(no subject)

Sep. 19th, 2017 09:38 pm
handfulofsapphires: (02)
[personal profile] handfulofsapphires posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Nicaise had first seen them through the large glass window of the dance studio. Lines of girls, poised and graceful, moving in synchronized turns and leaps, performing to music he couldn't hear in front of wooden bars. It was the first dancing he'd seen in Darrow that was close to the sort he knew from home.

It had taken him a week to bring it up with Laurent, a week to decide if it was what he wanted. He had a complicated relationship with his home, his therapist said. Nicaise tried not to think about it too much.

They were dance classes. Ballet. He joined a beginners coarse for teenagers, though he was warned that he would probably be unable to learn pointe, which involved dancing on the tips of your toes. Since he hadn't been practicing since he was very young there were development issues with soft tissue malleability and skeletal structure that couldn't be altered.

In other words, he was too old.

You have a complicated relationship with your age, his therapist would have said. Too young to be a real pet, the youngest looking in his class, too old for the Regent, too old for pointe. He would show them. If there was even the smallest chance of learning pointe, he would master it.

Nicaise knew dance, he'd been trained in it since he came to the palace at the age of ten. Though what he knew wasn't ballet, it was near enough, and he proved his skill in his first class, if not to his teacher and peers then to himself. It was something he could do and be good at, and though he was new to it he didn't feel as out of place as he did in school. The boys in ballet didn't tease him the way the ones in his high school did. They weren't loud and disgusting, either. They weren't gangly, they were graceful. They had class. Unlike Teddy Greenfeld and his stupid, ugly friends.

He looked out for them now as he left at the end of class, black sweatpants over his tights, a hoodie over his white tank top, sneakers instead of ballet shoes. They weren't the clothes he preferred, but he certainly couldn't be seen in public in tights. He slung his small duffle bag over his shoulder and headed for the bus stop to catch a ride back to High Gate. He was so distracted keeping an eye out for potential bullies that he nearly walked right into someone.

"Watch it," he blurted out, sorry not being a word that ever immediately came to mind.

(no subject)

Sep. 19th, 2017 09:37 pm
shok_ebasit_hissra: (Default)
[personal profile] shok_ebasit_hissra posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
July 6, 2017:

"You would find a house with a tower," Bull said as he looked up at the building, a smile tugging at his mouth. It almost reminded him of the main building of Skyhold in miniature, and somehow that seemed like it would suit them both of them.

In which Dorian Pavus and the Iron Bull find a house that fits them both.

[ HERE | on-going | so far pretty PG ]

August 13, 2017:

"Dorian?" he called as he nudged the door shut again, listening for movement in the house. Dorian's words had been shivering down his spine since their tussle: I have plans for you and that smart mouth of yours.

In which Dorian and Bull... let off some steam.

[ HERE | on-going | NSFW adult content ]

but in some ways they remain the same

Sep. 18th, 2017 04:56 pm
light_of_the_world: (e10)
[personal profile] light_of_the_world posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
September 7, 2017:

"You're such a violent person," Thomas said, sounding mock chastising. "First the tree, then the walnut, now the shoe. I'd hate to live with you, shank. Wake up in the morning to a broom handle in the back for some reason."

Hild and Thomas needle each other and chat.

[ HERE | complete | PG ]

Darrow Mini-Con 2017

Sep. 18th, 2017 02:19 pm
citycouncil: (looking up)
[personal profile] citycouncil posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
With fliers and posters and cheaply made local access advertisements on late night TV cropping up only in the weeks before the ONE DAY ONLY Pop Culture Extravaganza it was surprising just how many people lined up for tickets that Monday morning. Darrow's Convention Center had been rented out in its entirety, with the expansive main room serving as the convention floor, while other, smaller rooms were reserved for odd guest panels and signings.

Most of the guests would've been unrecognizable to anyone not from Darrow. There were the writers of Space Hospital, and a few of the lesser known guest stars. Also on the roster, were the artists and creators of an incomprehensible comic book series in its fifth reboot, about a vigilante ferret with dark pasts and daddy issues, teamed up with a mute, Icelandic princess from the future, fighting the demon hordes of some 5th dimension, galactic Hell. There was a panel on writing the Darrowian Experience, whatever the hell that meant, and a slightly offensive panel about the pros and cons of the Outsider Perspective on Media Today.

On the main floor, there were booths and tables set up, some with handmade wares and amateur artist prints, mostly of unusual and strange characters from equally strange comics and television shows. There were SQUID!! hats and posters, sets of The Graveyard Shift figurines (the variant set with a mint Vincent Blaylock going for $500). There was Space Hospital memorabilia, and Super Power Guy, and just a few recognizable characters scattered in with the knock-off superheroes that seemed just a little too close to their "outside world" counterparts. There were booths dedicated entirely to Tiffany Charlotte and Todd Chad, which all seemed to have the longest lines, selling t-shirts and pillows and posters and records, and even plushies from the short-lived Saturday morning cartoon, Tiffany!

And there were costumes. Professional cosplayers and kids trying out their Halloween costumes early, and people just trying something new. Some were familiar, others weren't, but all of them were at least fun to look at.

Darrow's Pop Culture Extravaganza! ran well into the evening, vendors putting out 50 cent comic boxes as they got ready to close down their booths for good. Tired kids carrying bundles of goodies in their arms, followed by harried parents, shuffled their way out the door. Hardcore comic fans met and exchanged numbers in the lobby, some of them planning to meet up at the local bars later that night.

For just a few more hours, wearing the faces and clothes of their favorite characters, they could all pretend that they wouldn't have to go back to their real lives in the morning.

[[Impromptu Pop Culture Convention at Darrow's Convention Center! Tag in, tag around, no limits!]]

(no subject)

Sep. 18th, 2017 08:07 am
notonemoment: (Default)
[personal profile] notonemoment posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Sept 2017:

Even though Gannicus said they were likely to have been fighting dogs, the red beast was a gentle thing, sweet, friendly. He gravitated against Agron's side, and Agron would not wish to be parted from him even if he thought he could be.

Agron is surprised by (and in turn surprises Steve with) a new doggo.

[ HERE | ongoing | surprise pups? ]
shok_ebasit_hissra: (Default)
[personal profile] shok_ebasit_hissra posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Bull stared at the pile of familiar gear. He'd been walking through the park and he'd almost missed it. He was taking the familiarity of his surroundings for granted, not paying attention to familiar sights and sounds the way he normally might. He could have walked right by it - or was there something about this place that would have made him notice it, no matter what?

He moved closer, looking around like he expected someone to appear and explain - a messenger, an assassin, a ghost. Something from his past that might come to bite him. But nothing came, and he was standing in front of things he hadn't seen in over a year.

A year, he realized. He had been in Darrow for over a year now, and somehow that time had passed with relative ease. He had been thinking a lot about Thedas recently, about everything life behind, about the decades of his life piling up. And here was a reminder of all of it: his gear, some of which he'd had since Seheron, since his first assignment in the Ben-Hassrath. He already knew what was in the trunk, knew his writing desk would be tucked away into it with unfinished letters, knew the small odds and ends he kept with him, but still. He had to see.

With a grunt he eased down on one knee so he could open the trunk, revealing armor and weapons he hadn't touched in too long. He stood up again and hefted up the maul that had been leaning against the side of the trunk - a weapon made to fit someone his size. His good eye gleamed dangerously, and it took everything in him not to give it a practice swing.

"I don't know if this is a great day or a bad omen," he said out loud.

[Find the Iron Bull in the park - he's just received his gear from home and he's probably having some flashbacks, so try not to surprise the giant Qunari holding a maul. Great time to meet him!]
worstsin: (Default)
[personal profile] worstsin posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps

It had been two hours. Geralt could have infinite patience if he wanted to, mostly because he'd been forced to learn infinite patience, under Vesemir's tutelage. But it had been two hours of making what seemed to be constant, nonsensical loops, since Geralt had run into the creature.

There was some kind of illusion going on, but the details of it, Geralt didn't know.

He'd caught it eating out of a dumpster, by complete chance. It hadn't been a contract he was hired for, and he hadn't been intent on hunting it down. He'd just smelled it -- by that complete chance -- and gone after it, mostly out of curiosity to learn more. There were a lot of things in Darrow that he wanted to, knew he had to, learn more about. For his own safety, more than anything else.

It wasn't a pleasant-looking or pleasant-smelling creature. It reminded him, almost, of a fiend or chort, but it wasn't either of those, and it was at once smaller, less threatening, and more uncomfortable to look at.

It was gangly, boney, unlike hefty fiends. The legs reminded Geralt of a deer, ending in cloven hooves, and unnaturally long, as were the arms. The torso was largely humanoid, but the head -- it was human, but only in a vague, stomach-turning way. It looked more like the face of a horse, long, with eyes far apart on the sides of the head. It had long, scraggly, thin hair growing like a mane, and at the end of the long snout, large, flat yellow teeth which were too big for the mouth, and hung out past the lips even when the mouth was closed.

An ugly son of a bitch.

When it noticed Geralt approaching in a sneak, close to the wall, it had let out an unpleasant, frightened howl, and taken off into the darkness. Geralt had set off in quick pursuit, but quickly found himself lost. The smell of the thing seemed to be coming from every direction at once, and no matter which direction Geralt turned or how many turns he took, he seemed to always end up back at the original dumpster.

"Hate illusions."

[ get stuck in the tikbalang's loop with geralt. in witcher fashion, the tikbalang is a lot like its folkloric counterpart, except with some differences. in this case, it'll only let you out of the loop if it feels you're vulnerable and no threat. which means geralt and your pup will have to get completely naked. yes. don't tag this is you're not prepared for your pup to get completely naked.]

it's got me reeling, i need a clue

Sep. 17th, 2017 09:26 pm
ahollowman: (for my mother)
[personal profile] ahollowman posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
God, it had been shit couple of weeks.

With back to class, all of his summer interns had gone. He might claim not to be a fan of the internship program Panoptes ran, but that would be untrue. Tony only pretended not to appreciate having all the kids around, the chance to mentor college engineering students. The truth was, very apparently, that they were filling in for something his life was sorely missing.

He tried not to put thought into that. He hated examining himself.

Henry Cheng had gone, too. Hopefully back to where he belonged, and his goons, and his Robo-Bee, and his mother. And that was fucking great for Henry Cheng, Tony was glad, woo-hoo, but also Henry had been providing Tony that something that was sorely missing as well.

And Tony felt even sorer for it.

The company needed restructured, and that was fine, the lawyers could handle that. They were professionals. But Tony's life had started to fall into disarray also. His office was an incomprehensible mess to anyone but himself, dishes had piled up in his sink at home. It was all unusual. There were ways in which Tony met the archetype of the rarefied genius, caught in his own head -- but he usually kept immaculate surroundings.

It was depression. It was obviously depression, even if his therapist hadn't straight-out told him so and started suggesting treatments.

But at least Hallowe'en was coming. That might be nice. He'd always loved it, exceedingly more than holidays like Thanksgiving and Christmas. It was a holiday for drinking and partying and eating too many Tootsie Rolls and dressing up and pretending to be something you weren't which, Jesus, Tony was good at.

He stood outside the pop-up seasonal costume store, thinking about going in just to look around, because that was actually fun, when he spotted it.

The plastic mask, the familiar colors, grinning up at him.

He grimaced.

"Red And Gold Metal Armor Man?"

(no subject)

Sep. 17th, 2017 02:03 pm
ghostsarereal: (pic#11340804)
[personal profile] ghostsarereal posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Dated September 9, 2017:

Edith can't quite place what it is, but the way he stares, it isn't difficult to tell that something's wrong. She draws in a breath for it, quick and sharp, her mouth curving into a frown. It would be easy to keep walking, look elsewhere, write all of this off as some strange encounter and probably never think on it again. She can't quite bring herself to, though — manners, maybe, too deeply instilled in her from an upbringing in another time, or concern, or curiosity, or some combination of the three.

Edith meets Harley, to whose sister she bears an uncomfortable resemblance.

[ HERE | ongoing | pg ]

Dated September 10, 2017:

She's distracted enough in her browsing that she almost doesn't notice someone else nearby, not until she hears his own name. She looks up, then, the glasses she seldom wears perched on the bridge of her nose, and smiles at the sight of a familiar face. Everything about that night — the party with the masks, the evening she and Merry first kissed — seems permanently etched in her memory now, and she can't say she minds.

Edith and Magnus talk about books and the past.

[ HERE | ongoing | pg ]

Dated September 12, 2017:

Better than one of the two of them tackling it alone, still so hopelessly out of their own times. There's an easy kinship to be found in that, something that she's noticed has been a foundation of a good number of her friendships here.

Edith accompanies Serena (and George) on a trip to Törgt to look for furniture for Serena's house. It is, needless to say, a strange experience.

[ HERE | ongoing | pg ]

Dated September 14, 2017:

This time, she's in the laundry room — alone, because of course she is — when she sees him, standing in a shadowy corner, watching her with dark, intent eyes. The sight of him out of the corner of her eye causes her to gasp, but Edith exhales, relieved, when she turns and sees a familiar if somewhat translucent face. "It's you," she says, and chances a step closer, her laundry forgotten. He doesn't quite nod, but his gaze, such as it is, stays fixed on her, as if attempting to communicate with his eyes what he can't with words. She nearly smiles, trying to seem reassuring. "I haven't forgotten you," she promises. "I want to help you, if you'll let me."

In the laundry room of the Bramford, Edith encounters a ghost she's seen before, and shares a little about it with both Lyall and Ed, respectively.

[ i, ii | ongoing | pg ]
literaryimmortality: (more covfefe)
[personal profile] literaryimmortality posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
I don't know what I'm doing here. I don't know what I'm doing in Darrow, of course, but more specifically I don't know what I'm doing in one of its cafés waiting for potential interviewees for a project I'm maybe stupidly determined to work on.

I'd decided a while ago that I wanted to write about Darrow's origins and mysteries but more than anything, I now want to write about its people. The ones that have come from elsewhere, the ones that have been forced from their homes and their families and their entire worlds with no choice but to embrace this one. I want to know about their befores, their nows and whether they have hope that they'll ever get out of here. If they want to.

I want to know everything about them because I don't want to think about me. Not right now.

After all that time on the Avalon with Hawkeye, I've been forced to confront my own reality in a new light. For some reason or another, I've been brought to Darrow twice. I don't know whether it means something or it's supposed to mean something, but I want it to. I have to have a purpose. I can't live without one. I don't think anyone can.

So I've put out ads online and a few flyers around the area with my contact information and a vague call for Darrow's non-locals. I know it's a controversial subject for the actual locals and the last thing I want to do is offend anyone, but that seems to be the nature of journalism – or at least it always has been for me. I still intend to be as soft as possible and not take advantage of the situation and the information that's offered to me, but this is a story I need to tell. The one of our journey – together.

After all, I'd been writing about a different journey not all that long ago. The one of Jim and mine. Maybe one day I'll write about us again, maybe that will be the final chapter if I ever manage to finish this project I've barely even started, but I'm not ready. I don't want to dwell on him. I'd realized that when I was back on the Avalon and when I was with Hawkeye. My life is not Jim. It never was, even when it felt like it. Even when he made me feel like it.

I'll think about him because God knows I can't help it, but I'm saving my words for whoever turns up today. If anyone turns up today.

And if they don't, well, I have coffee.

[Find Aurora at a café of your choice in Darrow. She's put out a call online and also a few flyers for anyone interested in a writing project about Darrow's arrivals from elsewhere. Your pup can have responded to one of those or just find her with her laptop and caffeine by chance. Closed unless we've spoken, thanks.]

(no subject)

Sep. 16th, 2017 11:13 pm
losttheright: (chasing visions of our futures)
[personal profile] losttheright posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Dated April 1, 2017:

With their hands entwined, Han leads her up the boarding ramp, gesturing grandly as they enter into the main corridor, and there's not much to see yet but he's still proud of his ship all the same. "Here we are," he says, jabbing a thumb to the right and nodding for her to follow, even as he's already gently tugging on her hand. "This way to the cockpit, that's going to be the first stop on our little tour. It's my favorite place on the ship."

After the Founder's Day party, Han takes Molly back to the Millennium Falcon.

[ HERE | ftb | pg-13 ]

Dated September 12, 2017:

She's turned it over and over in her head, and comes to the same conclusion every time: it's kind of perfect. Jessica will have a child here. She'll be able to see Abigail grow up and know that she'll be happy and healthy without having to be a parent — just a friend of the woman who's about to become her mother, a known entity in some regard but not a caregiver. And with as long as she's spent thinking about it, she knows she won't regret it.

Molly and Jessica finalize Jessica's adoption of Abigail.

[ HERE | ongoing | pg, mentions of unwanted parenthood and postpartum depression ]

Finally alone, Molly considers going to a bar, but then pulls out her phone instead, firing off a quick text to Clarke. She may as well have a little company. It's less depressing than drinking alone. Everything's finally settled. :) Wanna come celebrate with me?

With everything settled, Molly and Clarke go out for drinks.

[ HERE | ongoing | pg, same warnings as above ]

Dated September 15, 2017:

It's only a coincidence that she's near her lawyer's office when she decides to stop for lunch and a coffee, already in the area and remembering the café that Rebecca had showed her. With that being the case, though, it isn't much of a surprise to see Rebecca herself inside, and Molly smiles as she walks towards her.

Molly and Rebecca run into each other and catch up.

[ HERE | ongoing | pg, same warnings as above ]

(no subject)

Sep. 16th, 2017 02:52 pm
notverywise: (and you're not coming back)
[personal profile] notverywise posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Dated September 16, 2017:

She flips past a few envelopes, a couple of bills, something clearly asking for money, a menu from a restaurant that's opened nearby, and then her heart drops into her stomach.

Mr and Mrs David Goldman, the address reads, and there are any number of them. She knows without having to remember vividly what the specific pieces of mail looked like that she's seen them before, found them crammed into a glove compartment while she was merely looking for a cigarette, about to celebrate her engagement to a man she didn't know was already married.

Jenny receives an unpleasant reminder of her past.

[ HERE | ongoing | pg ]
literaryimmortality: (pic#11619558)
[personal profile] literaryimmortality posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Mid September, 2017:

Just the thought that we could be stuck here and that this isn't some elaborate trick of our minds or cruel prank pulled by the people who built Darrow starts the panic setting in all over again. It's with one anxious glance that I meet Hawkeye's eyes again before starting around the corner. I need to get away from the pods. "I'm sorry, I can't be here any longer. Not right now."

Aurora and Hawkeye awaken to find themselves aboard the starship Avalon.

[ HERE | ongoing | some discussion of trauma ]

Sailing away, away...

Sep. 15th, 2017 01:28 pm
noldorinqueen: (Default)
[personal profile] noldorinqueen posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
 Returning to Valinor had, for such a long count of years, been nothing more than a far-off dream for Galadriel. At times she had begun to question whether her fate would ever move in that direction again, But with the final and utter defeat of Sauron, and having passed the test of wills that Frodo's unexpected offer during his brief sojourn in Lothlorien proved to be, she was bound at last for home. A final journey to return to the Blessed Lands and live out the rest of the world's days in peace and bliss, accompanied by the Ringbearer and her old friend, Mithrandir. They were some of the last to take a ship West, and there was much joy, mingled with only slight hints of trepidation, from the anticipation of seeing the shores of so wonderful a realm as Valinor - for some, it would be the first time, whereas for others, it would be a homecoming. A smooth journey it was, thanks to the fine ship and the marginally finer mariners, and no complaints were to be had all along the way.

Thus it came as somewhat of a surprise when she awoke from an afternoon's hazy slumber to find herself alone in the ship, drifting slowly towards an unfamiliar shore, beyond which lay a settlement of strange design. Never before had she seen such peculiar towers, and such varied forms of architecture, all gathered in one place. It was marvelous to behold, though it also presented somewhat of an enigma. This clearly was not Valinor - she could not make out any familiar geography, nor any of her kin. It could not be Tol Eressea, either. If it were so, then surely the Teleri would have welcomed her, or at least shown themselves. She looked around the ship once more, to see if anyone else was left, but she was indeed alone. One thing did catch her eye, though, for its marked difference from the items she knew had been on board.

There was a curious collection of manuscripts, alongside which aar. Some of the terms were unfamiliar to her, such as the mention of an 'apartment' Was this the doing of Ulmo, perhaps? Was she to be denied her return, despite all the trials, despite the atonement of her many years? Or did he have some grander purpose in mind, and she was to be the instrument of his work? Neither option appealed all too much, and so she tried to clear her mind of what anyone else might want her life to do at the moment, in favour of once again taking her own path. 

Crunching softly against the sand, her ship finally drifted ashore, and she descended gently from it, surveying the immediate area as well as the nearby sky-line. Various people were scattered around nearby, but she did not know what to ask them just yet. She took a step forward, bare feet enjoying the feeling of wet sand underneath, and began to walk slowly, deliberately, with a fairly proud gait in the direction of this settlement. If she was going to remain here for some unknown destiny, then she was not going to do it by hiding in the shadows. 


(no subject)

Sep. 15th, 2017 06:14 pm
andhiswife: (trepidation)
[personal profile] andhiswife posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps

Her smile widens when Saoirse shyly offers her a folded bit of paper that's almost the same color as her cast. "For me?" she asks, accepting the offering, and then sinking into a crouch so she can be more on Saoirse's level. "Did you make this?"

Saoirse makes Greta a thank-you card, and gets more of a reaction than she anticipated.

[ HERE | ftb | cuties ]


It's not easier this time, or better, it's just different. She doesn't cry as much, because she doesn't have the energy for hysterics anymore. It's less like being tempest-tossed and more like being adrift, gritting her teeth through the intermittent swells of sorrow or bitter self-recrimination until the waters still again, and she can get on with things.

Greta gives Saoirse some bad news.

[ HERE | ongoing | sad cuties ]
unlimitable: (troubled)
[personal profile] unlimitable posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Every time Korra tries to put this off, Toph Beifong's voice echoes in her ears — that maybe she wants the metal to stay in her body. Maybe she wants to continue wallowing in fear. As much as Korra wants to justify delaying this process because of the shooting pains it sends throughout her body, each passing day makes her feel like the anxiety sinks further into her skin.

Any day now, Zaheer could show up in Darrow. Darrow is a city that runs on hierarchy, where most of the population takes the Mayor's words to heart, and even if bureaucracy doesn't outright block people from the government, getting an audience with an employee can take days. Weeks, depending on the department. It's the kind of system that Zaheer hates — he wants everything to be equal, everyone to start on the same playing field, even if it means taking out a few limbs or people to get there.

She has to be ready for that possibility. She has to be at her best, honing her bending technique every morning. But she can feel the weight in her limbs, the metal coursing through her veins, sending little spikes of pain throughout her body whenever she's about to deal a final blow.

If she can't even come out with a clean win against a stationary figure, how can she ever expect to best Zaheer in battle?

So Korra finds herself in the middle of the city park this morning, tucking herself away in the most secluded section of bushes and trees. Naga curls up beside Korra, head heavy on her front paws as she watches her human. Korra's legs are folded underneath her, crossed just above the ankles as she takes deep breaths in and out, relaxing her shoulders, feeling the blood course through her body.

"I can do this," she whispers under her breath, then raises her arms and starts to push.

Palms press against air, slow and steady, and beads of sweat start to form on her shoulders and neck. The metal passes through her arms, her calf, pounds in her temples. With a grimace, Korra pushes her palms out with more force, a couple beads of sweat flinging off of her fingertips. Her breath catches when she feels it, metal pressing up against her skin.

she's on her knees again, among the rocks and sweltering desert sun, but the air around her is crisp and cold and getting thinner, thinner as he pulls the air from her lungs, and she can't breathe and she can't

"Agh!" Korra shouts, doubling over, her arms pressed up against her stomach as she stops bending. Another failure. Her eyes burn in shame as she takes a moment to simply rest her forehead to her knee, trying to gather the will and energy to try again.

[ find korra in the park, sitting cross-legged, trying to bend metal out of her body. in spite of appearances, this is a good time to meet her. open until this reads otherwise! ]

[meme] test drive

Sep. 15th, 2017 11:58 am
citycouncil: (oncoming train)
[personal profile] citycouncil posting in [community profile] cityarcade
Tag into this post with characters you're thinking of apping to the game (characters who are not currently in-game or currently reserved by someone else). It can be just a tag, a brief EP, whatever you want. You can be new to the game, or simply want to test out a fresh pup. Tag each other with these characters or those already in game, and have fun.

Also, please include the name of their canon somewhere in or on the comment or on their profile page.
shuck_you: (t02)
[personal profile] shuck_you posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
September 4th:

Disappearances weren't all too unfamiliar for Thomas. Between his friends back home who'd died during their perilous trek through the Scorch and the people here who were here one day and gone the next, Thomas was pretty experienced with loss. That didn't mean he didn't want to help those he cared about when someone they were close to disappeared.

Thomas goes to check in on Tris after Isabelle's disappearance.

[ here | ongoing | pg for some sad talk ]

(no subject)

Sep. 15th, 2017 05:58 am
mynameiscassie: (uhh?)
[personal profile] mynameiscassie posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Aug 21, 2017:

That was how I found myself at Jack's. I'd never thought of myself as someone who might like girls. Well, before coming to Darrow, I'd never thought of myself as someone who liked anyone other than Jake! Everything was changing, and I needed to talk to someone about what the heck was going on.

Cassie has a crisis of sexual identity, and Jack helps her out.

[ HERE | ongoing | awkward adorable talk of girl kisses ]

(no subject)

Sep. 15th, 2017 05:39 am
andeverythinginbetween: (Default)
[personal profile] andeverythinginbetween posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
May 22, 2017:

She sighs, allowing herself a moment of homesickness. She's done her best, so far. She just wants to pretend that this is another job, some errand Kesh sent her on. Find me a pocket universe with lots of weird shit in it, she'd say. Easy as cake, Kesh, Vetra would reply, and Drack, listening in, would say, That's pie, Vetra.

Vetra finds, and uses, the Mailbox to Somewhere Else

[ HERE | ftb | none, really ]

July 20, 2017:

She goes for a run to see if that helps, and ends up just feeling a little more panicky than she had before. So she starts sparring with an invisible partner, trying out familiar moves and moves that might work against people of different sizes. She's panting by the time she's worn out, and she walks back to her apartment slowly, hands shaking slightly.

A cranky Vetra bumps into a Bull that don't want to hear it.

[ HERE | ftb | none ]

(no subject)

Sep. 15th, 2017 05:24 am
hebeimmortalized: (Default)
[personal profile] hebeimmortalized posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Aug 22, 2017:

Nina popped out of her seat when she heard an order called out. Inej had introduced her to this cafe that managed to blend breakfast and dessert and she decided she would probably just live here. Their waffles were wonderful, and if she was honest with herself, she was starting to fall in love with their French toast as well. SHe didn't know who the French were, but their toast was amazing.

Two girls walk into a waffle house and order the same thing.

[ HERE | ongoing | language? ]

Date on which the post is set:

Jillie is feeling pleasantly sore in places and ways she hasn't in way too long. Paul's gone to work, and she's letting herself out so she can get some cigarettes, some condoms, and a candy bar. Her clothes — which are actually his clothes, because she'd gone to his apartment in a bikini — are haphazard on her body, but she doesn't even care.

Jillie bumps into Paul's neighbor and they have a conversation that should be awkward, but totally isn't.

[ HERE | ongoing | talk of sex and other stuff ]

(no subject)

Sep. 15th, 2017 12:50 am
to_survive: <user name="videnda"> (066)
[personal profile] to_survive posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Darrow is fantastic, that much Bellamy is certain of, but it's also fucking awful.

It's not necessarily this one employer's response that has Bellamy fuming by the time he steps out of an office building into warm sunshine. It's more the straw that broke the camel's back, the last thing he needs to hear before the point is hammered home, making him feel small and worthless.

He's an outsider.

Bellamy can't really blame them; if he were in their position he'd be reluctant to hire someone with virtually no background beyond 'was a space guard and space janitor and led a band of one hundred kids in a small war.' That he can understand. What hurts is the apologies, the different ways he's heard we can't hire you if we can't perform a proper background check, the silence from those who didn't even bother to return his follow up phone calls.

So he's wasted a hundred dollars taking guard classes and getting certifications, and he has to wonder if any of it was even worth it.

Clarke would say it is, to keep moving on, and it's that alone that keeps Bellamy from letting the flame in his gut grow and flare until he ends up doing something stupid. There's still a danger of that happening, so Bellamy forces himself to start walking away from the office building and only indulges in sending the empty windows a middle finger as he walks off.

First, a bar. Then, maybe after a drink or two he'll text Clarke the news and pick up some comfort food on the way home.

"Hey," he calls out to the first person that walks by, "you happen know where the nearest bar is?"

[Not a bad time to meet Bellamy, despite his grumpiness. Open to all until this says otherwise!]

(no subject)

Sep. 15th, 2017 03:46 am
outofspace: (vlcsnap-00019)
[personal profile] outofspace posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Dated September 6, 2017:

She's better at observing than belonging, at documenting from a distance than inserting herself into the middle of things.

In the months since she's arrived here, though, a few very distinct things have changed, and one is that she actually knows people. There aren't many she could claim to know
well, but as she's never been overly social, that's enough for her, her handful of friends and acquaintances. It's all she ever had in New York, anyway, and with the people here, she's gradually finding that she doesn't have to pretend quite as much.

Therese and Hild discuss photography and the changing weather.

[ HERE | ongoing | pg ]

(no subject)

Sep. 15th, 2017 03:36 am
itsdarkcorners: (220)
[personal profile] itsdarkcorners posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Dated March, 2017:

It's kind of fantastically normal. At least, it's what Karen imagines normal to be, having realized with increasing certainty that it is not a word that much applies to her life. It didn't in New York, it didn't before she came to New York, and it definitely doesn't now.

Karen and Tony go for a bike ride in the park, catch up, and very nearly get caught in the rain.

[ HERE | ftb | pg ]

Dated September 6, 2017:

With journalism, she's found something that feels right, like pieces falling into place in her life, a calling she didn't know she had. With John and Harold, though, she gets to make a real difference, something more active than she would be doing otherwise. She'd sacrifice neither for the other.

So she's sometimes spread a little too thin. It isn't like that wasn't the case back in New York, and at least she isn't letting down people counting on her in the process.

Running into each other for the first time since Lois's arrival, Karen and Lois inevitably talk shop.

[ HERE | ongoing | pg ]

(no subject)

Sep. 15th, 2017 03:33 am
pointzerothree: (pic#1774102)
[personal profile] pointzerothree posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Dated August 20, 2017:

Moving isn't something they've fully committed to yet, but Olive thinks it's likelier than not. It's a little sad, really, to think of. They've lived in this house for so many years now. It's the place where Eduardo proposed. But as the years wear on, they find more and more reasons to look for somewhere new, somewhere away from the noise of downtown, with more space for the pets and for the family they'd like to have someday. It's still early for that, but it's something to take into consideration as they look for new possibilities. If they move somewhere new, they're going to stay there.

Eduardo and Olive go house-hunting.

[ HERE | ongoing | pg ]

(no subject)

Sep. 14th, 2017 11:10 pm
frozenfractals: (pic#11613966)
[personal profile] frozenfractals posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
early August, 2017:

Geralt sensed, somehow, or recognized something in her -- something that reminded him only too keenly of Ciri. She was not a sorceress, she didn't seem to use magic in the way a trained woman might. She was not a witch either, or a Source, though he sensed there was something terrible and powerful about her magic that had her here, alone, at night, trying to leash it and let it out at the same time.

Geralt meets Elsa practicing her magic.

[ HERE | in progress | n/a ]

August 18, 2017:

She's much smaller than Elsa remembers, but it's her. And besides, Elsa is somehow small, too. The how and the whys are beyond her right now. All she can do is keep her hands curled into tight little balls as she looks over the edge, trying to keep the power inside.

Elsa and Jess wake up very small.

[ HERE | in progress | anxiety mentions ]

August 18, 2017:

"I could do all sorts of tricks on a playground!" Jessica said, scampering to the top of the door, then casually flipping away from it only to catch herself on a line of webbing tossed up to the ceiling, swinging like a pendulum.

Tiny!Jess swings by to visit the Saverins.

[ HERE | in progress | n/a ]
thetoastofmayfair: (I come alive at night)
[personal profile] thetoastofmayfair posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
early August, 2017:

Sally invites Lincoln to join her for a swim at the beach.

[ HERE | in progress | contains Sally Bowles ]

(no subject)

Sep. 14th, 2017 08:06 pm
cutyouthefuckinhalf: (Default)
[personal profile] cutyouthefuckinhalf posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Aug 30, 2017:

The letter arrives a little unexpectedly. Sara isn't even officially moved into the house, yet, and it's sitting on the windowsill when she walks into the kitchen. She doesn't even realize what it is, at first. It's sitting there, folded up to look like some sort of bird, and all she can think is that someone put it there.

Sara receives a letter from a contrite zombie child.

[ HERE | oneshot | none ]

(no subject)

Sep. 14th, 2017 03:46 am
train_baby: (026)
[personal profile] train_baby posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Dated September 7, 2017:

Tonight, she's a little tipsy already, making her way from one club to another, smiling to herself as she heads down the sidewalk, arms out to her sides. Near the door, down the block, she catches sight of a familiar face and smiles. Sally has always been good fun before; she doubts now will be any exception.

Yona and Sally go clubbing.

[ HERE | ongoing | pg-13 (alcohol and probable drug use) ]

(no subject)

Sep. 13th, 2017 05:05 pm
akindofnecromancer: PB: Krystal Jung (Default)
[personal profile] akindofnecromancer posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
The necropolis is a curious place while Sabriel is trying to relearn the Charter here in Darrow. She can feel it, as she's always been able to feel the dead, but it's a curious sort of thing. Despite the dates on a number of these tombstones, nothing feels nearly as old as it ought to. But this is the place where Death is the nearest, and it makes it easier to work with the Charter, even if Sabriel hates thinking about it like that.

"Mogget, keep up."

The white cat, who had stopped to sniff at some weeds rumbling across a name placard and ended up curling into a little ball while Sabriel wasn't looking, peeks up his nose. Sabriel waits a moment. Finally, Mogget unfurls and stretches, though it just makes Ranna jingle softly on his collar, and Sabriel finds herself yawning a little as well.

"I wish I knew how to fix that," she says, mostly to herself. Mogget says nothing, but does come up, and then leap up onto her back to get to her shoulder. It takes a moment for them both to settle.

Eventually, they reach it: a large mausoleum with an elaborate wrought iron gate. Sabriel has been working at getting the gate open for days, building up a slow Charter spell that weakens the metal. She's almost through, she thinks. And she rather hopes that nobody comes by when she does finally get in there.

This is one of the most authentic feeling graves in the whole necropolis. Sabriel's sure her father would look disapprovingly on this very basic necromancy, but in this place, where the Charter feels strange and watery and weak, it's less about the dead and more about knowing that she can do something.

She has no intentions of going into Death, after all. Not when she still only has four of her Bells.

Mogget sniffs, vaguely, near her ear.

"What?" she asks.

"Nothing," the cat drawls, and drapes across her shoulders lazily. "You need to work on the bottom right a bit more. Shall I go stand watch?"

"You'll only fall asleep," Sabriel points out with a sigh. But she scoops him off her shoulders gently. "Try to keep your eyes open a little while, would you? I don't want someone thinking I'm up to something...nefarious."

"But you are up to something nefarious, Abhorsen."

Sabriel rolls her eyes and gives him a gentle little boot. Mogget avoids it, wandering back toward the tombstone he'd been investigating before he'd fallen asleep. She does hope he'll keep a weather eye out.

For now, she bends down to the metal, working in slow bursts to sketch out the Charter as it forms in her mind: symbols for weakening, for changing, for entrance, creating a tapestry that she thinks her father would be proud of, even if he wouldn't be proud of where she's doing it.

[Find Sabriel at any time of day, working magic in the Necropolis. An excellent time to meet her, or Mogget.]
skepticgirl_1: (ll038)
[personal profile] skepticgirl_1 posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
September 7, 2017:

His stomach had twisted with worry when he got her text and seeing her now, when she was fine, still had him heated up because she didn't seem to understand what could have happened.

"I want to help you and if that means -- if that means keeping a closer eye on you, I'll do it," Jake told her, tone steady even if the implication in his words made him nervous. "You need something more than what they're providing you. If you can't trust them, you're going to get hurt."

Lois breaks up a drug ring and Jake volunteers to be her guardian.

[ HERE | complete | PG ]
light_of_the_world: (e14)
[personal profile] light_of_the_world posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
July 12, 2017:

He's started running then. Or hopping. Back out of the cabin and through the woods, over branches and rocks and through a creek, as fast as his four legs could carry him. He had no idea where to go, which way direction might lead back to the city, or what he'd do once he got there.

Sheer exhaustion is all that's stopped him now, his heart still pounding as he tries to catch his breath. He aches all over and, though he has a feeling he's not sweating, it certainly feels like he should be.

He's never felt so

Freddie finds himself turned into a frog. With some help from Noah and Hild, he becomes himself again.

[ HERE | ftb | PG ]

(no subject)

Sep. 12th, 2017 03:21 pm
onlythebranch: (001)
[personal profile] onlythebranch posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
It's four in the afternoon on a Tuesday and Mad Sweeney is blindingly, horribly, black the fuck out drunk. Or he would be, if two little pricks who owned the bar he was planning on drinking out of business hadn't kicked him the fuck out after his fifth glass of Southern Comfort and coke.

To add insult to injury, the littler of the assholes who insinuated his drink of choice was a commentary on the size of his dick, which had resulted in Mad Sweeney pushing the man's head through a shoddily built wall and then there had been blood. Blood, sure, but not much at all and he thinks the littler of the assholes is a big fucking crybaby, based on the way he wails about his broken nose. It's just a broken bloody nose, after all, it's not as if the same hasn't happened to Sweeney himself about a dozen times over the past five years alone. Bones mend. It's the wall Sweeney is sort of concerned with. If the entire bar is built the same as that, the whole fucking thing is bound to come down in a year or so.

He makes a mental note not to go back. Of course, based on the interaction he's just had with the owners, he doubts he'd be welcome either way.

So he stumbles out into the street, produces a few coins and coerces a pretty young lass into buying him a fifth of whiskey for a few coins in exchange. Christ knows they won't let him into a store like he is. When she returns with his bottle, he gives her the coin he's promised and tries to cop a feel, but she's faster than he is and she slaps his hand away hard enough that it stings. Which is fine, he likes a little fight, and he calls as much after her as she walks down the street, but she only flips him off in return.

It's been two months in this bloody city and he's not dead yet, but he doesn't have his fucking coin, nor does he have the slightest idea what the fuck he's supposed to be doing here. His luck is shit, but Darrow itself isn't the worst place he's ever been and Mad Sweeney figures if he can just last long enough for Wednesday to get his wrinkled old ass over here, he'll be just fucking fine, thank you very much. The problem comes in actually making it as far as that.

Because today alone, he's nearly been hit by two cars, narrowly missed taking a rubbish bin to the face as someone threw it toward a garbage truck and now, standing just outside the liquor store with his bottle shoved in a bag and the cap twisted off, he realizes he's about to get in the middle of a bloody robbery gone wrong. He hadn't even seen the bastard approach, hadn't heard the ruckus from inside, but now there's the sound of glass breaking and a gunshot and Sweeney doesn't duck, but instead turns in the direction of the sound.

Which is when the window shatters and he's hit hard enough in the shoulder to send him stumbling back several steps.

"You fuckin' cunt," he spits out when he realizes he's been shot. Far as he can tell, the bullet has gone straight through, but he's bleeding a hell of a lot and he's drunk as shit and he about wants to murder someone for what's just happened to him. "Oh, you fuckin' cunt, I'm gonna tear your fuckin' head off and fuck the hole where your neck used to be."

He will. Just as soon as the world stops spinning.

[I don't even know. XD Closed unless we've already spoken.]
intheruins: (Default)
[personal profile] intheruins posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
October 6th, 2017
It's a boy, just as I promised. We wish you were here more than anything.

Four months after the birth of her son, Serena sends her husband a photograph of him via the Mailbox to Somewhere Else.

[ HERE | oneshot | general ]

A dream is a wish your heart makes.

Sep. 11th, 2017 09:16 pm
terriblecoffee: (Carefree)
[personal profile] terriblecoffee posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Mid to Late August 2017:

And who knows? Maybe the distraction of working on a play will help distract her from the fact that Baby isn’t here.

Debora auditions for a local musical and is delighted when she gets cast.

[ HERE | complete | pg ]

September 11, 2017:

So now, today, on her day off, here Debora stands, clutching the prettiest, tourist postcard she could find in one of Darrow’s souvenir shops: a postcard with a picture of the city at sunrise, glimpses of the countryside and the ocean both in the corners. It looks like a watercolor painting, reminding Debora of all the “art” she’d made as a kid. She thinks Baby will appreciate the whimsicality of it. Hopefully, he appreciates the words, too.

Debora visits the Mailbox to Somewhere Else and sends Baby a postcard.

[ HERE | complete | pg ]

Her bones and the truth show through

Sep. 11th, 2017 09:27 am
tricktofalling: PB: Alba Flores (menagerie)
[personal profile] tricktofalling posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Autumn is beginning to creep in at the edges of the evenings, still long and red with the sun going down at somewhat reasonable hours, but by the time the Crow Club closes most nights, it's late and dark. There are plenty of street lamps, the clean-light ones rather than the dark-burning fuel lamps of the Lib in Ketterdam or the corpse-lights of thieves in the Barrel. With the buildings spaced the way that they are, Inej almost always goes by foot these days, almost always goes by the ground. She knows she can make the jumps from building to building, easy enough. She's even laid out the tricks and tracks that she needs for her longer travels, for when she wants to go by roof top. By for the most part, it's faster for her to go on the street like everyone else.

Tonight ought not be any different.

"Hey. Hey, pretty. Hey, give us a smile."

content warning: harassment, attempted sexual assault, PTSD, physical violence )

She's left heaving for breath. Tears roll down her face. She's shaking as she wipes her knife carefully and strips off her shoes because she doesn't want to trail blood away from this body. Her hands are already urgently seeking her phone, trying to organize this. She can let herself be terrified about what just happened later. For the moment, there is a body to deal with.

[Find Inej in the immediate aftermath of dispatching her assailant, or in covering up that dispatch. A curious time to meet her - she will be candid about her situation, but very adverse to touch and any/all authority figures. Heed the content warnings.]

there's a shadow that falls

Sep. 12th, 2017 12:53 am
notallthose: (04)
[personal profile] notallthose posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
The mithril shone under the grey, darkened sky, even without any light to touch it. It was a beautiful sight and yet the most disheartening and horrific thing Aragorn had laid eyes upon. He refused to believe it, the poison words being spewed from the Mouth in front of him, and yet he had no way of knowing truthfully if Frodo was alive or not. The only thing he could trust was what was in his heart, and so he shut out the mournful cries of Merry and Pippin, looked determinedly away from the heartbreak in Gandalf’s face and urged Brego forward, slowly.

“Who would have thought one so small could endure so much pain?”

Lies, he had to believe. The idea that Frodo could perish after everything they had fought for seemed cruelly unfair and would break his heart if it were true, but even so, there were larger things at hand. The Morannon loomed large above them, casting its shadow over everything. More than anything the sight in front of him steeled his resolve, and Aragorn knew that no matter what had happened to the ring-bearer, his task was still set before him. He had to trust that the Ring would make it into the fire, but more than that, he owed it to the army amassed behind him to stand and fight, no matter the end.

Disdain showed on his face as he moved Brego forward, slowly circling around the agent of the Enemy.

“And who is this? Isildur’s heir? It takes more to make a king than a broken Elvish blade.”

Yet the sword was broken no longer, and Aragorn would make sure he knew it. It slid from its sheath almost as if it had a will of its own, and in one sweeping movement, Aragorn cut the Mouth’s head from his shoulders.

“I do not believe it,” he said determinedly, turning to face his companions with a resolute will. “I will not!” Behind him, he could hear the stamping and chanting of orcs as the Gate opened, and he urged Brego on again, back towards the lines of men. “Pull back!”

By the time he reached the men they were restless, their horses fidgeting and the lines threatening to break. In that moment something shifted, and Aragorn was faced suddenly with the knowledge that these men were his responsibility now, that the fear reflected in their eyes was there because of a decision he had made. For years he’d been told that this was his destiny, but it had never felt so real as in this moment.

They deserved every strength he had to give them. He cast aside doubt, cast aside the Ranger, and when Aragorn addressed them, he did so as King.

“Sons of Gondor, of Rohan, my brothers! I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me.” Not since the days of Elendil had the armies of Mordor been challenged so openly, on the Enemy’s very doorstep, and he would be foolish not to fear. What mattered was that they didn’t succumb to it. Aragorn rode Brego up and down the lines, pitching his voice to reach as far as he possibly could, hoping to reach the ears of each and every man. “A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship. But it is not this day!” Even if they all died today, he would not let the last memory of Men be that of cowardice or dishonour.

And yet when he next turned to spur Brego back down the line, the scene in front of him had changed.

The sky was a clear blue. That was the first thing he noticed. It opened up in a way he had almost forgotten, without the heavy weight of the Shadow stretching across it. Beneath him, Brego’s ears were twitching, flattening and listening intently, his hoof pawing anxiously at the ground. “Stille nú,” he murmured, rubbing his hand over the horse’s neck gently.

He trusted Brego’s instincts more than he trusted his own sometimes, and there was no denying that both he and his horse were suddenly in a very different place than they had been a moment ago. The army of the West was gone, Gandalf and Éomer gone, Merry and Pippin lost to him for a second time. The greenery surrounding him was nothing at all like the black expanses of Mordor, and there were people here he did not recognise. Many of them stared at him, and Aragorn’s hand moved towards Andúril, hesitating on the hilt.

Despite the pleasantness of the scene around him, he could only suspect that some evil had gripped him. He did not know any sorcery that could do a thing like this, but there was no other explanation. In his years he’d travelled through much of Middle-Earth but he did not recognise any of the trees or the city looming in the distance. A city unlike any city of men he had ever witnessed, though he could see only the fringes of it for now.

“What is this place?” he called out to the person nearest him, trying to keep his wits about him. They did not look like servants of the Enemy, but Aragorn learned long ago that often the foulest seemed fairest. He would not be so easily fooled. “Speak quickly!”

[Okay let's do this semi-traditional. Either find Aragorn and Brego shouting in the park, or find him anywhere around the city that suits you afterwards. Promise he won't cut off anybody's head. Closed unless we've spoken <3]

and so i'm having a wonderful time

Sep. 10th, 2017 01:08 pm
veturius: (e040)
[personal profile] veturius posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
I'd spent this morning training. I'd been trying to get back to normal ever since the arrival of Demetrius' body and I finally felt that maybe I was back on even ground. The poison in my blood had left me alone, Darrow itself had only spat out a sudden blizzard to combat, and the terrible memories only assaulted me at night. Strange how things could feel okay when, just a few months ago, I'd been prepared for my death.

After training, I go into the city to find something to eat. Usually, I'd just pick something up for takeout but I decide to have a sit down meal today. It's quiet for the most part, me and a few other families taking some time to eat their lunch. I notice one little boy with his family, wearing a colorful pointed hat and tugging on a red balloon. I stare for a second and overhear the word 'birthday' a few times.

"I don't even know when my birthday is," I mutter, tapping my fingers against the glass of water.

"Wait, it's your birthday?" my waitress asks, surprising me out of my thoughts. She's grinning hugely and I just stare at her, not sure what to do. She obviously didn't hear my whole sentence, walking over just as the words 'my birthday' were uttered.

"Well, it's not -- "

"Oh, that's okay if it's a few days early! It still deserves a celebration!" the waitress says, gesturing her fellow employees out from the back. I don't know what's about to happen so I keep trying to tell her that she has it wrong but she's not listening.

My mouth drops open when another waitress drops a birthday hat similar to the little boy's onto my head and they start singing. I don't even know this song but I'm too dumbfounded to do anything but sit and stare. The words are loud, off key but they're heartfelt and just as the song ends, a piece of cake is dropped in front of me.

"I -- " My voice trails off as the staff of his restaurant stand there, waiting for something. "Thank you."

A smattering of 'you're welcomes' are returned before they disperse and I'm left with a hat, a piece of cake and no idea what just went on.

That doesn't stop me from eating the cake.

When I go to leave, hat still on, the waitress gives me a blue balloon. "I know you're a little too old for this but it's restaurant tradition. Have a great birthday!"

Again, I try to protest but she ushers me out the door until I'm standing on the street, having just celebrated turning a year old on a day that I'm pretty certain is not my actual birthday. I don't know when it is, in fact, and I've never really cared before.

"Well. That was strange," I say, before turning to head home, still wearing the hat and still carrying the balloon. People absolutely give me stares and looks as I pass but I ignore them. Maybe I should have taken the hat off before leaving but it was a kind gesture, one that didn't have to be done and I decide to keep it until I at least get home.

[His last EP was full of sadness so I wanted to do something silly this time. Feel free to be in the restaurant where Elias celebrates his 'birthday' or find him heading home, still wearing his birthday duds and carrying a balloon. ST/LT welcome always. Currently: open]

(no subject)

Sep. 10th, 2017 12:37 pm
thebloodyglue: (Default)
[personal profile] thebloodyglue posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
There's always something that needs to be done. There's his last few school assignments, building towards graduation. There's his business, small but flourishing. And there's the work that he still does for Darrow's Parks Department, because it's a steady paycheck, not subject to whims and fluctuation, and he likes to think that he's contributing to the home that he and Kavinsky have made. A lot of things have changed for Newt in the nearly two years that he's been in Darrow but some things, some of the simplest things, will always be the same.

The simplest thing: Newt's always been happiest with his hands in the dirt.

Crouched down, Newt is working on planting bulbs. He's in his Parks department uniform, heavy and utilitarian green, but with a battered cardigan pulled on over it, a beanie over his hair. Planting bulbs is a job that he enjoys; in the moment, it doesn't feel like anything at all but, in the Spring, it'll be life exploding outwards, upwards, proof that no matter what happens when it's cold, life always manages to find a way.

There's something comforting in that.

Newt whistles while he works, trying to shake the the low feeling of dread that comes from an unsettled night, from how afraid Kavinsky had been when he'd woken up.

Newt concentrates on the task in front of him, planting the bulbs, his hands in the good earth.

ooc: Newt is planting somewhere in Petros park. Excellent time to meet him!

I grew up with a book in my bed

Sep. 9th, 2017 05:39 pm
all_the_gifts: (smart cookie)
[personal profile] all_the_gifts posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Melanie's learning a lot in Darrow, even though she doesn't see much of it. It's not as bad as being in the bunker, though. She has a room of her own that's much nicer than her cell ever was, and a window she can watch the world through. There are so many people, and so much movement. It's nothing like the London she knew.

It might be a lot like the London that used to be. That's one of the hardest things she's learning: what her world lost. What people like Dr. Caldwell were trying to get back. She doesn't think they could have done it. There were too many hungries, and things were too different. But she's beginning to understand what they missed so much.

The more she thinks about it, the more certain she is that she doesn't belong here. It's easier being inside Newt's suitcase. He'd make room for anything in there, even a hungry child.

But one thing Newt's suitcase doesn't have is a library. He has books, but she's read through most of them already -- the ones she can understand, anyway. Some are so much about magic that she can't get through a page without having to ask a dozen questions. Newt's patient, and kind, but she knows he has other things he could be doing with his time than teach her about magic, especially since she can't even use it.

Darrow, however, does have a library. A good one, according to Newt. Melanie thinks it would have to be, because the windows wouldn't be broken and the roof wouldn't have leaks, so all the books would be dry and safe and taken care of. And since she can't just take whatever she finds here, like she could in London, borrowing from the library seems like a much better idea than buying books. She has money from the city, but not so much that she can spend it all on whatever she likes. Food is more important.

Going to the library means being around people, though, and the thought still makes her nervous. Even though she's not hungry, and even though Newt has a spell that makes it so she can't smell anything at all, there's something uncomfortable about the thought of being around people who aren't like her. People who don't even know hungry children exist. It feels like lying. But Newt will be there, and he's reassured her that the library will be quiet, and that people probably won't even try to talk to her, unless they're librarians and trying to help her find things.

So she goes, sticking close to Newt's side at first, but eventually feeling bold enough to wander between the shelves on her own. She finds a copy of Alice in Wonderland and beams, surprised that a book from her world is in Darrow, too. Before long, she has a whole stack tucked under one arm. With her free hand, she plucks another book off the shelf -- Jeremy Thatcher, Dragon Hatcher -- and turns it over, trying to decide if she wants this one, too.

[ Come meet a smol and slightly nerfed zombie! Timed for Saturday afternoon. Closed unless we've spoken. ]

Makin' My Way Downtown

Sep. 8th, 2017 02:28 pm
theyoungdetective: (Gender switch-Flannel)
[personal profile] theyoungdetective posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Tim is pretty glad that they didn't enroll full time for classes, because there was no way they were showing up as a girl for all of one of the first weeks of class then suddenly being the gawky boy he typically feels like out of costume. It easier to do so with only a handful of classes to attend, spread over the week. They'd have to go to work still, and they hoped it was understood there that the city is stupid and like to play games with its residents. But that could wait for later in the day.

Right now, Tim wanted to just try to adjust to their new body outside of their apartment, taking Ace to the park and going for some coffee. They had to consider how to deal with night time activities, and they had a note book to list off what would be needed to adjust the suit to their new body.

[Timed just after lunch, it's still a good time to meet Tim, even for the first time. Run to them at the coffee shop, the park, or just on the street. I will be packing to evacuate SC, but I'll get back as soon as I'm in the hotel if it's not too late.]

(no subject)

Sep. 7th, 2017 10:47 pm
love_made_public: (Default)
[personal profile] love_made_public posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Hernando isn't sure why this feels quite so illicit.

It's just a guitar.

After his discussion with Olive about the record, he'd decided that if he was truly going to represent Mexico, he might as well play on the album as well as sing and so he'd snuck out of the apartment before Lito had arrived back from the gym and gone to a second hand shop. It's not as nice as the one his parents used to play but it's been well taken care of and it's a classical which will sound more authentic.

He cannot help but feel a little silly, though, as he takes carries it to the park and takes it carefully out of the cases to tune it. It's been years but this part, at least, is still very familiar. A few people look up at the sound of the strings and it's enough to make him self conscious enough to set it aside and pull out his paperwork. He and Lito have been pre-approved for a house and now it is just left to make an offer and before they can do that, they need to find a bodyguard. A house feels even more exposed and Hernando knows he will not be able to sleep without Lito being better protected than a home alarm can manage. He won't risk it, not even for Lito's dream of a house and on this he feels quite firm. He juggles his phone out, shooting a quick text off so Lito knows where he is and pulls out the most promising house. It is small but modern and a newer build in a neighborhood known more for craftsman. It would be a stretch, financially, but not if Hernando could convince Lito to let him exercise a little more control over the budget. Of course, when the papers slip from his hands and go flying in a sudden breeze, he's not certain he should be in charge of anything.

Open to all. Find him in Petros Park either plucking at the guitar or after his paperwork starts to escape. If your pup is involved in the Art School, they could recognize him as a professor. He would welcome help from any musical people, as well.

(no subject)

Sep. 7th, 2017 09:11 pm
startarebellion: (Face)
[personal profile] startarebellion posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
Galen scowled as he tapped and swiped at the tiny datapad the city had given him. Even after all his time here he missed all the technology of home. In some ways it was more advanced, or at least focused in a different way, but other ways it still lagged behind. He really missed being able to search networks just by asking Proxy to look for things. No matter how good the attempt at artificial intelligence on his phone was it couldn't make up for the lack of a droid. It couldn't be his friend.

"This was a stupid idea," he told himself when he finally found what he was looking for. It was a series of advertisements for therapists, different people who were specially trained in helping you get over "issues". Galen had never considered himself as the sort of person who had "issues". Yes he was raised by the tyrant who had murdered his father to be a disposable weapon in some twisted galactic holochess match but he'd never considered that as having "issues", he just thought it was awful.

But the more he talked to people the more he realized that everyone had some problems that they could use some help with. It wasn't shameful to be broken in some way, it was just a state of being. Whether or not it was even your fault it was like a physical injury. You were hurt or damaged so you went to a doctor to get better.

Of course, knowing objectively wasn't the same as acting on it. It wasn't until he had placed his own add online offering protection services - because what other marketable skills did a former Sith and pseudo current Jedi have - when he realized that therapists might do the same thing.

So he'd set aside some time to sit outside at a cafe and try and pick one of them to see if they could help. The only problem was that it wasn't like picking out a new speeder or something like that where you could look at the specs and decide which was best for you. Were you just supposed to pick one at random and hoped that they were good?

"This is stupid," he grumbled out loud as he took a drink of the plant-seasoned gourd latte and stared down at the screen. "How are you supposed to know if someone can help you just from their name and location on a screen?"

[OOC: Come help Galen figure out how to therapy. Or be interested in his services as a bodyguard. ST/LT open forever.]

(no subject)

Sep. 7th, 2017 11:04 pm
theyoungdetective: (Gender Switch-General)
[personal profile] theyoungdetective posting in [community profile] thecityneversleeps
July 23, 2017

Three teens on a rooftop eat donuts, talk codenames, and fight crime to celebrate Tim's belated birthday.
[ HERE | faded before action | none ]

August 23, 2017

Billy finds out about Izzy and calls Tim over to grieve.

[ HERE | on going | none so far ]

September 7, 2017

Tim wakes up in a female body and asks two women they can trust to help out with the changes.

[ HERE | on going | none so far ]


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