starter blog

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“Hey,” The clan leader flashed the other supernatural an innocent enough smile as she prefaced her question with, “this is going to be weird question, but the thing is I have a newbie vampire roaming somewhere around the city breaking out in hives desperately trying to locate their daylight ring, so… any chance you might have seen it? About yay big? Giant gemstone? Mildly tacky, but you didn’t hear that from me? Please tell me I’m in luck?”

The unfortunately unblessed crooner on stage was currently making Bea wish the microphone would give off more feedback so she wouldn’t have to hear their voice. She grimaced at the ungracious thought. Well, at least they had courage, she had to admit. When they finally left the stage, after a bow no less, Bea was one of the few people to applaud, though the rest of the crowd did seem to be cheering on their exit more than the performance. “Oh thank god,” she said under her breath, wincing one last time as the singer went around to sign up for another round. “They’re not going to go again, are they?”

“I’m…uh, well, to tell you the truth, I’m actually really fuckin’ scared of horses, dude. They’re always bigger than you think they’re gonna be. And that one over there keeps givin’ me death glares.” Hector was keeping his distance, lip furling up at the animal in question, which, in truth, seemed more interested in its handler than anything else. He bristled. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I ain’t trying to knock all this. I really wanna…try to fit in and shit and be part of the party and…but, come on, who’s idea was letting the horses in the big magic bubble? You know how many people here have, like, super smell? I have super smell. You’re gonna drop a horse in the middle of all the people with super smell?”

Raul had never considered himself a believer in luck or fate. There were too many ways for plans to go awry when left to simple chance, and yet, as he stood in front of the fountain, quarter clutched in one fisted hand, he couldn’t help but think that this was just that – asking the universe for some sort of small morsel of luck. Tradition, he thought to himself as his hand came up, quarter flying over one shoulder. “So, is this supposed to be a one-size fits all ask and you receive kind of thing or does the person in charge know when someone doesn’t believe?” 

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“Me? Enter a basket?” Kai blinked over at the other at the suggestion. He knew the upcoming Basket Auction was for a good cause and all and spending the afternoon with a stranger could be fun and he’d imagine to be far from the weirdest afternoon he’d ever spent or would spend with a stranger. But, the question remained whether whatever he came up with would be something anyone would even want to go for? “I don’t know. I mean, be honest, do you really think anyone would even bid on it? And what would I even auction of? A free drink at Eclipse?”

Adrian felt like a conspiracy theorist, sitting in a café, a mug of steaming coffee on the edge of the table, and a whole stack of papers and reports spread out before him while an old beat up laptop was on the seat next to him. To finish the image, he had lost his pen (it was actually hiding behind his ear) and presently Adrian busied himself shifting papers aside while muttering under his breath in a futile attempt to find it.

The café was packed, so when someone loomed over his work, he understood the question quickly, apologising and throwing his laptop on the table in a hurry, wincing as it hit the wood with a sudden high pitched whine that technology really should never make. “Sorry, please, take a seat,” he said glancing at the stranger. “I didn’t mean to… uh, take two.” His brain was so filled with words from the case reports and the ever-present tiredness that came with a long shift that he almost forgot how to string a coherent sentence together. 

“It’s actually quite fascinating! You see, Central Park was built on a large settlement of bedrock- So much bedrock that ,before the first landscapers could actually landscape, they needed to blow the place to smithereens with more gunpower than the amount used in the Battle of- And she’s gone.” Arthur glanced behind him to find that the elderly woman he was directing had already walked off. Now someone else was standing in her place. He winced and muttered under his breath, “Hopefully she caught the first half of all that.” Otherwise she was probably lost and asking someone else to point toward the restroom by now. “So sorry! I must be in your way.” A pathetic chuckle escaped his throat as he quickly ran a hand through his hair. “…How long have I been talking to the wind?”

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“No, no, no. My character didn’t have amnesia. She went into a coma after the crash and underwent extreme plastic surgery which caused her to wake up with a nearly identical face to that of her younger sister’s and I really don’t know what happens after that. I stopped watching after I was so abruptly written off,” Meena explained with a huff as she held her hand up over her face in embarrassment as if shield her gaze from that of the Café’s TV that was currently playing reruns of the old soap she used to be on. “Now, can we maybe get out of here or at least change the subject to something a little less embarrassing?”

Another class had come to the end for the brunette as an instructor. “Thank you for the great class everyone,” she said as people began to file out of the room. The class had been great, keeping the witch’s emotions in check as she began to clean up the room. It was the last class of the day, which meant that Sal would tidy up around the studio so that she didn’t come into a mess the next day - nor would anyone else. Sal began to wipe down the mirrors in the front of the room. The spray blurred any approach of a person, causing the woman to jump as she cleaned the mirror of to find someone standing behind her. “Heavens!” Sal blurted out, placing a hand over her heart, “You scared me.” She laughed softly, continuing to wipe down the mirrors so the liquid did not dry, “I apologize, I have to get these done as quickly as possible or else they will smudge.”

It was funny how many more tips Delphina got when she put on a costume. And not just talking about her standard cam girl look. But she had decided to do a stream in a Catwoman number and ended up making five times more than she typically did. Not that she was complaining really, she was happy to end her day early and head over to Blank Slate afterwards. She was intending to use that extra cash for some supplies. Somethings she didn’t typically work with to play around and see how she liked them. 

She instantly excited when she got in, this was probably one of her favorite place on land other than the comic shop. She was bouncing around exploring the watercolour section putting a few paints and brushes in her basket. When she reached for the brushes she dropped one incredibly thin brush onto the floor. Reaching down to pick it up she struggled, remembering she had committed to using a full set of catlike nails for the day. Suddenly it seemed like an absolutely ridiculous idea. 

She picked it up and dropped it about three times before she noticed someone walking past her. “Excuse me,” she called out with a smile. “This is super embarrassing but I literally can’t pick up this brush with these claws,” she explained showing her dagger nails to the stranger. “Would you mind grabbing it and putting it into my basket for me?” @darkesthourstarters​

LOCATION: Park

@darkesthourstarters​

“Whoa! Hey there, buddy,” Mila chuckled, trying to keep her balance. She was used to energetic dogs, but the one currently jumping up at her with its lolling tongue and wagging tail seemed to come from nowhere. Leaning down to soothingly scratch the fur along its sides, she began to inspect for sign of an ID tag. “Looks like you slipped your collar, huh?” With a sympathetic look, she glanced around the people within their proximity—it was a nice day, the park was pretty busy; the dog could’ve belonged to anybody. “Come on,” she instructed gently, standing upright to begin leading the dog—a difficult feat considering its lack of collar and leash—toward the nearest person. “Hey,” Mila cleared her throat, “um, this isn’t your dog, right?” She’d try the people close by, then head to work to check the chip if needed, but Mila remained hopeful that she’d be able to reunite it with its owner here.​

Location: Serenity Salon 

Ivy had been sweeping the floors  when she heard the door chime  “Welcome to the Salon, give me just a moment.” She bent down to sweep hair into a dustpan and dump it. “What can I do for you today? Cut, color or illegal tattoo?” 

Steeling herself, Corrine sipped at her drink, and then took every ounce of her self control not to wince at the burn. Blech. That’s what she got for ordering the cheapest crap on the drink menu. But she was nothing if not stubborn. She’d spent what little money she had left on this garbage, and she was going to get her money’s worth if it killed her. Another sip. It might kill her. 

Other than Corrine, there were only a few other patrons floating about The Whiskey Room. She was borderline day drinking as evening had really only just begun. A small swirl, like a glimmering golden thread, caught the corner of her eye. It was a brief image, like the edges of a dream that faded as you woke and focused too much on it, but enough of an indicator to tell her that another supernatural person was in the bar. 

Corrine turned away, kept her focus on the counter of the bar she was sat at, and hunched her shoulders. That was the problem with coming back to NYC. There was way too much magic in this place. When she went place to place, sometimes blowing right past tiny towns that barely cracked one thousand people, she barely saw them. Right now, Corrine didn’t want to deal with anyone.  “God, I hope this isn’t a wolf bar,” she muttered under her breath.

A task as simple as picking up his son had proven a challenge. Hector found himself lingering on the apartment threshold, forced to coax his ex-girlfriend into welcoming him inside before he could step in to gather the boy and his things for the next few days. Maybe she had noticed something off about him, or maybe she had not. Either way, none the wiser, the toddler himself was now happily munching away on a cup of ice cream, his father regarding him with an expression that rested somewhere between exhausted and mystified. “Nah, nah, daddy don’t want none. ¡Come!  It’s all yours. There ya go.” 

Money would be a thing, Hector thought. And the snack had cost more than he would have hoped. After all, for the moment, he himself was out of work, at least until one could find a way to marry train operation with vampirism. He rolled his shoulders as these thoughts drifted to the future. He had come to this place, once upon a time, with his son’s mother. And one day, she and their child both would surely notice that Hector was not actually getting any older.

“Oh…Jeez. Hey! No, no, come on now. We don’t do that. Say you’re sorry.” He spoke up at last as the toddler used his spoon to catapult a glob of frozen treat into someone’s hair. Hector sighed. “Do you need a napkin?”

more often than not, imi wore gloves. although written off by most as a fashion statement ( or in the cold new york winter, a necessity ), it was purely for function. that way, there was no incidental touches which offered the flashes of death. it was never easy continuing a conversation or holding eye contact after that. and she felt like she wore it well enough.

she sat in a booth near the back, a rum-based cocktail sat on a cocktail napkin beside the empty pack for a deck of cards. she was tired after a long shift at good omens; too tired to pay a visit to the casino in a dazzling dress, wig, and alias. but not tired enough for some card tricks. she shuffled the cards quickly, twisting, flipping and turning them between lithe fingers. she paused to take a sip  from her cocktail when a shadow cast across her face, someone stepping into the light that lit up the booth.

she looked up, an anticipatory expression upon her face, waiting for what was going to be said to her. she quirked a brow as if to give permission for the words, a small smile pressing to her lips to let them know she was more friendly than fearsome. 

Besides food, there were two things that could not miss on a picnic, and it was his guitar and a flower crown, it just wasn’t the same for him when those two things weren’t present, so of course that every time he made a picnic, he had both of them. He loved to stay under a tree sat down, with flowers on his head, while he jammed a song on his guitar. He always had an extra flower crown in case someone joined him, which happened before. After eating his lunch, he rested his back on a tree, and started to play a song, he closed his eyes for a second, before he felt someone’s presence, and opened them once again, but didn’t stop playing, “If you want the flower crown, you can go ahead and take it,” the extra one was on the picnic towel, ready for anyone that wanted it to take it.