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September 5th, 2009

don't it hurt so bad when you're standin' in the sun;

[info]oilintheblood
9/5/09 05:44 pm
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Bum leg or no bum leg, there was no way Connie could be kept away from the garage for long. Mike and Duff made it difficult, at first, but once the ridiculous boot cast had been downgraded to a simpler brace-like contraption, it was easier for Connie to get around and easier for her to convince her relatives that, no, she was not a gimp, dammit, and she was still capable of pulling her weight at work.

It had been a hectic weekend, everyone and their mother coming in for repairs before Labor Day. Every last second of downtime found Connie completely focused on her pet project, the '66 Mustang. Duff laughed every time her found her there, most of her upper torso inside the engine block and up to her elbows in transmission fluid and coolant.

"Jesus, Monkey," her cousin smirked. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you actually wanted to get this thing finished."

Connie grunted in response. Duff laughed and mentioned something about running to the post office -- again, Connie merely grunted. She heard her cousin's footsteps as he exited, and there was the rumble of his big old four-by-four. There was a brief pause as she reached over to the nearby CD player and punched a button. A few rasping notes from an old steel guitar played in the intro and as Connie kept focused on her work, she let the song wash over her.

'Just like a bird without a feather
You know I'm lost without your love...'

[OPEN]
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August 31st, 2009

smell and a sound, i'm lost and i'm found;

[info]opportunistic
8/31/09 02:41 pm
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Since the bombings, his appointments had eased up, people had called with obviously hollow excuses saying that they were busy or something of one sort or another had come up and they had to cancel. It wasn't that Brendan was at all surprised, rather that he had expected more from the people with whom he had been working for a few years now. True, some had stuck with him and weren't spooked by the bombings from earlier that month; obviously they had been targeting Other establishments or places the known supernaturals frequented for one reason or another, but there were a loyal number of his clients who didn't suspect anything negative would come of having their personal trainer, werejackal or not, visit their home. Brendan was thankful to those bold individuals for sticking to their guns and going on with their lives regardless of the consequences. While he didn't expect anything would come of being so open about his nature and the business he ran, he did know that humans would always fear -- to some degree -- what they did not understand.

Still, there were benefits to having unexpected time to himself. Slipping his phone back in his pocket, he ordered another smoothie from the passing waitress and glanced out of the window of the little café where he had decided to have lunch. Not by himself either. The text he had just sent would alert his fellow jackal on the other end any minute now and hopefully, within ten minutes, give or take, he would have himself some company. It wasn't so unusual for him to spring invitations of one sort or another on her, breakfast, lunch, dinner or something else, and he never had to worry about her showing up, either. He had known her so long that all he needed to do now was send those text messages and she would show up before too long.



[ open to margo ]
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we'll go until the world stops turning;

[info]speakofthewolf
8/31/09 02:25 pm
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Locard Guns & Blades had good insurance. Naturally, given just who the owners were, there had never been any doubt about that, but still, the sheer extent of the damage and just what that meant for the business and when it would open again didn't exactly fill Rowan with confidence. Standing outside the store in its current state with a pair of men from the insurance and building companies respectively, it was difficult not to wipe a hand over his face in silent frustration. The store had been standing strong through thick and thin for years now, and one well-placed explosive had ensured that it wouldn't be opening again for a good few months at least. There was comfort to be taken from the fact that the Locards not only had great insurance, but that they were also sensible savers. While it was true that they wouldn't be working the store for a while now, financially, they would be just fine.

The pair of men at his side got his signature on a couple of forms -- Rowan had lost count of just how many he or Elsa had had to sign since the bombings -- and left him to his thoughts, numerous and scattered though they were. He watched them leave in their separate vehicles and then fixed his gaze on the store once again, broken beams and remains of displays that hadn't yet been cleared up. The worst of the damage had been cleared up immediately, obviously, and they had carefully picked through the debris to remove any and all weaponry and ammunition. Even if it had looked utterly ruined and therefore useless, they had cleared it out just to be on the safe side. It would be downright irresponsible to leave bits and pieces of their varied stock lying around in the remains of the store. Denver didn't need any more trouble right now, not after everything it had been through in the space of the last year or so.

There was no use in sticking around now. There was nothing he could do by himself, and the meeting with the men was done, leaving him with a few other errands to run. As much as possible he was saving his pregnant wife from having to leave the house herself and getting things done personally. She didn't like it, necessarily, but he didn't want her running around in what could only be described as an unstable city where humans were giving any and all suspected Others longer-than-usual sidelong glances and wider berths than Rowan had ever seen. Turning his back on the damaged building, he headed back to the curb where his bike was parked and removed his helmet from where it was locked.



[ open ]
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August 28th, 2009

another tragic disaster but I'm safe where I am

[info]acontradiction
8/28/09 12:05 am
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To say it had been a busy day at the hospital would have been a massive understatement. For almost the entirety of her shift Abby had been run off her feet; there hadn’t even been time to grab a decent cup of coffee yet. The last week had been filled with chaos, at times it seemed like the whole of Denver had gone mad. The hospital had once again been filled with casualties of what some might consider a war but really it was just peoples inability to deal with the world around them; no matter what anyone said they were never as open minded as they claimed to be. The truth is people didn’t trust what they couldn’t fully understand and that was becoming more dangerous for everyone.

Abby just wanted to escape the madness that was surrounding her but her sense of duty prevented her from truly getting away from it all; so she would just have to settle for the next best thing. Maybe it was unwise to be seen in such a public space in her animal form with tensions riding so high but to be honest she didn’t really care right now. For some reason things just seemed slightly better to Abby when she was in leopard form, perhaps it was due to the way a cats mind worked or just the fact that being up a tree made everything else fade away into the background somehow. She couldn’t remember the last time she had taken an hour for herself and chilled out in a tree like this just watching the world carry on below her. If she had her way she would have happily spent the rest of the day up in the trees but the hospital was just too busy right now for her to waste the afternoon lounging in the park. She had been working split shifts and doubles for the last week and there was no end in sight. She had told the nurses station where they could find her in the event of an emergency and excused herself, slipping away to the nearby park to unwind as best she could before her next shift started.

If anyone thought the sight of a leopard up a tree in a park in Denver was weird they didn’t comment on it, although it was probably that no one noticed her perched on a branch with the foliage hanging down around her. Sometimes it was nice to become invisible in plain sight and just pretend for a moment that things were not as complicated as they actually were. She knew this peace couldn’t last long so she would just have to savour it until the madness sucked her back in.

[narrative:closed]
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August 20th, 2009

i dreamed that the world was crumbling down.

[info]thirdson
8/20/09 11:55 pm
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It had been a night full of false alarms, wasted time and energy, and as he walked back to the car after yet another lecture on how 911 wasn't a toy for bored college students David found himself wondering how much longer he could keep himself from punching someone. Maybe two more calls. Maybe just one. Maybe he would hang ten feet back and let Marisol handle the next one, just to be on the safe side. Maybe, if they were extremely lucky, the next call they got sent out on would be a legitimate emergency instead of a bunch of drunk idiot kids tying up the phone lines and wasting the city's resources. Beside him, Marisol reached over to sock him in the shoulder, a dry smirk on her face. "I know what you're thinking, Carson, and don't even. Don't fucking tempt fate like that." He was about to laugh and tell her that he wouldn't dream of it, even if that was a bold-faced lie, when a sound like thunder shook the air around them and suddenly the conversation was a hell of a lot less amusing. They didn't have time to turn back toward the dormitory before the shock wave from the explosion knocked them off their feet.

"Jesus fucking Christ." David was back on his feet before he'd had time to catch his breath again, stumbling as his sense of equilibrium reset itself. The front section of the building they'd just left was a smoking ruin, every window shattered from the force of the explosion, fire alarms shrieking from the wings that were still standing. Between the shrill sound of the alarms and the ringing in his ears that hadn't faded yet, he couldn't hear if there were people inside calling for help, but he didn't really need to. It was half past one in the morning at a college dorm, of course there were people inside. At least the damage was contained, the bomb apparently having gone off in the front entryway; being grateful for anything related to where a bomb had been placed in a college dorm felt wrong, but at least it hadn't been in someone's room or on a higher floor, at least there seemed to be a pretty decent chance nobody had been killed. He would settle for that right now, if that was the best they could get. And there wasn't time to waste thinking about it anyway, he had to get moving. Marisol, still sitting on the pavement beside him, was already on her radio calling for firefighters and paramedics - but for now, the two of them were all these kids had.

As he headed toward the building at a run, broken glass crunching under his feet, introspection was the last thing on David's mind. Later, when the crisis was over and he had time to think, maybe he'd think about how fucking glad he was to have that brute therianthrope strength on his side as he started to dig through the wreckage of concrete and metal. For now, he had more important things to concentrate on.

(narrative)
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August 15th, 2009

'cause i don't want to play with such a price to pay;

[info]oilintheblood
8/15/09 09:19 pm
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She hadn't intended to stay out that late with Mike and the boys -- but when the Denver Broncos entered the conversation, Connie found it kind of difficult to call it a night. One beer turned into beer and a pizza. And then another pizza. And then some take out. And then, well, if they were going to sit there in front of Mike's new plasma TV, then obviously they had to check it out by watching some college ball. It was only natural, really.

Needless to say that, by the time Connie swung a jean-clad leg over her motorcycle, she was full and very, very happy. The engine purred under her and she leaned easily into a turn, the streetlights reflecting sharply off of the mirrored visor of her helmet. She rolled smoothly through downtown, finally stopping at a red light. The car next to her idled, rumbling so low that she could feel it through her boots.

She felt the explosion, too.

Suddenly, that stopped car was screeching sideways, rolled over by the blast from the building that had just had its front lobby blown out -- Connie shouted behind her helmet and gunned the engine of her bike, but too late. The car clipped her before she could pass it, sending her spinning into the intersection. She gave the handlebars a wrench, tried to keep herself on two wheels, but the motorcycle had other ideas; when it came down on her leg, she both heard and felt her knee crunch. Connie howled around the cacophony of blaring car horns and curled into herself as the sound of screeching tires got louder.

[narrative; closed]
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waking up at the start of the end of the world;

[info]kakkab
8/15/09 01:57 am
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For once, he had been at the university after hours for something other than his job. Autumn was rapidly approaching and with that the start of another semester and another smattering of classes as he worked towards his part time degree. One of the lectures had offered Jeff the chance to run one of the study groups, the youthful wolf jumping at the opportunity, eagerly meeting the woman whenever work allowed as they plotted out the direction the classes would take. He didn’t remember the sound of the bomb going off as they chatted in blissful ignorance, or the shockwave that rocked through the small classroom, only a sudden and unexpected darkness.

And then pain, awareness returning to him with the sound of his own cough, heavy and wet. His limbs refused to move, Jeff blinking weakly as he peered into the dim of the room, once familiar objects and dimensions rendered unknown by the sudden shift. His new perspective didn’t help matters, the male slowly realising that he was lying on the floor for some reason instead of standing up. Something had happened. Something very bad, very painful and if he could just work out what, Jeff could try and do something about it. A few meters to his left came a different sound, a feminine groan that even in this state, he could tell belonged to the lecturer. Mortal and thus so easy to break… He needed his phone. The thought flashed into his head without warning, instinctively knowing that if he could just get his phone out of his pocket and call his pack then everything would magically become alright again. He needed it… Jeff coughed again; another heavy and all too wet sound, his chest pulling painfully against the movement even as he felt his lips become moist. Brown eyes closed against the sudden flash of light as the screen lit up, numb fingers finally closing around the all too small object. Maybe he actually just needed a second to get his head together with his eyes closed. Just another second lying here and then Jeff would call for help. Just another second.

[narrative; closed]
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August 14th, 2009

there was no time to put shoes on, you were woken to alarms ring;

[info]ihearyou
8/14/09 07:23 pm
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It wasn't often that Ben Thorpe worked late at The Denver Post, but every once in a while he slipped behind through no fault of his own -- usually because several things came out at once and he got everything muddled accidentally -- and decided to stick around at the offices at his little cluttered desk in order to catch up without the distractions that were ever-present at his apartment. It was just his rotten luck that the one night that summer when he did fall behind happened to coincide with the unexpected attacks on the city. Unbeknownst to Ben, the best thing he could have done was stay up in the offices where the chances of tossed furniture and flying debris or other structural damage would have been less, but he along with the other reporters working late heard the booms that echoed through Denver and the more curiously inclined immediately headed for either the windows or the stairwell in order to head down to investigate whatever was going on. Ben was among the latter, telepathic shields already raised to the maximum to shut out the din of confusion and the hints of mental panic that were hugging in from all sides.

They stood just outside the door for some time watching the unnatural light hit the night sky over the rooftops of the buildings. When the downstairs front of a building at the opposite end of the street to where they stood erupted outward in a shower of glass and smoke, some of them screamed, some of them fumbled for their cell phones to snatch photos or videos, and others headed back inside. Again, Ben was among the latter. His own cell phone started to vibrate in his pocket, and it was as he was digging his hand down to grab it before it could flick to voicemail that the world turned upside down. A crack of sound and a flare of light were followed by everything not fixed down being tossed into violent disarray. One of the interns stumbled into Ben and he dropped his phone to the floor before there was an ominous groan from overhead. He and the intern only had time to glance upward before they, along with the others who had darted back inside the lobby, were hit and partially buried by the debris that suddenly rained down from the ceiling above.


[ narrative, closed ]
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calm like a bomb,

[info]vouloir
8/14/09 01:07 pm
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No matter how much security was implemented in the place like Velvet, there were always going to be holes in the grid. It was a busy club, people came and went, crowds shifted and moved like tides and bombs were smuggled in discreetly, maybe in parts, no one would ever really know. Vespa certainly didn’t. When the explosion ripped its way through the crowd she had been near the stage, as old theatres went the one she had bought and adapted was fairly sturdy, it had to be for its capacity, and especially with the amount of therianthropes that frequented the club. Everything shuddered, she felt the first tremors as if they were trying to warn her and her reflexes snapped to attention. Lacey had been right beside her when the ceiling groaned and one of the huge supporting beams broke free from the plaster and bolts meant to hold it in place. In a swirl of blonde hair and long, ivory limbs, Vespa gave the younger tigress and almighty shove to get her out of the way of the collapsing innards of the club. For a split second seeing that the redhead was free and clear overrode anything else, but a moment later there was a huge weight pressing into her back and the floor was rushing up to meet her.

Breathing was difficult, the beam had her trapped easily, she couldn’t shift it and all around she heard the panicked shrieks of patrons attempting to flee the building. Obscurely, she could only think that she ought to be trying to keep everyone clam, but all she could really do was wheeze roughly and try to stave off unconsciousness which seemed to be attempting to close in on her from all sides. Get everyone out, was what she wanted to say, to anyone who was nearby, but all that came out was a harsh cough, blood dappling her lips.

[open to all :D]
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August 13th, 2009

burned out from exhaustion, buried in the hail;

[info]donoharm
8/13/09 07:11 pm
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A double shift had resulted in Tobias leaving work sometime late after midnight, drawing his leather jacket tight around him as he moved past the parking lot and out towards the main road and the bus routes; after working so long there was no way he would trust himself operating a car. He never made it as far as the stop, the sudden burst of bright light and sound knocking him down and off his feet before he had a chance to take it in. A canopy of blaring car alarms sounded around him, noise that somehow only served to amplify the sound of his own heartbeat pounding desperately against his ribcage. With a harsh exhale of air that was more cough than breath, he managed to brace himself with his hands, pushing up a little as he looked around. The previously quiet, empty and dark street was now ablaze with colour, dying fire licking feebly against a damaged building. Yet aside from his own heart, the area was strangely empty of human sound, making Tobias feel oddly as though he was the only person left in a bizarre place he didn’t understand.

Shaking slightly, he scrambled upright, limbs sluggish and refusing to work as they should, even as his brain frantically tried to process what had just happened. He blinked a few times; irritated by the unexpected wetness that was obscuring his vision. Roughly, Tobias reached up to brush both his hair and the water out of his eyes. ( Only when his fingers brushed against the liquid did his brain finally catch up with itself, neurons firing and pointing out that whatever it actually was, it was far too thick, too sticky, to be water. )

[open to anyone at the hospital or just a narrative]
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August 12th, 2009

you shut me down with a push of your button;

[info]behindthethrone
8/12/09 07:17 pm
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Given his reputation for being a workaholic, it wasn't exactly odd that Jacob had been staring at his desktop computer long after his secretary had gone home for the evening. Tolstov & Tolstov had been relatively quiet for the past month or so -- all that seemed to be left was the mundane paperwork that even someone like Jacob couldn't avoid. He only moved every hour or so, printing off this, faxing that and then returning to his position behind the desk to continue typing and proofreading.

Of course, even a hyena needed to pause; just because it took longer for eye strain to set in didn't mean it wasn't there. The old hyena shuffled down from his corner office and into the break room where he pulled his private stash of coffee from its hiding space at the back of the cabinets. He had only just started up the percolater when the floor rocked beneath his feet. Swearing, Jacob reached out and snatched the edge of the counter, moving just in time to avoid being crushed by the refrigerator as it wobble and crashed to the ground. Cracks spiderwebbed quickly across the walls and Jacob's immediate instinct was to get the hell out of dodge.

Which he did.

The closer to the ground floor he got, the stronger the scent of smoke and fire became. Jacob yanked the folded silk handkerchief from the breast pocket of his Armani jacket, holding it over his nose and mouth as he thundered down the stairwell. When he burst onto the main floor, he saw the extent of the damage;

One whole wall was simply gone. Windows had shattered, blow outward by the force of whatever explosive had been detected. Flames licked about the lobby and Jacob dodged them to get out onto the sidewalk. He gave a low growl, staring up the damaged facade of the Tolstov & Tolstov building for a long moment before he tore his cellphone from the pocket of his jacket.

And just when things seemed to be quieting.

[open to anyone who would be at tolstov & tolstov! or just a narrative]
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August 13th, 2009

a single spark explosion, negotiating with the dead;

[info]takeflight
8/13/09 12:07 am
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It all happened without warning, at least that was how Caleb would remember it. One second he was walking into his and Marcus' shared office with an open file in his hand which soon found its way onto his desk and the next the sound of a small but strong explosion had rocketed up the stairs and into the Homicide Department. With a curse falling from his lips he abandoned the work in the office and headed for the stairway leading down to the ground floor of the station, starting off at a walk but soon breaking into a jog and then a run with other officers and detectives following in his wake. As they descended there was a clamour of noise, shouting and groaning and panic all woven together in an uncomfortable cacophony. Caleb took one look around at what had a short time ago been the main entrance of the station; chairs had been blown back, there was debris everywhere, people were down, hurt and bleeding and dazed, holding their heads or cradling injured limbs close to their bodies. Dust was still tumbling down and briefly Caleb couldn't tell one thing from the other, scents and sounds all blurring together in a horrible tangle, his senses confused and overloaded. With a grimace and a shake of his head he cleared it and collected himself.

"I want a headcount, right now, make sure everyone on shift tonight is accounted for. Someone start taking names and details from these civilians. You--" he indicated the person closest to him, "--head downstairs and check on the personnel down there, pull everyone able up here to help with damage control, and someone get us some paramedics in here. Now." If there was a more senior officer in the vicinity, they hadn't spoken up quickly enough or Caleb just couldn't see them. It didn't matter. There were casualties to take care of, and after he'd issued his rapid orders he was in motion, snatching his cell phone from his belt, hitting the first number on his speed-dial. Even while he crouched down next to someone holding their head in their hands to check they were okay, he was calling his apartment to check up on his daughter and her babysitter; beneath the racket of reactions inside the station he could hear the distant, dull rumbles of what had to be other explosions throughout the city.


[ open to anyone and everyone at the police station as well as leah and/or mackenzie if they want to answer caleb's phonecall ]
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August 12th, 2009

ain't nothin' goin' on but history;

[info]constructs
8/12/09 11:34 pm
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Working into the early hours of the morning wasn’t all that unusual for Darby, especially recently. With a big project on her plate she had a lot of paper work to do before she could even start to get the final plans for the buildings drawn up. Yawning over a stack of planning permission criteria she reached out blearily for her coffee cup when the first bombs went off somewhere across the city, the sound dulled by distance and humid air still gave her pause and, frowning, she rose from her desk, turning towards the window to look out into the light speckled sprawl of Downtown Denver. Everything seemed to go silent again for a few minutes, she stood with folded arms, listening to sirens wail and watching lights flicker. There were a few flashes against the darkness that were distinctly not ordinary and with a start she backed away from the glass. At least one of them was a lot closer than the others. Like many residents of the city, the riots a while ago had made her more cautious, more vigilant, and as soon as she saw those fiery plumes against the darkness she began to react.

On the table to her right sat her little sound system -- she liked music when she was designing sometimes – which she flicked to the radio setting, simultaneously reaching for the phone that was resting on her desk. That was as far as she got. Reports of a succession of bombings at police precincts has been-- were the last words to float into her consciousness before the floor beneath her feet shuddered and in slow-motion her small office building gave a horrible groan, its insides turning to splinters and dust.

A wall shot towards her, her hip slammed into her desk and something hard and metallic fell on her, it was all dark shapes and blurs, the power dying with harsh crack what could equally have been her head hitting the corner of a filing cabinet that seemed to have appeared from nowhere. In a half crumpled heap, pinned between her desk -- which was shunted into the opposite wall to the one that now had an impressive hole blow through it -- and the twisted mess of what had been her filing cabinet, Darby’s eyes fluttered weakly before darkness swallowed her up.

[narrative]
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feel the critical mass approach horizon;

[info]breednpcs
8/12/09 11:25 pm
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Between one-thirty and two-thirty in the morning, the city of Denver was thrown into turmoil. The usual buzz of the nightlife was disrupted piece by piece as a wave of explosions rocked the downtown area and spread out into the surrounding territories.

In a rapid string of unexpected eruptions, three Denver police stations were hit first, and in the wake of the officers rushing about to take control of the damage, the city's major Other social points were struck; Velvet, La Cabaña and Bathory. The University of Denver was next, and then the bombs hit the downtown area. Businesses known for Other involvement such as Tolstov & Tolstov were hit by explosions, even Locard Guns & Blades in Lakewood was targeted by an explosive, everything coming to an abrupt close with the strike against The Denver Post. It was all over within the space of an hour.

After that, it was just a matter of picking up the mess and helping the injured.


[ plot narrative, closed -- please see the ooc post that follows! ]
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August 2nd, 2009

can't explain that it was somethin' to see;

[info]littlecopycat
8/2/09 06:29 pm
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Lacey had worked the late shift at Velvet, bouncing and bounding her way along behind the counter in the Velour Bar where she honestly felt more at home than she did anywhere else in Denver. Collecting glasses, pouring drinks and spinning bottles, cheering her fellow bartenders on and applauding the performances with boisterous whoops and calls made her evenings heaven in a way that she just couldn't describe; nothing compared and really, that suited her just fine. If she could work at Velvet for the rest of her days, however numerous they might be in the end, then she would genuinely die happy. The atmosphere and the camaraderie, the sense of comfort and family, it made every shift a delight to work. Lacey had never even complained about her hours, always excited to clock in and dreading the time when she would need to clock out again and head off back to her apartment. It was nothing against her cat, but it was just lonely. There was something undeniably empty about it. That was only ever helped by visits from the likes of Gaby or Toby or Nines, her closest friends and the people who had become like family to her. Lacey was someone who had never had any real flesh and blood family, someone who built it up around her, and she loved each and every one of the people in her close social circle. Their presence in her apartment, any one of them, would brighten it up. When it was just her, a lone tigress and her cat, it felt hollow somehow.

Having only managed a couple of hours' worth of sleep, it wasn't with her usual perkiness or spring in her step that she fumbled out of her bedroom, vibrant hair all in disarray, a yawn opening her mouth wide as she moved towards the door, the source of the abrupt pounding that had awoken her. A purred murmur of a mew announced Uno's presence behind her, a shadowing that stopped abruptly several feet back from the door. Lacey didn't notice, already reaching for the handle, her senses sluggish and her brain foggy. ( Opening up her apartment woke her out of her groggy stupor immediately, eyes flying wide, mouth dropping open in an alarmed 'oh', feet stumbling her back. )


[ narrative, closed ]
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July 20th, 2009

maybe we won't feel so alone, before we turn to stone;

[info]movelikesheruns
7/20/09 06:11 pm
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As predicted the weather on Sunday afternoon was nothing short of glorious, the few clouds in the sky were white and fluffy and glided overhead innocently. It had been a while since they’d hosted something like this at the Locard house which in and of itself was a little sad, but with the first barbeque of the summer everything was set to rights. There were two picnic tables set up on the back lawn, both with plastic tablecloths over them, one in red gingham and the other sporting little cornucopias here and there, clamped to the tables metal clips should the wind get up and attempt to whisk them away. What was more important of course was the food that was sitting on top of the tables; with Leah’s help in the kitchen Elsa had put together various bowls of salad, potato, bean and otherwise, they sat in their colourful picnic bowls on the tables in the backyard, covered loosely with tin foil to protect them along with a plate of hotdog rolls and hamburger baps covered in cellophane, waiting to be combined with the contents of the grill which was already steadily smoking on the patio, apple slaw, a bowl of watermelon chunks, mixed several other chunks of fruit, tortillas and Carne Asada. All that of course excluding the desserts, many of which were in the freezer or the refrigerator but would be seen later in the form of ice creams and meringues and possibly a signature strudel or two. What was a BBQ without strudel?

Bottles of beer sat in ice boxes and there was a pitcher of what looked suspiciously like margaritas. In all likelihood things would go on well into the evening, it was the kind of party that people were free to come and go from as they pleased without it seeming rude, when the air started to cool off and dusk settled in -- which at this time of year wouldn’t be until fairly late -- there would probably be a fire in the pit at the bottom of the garden for people to sit around and chat and drink if they so chose.

It was still early afternoon at present though, and Elsa had propped the back door open with a door jam in the shape of a wolf she had crocheted at some point years ago now, and it was through the doorway she came with a pitcher of lemonade in one hand and a stack of cups in the other which she carried over to the table housing much of the food and set down, pausing only to pour herself a drink, the ice cubes clicking against the glass of the pitcher, one or two plopping into her cup with a splash. A hand on her hip she surveyed the garden for a few brief moments, feeling positive about the day, feeling ready. Also, feeling really damn hungry.

[open to locard pack members & all bbq invitees plus dates!]


( ooc )
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July 8th, 2009

[info]runaway_world
7/8/09 11:11 pm
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[Caleb and Marcus]


It felt like fire burning through her veins. The blood was being forced in her and there was nothing she could do to prevent it...

Elizabeth awoke to the sudden loud thud and short pain in her head. Who knew vampires could have a headache? True it only lasted a couple of seconds before fading completely. She looked up from the ground and realized she had fallen off her bed. Nightmares again. Great. She had to live through it once why did it insist on reoccuring over and over again?

The annoying buzzing noise of her alarm clock went off in a way to tell her that the night arrived and it was safe to go out. Letting out a heavy sigh, Elizabeth reached up and beat the poor object into quiet submission. She rubbed at her eyes and stood to go over to the window and shoved the curtains aside. The sun had just set. The night had finally come; she was to arrive at the station for her first day of shadowing the two detectives in hopes to learn something to possibly start her own career from the ground up. Elizabeth went thourgh a billion different scenarios that could happen for her to make a good impression and have them like her. However, knowing her, she will forget them all and stand their staring as she stuttered seeming to not have a brain inside that dead body of hers.

Forcing the thoughts away Elizabeth went over to her closet and went through the clothes. An odd mix of emotions began to rush through her as she went through her clothes. What did a vampire wear on her first day to shadowing detectives? She wasn't even sure if these detectives were human or what...what if they were humans against vampires? She would surely be shit out of luck then.

( After going back and forth in her mind... )
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July 3rd, 2009

So many thoughts that I can’t get out of my head;

[info]modernelektra
7/3/09 09:36 pm
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Since becoming Matriarch, Natalya tried to avoid the police station whenever possible. She felt it didn’t behove her new position and dignity to be reduced to doing the leg work on a case; not to the degree that she had to go to the station to talk to a police officer about a case. In her mind it should be the other way round, with people having to come to her if the need arose; but alas, no matter how mighty she liked to act the whole world didn’t actually revolve around her. Just most of it. Unfortunately, it wasn’t good business to antagonise the law by demanding that they come to the law firm whenever she wanted, especially when most of the time Tolstov and Tolstov were fighting against the police in the courtroom.

Which was why the blond lawyer was making her way through the inside of the building, towards the homicide department and one Detective Dwight; ready to talk through some important information that couldn’t wait until tomorrow. And phones were so impersonal.

As far as his Other status went there was something about him that unsettled her sometimes, made the hyena in her restless, and want to break free of her skin. It recognized him as a bird, something even Natalya loved to chase on the rare nights she let her animal side loose. Not to mention that major block against him, his gender. Yet for all his faults, Natalya found she rather liked the Therianthrope detective when she could subdue her second nature; it had been fun to match wits against him even if he hadn’t actually been fully aware of the game. It had been so satisfying to watch him react to her mother’s death, even more satisfying to use him as her alibi. As good as Natalya’s acting was – and she was very good – some part of her had been worried that Dwight would see through it or at least be somewhat suspicious. Thankfully it seemed that hadn’t been the case, helped no doubt by the ready made suspects already lined up for him and his kind to deal with.

She stepped through the last set of doors, cool eyes scanning the area for the man in question, quietly slipping past a mortal officer without a word, Natalya dismissing him as unimportant and therefore not worth a second thought.

[CALEB]
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July 1st, 2009

well nothing ever went quite exactly as we planned;

[info]purplewinged
7/1/09 02:34 pm
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[just after this conversation]

Leah toppled down the stairs as she always did, legs too long and practically slipping out from under her in her haste to get from point A to point B. Aunt Helen was standing at the bottom of the stairs with one hand in her apron pocket, her graying hair in a loose bun, a spatula in one hand.

“Calm down, sweetheart,” she said, already moving towards the kitchen. Leah followed, slipping back into the shoe that had fallen off on her way down the stairs. “What’s got you so worked up?”

“Oh, nothing, really!" Leah said instantly, but her aunt raised her eyebrows at her over her shoulder and Leah relented. She could talk about this, she figured. Caleb had been over to the Turners’ place once or twice, and while her aunt often gave Leah sidelong looks when she mentioned him-—especially now that she knew Caleb had a daughter-—Helen seemed to approve overall. The fact that he was a policeman earned him extra points. “Um. I was just talking to Caleb. ( He's a pilot, did you know? )
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June 29th, 2009

when you're feeling all wrong in the back of your mind again, how does it feel;

[info]speakofthewolf
6/29/09 10:56 pm
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When the light of the sun dipped down low over the horizon, carrying Denver into another warm night, there was no sound to accompany the stealthy, smooth movements of the predator that slipped along the streets. For a wolf like Rowan Locard, the winter months were no real hardship; he’d lived a full century in the harsh Scottish highlands, where rain and snow and bitter winds combined to make life not only difficult, but miserable if you were caught outside long enough. For wolves it was different, it always had been. They were tougher than humans, could tolerate that cruel, biting cold. It was the heat that made them uncomfortable. Humid, muggy warmth that made him feel as if his fur was damp and weighed down with sweat even though he was only walking along in an easy, slow lope that betrayed the fact that he had no reason to be out tonight. Patrolling with such regularity as he had been wasn’t a necessity in Lakewood, not when the Pack was so large and so -- for now -- steady, but recent events had him on edge. It was better to walk off that tension and frustration than spend hour after hour in the basement of the Locard house, training with blades or even just going through the motions of some hand-to-hand fighting style picked up over the many years he had been alive.

It wasn’t just that something in the Pack had changed, but that a lot had changed, in a short space of time. Three departures. Three. One of them hurt more than the others. As a wolf, he had been built to live in the now, at least in part; that animal side of him didn’t care so much about the past or the future, only embraced and handled the present as it came. But as a werewolf, it wasn’t so simple as all that. Rowan couldn’t just shrug off parts of his life and pretend they were done and gone and didn’t mean anything. ( In that way, he had always rather envied Connell. )


[ open to victoria ]
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