young, the smell of magic and the supernatural was all around her. "Do you just have the one form?"
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"How long have you been there?"
At the very least, he was wearing pants now but still. He can smell the magic though, so his guard is up and for once he's glad for heightened instincts. In his surprise it takes a few minutes for her question to register, but he'll hold off until he gets his own answer.
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b
She's been investigating this dog biting situation for the past day and a half. So far a lot of the victims' stories have checked out against one another and she feels she's getting close to a conclusion. That's when she sees the big black dog. It fits the description and is running near the area where most of the attacks have happened. Carefully, Elsa follows it, close enough to keep an eye on it, but far enough back to hopefully not become a victim. She'd rather not have to freeze out a dog, vicious or not.
Elsa is tailing him down an alley when another black dog appears. How very odd. Are there two now? Then the second dog attacks the first one, biting him. They fight for a moment and then the second dog runs off. Elsa continues to stare at the now-wounded first dog when he suddenly shifts into human form.
This case just got very weird.
She steps carefully out of her hiding place and calls to the man from about six feet away from him. "Ah.. Excuse me?"
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As much as Sirius wanted to just run off and find some quiet place to sleep and heal, he figured he probably shouldn't. After all, he was trying to rid himself of suspicious behavior. Although his guard is up, just in case.
He yanks on his shirt, wondering how many people are going to watch him shift tonight. And hopefully, no one actually recognizes him.
"Yes?"