londoncallingooc | Member Posts

Shannon was in the mood for something special. Felix wouldn't begrudge him a little romance for one evening. So before his lover returned home from work, he went out and purchased a multitude of thick, white candles. For dinner he stopped by one of their favorite restaurants and ordered take out. Back home, he set the candles on every available surface of their living room, making sure to remove any stray books of Felix's and return them safely to Felix's library. Then he set the coffee table with dinner on fancy plates that they ordinarily never used. He opened a bottle of wine to breathe and put it on ice. For music he selected something soft and wordless, good for setting the mood but easily lost to the background. Finally, it was time to prepare the most important detail for his setup: himself.

He selected his custom reproduction of a 1930's Charvet robe. The original had been gold, but he'd had the tailor make it in a deep red instead. Clothed in the gown and nothing else he lounged on the couch, positioning himself so he could clearly be seen from the doorway. Now all he needed was for Felix to come home.

just_hex

After leaving Fin's Hex had taken his time getting to the tube. He'd waited on the train and every moment that passed made him more and more queasy. He knew he needed to come clean with Danny. He knew he needed to accept responsibility for his actions. But he didn't want to. A big part of him wanted to go on without saying anything at all. Maybe Danny wouldn't notice.

He knew that wasn't true, though.

Danny noticed. Danny knew. He just knew things. It was impossible to lie to him, even moreso since Hex was a shit liar.

He finally came into the house well after dark and took off his jacket. He'd hoped Danny was out getting high but the lights were on and he knew the man was home. No avoiding this any longer, then.

"You home?" he called as he shed his jacket.

thenorthman

Eric had let Alcuin know he would come over an hour later, but he had underestimated how long his meeting would run. So it was a good hour and a half before he walked up to the young man's door and rang. He'd welcome a good fuck and some part-Fae blood to work some of the tension out of him, if only temporarily. He fucking hated talking to the Authority.

thenorthman

Waking up could be as gradual or as sudden for vampires as it could be for humans.

As long as nothing urgent claimed his attention, Eric tended to enjoy the gradual approach as much as he tended to enjoy every other aspect of life. With Godric in bed beside him, even more so.

When he began to rouse, he turned towards his Maker, instinctively aware of his presence. Arm slung over Godric's slim, bare waist, he nuzzled at his shoulder before settling down again, enjoying the fuzzy haze of the moment.

whispersoflove

Anael walked away from Crowley with a frown on his face, shoulders hunched as if bearing an invisible weight. As soon as he had the opportunity to disappear without anyone noticing, he cloaked himself and brought out his wings, rising high and fast above London. High enough that his breath fogged over, and then higher still, where the air was so crisp it felt different in his lungs - what would have been painful to someone else, no doubt.

He prayed. He played with the winds. He cried. And he forced himself not to despair, and prayed again. He felt so angry, and he didn't know what to do with that.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed when he touched down on Coby's rooftop, wings disappearing as he turned visible again. He felt wrong in a way he never had before, and no more settled for having just spent time flying and praying. He let himself into Coby's flat and tried to compose himself as he called out, "Coby?"

whispersoflove

If there was one thing to be thankful for, when it came to Anael's current circumstances, it was that they had been allowing him to be much more present for Alcuin than he otherwise would have been. He tended to lose track of time in Heaven, immersed in his duties, and did not always realise how much time passed between his earthly visits.

This was obviously no issue, and he had called on Alcuin regularly since Hannibal's death. If nothing else, focusing on the young man was a welcome distraction from his forced stay on Earth, and the demonic brand on his skin. A distraction he embraced wholeheartedly, especially in the presence of someone who did not know of his nature.

Today would be no different, never mind Crowley's revelations. They changed nothing, only gave his magical friends more to work on. So that afternoon, he composed himself, then rang his friend's bell at the time they had agreed upon.

finlay_flynn

It had been some time since he'd last spoken with Kersen, and it was that alone that had led the young fae to the vampire's club. He'd been a shit friend, as dreadful at calling and texting people as ever, and an impulsive visit for a chat and drinks had seemed like a good way to make up for his absence.

The place was as popular as ever, and when Fin hadn't spotted Kersen right away, he'd found himself chatting with some other vampires instead. Now and then his gaze would flicker to the bar or the piano, keeping an eye out for his friend, an act that didn't go unnoticed by the men he was currently drinking with. ...Or, rather, drinking near. None of them appeared to have ordered anything yet.

"Looking for someone?" one of them asked. He was, Fin assumed, the leader of this little group of friends. He'd been the first to speak to him, the one to insist Fin come chat. He was tall and quite handsome, if not a bit older looking than most of the vampires Fin had met so far. He'd seemed friendly enough though, even now as a slight frown curled his lips.

"Oh, um- Well, I was hoping to run into Kersen, actually. Do you know him?" Fin asked.

"Of course, everyone does, don't they?" the vampire replied. "Why don't we see if he's out back? Might have stepped out to take a call..."

Fin hummed a bit and nodded, not noticing the slightly put out looks on the other vampire's faces as as he got to his feet. "Yeah, I could fancy a smoke anyway," he confessed as he followed the bloke outside and around towards the back. "So, you know Kersen well then?" he asked once they were alone.

finlay_flynn

Fin hadn't exactly been avoiding Hex, but he hadn't made a point of reaching out to him much lately either. Things were just too hard most of the time when they were alone together. There was this friction between them, a spark that Fin found hard to ignore- Especially when it seemed to ignite his magic in a way few other things did.

This was business though, the team that was taking over all of Stanley's accounts- Or were hoping to, anyway- Had asked if Fin would reach out to Hex on their behalf. He could have said no, he was sure they wouldn't have been bothered, but Fin was shit at saying no to people still. That's how he'd wound up inviting the other man over for tea, and why he was currently standing in the middle of his kitchen, staring down his kettle while he relaxed his mind and body, reassuring himself for the millionth time that he could control himself better now. That he had his magic under control.

phouka

The Phouka had been to the library and he'd come home with many books. Books on sailig ships, books about puppies, a book about a monster at the end of the book. But the book he'd selected to read was a bright book with long pages and colourful illustrations. He was so adept at reading now that he didn't need to keep his finger on the page to sound out the words.

"My name is Nicholas and I live in a hollow tree," he read aloud. He smiled at the small bunny that had a gayly decorated tree house with a bright red door.

"Hello, Nicholas. I am the Phouka. I also live in a hollw tree," he told the book. "I live here with my truest friend an lover, Winter Wisp the pixie."

He turned the page and expected to hear more about the tree house.

"In the Spring I collect flowers." He paused at that news.

"It is Spring. I should collect flowers as well," he told the book. The Phouka looked around the gardens they lived in and wondered what he should pick. He wondered what flowers Winter would like most.

He closed the book and got up to take them all inside where he could ask Winter his opinion.

"Winter, we need flowers. It is Spring," he caled out.

whispersoflove

Anael still felt reluctant as he walked into the park, hands in the pockets of his jeans. It was a beautiful, sunny day, but he could not begin to enjoy it. Being here was grating, and he could not forget Crowley's words. Would an angel wilt, if cut off from Heaven for too long? Ever since the War, Anael had become a patient, loving soul, but now he felt his patience short more often than not, and irritation bubbling just under the surface of his feelings, ready to wash over them at any given moment. Was this what wilting would be like for him? Or much worse yet, was it the first step on his way Down?

If only he had any kind of lead as to the identity of those who had done this to him. He was not certain that he would be able to hold back his righteous wrath, but at least he would not have to go to the demon whose help he had turned down. Aziraphale had been encouraging, of course, mostly certain that Anael could trust Crowley on this matter, before he directed him to the park, and the ducks.

And there he was, throwing bits of bread at the ducks on the water. Anael had no doubt that Crowley had sensed him coming, even though the demon seemed to remain focused on the birds. He stopped beside him and admitted, because it was best to get it over with, "You were right. I need your help."

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London Calling OOC

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