thetube | Test Drive Meme: April/May 2016

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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 and canon 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) GOING UNDERGROUND. For some people, London is an escape. A place to be anonymous. A place to be themselves. Or a place to hide. Steeped in ancient magic, it attracts supernatural types from all over the world. Of course, that doesn't mean its inhabitants are always friendly to newcomers.

2) CHOOSE YOUR LEADERS. The Night Council election campaign is in full swing and on 5th May the supernatural community votes for its leaders. Visit any supernatural haunt and you'll find people arguing about who to vote for – not to mention the volunteers handing out badges and flyers in an effort to win your support. Try to keep it civil, folks.

3) THE PUBLIC WANTS WHAT THE PUBLIC GETS. (29th April) The Night Council candidates gather in a town hall in Westminster to explain why the supernatural community should vote for them. Traditionally a noisy and raucous event, it's your last opportunity to ~~heckle~~ question the candidates before the election. There are four separate Q&As: first up are the candidates for Shapeshifter/Meta Human representative; then candidates for Witch Representative; then Vice President; then finally the candidates for President will take to the stage. They each make a short speech and then take questions from the audience. Or if you want, you could just turn up for a free meal: in the room next door there's a sandwich buffet plus tea, coffee and fruit juice, so it's a good opportunity to mingle.

4) FIRE FESTIVAL. (1st May) The fire festival of Beltane is a time of celebration for witches, marking the beginning of summer. Come along to the bonfire for music, food and drink, flower crowns and fertility rituals.

5) SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES. (1st May) Beltane is also a time when the barrier between the human world and the Other Realm is at its thinnest, making it easy to pass from one realm to the other by chance. You might even have an encounter with the mysterious and mischievous fae.

6) WHAT'S DONE CANNOT BE UNDONE. You've gone too far, done something you know you'll regret. Maybe you ran away, broke a promise, even committed a crime. Maybe you've been supernaturally transformed. Either way, there's no going back.

7) WHAT ANGEL WAKES ME FROM MY FLOWERY BED? Oh, sweet mortal. There's an enchantment on you that makes you suddenly, devastatingly attractive. Especially to more magical types.

8) CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE. Anything goes.

Threaded | Flat

Meet and greet the Night Council candidates

This thread is for the speeches and question and answer part of the event. If you have a question or want to heckle any of the candidates, do so here.

For general mingling, feel free to write up your own separate prompt.

1. GOING UNDERGROUND
[It's been a while since he was in a country where he spoke the same language as everyone else. It's...strange, listing to background mutterings and realizing you can actually understand them. He hasn't gotten a single curious look since he got off the plane, and it's -- different. A welcome kind of different. The comfort of anonymity.

Well. Mostly. He's not exactly the most inconspicuous person in the world right now.

Bruce has been wandering the underground for a little while, looking at a messily crinkled paper where a vague list of directions has been hastily written. He looks like a fish out of water -- like he's completely, utterly lost. Which he is. Fresh off the plane and very, very new to London, the underground has quickly defeated him. It's nice, of course, to know he has a job waiting for him...but if he can't actually find it, it doesn't really do much good, does it?]

Excuse me. [He finally approaches the next person to make eye contact, offering an apologetic smile. From his accent, he's obviously American] I'm trying to catch a southbound train. [...] I...think. Can you tell me which track should I be looking for?

4/5. FIRE FESTIVAL
["Harmless festival fun" is never actually harmless, and so, Bruce attends this particular festival with no small amount of trepidation. Fire, dancing, loud music? Oh, sure. This will turn out great. But he's been told by colleagues, students, and basically everyone he's encountered since coming to London that he should get out more, and while he can, admittedly, be sort of a wet blanket, he'd like to think he can be a fun wet blanket. Sometimes. An occasionally fun wet blanket. (That's a thing, right? Is that a thing?)

Besides. Flower crowns. It can't get too rowdy when there are flower crowns involved. (... One would think.)

Still, he mostly hangs back from the festivities, watching other people talk and enjoy themselves. Lifting an eyebrow at some of the rituals. His hands are noticeably empty, shoved into his pockets for long stretches of time, toying occasionally with a balled-up receipt from something or other. Despite his reluctance to participate, when he catches the eye of someone who is --donning a flower crown, holding a drink, anything-- he offers a congenial, if slightly awkward, smile.]

Having fun?

[He is, perhaps, overly cautious, for some. And he hasn't had an...incident, in a while -- a year and some change, maybe. But he can't help it. He's so used to being guarded and careful, it's hard to let go of that.]

8. WILDCARD
[ooc; anything you want! especially interested in 6 or 7, but open to anything else, too. he'll be a biology instructor at Redbright in these scenarios, btw. throw it at me]

Edited 2016-04-29 03:13 (UTC)

2. CHOOSE YOUR LEADERS

Hello, good sir or madam.

[that's you. gina means you. shes holding out a button in your vague general direction, her voice only marginally above an outright deadpan.]

I get a feeling that you're on your way to vote, exercising your democratic right as a fair not quite citizen of this not quite country.

[the button is for joe the bear. it's a picture of a bear.]

Vote Joe the Bear, for a better future, or whatever. Or don't, I guess, but it's your loss.

4. FIRE FESTIVAL.

[welcome to the interpretive dance section of the fire festival. how gina, a metahuman, managed to convince a bunch of witches to give her an area to do an interpretive dance is really beyond anyone's guess, but she has it anyway. the dance she does is spirited, either about fertility or playing ball in the park on a sunday, or...well, whatever. just pretend like you know what it's about.

afterwards, you can catch her trying to give out flower crowns and getting wasted. go ahead and congratulate her on the great performance! you know you want to!]

8. CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE

[do the thing]

1. GOING UNDERGROUND

As Roddy slid his card into the reader at the turnstile, he thought about how much easier this would be if he could just shift into his rat form and slip in. No one would even be suspicious of him, running along in his little furry form. No paying to get in, no people pushing and clogging the way, just scurrying along the sidelines.

Of course, whenever he thought about that, his imagination immediately went dark with how wrong it could quickly go, and that wasn't even counting the fact that he'd show up to wherever he was going naked. He imagined people shrieking, stomping and him dodging for his life, and suddenly he'd start remembering why just paying the fee was worth it. Besides, he could read the signs better. Sure, he'd ridden the tube often enough, but tonight he was going somewhere he didn't usually go. Stopping to look at a posted map, he quickly confirmed which train he wanted to catch before heading over to wait.

There he waited, until the scent of something...strange grabbed his attention. Roddy's head snapped up, looking to identify who it was that smelled like that.

3. THE PUBLIC WANTS WHAT THE PUBLIC GETS

Roddy wasn't into politics, and he didn't really know too much about many of the candidates, what they stood for, or what difference their views would even make to him personally. What he was into, however, was free food. And while he was here he'd probably stop and listen to what they had to say. They were picking the shifter/metahuman representative, after all, so it was something that should concern him. Maybe there was something they'd say that would make him get behind a candidate.

For now, however, he was gathering up tiny sandwiches on a plate and grabbing a juice, his food pilfering inclinations being as strong as those of the creature he turned into. Listening in on other conversations to get the basics of what the issues were, he didn't want to look clueless in case someone might talk to him, he walked, looking for a place to sit down.

His dad should have come, he thought. He hadn't wanted to, because he was super paranoid about a lot of the sorts of things that could show up at an event like this. Vampires, witches...pretty much everything that went bump in the night and wasn't like them. Still, Roddy was sure that if he'd come out and see that everyone was just mingling, acting normal, and not ensorcelling or chowing down on each other, he'd calm down and, at the very least, enjoy the free food. As things were, he didn't even want Roddy coming. He'd had to lie about where he was going.

Some day he'd convince his dad to come around. In the mean time, however, Roddy had found a seat. He hoped no one would mind a teenager hoarding a bunch of sandwiches.

8. CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE

Edited 2016-04-30 02:42 (UTC)

1. GOING UNDERGROUND

[Merrill is still feeling kind of queasy from that flight from Bristol into Heathrow Airport. No one told her planes would make you sick! It was her first time on one, and she's not planning on hopping on another anytime soon. She's traveled enough in her short (long) life, thanks.

She squints at the map on the wall of the Underground, trying to figure out which way she is supposed to go. She traces lines with her finger, then realizes she got mixed up (despite it being color coded) and tries again, then realizes she doesn't understand where she's supposed to stop at all because it doesn't really say Islington anywhere, now does it? She opens a large paper map of London and tries to cross-reference it with the map of the Underground, pointing a finger from one map to the other, but is quickly growing frustrated.]

Ach, Jiw!

[She whirls around and accosts the nearest person, and if her cursing in Welsh didn't give it away maybe her accent might.]

Excuse me! Yes, you, could you tell me which is this one? [She holds her paper map up and points unhelpfully at Islington. Decades spent in Welsh and English cities, and still a Welsh village girl at heart.]

4. FIRE FESTIVAL

[Merrill does still celebrate Beltane, quietly and with candles instead of bonfires after her turning. When she heard there was to be a big celebration, and with little to fear now that she's protected by Islington Nest, she excitedly went to participate.

Unfortunately, once she's there, she's a bit disappointed by her inability to get into the spirit of things. There's music and dancing, but she hasn't danced in front of people in decades, and definitely never in front of anyone she didn't know and trust not to make fun of her. She finds herself standing around in corners, staring longingly at flower crowns and the bounty of food, and really this is all an exercise in guilt and bittersweet-but-mostly-bitter nostalgia.

Maybe she should leave.

In a last-ditch effort to actually have fun, she attempts to strike up conversation with the nearest person.]

Um, can't believe it's already summer, eh?

[It's not the most thought out attempt. She's never been the best at small talk.]

1 London. Goodness, she missed it. Growing up in Crawley and spending so much of the last hundred-or-so years traveling But London was her true home. Years ago, she'd done so much for the city, with her brother Jacob at her side. But it had been some time since she'd seen him, and even longer since she returned to London.

But with the civil unrest, mostly amidst the witches, Evie knew it was time to return home again. Her train hide-out was long gone, but one of the good things about being a vampire was you tended to have quite a bit of money at your disposal. It was helpful.

Even the air here smelled different, thick with magic and smog. Sometimes it was hard to tell the two apart. With her daylight ring securely on her finger, Evie wasted no time in beginning to wander the streets again, identify what had changed, what was the same. Get to know the neighborhood again, if you will. And as always, keep one ear to the ground.

4 Even Super Serious Vampires can have fun sometimes. So it was a witch festival- Evie tried to keep out of their politics when she could, but unfortunately, witches and assassins tended to have a long history. Still, Beltane was an important holiday, and if there was a celebration going on, she was going to enjoy it.

Evie keeps to the shadows, watching, listening. It'll take some work to get her to loosen up a little, but she's willing and determined to have fun. She deserves it, after all.

"Buy a girl a drink?" That's one way to do it.

8 [you call it!]

1. GOING UNDERGROUND
[ one supposed that Flint would consider this a homecoming of sorts, setting foot in London again after all this time. of course, there was nothing left of the city James McGraw had left behind in his disgrace a little over three centuries ago.

walking the world and watching the British empire implode did give him a measure of satisfaction, and for a while, he'd rather enjoyed his vantage point in Russia — right until the shift in the power structure happened and generalized incompetence took over. and if there was one thing Flint had learned the hard way, it was when to cut his losses.

so here he was. he figured his first order of business would be to introduce himself to the local nest, and he would do just that— once he'd managed to make sense of the winding paths and possibly dangerous alleys that make up the Underground. he doesn't like being lost, especially in a place like this, where allies were yet to be found and the potential for ugly confrontation far too likely — and sure enough, the moment he catches a whiff of what is decidedly not a human, he slows his pace, body tense, making ready to grab the poor fool. ]

4/5. FIRE FESTIVAL

[ if Flint were perfectly honest with himself, bonfires had a certain nostalgic appeal, to him. nights like these, he could close his eyes and almost think himself back in Nassau— and he'd end that train of thought right there. he opens his eyes instead and focuses back on his surroundings. in his experience, feasts and orgies, while not necessarily his favorite pastimes, made excellent settings for all sorts of alliances. and he intends to use this to his advantage.

he'll grab a drink and, with a quiet laugh, mutter: ]

Nothing like the promise of a good lay to bring out the best in people, I suppose.

[[ooc: permissions & warnings post is here! ]]

[4]

[Nathan would be the last person to claim he knows anything about witches, but he certainly wasn't expecting this festival to be as pure and wholesome as it is. Everyone here seems to actually buy into all this fertility bonfire flower bullshit. And he's going to complain about it to anyone who'll listen.]

Awww, what? Are you telling me there's an enormous party out here with a bonfire, and everyone's just singin' songs and wearing flower crowns?! Whatever happened to drugs and bad decisions?

The only thing we ought to be burning here is skunk!

[6]

[Nathan, in contrast to his usual behavior, is actually rather quiet right now. He's sitting on a bench in Hyde Park with the hood of his sweater pulled over his head and a ratty, old duffel bag that looks stuffed at his feet. One might even mistake him for a homeless kid (which he might well be now, but no, no, he's not even going to entertain that thought right now, it can't be that bad).

Right now he's alternately trying to call his mom on his mobile, and gripping the phone tightly in the hopes that he'll get a text or a call back.]

[8]
[Look, this is Nathan. I'm sure we can justify absolutely any wild antics you could possibly come up with. Come at me, bro.]

1. GOING UNDERGROUND

[ Navigation has never been the problem. Even with the sudden shift in circumstances that brought him to London, after a long time spent avoiding it, Silver still made it a point to be well-informed upon arrival. Transit systems were much the same anywhere; it was simple enough to adapt to this one. Not that knowing how to get to his final destination made traveling inside a train any easier.

What would normally be a mild queasiness was compounded by the lack of seating available and the ache in his stump that had only worsened as the day continued. Wearing the prosthetic may have been a miscalculation, but the thought of traveling with a crutch was worse. His balance was obviously off, but Silver continued to hold onto the strap above his head with a grim sort of determination. Pain was something he was used to managing, and he'd weather this.

He's distracted, but not enough to have avoided noticing the other strange presence here, especially since the crowd has pushed them practically on top of each other. Today he would be content with ignoring each other, until the train stops unexpectedly. Suddenly, the thought of standing here with nothing to focus on but his leg and stomach seems unbearable. He'll send a quick grin in their direction, because geniality has always taken him further than unpleasantness. ]

My bet is on signal problems.

2. CHOOSE YOUR LEADERS

[ Politics only interested Silver when they effected him, which in this election seems to be not at all. What does hold is interest are the various supernatural haunts throughout the city, which is why he suddenly finds himself holding various flyers and wearing a slightly bemused expression. The volunteers hadn't allowed him to get a word in, while expounding on the virtues of their candidate. ]

Well, democracy appears to be as charming as ever.

[ The flyers are carefully deposited onto the nearest table. There was a certain irony to being back in England and just as disenfranchised as before. There were times when he missed how egalitarian one man, one vote was. Everyone could be and were still bought and sold, but at least voting amongst the crew had pretensions towards equality. ]

Edited 2016-05-02 15:26 (UTC)

[Nb. Mogget is a witch's familiar bound to serve Circle Midnight. But mostly he is a cat who hates you all.]

1) GOING UNDERGROUND
[Mogget always knows. He can sense magic around him, recognize anyone supernatural who might walk by as easily as he can see in the dark. The cat is watchful, patrolling the streets of Circle Midnight's territory and sometimes beyond, taking note of anything or anyone new.

Someone catches his attention, someone who shouldn't be lurking in these parts. The cat stalks along a high wall, calling down to the intruder:]

You don't belong here.

4) FIRE FESTIVAL
[Every year. Every year someone does this. Someone makes Mogget wear a flower crown. It's slipped down his neck and over his collar so now he can't shake it off. Look, he doesn't care that it's Beltane. He's seen it a thousand times before: it's just an excuse for humans to get drunk and cop off with each other in the bushes.

He slinks over to the bonfire and the fire seems to flare up when he approaches. Mogget stares into the flames, green eyes reflecting their brightness. Maybe someone will take pity on him and remove the flower crown. Or maybe they'll leave him alone.]

5) SOMETHING WICKED THIS WAY COMES
[It's days like this that Mogget misses his true home in the Other Realm. He can practically smell it, the magic of the fae, cracks in reality that open up all over the city. There's one nearby now, perhaps a door or a window or just a crack in the pavement and he pauses in the middle of the street to sniff the air, whiskers twitching.

He can go right up to it, even look through into the place he once belonged, but he can't step across the threshold. That way is forbidden to him.]

Edited 2016-05-02 16:29 (UTC)

1. Going Underground

The dark is home to Eponine. It feels like so long since she's felt sunshine on her face. It has been a long time, she supposes. She doesn't know how long. Time is transient to Eponine: she doesn't age, things don't change, ever, so what does it matter? Newly arrived in London, she skulks through the shadows, sticking firmly to alleyways and ginnels, narrow, winding streets full of dark doorways and those heavy metal communal - no, commercial bins that provide shelter from the burning sun when she's in a pinch. It's good to note an escape root, she thinks.

She wriggles her shoulders in her fake leather jacket. Some of the pleather is flaking at her shoulders, where the straps of her tatty rucksack have rubbed, but she doesn't care. It's about the warmest thing she owns anyway. Does it bother her that she's here alone, with next to nothing to her name? Yes - she supposes it does. But what is to be done? Here she is, and here she is quite alone. She needs to find somewhere to shelter before daybreak.

In the heavy silence, the crunch of bin wheels over cracked pavement sound as loud as the gunfire when he'd tried to kill her. She shudders as the lid clangs open.

4. Fire Festival

She stays away from the shadow, away from the light. It's not that she doesn't want to feel it. She doesn't know where to go. So she stays on the edges, clutching the pretty flower garland that had been pressed into her hand, watching the other people have fun.

As the night wears on, she finds herself drifting to the food stands. She stares, miserable for a minute. It doesn't bring her joy, not any more. There was a time when she would have killed for this. Now, quite literally, she does have to kill her prey.

She's soon to work though. Eponine's not daft. She knows that she's not the only homeless teen on the streets, and she knows too well that starving hunger, that urge to eat that is so violent that they'd trust anyone, even a strange, pale girl with unusual teeth, as long as she is offering a morsel. She pockets as much as she can stuff into her jeans and her too-big boots, glancing back every now and again to make sure she doesn't need to make a run for it.

2 Election season was always messy, and this one was no exception. Lannister Corporation had a good deal riding on the outcome, and like all good Daybreak witches, they were hoping for a Norrell win. The rise of the Midnight witches was causing more unrest than any of them would like. Her father, the CEO of the company, had his eyes and ears out for any bit of information he could find, putting pressure on their allies at Baratheon Enterprises to do the same. The result was tension mounting in the office and, even more so, in Cersei's own home.

Which is precisely why it's lunch time and she can be found at the local restaurant, a glass of wine. If you look close enough, you'll notice her papers contain finer details about an upcoming fundraiser for the Norrell campaign. Apparently she was the one best suited to party planning in the family.

4 Ah, Beltane. One of Cersei's favorite holidays, though few would expect it from a woman who carried herself as nobly as she did. But there's a crown of flowers, reds and gold, sitting on top of her Lannister-gold hair. Her children, Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen, were off dancing somewhere, or so she hoped. knowing Joffrey he was probably terrorizing some poor child, and she'd have to step in at some point while she still could reign him in. Sometimes it seemed that only her husband was keeping him in line.

No, Cersei loved the sun, the turn from Winter to Spring. Winters here were too long, too cold, and she longed to feel the sun on her face. Now, she'd get her wish.

1) CHOOSE YOUR LEADERS

Democracy is still a novel concept to Annalise. A millenium spent as sole monarch of Cainhurst lands, and now she's brought back to a world of democracy and capitalism and it's all so bizarre.

She sits in a bar — one of those classy wine bars that google had told her was nice — but people at the table next to her are arguing about this upcoming election. It's... Distracting. And annoying.

"Does it truly matter?" She asks, half inquisitive and half annoyed, "how truly different can the candidates be from one another?"

2) WHAT ANGEL...

An enchantment, you say?

This mortal smells... Sweet. Like sunlight and berries. Fresh dew settled on the first flowers blooming at the dawn of spring. Impossible to resist.

She follows, unused to hunting her own prey, but the way her body moves comes easily like a buried instinct. Smooth and slow as she approaches the source of the smell and slips up close to the delicious smelling mortal, voice honeyed and slick.

"Human," she drawls, quiet enough only the two of them can hear, "do you know you carry the scent of spring on you?"

WILDCARD come at me, yo

1) Fire Festival

[Who doesn't love a festival? Vivienne certainly does. Dressed in luxurious reds and whites with a flower crown of red dahlias and gilded ivy, she looks like someone who could step through fire untouched by the flames. It's hardly unintentional.]

[She moves through the groups with a glass of sparkling wine in her hand, enjoying the celebration with an easy grace.]

Quite the display, no?

[Bonfires in May? Amazing the rain hasn't put a stop to things.]

2) SOMETHING WICKED

[As much as she enjoys the city, there are things about London that Vivienne is far from a fan of. It's proximity to the Other Realm, for instance. It's closer than Paris at the best of times, and now? The veil is so thin even she can feel it.]

[Not that she's paranoid, but her tutelage was full of stories about the fae. About the dangers they pose to mortals — to witches in particular — and how best to protect oneself from them. How to cut through their lies and their deceit, and how to harm them. There's a reason her wand is tipped with iron, after all.]

[She doesn't feel the magic she expects, but she knows there's someone else here, and with the way things are tonight... It's not a surprise. But she learned battle magic for a reason, and she slows to a stop as she walks, trails of condensation coming off her hand the only hint as to the sudden drop in temperature around her.]

Good evening. [Her voice is smooth, cordial almost.] Nice night for a stroll.

WILDCARD Watchu want? Watchu need? Baby I got it.

1. THE UNDERGROUND

Due to poor planning, Thomas did not find himself safely holed up in his home that day. Fortunately, instead of finding himself in the new form of a small pile of ash, he managed to duck into the subway tunnels before anything went too terribly wrong. And that was where, apparently, he'd spend the day. That didn't mean the day was wasted, however. Oh, no. Armed with a pass that would allow him to take as many trips as he wanted, Thomas could travel all over the city if he wished. And that was exactly what he'd do. Because of this, the young vampire could be encountered waiting for almost any train in the city, looking at a map and getting to know the layout better. He'd walk the interconnected pedestrian tunnels as well, learning and exploring a side of the city that he'd previously ignored.

At a certain point, he discovered the fact that the Science Museum had an underground subway entrance. So of course he went, and killed a few hours entertaining himself there (and carefully avoiding any room with windows) before heading back out to ride the tube...again.

4. THE FIRE FESTIVAL

It was celebration. It was bright lights and song and dance. It was fertility rituals and romance. It was exactly Thomas's sort of thing. So he wasn't a witch, and he wasn't even capable of getting someone pregnant due to his undead status, he was all for doing the rest of what they were celebrating. Besides, unlike other vampires who had lived for centuries, Thomas still had a brother who was alive. While he doubted his brother would be in London, seeing as they were both from the States and it would be one heck of a coincidence if they both moved here, he did know his brother was a witch and the fantasy of one day encountering him in a place like this often motivated Thomas to show up at places like this.

Well, that and the attractive individuals who attended these events, their minds more open and receptive than they may usually be due to the wild and untamed atmosphere. Thomas wouldn't harm anyone in this place, of course, though if someone did prove...amorous, he may take a small snack. Not enough for them to notice, and certainly not enough to cause harm.

Turning toward one such attractive individual, he smiled his best, most charming smile. "Enjoying the festivities?"

PICK YOUR OWN ADVENTURE

3. The Public Wants what the Public Gets
Sitting and taking notes during the final town hall isn't too unusual, Reines likes to think. At least, she believes it shows no small amount of due diligence in wishing to meaningfully participate in republican matters, and showing an active interest in the politics of London.

Reines also believes she has a huge hand cramp from writing so quickly and on such a small notebook. The writing continues throughout the entire event, making no distinction between the speeches and Q&A. Mixed with quotations are personal notes, some a bit rude and the others a critique of how a particular matter is handled. Norrell is given no small amount of ink with his aggressive stance (Counterproductive) while Nora's have more notes of agreement than anything else.

But that's all nothing compared to the presidential speeches, which end up requiring Reines to take out a second pocket notebook before the whole thing is through. Come the end of the evening, Reines' hand is well and truly cramped, and she leans back in her seat towards the exit, letting her perfect facade fall for a moment to reveal how tiring she finds just listening to all of this.

4. Fire Festival
Reines knows one truth, if there is any: Beltane is the best time to check in with allies. As a result, Beltane is the absolute busiest time of year for a young witch with no small amount of ambition, and that means she isn't at one or two Beletane celebrations. She is at all of them she can possibly get to, spending her time politely nibbling on whatever food's available, taking small sips of wine and nursing drinks so she can remain stone cold sober, and talking politely to anyone she pleases.

There's a goal in all of this - assess the pulse of things. It's an election season, which means that plenty of things can change in a few short weeks. She's happiest listening to others voice their opinions, while carefully ensuring that she says precious little about her own. Where things go in the next few weeks and months to come will impact what she does. There's family expectations to start genuinely entering politics now, and Reines expects confrontations if she doesn't take advantage of the current climate.

So she circulates. She talks. And most importantly, she listens.

5. Something Wicked This Way Comes
The festival is done for Reines, as far as she's concerned. She appeared, she spoke to people worth speaking to while keeping an eye on others, and now, now it's time to go home and take advantage of how thin the line between worlds just so happens to be. After all, a practitioner of summoning magicks would be a goddamn fool not to take advantage of tonight and perhaps get in contact with a few fae.

But then, Reines knows, she has just as much a chance of walking into one on the street as she makes her way back home. So rather than take the tube back to Kensington, she walks, her heels clicking along quiet residential streets. She hums to herself, something light and airy with no particular lyrics, her pale blue eyes ever alert.

a) Going Underground

They always run.

Gretel thinks it as she hoists herself up a partially down fire escape. She takes the rungs two at a time, desperate not to lose sight of her quarry. Thankfully, she's just trying to outrun a human tonight. A witch, specifically. One who saw a shadow on the roof, stopped, pulled out a wand, and let loose a spell.

Behind Gretel, something had turned to stone and clattered to the ground, hit by the magic that had passed through her.

She took a knee and removed the crossbow from her back. She loaded a bolt and took aim. One deep breath, a mental count, and she fired.

The girl below her ran a few more feet, lunged forward, and fell to the ground. She didn't get up or even move in the slightest.

"Another one bites the dust," she murmurs, almost musically, smirking. Then, she puts the crossbow onto her back again. "Gonna have to get that cleaned up."

b) Something Wicked This Way Comes

[Beltane. Crap. She hated Beltane.

The fae were bad enough on a normal day, but on Beltane? They always did way too much damage. Too many people being too stupid. They liked to think they could mess with the fae and get out unscathed.

Fucking idiots.

But she was following the sense of magic, of a thin spot between this realm and the other. Which meant a fae had to be lurking somewhere nearby.]

Where are you, fucker? [Her voice was low, an irritated mutter.] You're not getting anyone on my watch.

[Because that was the name of the game: luring mortals into the Other Realm. And she wasn't letting it happen. Not where she was, at least.]

c) What's Done Cannot Be Undone

Move.

[She almost growls the word.

This fae needs to be killed, and she has her gun out. Bullets made of iron are just as effective as crossbow bolts tipped in them. The silver medallion around her neck glints. But she's not talking to the fae. She's talking to the human standing in front of the woman she's really after.]

Five. Four. Three.

[The count is methodical and even.

The man? Doesn't move.]

Two. One.

[Still nothing.

So, fires twice. Two shots, two targets. And both are struck in the head and fall. Thank God for silencers.]

I warned you. Fucking idiot, throwing your life away for a fae.

d) Choose Your Own Adventure

(Want something you don't see? Hit me up with a starter or for one!)

Going Underground

Wanda Maximoff pulled her hood a little tighter over her head as she slipped among the crowd all headed underground to the Tube station. She had earbuds in her ear, but the phone they were attached to wasn't playing anything. It gave her a better excuse to try and ignore everyone.

Or, at least, it might have been if someone hadn't decided to run right into her.

Which sent her staggering down the steps, into a couple of people, and finally hunched over against the wall. There were a few dirty looks and a few concerned stares, both of which Wanda waved off as she tried to regain her balance.

She swore under her breath in her native language, and a hint of red magic prickled at her fingertips as she considered revenge.

The Fire Festival

[She's attending out of curiosity. She's heard of Beltane before, but she's never ventured out to try and see it for herself. So, tonight, she's among the witches of Daybreak and the students of Redbright.

She even has a flower crown. And a glass of wine.]

What's that?

[She wonders it aloud as she spies some of the food being offered.]

What's Done Cannot Be Undone

[The news still aired the story. Not as much as when it had first happened, but the accident in Greece had gained some traction. Thankfully, there were no good shots of the 'terrorist' who had thrown 'grenade' into a police station.

Which wasn't what had happened at all.

Well, she had thrown an explosive at the police station, but that was because there'd been a vampire stealing in. No doubt they'd been invited during the day. If she hadn't done something, everything would have been dead. But that wasn't what the grainy suveillance cameras showed.

Wanda tried to ignore the international segment, instead sipping at her bottle of beer in the bar. It tasted awful, but it was alcoholic, and it was cheap.]

Things are depressing enough. Do they have to show that?

[It's too suspicious if she doesn't say something about it. Especially since (vague though it was) the description and sketch the authorities had could said to bear a passing resemblance to her.]

Wildcard

(Hit me up for a prompt or with a prompt!)

3) THE PUBLIC WANTS WHAT THE PUBLIC GETS.

Laurel watches each of the speeches from the back room, a notebook in her lap that she mostly ignores in favour of looking bored and slightly annoyed whenever the crowd starts jeering. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head whenever a candidate makes a particularly outlandish claim, and sometimes she nods thoughtfully when they say something reasonable for once, but for all her attentiveness she never once actually participates. She's more interested in watching for now, and when the angry witch beside her stands up to shout in protest she bows her head and hides her face in second-hand shame.

When there's a break, Laurel seems just as uninterested in initiating social interaction as she did participating in the question periods. She picks at the buffet without much restraint (she may never have activated her curse but man is she ravenous), people-watching a little, but generally finding the teeny sandwiches far more engaging than her fellow attendees.

4) FIRE FESTIVAL.

[It's a stark difference at the Fire Festival, where Laurel has been dragged by a couple of her witch friends from school. She's not actually all that bad at socializing, in fact she's smiling and laughing and dancing even before the first drink hits her. She only gets a bit tipsy, but it's enough to make her clumsy as she bounces around the party like the social butterfly no one thinks she is.]

[She may even bump into you, but she'll laugh and touch your shoulder and apologize before asking you if you're a witch. It's a whole new world for her, alright?]

8) CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE.

Just do it.

Going Underground

This whole "out" supernatural thing is weird. Maybe Toronto had its own supernatural community, but he hadn't known about it, definitely. He certainly hadn't known that the international law enforcement community knwe about him and had its eye on recruiting him. He'd thought he was just going to work with the feds until his first briefing.

That was when the word technomancy had been used.

With all the trouble in London, that was where Spike had been stationed by his very strange branch of NATO. A 'Special Ops' branch that, apparently, was staffed by supernatural beings and oversaw international relations and incidences. And apparently there was trouble enough in London to warrant a small presence.

And, well, he was still in training.

Which, for the most part, meant blending in. And trying to ignore how much he missed his team.

"Oh, c'mon. Not today. Don't do this today."

But, no, the ATM is not working.

And no one looks too closely, so…

Spike acts like he's inputting his PIN again. But, really, his mind is searching the code, finding the error, and--

"Bingo."

Out comes his card and the money he wanted to withdraw. Easy.

"That's a good girl," he says with all due affection to the machine.

Choose Your Leaders

"Thanks, but -- yeah. Not able to vote. Sorry."

Elections.

It's kind of… nice? At the same time that it's really, really weird… to know that the supernatural community is just the same as the mundane one when it comes to that.

Lots of politicians, lots of lying, and lots of promises. Not specifically in that order.

And the supporters are even worse.

Currently, he's trying to dodge a girl giving out 'Support Norrell' buttons.

"Not registered, not a citizen. Sorry!"

Fire Festival

Okay, a party? A party, Spike can handle. Especially when it's pretty damn tame. Nothing illegal so he doesn't even have to call and check in. After all, he's got a pretty long leash with things that might possibly be relative to his surveillance job, which apparently this Beltane celebration is.

Whatever.

All he knows is he's had good drinks, and someone, at some point, put a flower crown on him. Which he doesn't really mind.

"Gotta admit," he offers, laughing, "the only part that makes me nervous about this whole thing," he'd already said it was his first time at Beltane, "is the whole 'fertility ritual' I heard someone mention. What's that about?"

What Angel Wakes Me…

Today? Has been a good day. Ever since that woman on the subway had helped him pick up his bag, things have just been going his way.

The barista gave him a free coffee, the first taxi he hailed stopped for him. It's just been a good day.

And he's ending it out at a club.

Work hard, play hard.

Especially when working hard is sitting at a desk and reading memos all day long. Or doing routine programming without the coding. Definitely not what he's used to or what really feels like making a difference. But booze and music help.

Wildcard

Surprise me.

1) Going Underground

London.

London.

How many years has it been? He doesn't even know, now. Ten? Maybe more. But, oh, one never forgets London. Nor does it ever really let one go.

The Tube was still the central transport system. Some things never changed. Still, the lines had, to some degree.

"Best route," he muttered to himself. "Conduit Street. Conduit Street..."

Was it smart, wanting a flat so near the home he'd once had? Probably not. But he had access to money again. There was no reason not to treat himself, reestablish the life he'd so enjoyed.

2) Fire Festival

Being a witch's familiar meant he'd seen Beltane plenty before. Which was why he'd sought out the celebration himself. Besides, if James did return, he'd want to be kept updated.

Not to mention there was alcohol and sex offered up liberally.

Base? Yes. Very.

But he'd lived without for long enough. Tonight, he could indulge.

"Enjoying the festivities? It's been awhile since my last Beltane."

3) What's Done Can't Be Undone

"Shit."

He could hear M in his head, chiding him for losing his temper. It had onto gotten worse after prison, and his stint back at the mastermind's side hadn't helped.

But there was a man lying on the ground, possibly dead. Definitely unconscious.

They'd been in a fight in the bar, and they were in an alley just outside it.

The damned man had recognized him. Called him 'colonel' and everything. Refused to relent. He'd tried to let it not be a fight, but it'd come to it. And he'd made it plain he'd beat the man until he shut up.

4) Wildcard

(Hit me with your best shot.)

1) GOING UNDERGROUND.

Say hello to one of the supernatural world's least friendly inhabitants. Sure, it could be worse, she could be one of those morally corrupt, immortal vampires who literally feed on human blood, but at least those can be scared off with a bit of silver. Jessica's not deterred so easily. The quickest way to get her to leave this bar she's in, for instance, would be to tell her there's no booze left. Even then, she'd raid the back rooms before she took her leave.

It's not like she shoves her bad attitude anyone's face, though. She's just trying to get by in this city. Trying to make a living, trying to pay rent, trying to get the bartender to bring her some whiskey.

Seriously, where is that bartender with that whiskey? She hits the bar with her palm, just to make some noise, and shouts, "Hey! What, do I have to take my top off to get a drink around here?"

7) WHAT ANGEL WAKES ME FROM MY FLOWERY BED?

[Yeah, yeah, it's hilarious.]

[People have been falling over themselves for her all day. She usually gets a creepy come-on here or there, but this got suspicious around the third or fourth comment about her "everlasting beauty," and Jessica has finally figured out that she has been "gifted" with some kind of dumb enchantment. The fae she screwed over with her last job retreated to the Other Realm, apparently, so she can only assume they were responsible, in which case they should certainly never come to the mortal realm again if they're interested in living out the rest of their immortal life.]

[After a long and arduous conversation with a witch, she finally got them to figure out how long this shit is going to last, and on discovering it should wear off by tomorrow morning she decides to buy some booze and spend the night in.]

[Which would be just great if this train weren't delayed. Won't you come talk to this unreasonably attractive woman waiting on the platform?]

8) CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE.

Hit me up! For this and the two above I will match style if you prefer brackets or prose!

a) Going Underground

His beautiful London. How he'd missed her, even if he'd been gone for a relatively short time. Still, Lord Coward didn't regret leaving.

His sire had needed him, and old habits died hard. One's place on Beltane was important, and he still preferred to spend his in the presence of Lord Blackwood. Besides, it made the bitter pill of the 'election' easier to swallow. It was, no doubt, the 'lord' in him that ruffled at the idea of not being able to stand to represent the Nest. He had a hundred ways he could spin it to Millicent, but, of course, she'd hear none of it even if he tried.

A few letters and a further handful of phone calls had seen him properly restored to his positions in the House of Lords and the seat of Commissioner. A small vacation, that was all. It had been easy enough to arrange for that to have been all the records showed he'd taken.

As for the Nest, well… His Sire had called. No one could begrudge him going to the man.

Now returned, his home has been turned into something of a waystation, somewhere new vampires in London are encouraged to announce themselves before doing it to the Nest proper. Which not everyone does, but he still likes to maintain something of an order to it all. Others, of course, call on him for matters both supernatural and mundane. Which is why he's in his study today.

His secretary is a young man paying for law school -- good-looking but unfortunately uninterested in men -- who shows in his visitors when they arrive, announcing them first.

"Please, have a seat," Coward murmurs. "What brings you here this evening?"

b) The Art of the Hunt

The Countess of Dunbar kept a fine home and a wonderful table. That Lord Coward, Commissioner of the Police of the Metropolitan, should be her guest was only natural. The rest of the party had blood just as blue as their lively hostess, and it was one of the minor ladies whom Lord Coward had led into a secluded part of the house.

She'd been drinking heavily, and getting her alone was a matter of murmuring the right words. She let him at her neck without the slightest of hesitation, and he bit into it carefully.

She was too drunk to understand what was happening to her, and, consequently, didn't scream. Once he'd had his fill, Colin carefully flicked his tongue over the wounds to heal them and picked the unconscious woman up. He laid her gently on the couch, arranging her to let her sleep off the drink and the wound.

A touch to the corner of his mouth with an old-fashioned handkerchief took care of the blood that remained there.

c) Wildcard

(Hit me with a prompt or request something special!)

[Nb. Guenièvre is a young fae, whose father rules the Seelie Court in France.]

1. GOING UNDERGROUND

The man is still behind her. Guenièvre doesn’t need to look to know that. She can feel him back there. He’s keeping pace, perfectly mimicking every change of direction she makes.

There is power flowing through his veins. But this is no daybreak witch; he reeks of dark magic. This means he’s probably not following with the intention of haranguing her back to Faerie. So, what else did he want? And how long has he been back there? How far has he followed her? She first noticed him after leaving the métro, nearly five minutes ago. But what if he’d been down there too, hidden from her senses by the throngs of people?

A fae is not without power of her own, but she doesn’t want to risk a public spectacle. Besides, the longer this haze of dread blankets her mind, the more certain she is that he will not be so easily overcome.

Then, just as she is about to break out into a full-on run, she catches the eye of a stranger and decides upon a different course of action.

“Oh, there you are!” She waves hello and rapidly closes the distance between them. “Have you been waiting long? I did not mean to be so late! I was lost in the underground. Can you believe it?”

Guenièvre embraces her “friend” and places an air kiss to the side of each cheek. While doing so, she whispers, “Please play along. I am being followed.” She pulls back and looks her unwitting savior in the eyes, hoping they understand and will oblige.

4. FIRE FESTIVAL

Guenièvre arrives early and intends to stay late. This is her first witch festival of any sort in England, and she wants to experience every moment that she can. Although it may not be the wisest decision, as being a fae at his sort of gathering could be a risky proposition, but she’s up for the challenge. As the result of a glamour, she appears the same but subconsciously most others perceive her to be nothing more than another welcome member of this community, someone who belongs here, no need to question her presence.

At first, as an extra precaution, she keeps to the edges of the gathering where she’s less likely to draw attention. Eventually, when the festival wears on, she becomes bolder as the crowd grows wilder and more inebriated, drunk on wine and love, the rational mind dulled while emotions run wild.

Those closest to Guenièvre are a bit more boisterous and a touch friskier thanks to her empathic prodding. It’s nothing insidious, just a little push, a heightening of what was already being felt.

Anyone whose head is not adorned by a flower crown she accosts immediately.

“Here, for you!”

This gift of a flower crown placed gently on the head is followed by a light kiss on the lips.

“There. Much better!”

8. CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE [Prefer something else? By all means.]

Edited (((Holy extra space, Batman!))) 2016-05-13 06:33 (UTC)

1

It's been some time since anyone of Altaïr's bloodline has walked the streets of London, oh there have been Assassins throughout the city for centuries that have put their boots to it's rooftops. Much as he generally prefers warmer climates, Altair has felt the shift of things in the city that draw his attention.

He smoothly hops the turnstile, landing lightly on the pavement and keeping on his way towards the trains.

Altair is dressed like nothing more than any other 20-something, easily able to blend in with whatever crowd has gathered on the platform in the early evening rush home. Ignoring the way his eyes catch gold anyway.

5

Altaïr isn't afraid of anything that will slip from the other side to the mortal realm. He's armed tonight anyway, an iron blade ready beneath a sleeve. There's a casual sort of predatory air about him as he prowls the streets of the city, hooded and light of step.

"Not a night you should be out alone." He greets whomever happens to cross his path, scarred mouth lifting in a half grin. "Things come out on nights like this."

8: as the eagle flies

The rooftops of London are as fine a place to travel as the streets and subways, far less crowded as well. There's an occasional clatter as a loose tile slides free in his passing to mark it, and a flash of shadow flying over an alley.

For those who do manage to get up to the rooftops to join him, they're greeted with a wide grin. "Race?"

Edited 2016-06-10 10:01 (UTC)

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THE PUBLIC WANTS WHAT THE PUBLIC GETS

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