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Feb. 1st, 2015


Imbolc (open to everyone)

The weather in the City was pretty much always perfect. There were days with rain, but they were still mostly warm. But there were still seasons. In fall the leaves fell (the trees were never bare, though), in winter there might be some snowflakes (never anything like the one great storm where the City had gotten carried away), and summers were warm and sunny and nobody had school.

Still, this year, the City felt like celebrating spring. Not any particular holiday. Just spring in general. There were new people around, there were couples in love, and it wanted to have a great big party for everyone.

Overnight, it set up the great festival. Streets all around the park were closed off so that people could walk around without issue. The park itself was expanded to over twice the normal size. A great clearing was made in the center, stretching from one side to the other. There needed to be lots of room.

Through this clearing the City placed tents, stands, and tables. These were filled with food and wares of all types. There were representatives for all the popular shops, as well as some that nobody had ever seen there before. There were stands for balloons for the kids, too, free of charge. And flowers absolutely everywhere. Woven into the stands themselves, laying on tables, set up in vases, growing in every patch that the City was sure nobody would accidentally step on them. Colorful ribbons, some as large as crepe streamers, also decorated everything. The City wanted as much color as it could possibly get.

At one end of the clearing the City placed a small carnival. Rides, games, everything it could think of. Even a petting zoo, though some of the animals within weren't typical farm animals that usually went in petting zoos. At the other it placed a few stages for performances. Concerts, plays, musicians. The stages were all contained within their own invisible sound barriers, as to not disturb one another, but the noise from all could be heard on the main promenade.

It put signs up all over, put notices in mailboxes, ads on the radio, commercials on television, and even made Candy and Frank talk about it on the morning news.

The celebration would go from sunrise to midnight. At sunset, the City would have a bonfire, complete with a pig roast and s'mores. At that time, it would move the park closer to the water, creating a beach between for the bonfire to settle on.

Feb. 23rd, 2014


Must Love Dogs (Maggie-challenge)

It was another beautiful day in the City. Actually, almost every day had the same perfect weather, but Dinah didn't want to think about that right now. She also didn't want to think about the fact that Bruce was gone and they still hadn't Fred or the gigantic frog that could be Fred. No, what she needed was a walk to clear her head. Maybe she was even hoping that she'd spot a certain gigantic frog in the park. It couldn't hurt after all.

Instead, she passed by a woman with a group of dogs and something very strange happened. Dinah wasn't really sure what happened because it was like something came over her, but before she knew it, she had two of those dogs attached to her by a leash. She looked down at the cuff that had attached itself to her wrist and tugged at it. There had to be some mistake here, didn't there? When she realized that she couldn't detach the cuff/leash combo from her wrist, she looked over at the apparent owner of the dogs in some confusion.

"I'm sorry, but I seem to have gotten attached to some of your dogs."

There was a question in her voice, but a lack of suspicion. While anything was possible, including this woman being the cause of her getting attached to two rambunctious dogs, it was just as likely that the City was behind it.

And speaking of the City... Dinah spotted a piece of paper taped to a bench. She was fairly sure that paper hadn't been there before. She moved a little closer and read out loud: "One time you could have a sip of Blood in one corner and talk about ending a few leeches at another. Now you have to make a trip to two places. Try to combine them for one last great night, just don't get (un)dead."

She looked over at the woman, eyebrow quirked.

"I don't suppose you'd know anything about this?"

Oct. 6th, 2013


Blood tests (Maggie, Hannibal)

The petite vampire wore one of her cuter pinker outfits. She looked more like a 50s tv mother than the sexed up vamp Maggie met in Purgatory. Her hair was kept in place by a wide headband that matched her kitten pumps, gloves, belt and the trim on her dress. Yes, she could put quite the outfit together. Tonight Maggie was seeing Pam as she was when she wasn't at work and still felt like dressing up.

She had allowed the human to make the arrangements, only after getting permission from Eric. The doctor was trusted with her Maker and his bride, though Pam was only interested in what the Viking thought of the young man. She'd picked up the other woman in a white Pontiac Firebird, one she'd found one night and taken a liking to.

It didn't take her long to get them to the clinic for the appointment, and soon she was helping Maggie out of the car.

"I hope this doesn't take long." There was a flash of fang to explain why she may want things to go quicker.

Sep. 23rd, 2013


little loss (open)

Lestat sat on his balcony, watching the City.

His eyes shone in the failing light, but his body was utterly still. He watched passersby in the early evening air, one eyebrow raised, a distant expression on his face.

He was growing tired of loss.

Lestat's time in the City was not short. He had, he knew, been here for six or seven years. He could not be fully certain; it wasn't as though he'd ticked off marks on his wall or anything like that.

But it was growing.

He looked to the people that he found interesting to keep him both entertained and on the wagon, so to speak. When those people could not be found, Lestat grew more and more upset with his circumstances.

He felt toyed with.

It occurred to him the previous evening that he had not seen his pseudo-grandson in a while. Logan. So he'd reached for him, looked for him.

And Logan was gone.

Well, then, Lestat reasoned, Veronica, his bright girlfriend, she should be very easy to find, very easy to hear over the din of minds in this place.

And Veronica was gone, too.

In a corner of his heart that was full of cobwebs and reserved for romantic notions, Lestat hoped that they'd ended up back in the same place again, together. But he could not know that was a true thing, and he'd lost two more people that he found worthwhile.

He did not like being at the mercy of this place.

And so, he felt feverishly among the minds of the people passing below for someone interesting.

A distraction. Someone to make him not care that he didn't seem to have a way out, while so many others did.

Jul. 25th, 2013


girls in scarlet (Pam)

There had been far too many quiet evenings at home alone. Maggie was not, by nature, someone who liked being solitary, which made her weird back home. Her bulldogs were great for noise, and she liked talking to them, but when she waited for an answer she knew that she had been shut in for far too long.

But, to put it pretentiously, the muse had been with her. She'd spent the past week doing almost nothing but drinking tea and writing, and she now had actual content to put up on her blog. And thousands of crisply-edited words later, she was up for a relaxing night out.

Make that a night out where she could blow off some steam. She'd heard about a club. A vampire club, if that could be believed, and considering that this place had no KA and Hannibal Freaking Lecter had written her a scrip for pain meds, she was pretty sure that it was entirely possible. The horror movie junkie in her said that she absolutely had to go, no question about it.

She sorted through her closet, picking out her third-sluttiest outfit--high heels, tight pants, a sheer cropped top, and left her long hair loose. At the last minute, out of concession to the early-21st-century aesthetic of the City, she added a bra for modesty's sake. She frowned at her reflection, trailing her fingers over the scars from her gunshot wound, and decided to leave it uncovered. Screw anyone who couldn't deal.

She grabbed a tiny purse, left the TV on for her dogs, and made her way out to the bar.

Jun. 24th, 2013


So since I'm still here livin' (Open)

It had taken Maggie a long time to make her way to the City library. Mostly because, being a product of her time, she was distracted by the internet. It had taken time, but she'd set up her blog: Dandelion Mine, tweaked just the way she wanted it and filled again with her writing. She'd taken to hauling out her laptop and a dog or two out to write in various places around the City, still thrilled by the careless crush of humanity gathering together without fear.

So sue her. It wasn't fear that kept her from the library. She was curious about what Dr. Lecter had told her about finding herself fictionalized. The concept didn't frighten her--one of her Fictionals had written a fairly popular tongue-in-cheek RPF series that included Maggie as a character some time back--but given that the most interesting events of her life had been the past year and a half, which had also been the most traumatic... unless something really, really bad was coming up in the future, she could only imagine that the events of 2040 and 2041 would be covered, and she wasn't at all sure that she wanted to relive them.

Eventually the thought of finding out became like a wound that she couldn't stop picking at. The best thing that she could do, she reasoned, would be to find out what was said and get it over with.

She checked three books out of the library. A week later, she slipped them into the return slot, sat down on the steps, wrapped her arms around herself, and breathed out a shaky breath. She just needed a moment to collect herself, that was all.

Jan. 2nd, 2013


Poet's obligation (Lois)

Maggie had never actually applied for a job in her life. She'd started off like most Fictionals had: posting for free on public sites until she felt confident enough with her own material and online presence to send an email with a few links out to paying blog sites. It was too casual to be called an application. And even After the End Times, which was the biggest site she'd worked for to date, had hired her solely on Buffy's recommendation. She hadn't even had to send in samples, since Buffy had been head of the Fictionals and they'd known each other for what felt like ages by then.

The actual process of applying for traditional media had been something new. And exciting at first, until she got bored with the process. She'd nearly thrown the damn thing away twice before finishing and sending it in. She didn't know how her Newsie friends had done it, since they had actual applications, with references and credentials and licenses to provide. And it was so dull.

But apparently both it and her mostly unverifiable job history were enough for the editors at the City Voice, who informed her of an opening in the Arts and Entertainment section, which she accepted. She showed up at their offices, still antsy about leaving her dogs at home alone.

Dec. 7th, 2012


Verse For a Certain Dog (Open)

The pack of teacup bulldogs were getting restless cooped up inside the farmhouse. It was close enough to Maggie's farmhouse back home to be familiar to them, large and with plenty of room to run around, but they weren't happy with only being let out for the necessaries when there was a whole new world to explore. Or so Maggie gathered from their increasing resistance against coming back inside.

She supposed that she felt up to trying to take the better-behaved of her teacup bulldogs for a walk. It would be a good test of her recovery, in any case. The dogs were small--about the size of a particularly overweight housecat each--but energetic in small bursts. The innate laziness of the breed had proved helpful to her as she recuperated from the gunshot.

So Butch, Kitty, and Cujo were harnessed and leashed up and taken out. Just a few blocks and back, Maggie decided. The bulldogs tugged on their leashes, snuffling happily (and noisily) at everything they saw.

Nov. 13th, 2012


My Wars are laid away in Books (Hannibal)

Maggie sat at the hospital's front desk, hands in the pockets of a tastefully battered denim jacket and a knit cowl scarf pulled high up over the lower part of her face. It wasn't exactly a surgical mask, but since she'd apparently come to the Twilight Zone, she wouldn't take any more chances than she had to. She wouldn't trust the note left on her bedside table that had claimed that her Kellis-Amberlee was now only infectious through her blood. If the past year and a half had taught her anything, it was how not to trust, especially where KA was concerned.

"Ms. Garcia?"

She looked up from watching the other people in the waiting room and jerked her head to the receptionist who had called her. "Yes?"

"We have a room open now."

She followed the nurse who came to get her, explaining that no, she'd really rather talk to someone before anyone took her vitals, and sat down gingerly in the exam room. It seemed friendlier than any of the ones she'd ever been in. The lack of blood testing kits and bleach sterilizers at the doors was definitely off-putting, though. She resisted the urge to flip through magazines, even with her gloved hands. Instead, she sat and waited, hands still in her pockets, trying not to jitter impatiently.