Not Honest: An Original RPG

thispicture @ 12:01 am: woke like a tree full of bees
Who: Brody/open... sorta :P
Where: Percy's flat
When: Saturday evening

Brody's sleep schedule was pretty messed up. That was, apparently, what happened when you lived with vampires; they didn't rise until the sun rose, and he didn't have a lot to do during the day. He'd gone about looking for a job, but without an identity, without parents, without proof that he belonged here so he wouldn't get his ass deported... well, it was turning out to be a lot harder than it sounded. And the last thing he wanted was to resort to turning tricks again. Way too dangerous, and disgusting to boot.

Maybe he should turn himself in. Get thrown in foster care. What was the worst that could possibly happen...?

Oh, but he knew the answer to that.

The devil you know.

So he stayed, and allowed his sleeping patterns to get completely effed. It was 7 in the evening and he was just now waking up, stirring from under his blanket on the couch and mumbling feverishly to himself in his sleep. (Something about kittens and paint.) When he woke he did so all at once, his eyes suddenly opening and sitting up abruptly like he'd been awake the whole time, but if THAT were true he probably would have paid more attention to how he tossed his head so his hair wouldn't end up sticking up in clumps in every direction, falling in front of his face.

He made a noise and lay back down.

Tags: duke-jeremy "brody" mcadams, open, william percy hastings

italiano_angel @ 10:31 pm: Who: Alex and Open
Where: Bexley
When: Friday Night

Vampire hunters amused Alex in all the wrong ways. The boy that Percy had brought home was still sleeping on the couch, which was amazing in general, but Alex was particularly impressed with the guts Brody had in staying with two vampires. Not that Percy was really there that much. He lingered close to Dawn, but usually behind closed doors, and in his own world.

But Alex spent his time investigating Brody, because he had the time...and he could.

Except tonight the vampire had decided to explore, to see if he could find these so called 'Bexley Hunters' that he'd over heard a pair of demons discussing at the Black Drum. If nothing else, Alex was aware that the hunters could certainly provide him with the needed entertainment to make his days somehow less boring. Much less boring.

"How much is that doggy in the widow," he sang to himself as he walked along the empty road, looking about. "The one with the waggily tail, how much is that doggy in the window...." He never could remember anything beyond that. It was a stupid song, but then again a group of hunters claiming to be a fictional movie character that killed vampires with ridiculous flair was equally lacking in intelligence. "Oh where, oh where has my little dog gone, oh where, oh where can he be...."

Tags: alassandro deluca, jean-julian alexandre marais, open

lastgirlonearth @ 08:47 pm: Who: Felicity, open
Where: Scrawls
When: Friday, early afternoon.


"Are you aware of the evil that lurks in our city, hiding behind the guise of humanity?"

"Am I... what?" Felicity looked up and blinked at the guy at the counter, waiting to place his order. She was so startled, she almost burned herself with hot water, glaring at him as she messed up the drink she was currently working on. "What is that, some neo-goth version of asking if I've accepted Christ as my personal savior?"

"Have you?" The guy looked at her rather ernestly, and she just lifted a brow as she looked at him. He was a prep, but other than that he was kind of cute... before he opened his mouth, it seemed. She'd peg him at about 21, 22... and not the crazy sort. Just proved it took all kinds. She lifted her finger to hussh any further questions for now, and finished the drink she was making, handing it over to the waiting customer before turning back to crazy!guy.

"I don't generally consider that a worthy topic of discussion... What can I get you?"

"you don't believe. I could show you things. Secrets best left kept... horrors that should never be seen by the innocent. What would you say if presented with proof that the stuff of stories is real? Demons, Vampires..."

"Well, I'd probably ask a demon what he wanted to order... and I'd apologize to a vampire for not serving his drink of choice. So... what is your drink of choice?"

"Ahh... mocking what we do not know."

"Seriously? I'm a barrista. I serve coffee. I serve coffee when people order it. What do you want?"

"What would you say if I told you I wanted to save you?"

"... Seriously."

Tags: felicity o'hanlon, jean-julian alexandre marais, open

endlsobsession @ 07:10 pm: Who: Irie and OPEN
Where: Brent, near Neasden Temple.
When: Tuesday, afternoon.


Irie was drawn to the temple in a way few others would have been. The simple connection the building presented to her home left her longing, weary of her life among the mortal. In truth she felt worse for wear, her weapons left home and her heart no longer truly feeling up to the 'good fight' anymore.

This was the results of a champion long from home. The comforts of her life dragged at her, and the mundane existence that humans led was...taxing. Still, she had comrades here. It was a small comfort to be near her kind, but yet she still felt empty. A deep void that drove a wedge between the loyal and the wavering.

If you hear me, she wondered softly, starting up the steps to the magnificent building, give me the strength...

She needed to focus on her duties, not on the one creature she loathed...and yet was almost afraid to kill. That was what it was, wasn't it? Why her blade never could fall on him? Fear? An intangible, unmistakable taint on her heart that made so little sense it frightened her more.

And to top it off, an angel was found just the other night, badly injured and dying. She'd taken the scroll, if only for safe keeping, but there was little she could do with it. The script was ancient, a text she had never learned, and scholars of the mortal realm posed a pressing problem. How did one address the questions they might, assuming they could read it, come up with?

And what was so important about the scroll that Knights of Order would lash out at one of their God's heavenly messengers? It all left such a better taste on her lips.

Tags: duke-jeremy "brody" mcadams, irieaga moonshadow, open, phineas caldwell

ex_fizzy664 @ 08:56 pm: Who: OPEN!
When: Wednesday Afternoon
Where: Moon Park Boutique, Camden

A little boutique in Camden is finally open for business!

Moon Park (the shop) is staffed by Moon Park (the person). Today's been slow, so it's given her lots of time to arrange the window with her newest fashions. Clothing, jewelry, accessories and shoes are her game, and only the newest, most fashionable, and most fabulous are acceptable. An eclectic selection is included here-- if it's cool, it's here. There's a little bit of something for everyone here.

For Moon, there's a hot cup of tea and a delicious batch of home-baked cookies sitting on a table near the counter! Well, okay, technically it's for the customers, but there haven't been any customers all morning, so who's to tell her not to eat them? She baked them herself-- she'd feel upset if nobody ate her cooking. With an oatmeal raisin cookie dangling out of her mouth, she hangs up her newest designs in a rack labeled "FRESH".

"C'mon, people," she mutters to nobody in particular. "You know you wanna..." Because it's damned cold outside. Gotta go in somewhere before they all freeze. She hopes.

Tags: julianne "scout" monroe, moon park, open

seenfromspace @ 08:43 pm: Who: Pip and OPEN
Where: Corner market near Damion's club
When: Friday Morning.


Pip was walking down the street, head in the clouds as he hummed along with his Ipod. It wasn’t his normal deal, to be out when the sun was up, or to be without his skateboard or otherwise childish hoodlum entertainment. He was, however, running errands.

Which meant finding food that was not meant for undead, or the like. He still had to survive in their world.

Stepping into the corner market he eyed the rows of food with a disinterested face. Pip didn’t cook. It was why he remained so thin, and unfed looking. The boy lived off cereal, milk, and cheesy mac. Or anything else that was fairly tasty and easy to cook in a microwave.

The question today was…what did he want to buy?

Tags: felicity o'hanlon, open, pace ian patterson

outlawangel @ 10:55 pm: It’s motherfucking booze time.
WHO: Phineas and OPEN
WHERE: The Black Drum
WHEN: Early evening

He actually really shouldn’t be here. It’s beneath him. It’s not fitting for his kind. And it’s not like anyone won’t ever know because, c’mon, he knows more than anyone that someone is always watching.

But that dumb song is right. Sometimes you just want to go where everyone knows your name.

‘Phineas.’

‘Yep,’ he says, settling down warily on a stool.

He comes here too much. The bartender doesn’t even ask what he wants anymore. They have this little skit they play out every time, with the man getting him a whiskey and Phineas promising aloud to drink only one and drink it slowly. And the barkeep just dries a glass and shakes his head.

He shouldn’t be here. He should be out looking for something constructive to do, someone to help. God knows there are plenty of them out there.

But he doesn’t understand people anymore. They have changed so much over the past century, withdrawing into themselves, going through the day without so much as a smile or spoken courtesy to another, not their families, not their friends, not a stranger and espically not a stranger in a derby hat. And they’ve all got these stupid little things on their ears that they talk into and you can’t tell if their insane or not!

But there is one person who’s always consistent.

Jack Daniels.

Despite keeping his resolution to sip his whiskey slowly, he doesn’t take long for him to start feeling jovial.

His eyes sweep the room in search of someone to bother with his good mood.

Tags: alassandro deluca, open, phineas caldwell

thispicture @ 09:55 pm: been smoking too long
Who: Brody and Raven
Where: Outside a convenience store
When: Friday afternoon

You know what sucks about England? You still have to be 18 to buy cigarettes. And Brody, well, he's got this little baby face, he can't pass for any older than 16, which means he gets carded for everything... if he were a girl, he'd have an easier time, he thinks. Just flash a little boob. Unfortunately, though he can pass as female relatively easily, he's still got a flat chest. Nothing to be done there.

So he goes into a store and asks for a pack of smokes with as much confidence as he can muster, sending out all those 'I AM TOTALLY OF AGE!' vibes, and he still gets shot down. One of these days he'll find that one store clerk who doesn't give a crap and sells them to him anyway--this is not that day. So when he gets turned down he sighs and leaves, and then finds the nearest hobo he can, handing him a tenner and telling him he can keep the change if he gets him a pack of cloves. Hey, it always worked back in Kentucky.

So this is why he's loitering outside the store, looking as inconspicuous as one gets in all-black with artfully messy, dark make up and giant stompy boots of death. He actually folds his arms behind his back and whistles Dixie, hips sticking out. ...If he were in a skirt, he'd look like a baby hooker.

Tags: duke-jeremy "brody" mcadams, open, raven

gothicportrait @ 08:02 pm: Who: Raven and OPEN
Where: West London
When: Late afternoon

Expression. That was the key to most art in Raven’s opinion. It was highly under appreciated by many of her contemporaries, but then again she also thought most of them had so little talent that it hardly mattered in the grand scheme. Still, she was here, waiting for something to inspire her as she watched the darker side of London pass her by.

It was not, perhaps, the smartest of ideas for a beautiful, gothic girl to be there alone, but she didn’t much care. Once night fell she would go home, change from her usual day attire and become a vixen of the night. Her short skirts and tight corsets would entice and tease and then she would go home…to an empty flat.

It was a bit of a sad life, really. She should have made more friends, perhaps, but then what would have been the point that? Tragic artist did not seem to ever have that many friends.

“Where is my inspiration when I need it,” she asked softly, sighing. Mm, waiting was so dull.

Tags: jacoby wilkes, open, raven

endlsobsession @ 07:36 pm: Who: Irie and OPEN
Where: Outside Damion's Club
When: Night

Irieaga walked slowly as she eyed the club. She knew who it belonged to, she could almost feel it in the air as she paced across the road way. It was, in the words of those that knew her, insanity. It wasn’t normal by any means, at least.

Damion.

She could think of him every moment of every day and it would not stop the confusion that was buried deep in her heart. She should have killed him when she had the chance so many years ago. Why hadn’t she? Why couldn’t she? What was so hard about making that final blow that she couldn’t….

I will, she thought firmly to herself. She would. She absolutely would kill him.

Someday.

Tags: damion sorosin, irieaga moonshadow, open

thispicture @ 12:18 am: steppin' out of ketosis
Who: Brody, open
Where: A general store
When: Monday evening

He should have left.

Of course his life was defined by a series of should-haves and should-have-nots; of course, every decision he'd ever made had been the wrong one. He was still alive, though, so there was that, against all odds--because he'd been half-convinced that after he fell asleep on the man, Percy's, couch, he wasn't going to wake up, and his body would wash up two weeks later and he'd be chilling up there in Heaven or whatever, like, "Dang y'all!" to all the angels. But he did. Wake up, that is. He did that. And he waited.

Nothing happened.

Well, things happened, but none of them involved getting his throat cut and bleeding out in the bathtub like he was half-expecting. No, he woke up, nothing untoward happened, he retained all of his brain function. It was almost like they didn't know what to do with him and he was kind of confused. Why did he stay?

Oh right. Nothing better to do.

He was getting a little better at navigating both English streets, and English money. (What the hell was a pound, and how much was it worth in real money?) He meant to come down to the corner store here to get something to eat, since he hadn't really eaten much of anything since Daniel died--surprisingly, watching five people get slaughtered in front of you was a great way to lose your appetite--so it was probably a good idea to feed himself before he... you know, died.

Of course he got distracted in its paltry make up aisle, missing all the make up he'd left behind in a suitcase in a hotel whose name he didn't know on a street he couldn't remember. Lip gloss, advertised to young girls, was what distracted him, and he picked one off the shelf, staring at it. Cookie Dough? Really? Flavoured?! Good Lord. This was a whole world of lip-covering snack possibilities he'd never considered. What next, edible mascara?

Tags: duke-jeremy "brody" mcadams, jean-julian alexandre marais, open

lastgirlonearth @ 05:36 pm: Who: Felicity, Open
Where: Scribbles Cafe
When: Early Evening

She loved this time of day... the high school kids had gone home, the soccer moms were off making dinner for their sprog, and the business men with their damned nbluetooth headsets had gone off to snazzier nighttime establishments. The nighttime coffee crowd had yet to arrive with their psuedointellectual esoteric conversations, and all her cursory cleaning was done. Against one wall sat a pair with their heads bent over laptops, writing away as they had been for hours in quiet collaboration... in the front sat a solitary guy reading a textbook of some sort. Her time was, at least in part, now her own.

( She was tapping happily away on arguing with a classmate online about the global ramifications of Mao's Great Leap Forward when she heard knuckles knocking on her counter and a male voice asking for a Frappuccino. )

Tags: felicity o'hanlon, iliana sartosi, open

coyote_boy @ 01:20 pm: Who: David and whomever
Where: Streets
When: Midafternoon on Friday

He'd been in London only a few days and already he was antsy. Of course, that was because of the full moon. He'd spent the afternoon before wearing himself out with exercise so that when the time came to change, his coyote-self spent much of the time sleeping. So at least his apartment wasn't wrecked. He'd still be there, keeping in hiding until Sunday, at the earliest except for one small thing.

He had no food.

David hadn't yet stocked his cabinets and he couldn't stay holed up inside without something to eat. Well, he could, but the results wouldn't be pretty, especially when he changed. Usually, he would have thought ahead about this and it wouldn't be a problem but there was something about intercontinental moving that had thrown him off. He still was getting caught up with the time change. He supposed he should be glad that time zones didn't affect his freakishness in unpredictable ways. But still. Food.

Hence why David was walking briskly down the street in search of a market or convenience store or something to pick up enough things to get him by until after the full moon. "This is really getting ridiculous," he snarled to himself just under his breath.

Tags: cassandra donovan, david matheson, open

italiano_angel @ 06:46 pm: Making way for a new beginning...
Who: Percy and Alex and OPEN
Where: One of London's parks
When: 11pm, Monday


They stared at each other for a long time, the darkness of the park insulating them from the world, stretching between them like an impregnable barrier. Alex could only imagine what his sire was thinking as the dark vampire glared with unforgiving malice, standing tall and resolute in some stubborn resolve to not be the first to acknowledge the other. It was, in truth, typical behavior for Percy. The cryptic vampire was more aloof in nature than most creatures in the world, thriving on the sheer loneliness of his world instead of mourning its emptiness. It was what made him, gave him mystic, and the whole world could see it as he walked through the doors and stood amidst a crowd.

When Percy turned to walk away, Alex turned to follow, chasing after his sire with a dark glint in his eyes as a smirk clearly visible on his features.

“Don’t wish to speak to me anymore. You chased me for a decade, and now you don’t wish to speak…I feel hurt, Percy.” Alex called out once he was close enough, reaching out to brush his fingers against his sire’s arm.

Percy paused to look at those fingers, before his eyes narrowed. “You are the last person I expected…”

“But here I am all the same, si?” Alex smiled, twisting about until he was standing before his sire with an affectionate smile. “Percy, you missed me. Say something nice…”

Percy scowled, pushing past the boy with a moody snarl and stalked on. Alex could only laugh as he turned about to follow Percy with a bounce in his step. “I went to China for a year, you know. It was quite the adventure. No one notices when you kill the poor in China. Hong Kong is so full of people, and they never know what to say to you. And they are so…needing to please. Very refreshing.”

“Why are you following me…”

“Because you are my sire,” Alex cooed, leaning in close to smile are his sire. “Because you think so well of me.”

Percy probably didn’t, but Alex didn’t let it stop him at all. He kept walking along with the other vampire, rambling on about the wide world he had explored and smiling when the older one finally stopped and looked at him. Really looked at him.

“You can stay, if that is what you came to ask.” Percy brushed a hand through his hair as he gazed at Alex, “you can sleep on the couch if you wan’.” But those were the only concessions he was giving.

“Excellent…” Alex said with a beaming smile, “very excellent.” Percy never could say no to him. Never…

Not at all.

Tags: alassandro deluca, open, william percy hastings