The Underground Mods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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thetube2016-02-27 09:49 pm
undergroundmods) wrote in thetube2016-02-27 09:49 pm
Entry tags:
Test Drive Meme: Feb/March 2016
Welcome to the Underground test drive meme! This is where you can try out the AU version of your character, start some potential CR and get a feel for the world of the game. Choose your character's species, read up on the available factions and you're ready to go. Put your character's name in your subject line when you post, tag out, and have fun!
Note to current players: Activity in this meme counts as game canon! So you can use it for activity check. If you end up playing anything that you can't or don't want to use as game canon, it's fine to ignore it. (In that case you shouldn't submit it for activity check.)
Here are some prompts to inspire you:
1) COMMON PEOPLE. What do normal Londoners do every day anyway? Sometimes you just want to blend in with everyone else. Make friends with humans. Talk about the weather. Go on, try it.
2) PENTHOUSE SUITE. But wait. Maybe you want to see how the other half live. The elite of the elite. You've been lucky enough to be asked to a meeting, or a luncheon, or a date. Find out what the most powerful people in London are really like.
3) GET OUT YOU FILTH. Supernatural prejudice is a regrettable fact of life in London. It doesn't matter what you are, there's someone out there who hates you because of it. They'll shun you, heckle you, even hunt you down and kill you. Of course, you're probably not immune to a few prejudices yourself.
4) SPEED DATING. Oh god. Why did you sign up to this. You should have known it was a bad idea when someone mentioned it was supernatural speed dating. Help.
5) THE REAL UNDERGROUND. Down in the darkest corners of the Tube, there are supernatural vagrants of all kinds, especially vampires. That friendly busker may well be a fae. That girl waiting for the next train is a ghost. Once you've seen it, you can't escape from it.
6) IN THE SUPERMARKET. On the other hand, you never know what you might find just walking around your local supermarket. You haven't forgotten how to do normal things like groceries, right?
7) A CURSED EXISTENCE. Maybe you literally are cursed. Maybe you just feel like it sometimes. There are things you can't do, weaknesses that normal humans aren't subject to, but they make everyday life in London that little bit more difficult. Try not to get too mad about it.
8) CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE. Anything goes.
Oliver Hampton | How to Get Away with Murder | Human
[He finishes work a little (or a lot) late, and if he's being honest a big part of that was intentional. It's quieter outside of rush hour, but it's not just breathing space he's hoping to find on the underground. He'd tried to stick to just spending his time with humans since he'd moved to London, but it's boring, and he never quite feels whole without the adventure being around the supernatural inevitably brings.
He knows what to look for, and some people put more effort into hiding themselves than others. He probably looks a lot more shady than a guy just trying to make friends, but it doesn't exactly stop him. If he spots something that clues him in, something that doesn't seem quite natural he pauses. Shoulders terse and hands stuffed deep into the coat of his pocket. It's more obvious than he'd like he's not just trying to make small talk, but standing there doing nothing isn't going to get him anywhere either.]
Hey.
6 - Supermarket
[At the end of the day Oliver is normal. So he needs normal things like toilet paper and bread... and okay, so maybe he doesn't need beer, but that doesn't stop him adding it to his cart anyway. Or the Men's Health magazine he has no intention of actually using for reading.
He's a little too wrapped up to care who might be around him, and so may or may not be mumbling the lyrics to the top 40 track playing over the store speakers as he compares expiry dates on cartons of milk.]
6
for your added awkward: right at the same time oliver is picking up that sweet men's health magazine starring some super fit man's abs and]
"10 things to know about the female orgasm"? Nice reading material.
[here's connor, also at the super market. great timing, right? hope you don't mind your business being everyone in the local vicinity's business.]
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6, idefk what happened with this tag, i'm sorry
Those poor fictional Tesco employees...
sorry for the wait, school killed me for a while :(
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5
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Connor Walsh | How To Get Away With Murder | Human
[this was probably a terrible idea. speed-dating? with supernatural? this was maybe like replying to a craig's list ad that ends with AND WE PROMISE WE AREN'T GOING TO MURDER YOU but really you're totally gonna get murdered. i mean, there were supernatural creatures that, like, ate people and stuff, right? vampires? maybe werewolves?
and yet
and yet
curiosity is a terrible thing. curiosity is always such that, once you'd started to think about the what ifs, you couldn't stop. and connor was never good about temptation. what if he didn't get murdered, though? what if he just had really really great sex with someone with cool powers? that could be worth it right? little bit kinky.
so, yeah. speed dating. speed dating. what a concept. and here he was, dressed all nice in a suit, presenting himself like he's 100% confident and not as if things had been going to absolute shit for him lately. what a great distraction this could be. and, oh? what's that? brandy? don't mind if he does.]
So tell me, [he looks at your name card and says your name, probably hopefully pronouncing it right] you're stuck on a desert island and can only bring one book, what is it?
the real underground
[connor can't really explain the feeling. it feels stupid, every time he practices it out loud. "i just feel...haunted?" what a joke. what a great big fucking joke. of course you'd feel haunted, if you fucked up so badly. that doesnn't mean ghosts are real.
and yet, knowing there's this whole side of london that no one knew about - maybe he wasn't wrong. maybe he was being haunted. and if that was the case maybe he could just take his ghosts (would they follow him? he's totally just making this shit up, right?) with him to the underground and...he doesn't know, hang out until someone notices?]
Well this is just pathetic.
choose your own adventure
(hit me up, yo!)
speed-dating c;
[And sometimes he just gets laid, which is pretty good too.]
[Kathryn is great at these things, but today Eames wears his own face. Swilling his drink idly as he sits across from Connor. Human, this one, not a hint of magic on him. But hey, if he's a waste of time, at least he's not bad to look at.]
Really? [He laughs] That's your 'let's get to know eachother' question?
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real underground
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the real underground!
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Speed dating
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Speed Dating
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Natasha Romanoff | MCU | Vampire
The past few months, Natasha has had a pretty extreme and—for an immortal—abrupt change of circumstances. After parting ways with her nest in Moscow under less than friendly terms, she finds herself in London trying to go straight. It's not a turn of events anyone could have seen coming. But here she is. Trying to fit in in a new place, without the support or the structure that comes with being part of vampire society, trying very hard to remember how to view humans as peers rather than prey.
It's... well, it's been a challenge.
But she's trying.
Tonight, she's people watching. She thinks it helps. Watching them come and go, listening in on their conversations, seeing them with their friends or working on their laptops, all remind her that they're actual people with lives and goals, and maybe those aren't as petty as she was led to believe in her decades in the nest. Each of them is unique, and none of them disposable or replaceable.
She'd be lying if she claimed it wasn't a process, but if nothing else, she is patient. So she watches them and she sips her coffee, and she pretends that it helps ease the burn in her throat.
4) SPEED DATING
Either she's bored, or she's lonely. Those are the two reasons why people do things like this, right? Because they don't have anything better to do, and they don't have anyone to do it with. Natasha's never thought of herself as the kind of person who gets lonely, but she's never actually been alone before. Not since she was sired.
She smiles as the next person settles in the chair across from her, putting on a welcoming front.
"Hey," she says, her eyes flicking down and then up, settling on the new arrival's face. The Russian accent is light but noticeable. There's no mistaking her for a local. "You're going to have to be gentle with me. I've never done something like this before."
Somehow, Natasha doesn't sound delicate.
8) CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE
((Follow your heart!))
plebs
He waits, anxiously tapping his foot while he tries to figure out. He could just, you know, leave. Take his coffee and sip it while angrily walking back to the library or something to get some actual studying in instead of worrying all the time about whether or not the supernatural really existed. But that would be a normal person thing to do.
Instead, he looks back over at her and asks, "Are you waiting for someone?"
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speed dating
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Speed dating
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Speed dating
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Speed Dating
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Emery Madsen (Hamlet) | Unseelie Fae
[ It’s kind of nice, being heir to a fae throne when said throne is in an entirely different country. All the perks, none of the expectations. Here, he gets to take advantage of his father’s contacts, but he can also get around without anyone necessarily recognizing him. Wandering the streets of the city is totally fair game, as is observing and meeting new people.
It’s fascinating. Mortals are interesting, in weird ways. And he's never really gotten to meet other supernatural creatures, with how Denmark is ruled by the fae. So when he senses anyone around who's even barely interesting, he'll watch them for a few minutes before approaching, giving them an absolutely charming smile. He is a prince, after all. ]
Hello there. How are you? [ Does he know you? No. Will that stop him from falling in step with you? No. ]
{ in the supermarket }
[ Of course, being alone in a foreign country also means that Emery has to fend for himself. Of course, he could always just return to the Other Realm, mooch off of the royals there as an ambassador from his Court. But his father has specifically asked him to try to understand the lives of those who aren’t fae, and Emery isn’t exactly one for disobeying his father.
So here he is in the local supermarket, staring at the array of snack foods in front of him with raised eyebrows. If anyone passes by, he’ll ask: ] What would you recommend? And why?
[ Because all of this fried, oily food in brightly-colored packaging seems pretty disgusting to him. ]
{ speed dating }
[ This counts as meeting new people. Right? It definitely doesn’t occur to Emery that it might not be the best idea to go to a speed dating event with no intention of actually dating anyone he meets there.
It’s not very entertaining. It takes him about five minutes to get bored, but he wants to try to stick it out through the whole event. Maybe. When the next person sits in the chair across from him, he’ll raise his eyebrows in a mockery of interest, leaning forward a little in his chair. ]
Should I ask something philosophical or meaningless? [ Emery is such a catch, people. ]
{ choose your own adventure }
[ anything goes! ]
common people
[Which is why Emery's greeting gets a heavy sigh rather than anything positive in return.]
I'm fine, Madsen.
[No return question, however. How rude.]
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meeting everyone in the supermarket what a happening spot
tesco: where stories begin
kids arent safe in the metro
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{ speed dating }
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matt murdock | daredevil | metahuman
[ Maybe Matt's lucky that he doesn't much look like a metahuman. Not that he would know what they look like, but people are usually surprised when they hear he is one. He just looks like your average blind guy. Of course, not everyone is so lucky, but Matt's not about to just stand by while he hears someone raising their voice in a threatening tone. He didn't quite catch what the person said, but he's quick to step in when he probably shouldn't. Always the hero, Matt. ]
Is there a problem here?
[ Maybe he's defending you or maybe you're just standing by to see what happens, but one things for sure. Matt's tense stance and calm, fearless gaze mean business. ]
6: IN THE SUPERMARKET
[ Supermarkets are probably the worst when it comes to shopping while blind, let me tell you. For all that Matt can single out the freshest loaf of bread and hear the difference between a name-brand box of Cheerios and the store kind, certain things like jars vacuum sealed packets are, well, a challenge. He's committed to going it alone-- he's brought his phone, which has an app that manages to read out most labels for him, but as it is, he's holding up a can of tomato something and wondering if it's tomato sauce or tomato puree. Why can't everything just be printed in braille?
He could use a little help. ]
8: CHOOSE YOUR OWN
[ Anything else! ]
supermarché
finally, though, since this guy seems to be really having a hard time of getting his phone to figure out what the can is:]
That's puree, is that what you were going for?
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3
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scoots in over here for #3.......................
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Get Out You Filth
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Ian Chesterton (Doctor Who) - Human
There was a gang heckling at someone on the platform. Ian hated to see anyone being bullied, so he waded in with a "Hey, stop that!". When the gang turned round he saw they were not all human. Of course they weren't. It seemed like everything he ran into these days was supernatural related. To think, not long ago he hadn't even known anything like this existed. Sometimes he still wished it didn't.
"Leave her alone," in his best 'do what I say' teacher's voice.
ooc: Keeping it vague, in case you want to be the bullier or bullied.
4 Speed dating
Ian shifted uncomfortably in his chair while he was between dates. He wasn't sure how he'd been talked into speed dating in the first place, let alone supernatural speed dating. He supposed it would be easier to find someone who already knew about the supernatural. It was something that would be hard to hide from a girlfriend. It didn't mean that he wanted a vampire girlfriend, though.
However, he was always polite and he smiled as the next person sat down. It was just a nervous smile.
6 In the supermarket
They'd moved things round again. Ian was searching for the toothpaste when he spotted the blood. It could have just been some food colouring or dye, but when he looked closer he saw it was definitely blood. Maybe someone nearby cut their finger or had a nosebleed or something. He hoped so anyway.
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"'M Skip."
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Soeki Halloway-Crowe | OC (witch)
[How does a witch go about finding a new set of people when you're pretty new to the country? Post a personal ad? M, 28, London, seeking new coven. Please do not ask for references from my old one? Yeah, like that would ever work. In an ideal world, he wouldn't have had to move, but his fellows back home had been catching on that some of the magic Soeki sought out wasn't exactly... on the up and up. It was safer to leave town, move somewhere else.
Of course, now he just feels kind of lost and aimless, a little bit lonely. He's waiting on the platform, shouldering his bag, and if he ends up next to someone that he gets a vibe off of, he'll glance over.] Hey, how's it going? [Can't meet people without trying.]
6: Supermarket
[He's standing in the aisle with the dried spices, after a failed attempt to find what he was looking for in produce. His trolley is a mishmash of odds and ends, mostly junk food and beer, a few frozen dinners, standard bachelor fare, but also way more tea-light candles than any one bachelor would ever need. He's eyeing a jar of dried, ground sage, and when someone is near, he looks up, shaking the jar.]
Do you think I'd die if I burned ground sage? Purely hypothetical question. [It's not hypothetical.]
8: Choose Your Own
[Still playing around with backstory and etc, feel free to hit me with something else!]
6!
She's walking down the same aisle as Soeki, a basket in one arm. She stops to answer his completely not hypothetical question.]
Uh, it's not really my thing, but I don't think that's a good idea. There's a reason we grow the fresh stuff at Redbright.
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Cesare Borgia | The Borgias | Vampire
[Every so often Cesare looks for someone to bed. It's a mutual agreement that he and his sister had decided a couple hundred years into their time together: you are wonderful, I love you very much, but we both need something more than this. Normally Cesare finds a bar, or an app (keeping with the times. Isn't he hip?), but someone had mentioned "speed dating" and, ever the masochist, Cesare is intrigued.
He's rolling the rim of his beer glass on the table as he looks at the person in front of him. His eyes narrow slightly. Interesting? Maybe. He needs to know more.]
How old are you? [It's a blunt question, yes, but Cesare doesn't seem to mind.]
5) THE REAL UNDERGROUND
[Cesare thinks himself to be a modern man, or at least as modern as one can be when they come from the 16th century. Over 500 years of life has provided time for some bad habits to ingrain themselves into his personality. He grits his teeth when he's angry, something he knows is not ideal, yet continues to do anyway, he interrupts people when they speak and he far prefers spending time with his own kind. Yes, yes, humans are fine, in a simple, appetizing type of way. Witches are reasonable when they are into the darker arts, but in his eyes there is nothing like another vampire. They have a darkness to them, a wickedness that matures over time. Every so often, when he finds his own nest dull and stifling, he seeks out something with rougher edges, something with less wealth and more danger, where people don't quite know who he is.
And so he stands about the underground, with its tight tunnels and cloying air, as if he's waiting for a train that never comes, searching patiently out of the corner of his eye for something or someone of interest.]
8) CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE
[Surprise me!]
4;
the question throws connor a little bit. he's used to a lot of similar questions, some stupid others attempting to be interesting. but flat out asking someone their age? that's definitely surprising. it felt like something you weren't supposed to do, but he wasn't about to shy away from the question, either. he's a confident guy.]
Twenty-five. Why? How old are you?
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5) THE REAL UNDERGROUND
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Effy Stonem | Skins | Fae (changeling)
[It's not that Effy is never afraid. It's just that the apathy outweighs the fear, and anything, anything is better than the boring, day-to-day shit. Pretending, trying to be normal. It doesn't work.
This? Maybe it won't be fun, but it'll at least be interesting.
That was part of why she came to London, in a way. To get away from the ordinary -- to get away from all the people who thought she was ordinary.
She watches the person who sits down, almost unblinking, leaning back in her chair. Her eyes flick down to the name card and then back up. Her eyebrows lift for a brief moment. She doesn't speak, only watches, staring coolly. Fucking with people is kind of a dick move, considering how this is all supposed to go, but she doesn't seem to care about that.]
[5 - The Real Underground]
[Flick. Lighter goes on.
It's unsettling, down here. Not because of the vampires or the ghosts. Not even because of the fae. She doesn't care about those, not really, not in the way that makes her antsy enough to play with her lighter in an enclosed space. She doesn't move, but her eyes flick around the area, taking in the people. An old man on the other side of the tracks. A couple making out for just a little too long. Those don't scare her.
Flick. It goes off.
Someday, says the nagging feeling at the back of her mind, she's going to run into someone uncomfortably familiar. Someone who looks just a little too much like her. The human child she replaced...sometimes she wonders what that child is doing now. If it's --if she's-- even still alive. You never can tell, can you?
Flick. Again, the lighter--
Someone going just a bit too fast, not looking just for a second, rushes past, bumping into her. The lighter drops from her hand, bounces on the floor and then falls onto the tracks.]
Shit-- shit!
[8 - CYOA]
[Brand new character, still trying to get my bearings. Hit me with whatever you want!]
5;
[judging random strangers on the underground. classy. it is one of the many services connor has to offer, which he's sharing right now. he's been watching her play with the lighter - there was a lot of judgement there too. but she looks about as unsettled as he feels so maybe that's why he was drawn to watching her. or maybe it was just morbid curiosity. either way, here he is, judging her.]
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4 i do what i want
chinhands
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Lucrezia Borgia | The Borgias | Vampire
[ many things change over the course of 500 years, but one remains the same: Lucrezia likes pretty things. they've had a routine through the last century - Cesare plays his political games, and Lucrezia spends his money, while hanging around and making sure he brother doesn't drive himself into misery. maybe to keep herself from the same. they've only ever really had each other to trust in the world, and while the centuries were touch and go in many places, that, at least, remains mostly the same.
but her ambition was never as grand as his. Lucrezia's satisfied by something so simple as browse through department stores and designer outlets, manicured nails tapping at dress hangers as she cards through them, glancing up a moment to cast a studying look towards another shopper, and the unfortunate garment they have in their hand. ]
Oh, darling. That's not your color. [ Spoken in a crisp English accent, as if she'd lived here all her life, soft and sympathetic and a bit amused, though in a kind way. ] Come here, then. Let me help. I won't bite.
[ not right now, at least. ]
4 - SPEED DATING;
Let's play a game. No, no, put that down.
[ She tugs the little dating card out of her new partner's hands, dropping it to the table face down. We're not going to worry about making notes and taking phone numbers or learning names, okay? She's over small talk at this point, let's please be interesting. ]
I'll give you a word, and you tell me the first thing that comes to mind. Then we trade, and I do the same for you. [ Lips painted bright red smile wide, dimples in her smile, and a soft, playfulness in her eyes. ]
First round. "Love".
5 - THE REAL UNDERGROUND;
[ A woman that looks lost in time stands in a gown that seems like it'd fallen out of the Victorian age, deep red near black in places, blond hair stark in contrast, looking more like a doll than a girl, standing straight backed, at the edge of the platform, looking down onto the tracks like she's thinking of jumping down onto them, when the clocks chime midnight. Bright blue eyes dart up, glancing around, like someone just rang the bell to start the party. ]
'Tis now the very witching time of night. [ She starts to mumble out, gradually rising in volume, reciting something from a play she'd seen ages upon ages ago, still do fresh in her mind. There's a bit of twirling going on, and she probably looks kind of deranged, but she's having fun, and after 500 years, you get to a point where you could really care less how crazy you look, as you sing-song Shakespeare in a subway station. ] When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out.
[ a beat, and she stops, eyes searching around the platform until landing on you (yes you), red lips pulling into a wide smile. ] Contagion to this world. Do you know the verse?
[ if you're a great fan of Hamlet and happen to know where this line leads to, you'll know the next line, that Lucrezia doesn't voice, is "now could I drink hot blood, and do such bitter business as the day would quake to look on." If you're a human, you may want to reconsider being down here with her alone. ]
WILDCARD;
[ idk man hit me with whatever \o/ ]
1;
No? You don't think hideous pineapple is my style?
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4 I couldn't help myself
actually had half a tag written for your top level when i saw this :'D also sorry for the wait ;;
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Laura Roslin | Battlestar Galactica | Daybreak Witch
Phewwww, this was a bad idea, Laura can't help but think, settling down into her chair for the next round of- why did she want to call them interviews? Her old fashioned is about three-quarters full, but it's her second one of the night. This was a bad idea, on a weekday. She had classes to teach in the morning, but here she was.
Summoning a smile, Laura looks up across the table and extends a hand. "Hello- I'm Laura."
The Real Underground
It's getting late, and Laura's finally on her way home. She'd spent the day working, and once classes had let out for the day at the Redbright Institute, she'd stayed late grading papers and completing paperwork. She hadn't realized just how late it got until she'd caught herself falling asleep at her desk. And rather than spend the night there (again) she began to make the long trek back to her flat through mostly-abandoned tube stations.
Now, where the frak was that train? If she'd missed the last one- she'd have to try to figure out the Night Bus schedule, gods forbid.
Choose Your Own Adventure
speed dating
"I'm Matt. Nice to meet you."
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Speed Dating
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Aerith Gainsborough | Final Fantasty 7 | Seelie
So this is a...cappuccino?
[Aerith was a little dubious about this, but it smelled interesting. It was an interesting drink, and she peered at it, uncertain how it was supposed to taste. True, it was new, but she wasn't about to turn away from a drink that the humans introduced her to, even as a sample.
Aerith took a sip. And coughed, needing to put down her cup and rub at her eyes, feeling them water. That was really...stronger then she anticipated.]
3
Is that right?
[Aerith's smile was light and sweet. Her hands were clasped behind her back, and she had to look up at the man who had rammed into her, almost to the point of her falling off her feet. He'd called her a filthy pointy ear too. Which she did not approve of.
She liked to stay very clean, thank you very much.]
I don't see what's so bad about pointy ears. I mean, there's nothing wrong with having a beard, is there? Or red hair? Or wearing leather boots?
[Aerith leaned forward slightly, still smiling.]
Even if you don't know if the leather is made of cow skin or not, it's no reason to be rude. Right?
4
So...
[Why was she here. She thought that it would be an easy to get to know people, but instead, this was all sorts of awkward. They had candles and everything, but she didn't know what to do with this. Make a few friends. But these...well, the last person she had been talking to, she had been tempted to turn them into a duck. They had quacked enough as it was.
But she kept smiling. She was well dressed in pink, and held her hands clasped on her lap. Oh look, new person.]
Hello. Is this your first time too?
6
[It all started with the bread.
She zoned right in on the bakery section, and took in a deep breath. It smelt wonderful, and she nearly forgot about the basket she had over her arm. It slid and she heard a clink.
Startled, she turned, and ended up knowing over a display of cans.]
Oh! I'm so sorry!
[With apologizes and head shaking she knelt down, making to gather it up and put the display back together. It was embarrassing. First time in the supermarket, and she already flubbed up.]
7
[This was frustrating. She could see how people liked some of these things, but...looking at the jewelry in the window, and she had her fingers against the glass. But she couldn't buy it. Not even if she had the funds. It was silver.
It was beautiful too. Maybe it was a good thing it was a winter color. Her shoulders slumped for a moment, and she sighed turning away. But seeing someone, she blinked, before offering them a smile.]
It's a beautiful necklace, don't you think? They did a good job with the stone setting.
6
He picks up a can that had rolled near his foot, crossing the short distance to help her gather them up again.]
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gaby teller | the man from u.n.c.l.e | shapeshifter
4; speed dating
5; the real underground
8; choose your own adventure
5; the real underground
It's true. She had been looking. There's something off about the girl, and something familiar about what that is.
Natasha answers with a shrug, but she doesn't entirely dismiss the question. Her own words are accented recognizably in Russian.]
You seemed uncomfortable. I wondered if you were lost.
[Her lips twitch slightly then, not finding a smile.]
Maybe that's not it though.
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1;
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5
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8
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4
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Avery Garrett ( OC ) Shapeshifter
6;
Hot date tonight?
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7
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4) Speed Dating
sorry about the wait! weird week
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7
Evelyn O'Connell | The Mummy Returns | Daybreak Witch
So, what sort of conversation would you like to indulge in this evening?
[It isn't that she wants to separate the wheat from the chaff - and she does, she absolutely does - but the sort of inane drivel that normally preoccupies events of this nature (what do you like to read? what are your hobbies? eviscerating people? hm.) are worn thin. There are only so many times she can repeat the same tired questions and receive equally tired answers, although the onus may be on Evelyn, having decided to attend a few rounds of speed-dating looking for anything resembling stimulating discourse.
It is becoming increasingly difficult not to want to delve further into the meat of people, but her interest is best held by the prospect of potential further talk and so she leans forward conspiratorially, wearing faux seriousness almost as well as she wears her current dress.]
How the proletariat is stepping out into society? What sort of bourgeois principles are being appropriated by the upper class?
6 - In the Supermarket
[There is something wholly discomfiting about the sorts of foodstuffs cluttering the shelves at the grocer, bright and colourful packaging advertising lower caloric intakes, sugar-free contents, overly processed products. One has to wonder whether cooking for oneself has become a dying art in the wake of the microwave, when it is equally easy to suffer the inevitable gastric slings and arrows of a Hot Pocket.
Evelyn wrinkles her nose, stepping past a display of carbonated soft drinks and into the produce section. Perhaps it is telling enough that the assortment of fruits and vegetables is similarly less than ideal - as an exceptionally meticulous and particular person who demands perfection in her own work, a need for quality bleeds into other aspects of daily life - she supposes that mid-grade potatoes and lightly-wilting spinach will have to do.
Regardless, it should come as no surprise that her train of thought has left her frowning intently at a head of lettuce.]
8 - Choose Your Own Adventure
[[Down for all kindsa stuff!]]
Four; I am so sorry
If the upper class is desperate enough to adopt bourgeois principles, maybe it shouldn't be any surprise that the proletariat can find a way into society. But maybe what we should really be asking is whether or not the ramifications of those two things are going to be an issue. Do you think it would help the proletariat with their struggle, or simple lull them into a sense of security?
I'M NOT (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧
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4 - I was gonna not, but then I read the starter.
B) B) B)
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4 because I'm weak
you are chumming the water, pal
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4 - Like the others, there is no way I can resist an opening like that
EXCELLENTE ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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Mister Nobody ▽ Transistor ▽ Ghost
[The trick to the afterlife isn't dwelling on what you can't have anymore--it's taking advantage of what you can.
This, for example, is not an opportunity he would have been afforded while living. No, these patrons were all people who earned their livings in morally righteous ways, which means that he and his sea-licked leather and lopsided tricorn would've been laughed out of the door, but they don't even know he's there.
What that means is that he can take a seat on an unoccupied bar chair and kick up his boots onto the counter. It'd make them freak if they knew, and that's all the more reason for it to be so viscerally delightful. But if he can't socialize or drink! What other reason is there for him to be at a party besides breaking the social norms?
Why, to listen to live music, of course. With his hat tilted over his face, it might seem like he's asleep (he's not, and he never will be) but the truth is, he's just here to chill out and listen to smooth jazz.
And he'll get away with his ultimately uninvasive shenanigans until you spot or sense him. In the former case, provided you look directly at him from long enough, he'll look back at you; in the latter, the area immediately around the chair is much too cold to take the seat comfortably. Stick around long enough, and your phone will buzz with a text message from a binary number. Either way, the greeting is the same:]
Ahoy there.
5:: The Real Underground
[He's present, not in body, not in mind, but in atmosphere.
There are lots of smells down here, sure, and not all of them are pleasant. The smell of old, sea-soaked wood and a subtle breeze of salty air might get picked up by those of certain sensitivities if they're checking the network map. Stay too long and, regardless if you can feel his presence or not, you'll get a text message from a number comprised of binary digits:]
Are you lost? I can help you.
6 OOPS
He sure can't expect... well, weird texts. Which, well, in order to reply, he has to speak into his phone. So this is going to get redundant quick. ]
Who is this?
STILL WRONG
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two;
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5
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Napoleon Solo | Man from U.N.C.L.E | Fae
[Napoleon was a snob when it came to...well, almost everything. This included coffee and he refused to go to chains on principal. So he frequents the smaller, independently run local shops. Which, if for whatever reason you do as well, Napoleon will gladly try to charm you into either letting him have your wallet (willingly or not) or having dinner with him later tonight.
Never mind that it's 7 AM.
And never mind that he was at the back of the line and is totally using the act of 'generosity' as a way to get to the front.
Still, you might be too tired or flabbergasted by Napoleon leaning over the counter with a bill folded between his fingers held out to the barista and what should qualify as a charming smile direct towards you.]
Allow me.
2)Speed Dating
[Needless to say, Napoleon wasn't here for the dating opportunities. At least, it was needless to him. He thought himself leagues above the people here - and not just in looks. But sometimes a guy (Fae) just wanted to brush up on his petty theft, or wrangle a contract out of someone. Or string someone along for a night together before disappearing in the morning.
Some event like this where people were already desperate enough to go speed dating? Well. Pickings were easy.
The buzzer dinged and Napoleon took his seat once more and smiled in greeting before -]
What are you drinking?
3) Cursed Existence
[The Redbright Institute's library was an extensive and grand example o Sylvia Redbright's wealth and power - and was also completely accessible to anyone inside the school who was allowed inside it's halls. Napoleon had somehow been put on that list though who knows through what means. Still. If he can use the resource, he might as well not do it half-halfheartedly.
There's a whole table with six chairs on either side of it teeming with books on magic and witchcraft. Specifically - Fae contracts and how to end them.
Waverly wasn't a bad witch to be in service to - he was much more bearable than Sanders, but having a nicer warden didn't make prison better in the grand scheme of things.
And frankly, after eleven witches and three more to go, Napoleon was going a little stir crazy.]
4) WILDCARD
Whatever you want.
2
[Like him, she hadn't come to try her luck with the dating game. She could have almost anyone she wanted, she liked to think. Unlike him, however, she hadn't come to scoff at the misfortune of others. She'd come to try and change that a bit.
Some of the people present would come to find, hours after they got home, that they'd picked up a small bit of change or some other little thing. Meant merely as a bit of a push of good luck.]
Not the best I've had, but it's certainly better than nothing.
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3
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2) Speed Dating
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Sebastian Moran | Sherlock Holmes | shapeshifter
[Hailing a cab proved impossible, so Sebatian Moran is stuck on the Tube. And the damned car has come to a halt. The lights are off, only the emergency lights visible. Because that's precisely what his day-- week--
what his year needed to be complete.]
God fuckin' damn it.
Hoped some things had changed at least.
[It's took dark to even see his book properly, so he can't just settle in with that. Maybe it is time to go digital. Then he'd have a screen brightness to increase.]
4)
['What is the first line of your favourite poem?'
It's a stupid little prompt, but he's here to get into the spirit of the event. Besides, he's orienting himself with the community. Which is why his card leaves him open for men or women. If asked, he'd happily announce that he believes firmly in equal opportunity.
So, he flashes a bit of a smile.]
'Tyger! Tyger! burning bright.'
You?
6)
[Sebastian hasn't done his own shopping in about two years. Since then, he's always just had to write up a list and leave it posted to the icebox. Then, his kitchen would be stocked, everything already put away.
But he's on a budget now -- rather a tight one until he gets some proper work.
And he's in a brand new supermarket. And completely lost.]
Sorry. Do you work here?
[The first person who looks like they might pass as an employee will have to deal with the question.]
I'm looking for the coffee aisle.
7)
[He couldn't have tea.
It seemed like the worst thing possible for Sebastian. He didn't particularly like sugar, so Coke and its ilk were long out. He couldn't drink alcohol. Then, tea was taken from him. So he had a glass of water with his meal.
Which isn't awful, but--
He's dialling numbers as he eats, reaching out to members of the supernatural community to try and find someone who knows something about lifting this damn curse. A consequence, he supposes, for mouthing off to the wrong witch when the one he works for isn't around to back him up.]
1
Seeing well in the dark isn't his particular talent, so it takes him a few blinks to even make out the vague shapes that constitute the other riders in the car, emergency lighting being just this side of useless. John fumbles for his phone in his pocket, intending to at least use the screen as a torch but it slips from his fingers to the floor with a clatter and he has to go groping after it on hands and knees like a moron.]
Shit...sorry-
[He's pretty sure that's someone's leg he's just brushed against.]
Mobile got away from me.
/not excited at all to see a Watson, nope nope
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4!
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John Watson | BBC's Sherlock | Meta-human
[It's a ridiculous place and John feels ridiculous for being there, except his curiosity had gotten the better of him and receiving an invitation to this kind of private club at all was something that only happened once in a lifetime. He still isn't sure who exactly sent the letter, handwritten in fancy public-school script with his name embossed on the envelope in gold. Certainly no one he knows is posh enough to merit this kind of place.
For fuck's sake there was a chandelier in the elevator. If there's one in the loo, John resolves to take pictures with his phone and laugh himself to death.
Right now he's content to sit at the bar and look over the most expensive drink menu he's ever seen, a little worried that any second now someone will notice how very much he doesn't belong here and toss him out on his arse. The barman looks at him with suspicion.]
Don't suppose there's any chance of getting a pint?
6. In the Supermarket
[Chip and pin machines. The bane of his existence. John pokes at the buttons again in the hopes that maybe this time the combo will be enough to make the tinny, recorded voice shut up about how he needs to please re-scan his card or take items out of bags and put them back in again, since apparently his arrangement wasn't to satisfaction the first time.
After the fifth time his card is rejected, John throws his hands in the air and seriously considers punching the damned thing.]
Are you serious? All I want to do is buy some bloody bananas and tea bags!
8. The Clinic
[Usually John's little clinic doesn't see much excitement. There's the usual cases of flu, gallstones, wall-to-wall strep throat, sinus infections, routine physicals; and John sees to them all with a congenial, professional manner that his regulars seem to appreciate.
He chats with the little old ladies about their dogs and their disappointing grandchildren, he talks football and rugger with the men who reluctantly file in for their prostate exams, and he gives lollys and praise to the kids who come for their shots.
But every so often someone will come in with serious bite marks or lacerations or wounds that need more than stitching and John will 'cheat' a little on these cases and use the gift he discovered while bleeding out into the sands of Afghanistan. Healing is as natural as breathing now. He's had a lot of practice at it since he was shot.
Today, no one at all has been in, which is so rare that John's almost at a loss for how to spend his time. He's browsing through medical files and finishing up a sandwich when the chime above the door rings.]
2
[He offers it helpfully even as he takes another glass of red wine from a waiter's tray. Who the man is, Coward isn't quite sure, but it doesn't matter much to him. All he knows is that there are always of people who'd rather have beer.]
They've got a small tap bar set up.
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wildcard because i damn well want to ; March 23rd
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8
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6
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Thomas Nightingale | Rivers of London | Witch
If you want to know what a normal Londoner does on a normal day, then you're certainly barking up the wrong tree as far as former DCI Thomas Nightingale is concerned. He even looks out of place. Dressed in a three-piece suit that's been excuisitely tailored to fit him, his hair trimmed short and every strand of it properly combed into behaving, he sits in the dining area of the cafe with one leg casually crossed over the other, and a polished, silver-topped cane leaning against the side of his chair as he sips his coffee and reads an actual book. A practice that seems to be dwindling these days.
If one should wander close enough to read the title or even glance the pages, it will become pretty clear that the book itself is not in English, but in fact in Latin. Why? Because Nightingale is brushing up on a particular theory about to be addressed in class, and there's no better way of doing so in his mind than going back to the origin of the theory itself.
His mobile rests in his jacket pocket, conveniently turned off, as he is on his lunch break and how else will he get any peace otherwise? (Of course, he will probably neglect to turn it back on until the next time he needs to use it himself, as Nightingale has yet to grasp that particular branch of mobile technology just yet.) But while he sits placidly reading, his ears remain open to the cafe around him. And all other senses, for that matter, glancing up as he suddenly feels himself being watched...
THE REAL UNDERGROUND
Nightingale knows that perhaps he shouldn't be out hunting vampires on his own. That's not really how the Outreach team is supposed to function, at any rate. Seek out and contain supernatural threats, yes. Make the city a safer place for everyone, absolutely. So going after this vampire that seems to be intent on trying to turn other types of supernaturals really does fall within the job description. It's the fact that he hasn't called in anyone for backup that's perhaps against the rules. But he's former DCI Thomas Nightingale, former Guardian of the Night Council, and he's always been more of a do as I say but not necessarily as I do sort of a chap.
At least as far as the present circumstances are concerned.
He's tracked the offending creature as far as this block, but with as busy as it is, it's hard to get a read on how it progressed from there. Nightingale clutches his cane in his hand and reaches out to put his hand against the brick by the side of the walk, closing his eyes and trying to feel for something, any trace of the magic of the vampire that might signal which way it had progressed from there. Under the streetlight above him he rather looks like a tragic character from an old film, with his long, white jacket belted around his waist, his shoes immaculately shined, complete with silver-topped cane and dramatic pose. Though he might be perhaps a bit too focused on finding the trace magic in the area...
CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE
If you have any ideas yourself, go for it! Alternatively, if you'd like to plot something out, hit me up with a PM or contact me through plurk at
The Real Underground
News travels fast in some circles, especially the undead ones. Joss is hardly a fixture in vampire society (most of them would gladly put a stake through his heart if given half the chance), but he's still heard plenty about the upstart brat trying to turn others in the supernatural community. Immortality is a powerful lure, even if it means losing magic or other abilities. Several have accepted the vampire's offer.
And that's a problem.
It isn't the sixteenth century anymore. There are rules to this sort of thing. Vampires have a strict hierarchy when it comes to turning humans. Only those with position and power can do so without others objecting, and even then it can be surprisingly political. For a relative nobody to be offering the gift to just anyone, damn the consequences? Well, those consequences can be quite severe indeed.
No one ordered Joscelin to investigate this, mind you; he takes pains not to be seen by anyone, least of all by the witch standing so obliviously in the lamplight. But the vampire is bad PR, and Joss reckons anything he can do to further Coward's agenda will only help his own. This isn't the first time he's hunted his own kind in the last several weeks. He's not especially good at it, but he has the element of surprise on his side and he hasn't failed yet. So many disregard the slight, pale child, perhaps momentarily forgetting his particularly gruesome reputation. To their peril.
He brushes past the witch, keeping to the shadows just as another figure appears on pavement.
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Common people
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sherlock holmes | bbc's sherlock | vampire
[ Sherlock spends a large portion of his time people watching. It's a comfort more than anything else - this is something he'd done as a human to keep his senses sharp, to assess and observe the countless lives that pass through the streets of London each and every day. These days Sherlock doesn't really need to keep those old observation skills active, because his senses can tell him more than his observations ever could, but a combination of vampiric instinct and logical deduction has given him quite the edge over other, 'stronger' vampires. He can talk his way out of almost anything. It's quite the gift.
He's settled himself in a quaint little café just outside of Kings Cross station, eyes scanning each and every person sitting beside him - mostly human, a few fae (and he ignores them, because he's not in the mood to start a fight when he's busy play pretending at being human, just like they are), a few shapeshifters and another vampire scouting out their next meal.
Sherlock hasn't eaten for a while, and the coffee he's bought isn't doing the trick at all. It's too sweet and the pot it was poured out of probably hasn't been washed in years; he leaves it to the side, and he folds his hands together in his lap as he watches people spill out of the train station every few minutes; he can hear their heartbeats as they erratically try to get wherever it is they're going - late for meetings, for dates, for friends.
People are so predictable. ]
4. SPEED DATING (because I'm a terrible person)
[ He's been tracking the man that murdered six children in cold blood for the last three months. Finally, he's shown his face, and he's going to pick his next mark tonight - he tends to go for single mothers, and... well, there's plenty here tonight.
Obviously he doesn't expect to end up sitting opposite him, but he'll be in close enough proximity to watch, and that's really all he needs.
So if he seems a little bit distracted as he talks about his hobbies and his ideal date, it's probably because the killer's doing something interesting. Or it might be because he got slightly distracted by the frankly overwhelming sound of pulses everywhere, which is always somewhat dizzying when he hasn't eaten for a week or so.
He'll push through it. It's fine. ]
8. WILDCARD
[ Choose your own adventure! ]
Common People
[The accent is nothing but posh. More than that, it's old school posh. The kind that went out of basic use in the Victorian era, perhaps a bit later. Not that most would know, but an older mind and a keen ear could hear it. The pale skin wasn't indicative of much by itself, but by sound, there was a distinct lack of a pulse for the Commissioner of Police of the Metropolitan.
Of course, he'd heard the exact same thing when he'd approached. So he knew he was speaking to one of his own.]
And they're so busy now. So many worries. Keeps their hearts racing.
(no subject)
8 - I DO WHAT I WANT
WOW SUCH A REBEL /swoons
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4 because i like a good joke
u r a good joke
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common people;
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4 no one can STOP ME
omfg worst speed dating partner ever. he kept trying to lick the dust off of my coat????
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Bucky Barnes | MCU | Werewolf
[Now, this wasn't the first time Bucky had seen or even been involved with prejudice. He grew up in as a poor kid in the depression, was an American soldier in Europe during WW2 and now he was one what some might argue is the lowest creature on the supernatural totem pole. He was fine if the prejudice was directed at him, he knew how to ignore it. Put it towards a friend or some innocent bystander? Hell no.]
Look pal--
[He stepped out of his seat at the bar, his metal hand shoved into his pocket and hidden by the long sleeves he wore.]
I don't see how getting into someone elses business is any of your concern, maybe you should pick on someone your own size.
[Namely him.]
4. Speed dating
[He wondered vaguely for a moment who in the world set him up with speed dating. At least he dressed nice for this, he even had his hair all nice and neat. He sat the the table, leaning back in his seat as he stared at the glass of whiskey in front of him and then to the person in front of him. Well, he was always the charmer. Being frozen in time for 70 years hopefully didn't damper his game. He smiled as he stared at the person across from him and chuckled as he brought the glass to his lips.]
So, what's your story?
6. Supermarket.
[Even if he was a werewolf....he still needed bread and eggs. He had a shopping cart in from of him, empty, and he was starting at the milk with a face of both disapproval and disbelief.]
5 pounds for milk?
[This is a disgrace. He didn't fight the Nazis for this.]
Jesus Christ....
[Well, it was better than rations and condensed milk for sure. He begrudgingly placed the milk in the basket with a heavy sigh. He was not excited about shopping anymore.]
6
Steve wanders back to him with an unrefrigerated carton of eggs like they're made of gold; for the price, they might as well be. Everything seems better than anything they could have ever gotten on the field, but he wonders how people survive these days without starving or living on the street. ]
Most of what they've got here isn't any better than that. These were-- [ He shrugs and holds up two fingers. ] And that's only part of what we put on the list.
[ How much money did they have again? ]
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4, see if I don't.
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steve rogers | mcu | meta human
[ Blending in might have been a good option had he actually tried it. The importance of it was to be low-key, not draw too much attention to himself or his friend while they lived here, for various reasons, but as much as it had changed since the 40's, Steve was really beginning to miss Brooklyn. At least he didn't feel so lost there—no matter what was different. Still, he spends the day wandering unfamiliar streets, making a note of places he should drag Bucky to or things he should investigate further, and by the time evening rolls around, he's pretty sure he'd gotten lost. Asking directions back to his flat shouldn't be a problem, though deciding to do it in a place he originally thought was just a bar probably wasn't the best choice once he steps inside. (The name Guilty Pleasures might have told him otherwise too.)
He stares at the workers inside and promptly flushes a little, trying to turn around to walk himself back out onto the street. Of course things like this existed. Why wouldn't they? It had been a lot more discreet before, so much so that no one ever actually heard about it except in rumors, and even years spent in close quarters with a bunch of other men in the military didn't prepare him for that. But luck is never on his side because he's bumping into someone, getting caught in the small crowd of people near the door, and really, all he can hope at this point is that they don't mistake him for one of the dancers. ]
speed dating (probably)
[ He should be used to this. Right? Dating hasn't changed much since before the War, but most of his "dates" he'd been dragged to because of his best friend. He feels this isn't any different, sitting at a small table with a nametag pressed neatly to his shirt and his hands between his knees. Steve tries to sit up straight, but he keeps slouching forward, an attempt at sinking into his chair and looking as small as possible despite the fact it would never happen now. When the first person joins him, he makes an effort at conversation with a slight smile. ]
Hi. [ And he reaches forward like he's going to shake their hand. Are they supposed to do that? What were the rules to this speed dating thing again? ] It's nice to— [ Said hand hits a glass on the table and tips it over, spilling its contents all across the small surface, and there's no hiding the face he makes when it happens. ]
wildcard (yes)
[ Or pick your own! Anything goes. Hit me up @
Speed dating!
Relax, don't get so nervous about nothing.
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speed dating it is
Daryl Dixon | The Walking Dead | Shapeshifter (bobcat)
[Everyone had to make a living. Daryl's living was done at Hot Ostrich Custom Motorcycles. Yeah, that was a name and he'd almost refused the job over the embarrassment of it all, but they paid well. And, as he'd found out, did enough business that he could start trying to build his own cliente if he was so inclined to do. He'd been hired as a mechanic, not a builder, so most of his time was spent getting grease all over his clothes and handing keys back to the front counter when he was done.
But sometimes he was the one at the counter, like today.
Daryl pulled the keys out of the work order and handed both across, barely making eye contact with the client.]
244.
[He really hoped that wasn't going to be disputed. Someone had already tried pulling that shit with him today, saying they thought he meant USD to try and get a discount. He wasn't in the mood to continue with more of the same just because of his accent.]
Speed Dating
[Daryl had actually signed up for the stupid speed dating thing. Sure, he'd done it cause the idiot at the garage accused him of being too scared to and Daryl wasn't scared of shit
he was so goddamn scared the smell of fear was probably rolling off him. But he'd done it. And once it was done, he'd been expected to actually go.So he had. He'd even taken a shower first. Hadn't done much about combing his hair after or making sure his pants didn't have holes in the knees. But the jeans were clean, as was the shirt he'd cut the sleeves off of. The vest wasn't, but that rarely got cleaned because he wore it all the time. His boots he did the minimum of scraping the mud off of for.
And now he was here. Sitting at a table, staring at the person getting sat down across from him like a deer in the headlights.]
Wildcard
[Want to do something else? Hit me with it!]