bedazzlement: (feeding on my fear.)
[personal profile] bedazzlement
[So today, on yet another particularly chilly day in London, one might see any number of things.

One particular loser, wherever he may be, will find himself accosted by a monsternother loser, very large box in hand. On top of the box is a purple knit scarf, but tagging behind her is our friendly neighborhood antichrist, so maybe that matters not so much?

Another loser may find himself accosted by the same girl later this day, sans box and antichrist, with a green scarf. Any normal people could've just seen her out and about, of course, or in a back alleyway, with an odd bit of red on her. Eh, but that's probably not her, right?

Finally, and totally unrelated to any of these happenings, if you're over in the West End for whatever reason today, you might find yourself getting bumped into by a young man (?), a member of an up-and-coming theatre troupe. His manner is cheerful, if a little on the manic side you'd expect from an Emerald Londoner, with wide, elegant gestures you'd expect from an actor.

He is immediately trying to shake your hand.]
hairpine: (pic#5329879)
[personal profile] hairpine
[Christmas dinners are happening here.

Sorry, Kumagawa.]
hairpine: (2)
[personal profile] hairpine
[SO AFTER CERTAIN SHENANIGANS, there is one (1) crazy university student on her way home. ... Without a chaperone.

Again.

Some people never learn, but I mean, seriously. It's not like she's gonna get accosted by some gigolo having a mental breakdown or anything.]
hairpining: (endless past,endless faults,)
[personal profile] hairpining
[So today, people of London, amongst all your Christmas preparation, if you have a certain peculiar look about you, you may find yourself being accosted by one of two young ladies:

The first, a tall, black-haired girl of about 18 years, speaking in polite, carefully measured words, energy running wild and electric right beneath them, "Pardon me."

And the second, a much, much shorter blonde girl... maybe 14 years old, but her age is hard to place. She is far more blunt, making an attempt at tugging your sleeve, staring right into your eyes with her... boatlights. Blue and gold. "Hi," she starts, flatly.

What do you do?]
innocentralized: (I grow calloused by habit,)
[personal profile] innocentralized
[WELL, THAT ALL ENDED WELL.

As usual (why is this usual, again? Damn it, London), people have to resume their everyday lives. Time waits for no man, after all. No man, no woman, no one inbetween. This is exactly why Michi can be found hitting the books outside at her usual cafe! ... Or more like. Sitting there, staring death into the book until its information sticks in her brain. She plays with her hair idly and watches as the people pass by, head sort of lolling off to the side in a very unladylike fashion -- she couldn't look any more bored if she tried to.

But if that's not your cup of tea, feel free to head on down to the Thames, where you'll see a young blonde girl, approximately age sixteen, washed up on the shore. Her clothing is a good 61 years younger than "today's" fashions, for anyone that would notice. A cute, yellow dress. A-line, floral print. Very 40s.

She doesn't scream. She doesn't even try coughing the water out of her lungs. All she does is sit up and look around the area, with wide eyes -- one blue, one a brilliant gold.]
hairpining: (entangled deep inside my heart,)
[personal profile] hairpining
[It's been a long few days for everyone. ... Or, I guess it's been a long few days for anyone concerned with Dagon, however that might be -- for the rest, time marches on. There's no time to waste with thinking over such trifles as massacres.

But dead bodies seemed pretty neat. Michi had never seen a dead body before! This made it interesting and new, which meant that yes, clearly, it was time to go check out The Order's old churches. Maybe someone left one there.

... But then she recalls the paper her father was reading. Of course, all the churches burned down. If you're watching her, you can actually see the moment the realization sets in on her face, as she goes from cheerfully heading to one of the old locations to grumpily turning around.

And then she stops you. Yes, you.

If you're familiar with King's College, you might recognize her, but not necessarily in a positive way.]


Pardon me.

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