Fantasy Fated IC

[WitworthGold]

"What if I were to tell you that the world you see is only half true? That the magic and monsters that you believed in so wholeheartedly as a kid really do exist... And not only that but they walk openly among you. You wouldn't believe me would you? That's fine, if I had a choice in the matter I'd be just like you and I wouldn't believe it myself..."
- Anonymous

Spoiler: Rules

1. Absolutely NO Metagaming, Powerplay, or Godmodding. If it's accidental then we have a conversation and then drop it if its a serial offence then you're out.
2. In combat situation we go by the rule of fairness. No one is 100% untouchable or effective. Unless its already been discussed how it's supposed to go be fair or I'll arbitrate.
3. In accordance with the site rules no overly sexy themes. This is a Mature rp but lets keep it fairly tasteful. Profanity is acceptable but don't overly abuse it.
4. This is not supposed to be an overly demanding rp so all I ask is that you try to post at least a paragraph at a time which is flexible depending on the actions and interactions. And that you try to post at least twice a week preferably three or more. And that being said don't rp yourself or another player into a corner then wait a week before responding.
5. If you're going to be absent for a time contact me and we can talk about how to take your character off of the scene until you can come back.
6. Above all have fun!!!!

Links
OOC | Lore | CS​

 

[Quiznack]

Scuffles at the UndergroundTime: Morning to Mid-day
Location: Seattle Underground

​

He had watched the trickle of mundanes become a torrent of bustling bodies -- pushing and shoving against another while exchanging polite, though some aggressive, apologies. Fortunately he was just slumped lazily against a wooden beam, away from the human stream that threatened to carry him away if he stepped into it. Noah had been wandering the Underground since the early AM, going about his usual stroll of the place. The Underground was better at night and/or before dawn, where there were folks he could tolerate or no folks at all. He could probably roam with a blindfold on, and he'll get to whatever place he wanted to go. That's how long he's been exploring the Underground.

But going in blind wasn't exactly his sorta thing anyway.

The river of mundanes soon became a blur in front of him and he found himself lost staring at a sickly yellow light being emitted by an old hanging lamp at the ceiling. Why the darn thing was on even at this hour, Noah didn't exactly know why, nor why he suddenly cared about the thought -- but he did know that it was a waste of electricity. It was a disgusting musty colour too, whoever takes care of the Underground should change it at least. Now he thought about it, it's not like he's ran into any kind of janitors here.

Noah's train of thought was leading him to a boring path but he himself couldn't drag himself away on thinking about something else -- until the stream of mundanes grew sharp in focus as the torrent came to a gradual slow. The Osedax blinked his half-lidded eyes before craning his neck to see why the river had stopped flowing. Apart from the thick accented curses and provoking remarks, the sound of flesh hitting flesh made it apparent to him that a fight had broken out.

He figured that it must've been atleast two burly blokes that bumped against each other in the not-so-right way, and neither of them bothered to apologise. It's pretty common, especially with the rush at this time -- but one of the voices sounded higher than a man; tough and authoritative, but feminine nonetheless. Noah momentarily closed his eyes and re-opened them, attempting to focus on what was happening. He should scram before parts of the stream end up joining in and he'll be somehow pulled into it -- violence was like a vacuum, especially when bits of bone begin to stick out. Reminder to himself that mundane bones were as useless as chicken bones to him, fine to use as a toothpick and possibly a short snack like Twisties but nothing more.

 

[Sir Galahad II]

The familiar noise of the Underground filled Gregory's ears. People almost seemed to fill the halls to the brim, but he knew where he was going. In part, this was due to him routinely using the Underground as a shortcut to his jobs, but he could also use his scrying mirror to at least somewhat help him navigate. Fortunately, Gregory was able to learn how to use the mirror to avoid people who might want to steal it. Many of the people he passed looked like they stayed conscious solely through caffeine. Thankfully, Gregory had always been a morning person. At least, for the two weeks he remembers.

Suddenly, Gregory's unusual powers alerted him to a hazard in the area. From the somewhat vague sensory details he picked up, he could guess that a fight had broken out within the shifting masses of people. Although he had set out to walk to work, he had plenty of time. He normally left the house early anyway. The job could wait, at least for a few minutes. Gregory's interest had been peaked. He set out toward the disturbance, slowly weaving between various people.

 

[WitworthGold]

She hated moving... it was always stressful and time consuming and an all around bother, so much so that the new location almost didn't make up for it. But nonetheless, here she was unpacking and sorting, and organizing and squaring things away. "You know that there's a spell that can help you with that..." came Bartholomew's languid thoughts. "..it's in one of your grimoires... the small leather-bound tome I think, the one with the violet ribbon." he finished.

As soon as he mentioned it she shoved aside the box that the was going through and turned her focus to finding the book. In the little time it took for her to find the book and within it the spell that he'd mentioned, it dawned on her that he had been sitting there and watching her unpack box after box after box for the past three hours. When that awareness hit her, she could hear his laughter booming through their link. It was a decidedly un-catlike sound and at that very moment she felt the almost overwhelming urge to light his whiskers ablaze just to watch him leap out of his skin. Luckily for him the thought of it was enough to break through her aggravation.

Thankfully the spell was simple, it didn't require any of the added bells and whistles that a lot of spells did. No bloodletting, no sacrifices, and no more unpacking boxes once the spell had been performed and properly. She studied the spell for a few minutes, it was Gaelic and she always had trouble with guttural sounding languages. She mouthed the spell a few times before she cleared her throat and began to incant. "Glanadh suas agus a chur ar shiúl glan ó bhalla go balla ligean gach rud laistigh den áit heed mo ghlao Lorelei. Glan an áit ar fad a fheiceáil mé go bhfuil I mo shúile offend glan an áit ó mbun aníos dtí an foircinn draíochta."

As she spoke the words of the spell she could physically feel the magic ripple outward into the world around her and as it did the apartment literally came alive. Cleaning implements awakened and began to move about the space as if they were in use, the boxes unpacked themselves their contents neatly organized themselves before flying through the air to the places she'd had in mind when casting the spell. In the midst of all of this she heard Bartholomew's voice speak to her and say, "You might want to come downstairs and see this."

 

[taliaangeni]

Crimson was one of the best places to find fang bangers. Everyone wanted to be a vampire these days. Not that Reid Moore made vampires. That wasn't his thing. His thing was to be in the moment. Like right now he was dancing with a chick with long blonde hair, big boobs, and grinding into her ass. The hair and boobs were probably fake but who was he to nitpick. All he wanted the girl for was her blood. He could practically hear the blood coursing through every human near him. As he nuzzled her neck, she pulled his hair to push his face into it. He winced. He could do the rough stuff but right now he was more focused on other stuff. Like dinner.

"Let's take this somewhere more private?" Reid's mouth was at her ear but he still had to shout to be heard above the pounding music. She nodded and he grabbed her by the hand and took her to the bathroom. The bathroom was an expected place to have intercorse at nightclubs. Reid guided her into a stall and looked her in the eyes. She was giggling. She was drunk. It would make his job easier but her blood would have a strange flavor.

His hand plastered on her face, he gazed at her he said, "You want me to bite you."

"I want you to bite me," she smiled, her eyes dilating.

"And it'll feel so good."

"It will feel good." Her hands were covering his and her body leaning against his almost as if they were joined at the chest. He smiled as he kissed her cheek and slowly traveled to her neck. The anticipation was giving him goosebumps. His lips found her pulse and sucked. She moaned in delight. As she moaned, he struck. Sliding his fangs into her neck, into her vein and drawing blood. He gulped it down as if he were in a desert and desperate for water.

Not wanting to drain her, Reid pulled back. He licked his lips before looking into her eyes. "You won't remember what happened between us. You'll go home and go to sleep." Her eyes were glazed as he left the stall and reentered the mass of slithering bodies.

 

[Roleplay Skittle]

Cafe to Underground​

The man in the black suit had been leaning against the newspaper rack for the last ten minutes. The pinstripes on his suit were bent and wrinkled, swaying a wiggling as he scraped at the bottom of his polished dress shoe with a stick. His once slicked back hair had become somewhat mussed during his irritation at the inconvenience of having the pre-masticated wad stuck on his shoe.

Olivia's pinkie finger tapped against the side of the white, bowl shaped mug she held, the golden ring she wore just above the larger of the two knuckles clacking steadily against the porcelain. Hazel eyes peered past the top of her mug, the steam from her hot latte only faintly masking her features. She had been staring out the window of the cafe at the man battling with the sticky substance that had unintentionally hindered him. Unintentionally hindered him, it was gum. Olivia snorted slightly as she thought, closing her eyes a moment as she shook her head and took another sip of her coffee.

She had been living in Seattle for about a month now and had just started getting used to things. She had made a few friends, mostly at the thrift store where she worked, and on her last day off they had showed her around. They took her to a place known as 'The Underground' by the locals. It wasn't really something she was interested in, but what disturbed her more was the odd familiarity she felt when there. It was a feeling she had when she was with her family back in Italy. A feeling of being around others that were like her.

She hadn't said anything to her new friends, of course not, they were all mundanes. They'd probably think she was crazy and then she wouldn't have any friends anymore. She kept it to herself but had decided that she would go back on her own and find out if it had just been a fluke or if she needed to trust her instincts. As she sat, continuing to look out the window where the man that had been fighting with the gum, no longer stood and instead vacantly watching the cars speed by on the road beyond, her phone rang.

It was playing Tarantella Napolitana. She had changed her ringtone to the song for each of her family members on her father's side, mostly just because she knew they would hate it and because it made her laugh every time she heard it instead of aggravating her. She didn't even look to see which one of them were calling, if they called again, it was her grandmother. If they didn't call again, it was anyone else. She just chuckled to herself softly, finishing her coffee before picking up the raggedy knit shoulder bag from the seat beside her, the song still playing as she left her cup at the counter and exited the cafe.

Eventually she came to the Underground and approached with unwavering apprehension. Her black Chuck Taylor high tops seemed like they wanted to turn and run. She didn't even know what she was doing there, why did she even care? She had gone her whole college career without being curious about local supernatural customs, she hadn't even cared about how they would be different from European ones. So why now?

She supposed the previous lack of curiosity stemmed from the fact that she had never come across an area that was so popular with mundanes and also appeared to be a place that supernaturals enjoyed as well. So with a deep breath and a faltering step, she entered the Underground, eager to see if she hadn't been mistaken.

 

[Sir Galahad II]

As he traveled through the sea of people, a woman who's height peaked at just below Gregory's chin suddenly bumped into him and hurried past. He turned and said sorry on instinct, but it seemed the nervous looking girl didn't hear him. Unfortunate, but he had other things to do, like investigate the fight. It seemed that other people already had the situation under control, however. The man angrily stormed off, causing a few people to suddenly make way for him, and the woman slowly stumbled back up with the assistance of a bystander.

On one hand, Gregory was somewhat relieved to see that the situation didn't end any worse than it did. On the other hand, he had hoped for an opportunity to put his powers to good use. Looking back, he might not have believed his current situation was real if his newfound power did not seem like such a blessing to him.

He decided to simply exit the quickly shrinking pocket of space and continue on his way. He briefly noticed a man in what appeared to be skeleton face paint, but simply wrote him off as a street performer and ignored him.

 

[Quiznack]

Time: Mid-day
Location: Seattle Underground
Current Magic Ability: N/A
​

While he was actually contemplating his route of escape, the brawl a distance from his current position came from a boil to a simmer. With a tilt of his head, he watched the mass of mundanes go forth as if nothing happened, but there was still a few stopped in the pathway -- probably cleaning up the mess that the short-lived fight made. Noah almost found it endearing as to how they just brush off such things so easily,although remembering that it was common for a tussle to break out during the rush-hours of the Underground. It still manages to humour him. The Osedax, despite being caught
up on another thought that looped time and time again concerning the activities in the Underground, felt some eyes on him. Often he would ignore it --if he's seen someone with as much ink on their skin as him, he wouldn't have helped but glaze his eyes over them too, out of curiosity.

Noah side-glanced to where he had felt the stare and only caught a glimpse of a man passing by, which he assumed where it had come from. He passed like the rest of the mundanes, but the strap-like accessory that was part of his wardrobe caused a ghost of smile to dance on his lips. Fashion these days. But there was something particular about the look, even if it was just a second. He closed his eyes and gently bonked his head against the wooden beam he was leaning against. He should go get something to eat actually first. Something to fuel his train of thoughts. He knew of the cafes available in the Underground but it was time to catch some fresh air up in the surface -- he's stayed here long enough.

Noah tried his best on not getting carried away by flow of the mundanes and kept to the walls, though a occasionally he would've been dragged back a step by a rough brush against his shoulder. He was, no, IS, hungry. The idea of feasting on another supernatural floated into his head, but he didn't feel up to hunting at the moment, and of course, he preferred it at night. A hamburger sounded nice...
Once he's finally neared the steps exiting the Underground, and where the crowd of mundanes seem to dwindle just a little, he ended up bumping head-first against a passer-by with a helmet.

Damn it...

He should've kept his head up and attention away from fast-food. He peered from the cover of his hood, almost meekly at the brunette, and uttered a rough apology, ending with "sheila."
@librislily

 

[Roleplay Skittle]

Entrance of the Underground​

The first stop on their way in the last time she was here was the souvenir shop at the beginning of the tunnels. Olivia had picked up a map at that time and currently she was digging through the bag that hung from her shoulder in search of it. Honestly? Why did she even bring a bag with her? It just had a bunch of random nonsense that she didn't even need. She wasn't one to wear a lot of makeup, not even really on her eyes, she only wore chapstick and she had no idea what else to put in a purse and so had actually just grabbed a bunch of random stuff in her apartment to make the bag look full.

There was a pair of balled up socks, her wallet, keys, a bag of Chex Mix, some Jolly Ranchers, a bottle of water, her phone, some movie ticket stubs and receipts, other various odds and ends, a collection of take-out menus, and it was amidst these last items that there was a folded up map of the Underground. Of course while she had been digging through her bag, she hadn't exactly been paying attention and because of this it wasn't surprising when she bumped into someone leaving the tunnels.

Olivia gasped in surprise and took a few steps back, "sorry! I wasn't paying attention," her voice sounded very much like Violante Placido's, easy to understand and her Italian accent being present but it was hard to actually place.

Sir Galahad II

 

[WitworthGold]

Spell work wasn't her thing. Quite often it surprised her with it's effectiveness and now happened to be one of those times. She had intended for the spell to only impact her loft, but after dodging a few flying books she made it down the stairs to see that it was also working on the shop. Shelves and displays assembled themselves as if controlled by unseen hands. Those that had already assembled themselves were being stocked by the self same unseen force while the others were removing themselves from their boxes to float expectantly in the air.

The spell had freed up hours that would have otherwise been spent assembling and unpacking the shop and what remained of her loft. She fully intended to make the best of that time and set about to gather her messenger bag and an umbrella before stepping out onto the street. As with most days the city was damp, it wasn't raining but it was better to be prepared just the same, than to be caught off guard in bad weather.

She had walked her own street a few times familiarizing herself with the shops on either side of hers. She'd received more than a few strange glances when she'd moved in and opened an occult bookstore and novelty shop but it was nothing she wasn't already used to. If it wasn't the business drawing strange glances it was Bartholomew who trailed her in much the same way as a dog did. That wasn't going to be much of a deal here though, true to form he hated being wet and never waited too long to remind her just how much of a mistake he thought it was moving to the rainiest state in the country. She laughed inwardly at the thought of his displeasure and in return felt a ripple of irritation bristle off of him at him sensing her train of thought.

Some part of her knew that this was where she needed to be. She was no seer but the trusted her gut and did her best to tune in and listen when it gave her input, and when she'd settled down and decided to move the first place that came to mind was Seattle and something about it struck a chord. All of these thoughts drifted through her mind as she continued her walk occasionally interrupted as she found herself someplace interesting that she would mark down on her map to check out later.

Her gait slowed as she came to a line of what she soon realized were tourists heading toward what she'd heard was called the Underground.