Not Honest: An Original RPG

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

oldestbeloved @ 08:36 pm: Maybe he should go into prostitution. Running prostitutes, of course, not prostituting himself.

Some of the talent he signed on certainly were little better than prostitutes. They needed so little encouragement to slut themselves out for the sake of their label, their song, whatever happened to be hot at the moment. There were a few who knew what they were doing and simply didn't care, didn't fool themselves.

And then there were people like Percy. In an ideal world, Sam would have been able to keep Percy in the basement and visit him whenever he felt the urge. Alas. This was not an ideal world.

Still, Percy was on his leash, and he liked that.

Tags: sam torrance, william percy hastings

heartofanangel @ 09:55 pm: Who: Cassie and David
Where: Some cafe?
When: Sunday evening

It had, she realized, been a while since she'd had a date. An actual date type date, with someone vaguely like her own age. And while she was still feeling a twinge or two of guilt about it, Sam got to play around, didn't he? So why shouldn't she?

She'd still washed off David's number before he came home though. Which wasn't until one in the morning.

She slipped out of the house forty five minutes early to swing by the studio and change at the last minute. Just because she decided she didn't have an appropriate skirt to show off her legs, and it was warm, so why not? And while she was there... no. Theatre makeup was just over the top. A touch here, some accent on her eyes and... there. She made it to the cafe five minutes early, even. Who said girls spent too much time primping?

Tags: cassandra donovan, david matheson

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

vampire_damion @ 02:43 pm: opening the curtain
Who: Damion and Pip
When: Evening
Where: Damion's club

Damion sat in his office, working, the sort of mundane things that came with being a successful businessman. Of course he had people to handle most of it for him but there were some things that required a personal touch. His office was on the second floor of the building, its large only window facing inward instead of out down onto the club floor below. The glass was tinted and highly reflective so from the other side it appeared to only be a rather large mirror. There was even a frame around it to continue the illusion. It was still early in the evening and things were only just starting to pick up downstairs. Damion looked up from his work for a moment before pushing it away and going to stand by the window. The music hadn't quite really gotten going yet and as a result, he couldn't yet feel the bass throbbing through the glass. He glanced toward the door where people were still filtering in. But soon that would change. He'd have to put in an appearance sooner or later but for now he was content to watch.

It wasn't idle curiousity that kept the vampire watching the people below, though. His gaze was that of a hunter searching out his prey. Damion was hungry and he hated to wait until late in the evening for his meal when it seemed everyone down there was on something or other even if it made them easier to bring down.

He'd just about decided to head down when he heard a knock at the door. "Enter," he called. For some that wouldn't be a good idea, giving permission to come in without knowing who was back there except for two things. Three, really. Damion wasn't 'some'. There were guards on the way up to his office and it wasn't just anyone who could pass them. That and Damion recognized something about the knock to suggest the person behind it was a known entity. It helped that Pip was having a conversation with the sentry outside Damion's door. Of course, that conversation was a little one-sided since Ivan had never been known for his loquaciousness.

Tags: damion sorosin, pace ian patterson