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Who: Hellsing.
What: A belated (SORRY augh) meanwhile post because a couple people expressed interest.
Where: The Hellsing Guild Hall.
When: Oct 1, during the riots.
Notes: No headers, just an open post!
Warnings: TBA if needed.

Integra is resigned to going without sleep - not for the first time, and she's not particularly bothered by it. Being on guard is better than being in the midst of the apocalyptic end of England. One of her aids, bless his heart, has already taken it upon himself to appear grim and determined in the kitchen and make coffee a priority at once. She sends a missive to all off-duty employees, informing them that they are now officially on call for the next seventy-two hours, and settles in her office with the door open and her CiD set up like a work station.

Hours later, she sends another message, this time to all agents.

All agents not currently engaged immediately in Guild-issued assignments are to return to the Guild Hall. Agents engaged in activities not issued by the Guild are to cease said activities at once, and return to the Guild Hall immediately. Further instruction will come in person; no inquiries will be taken via other means of communication.

Everyone who arrives is given the same information: they are not to engage in whatever the hell is going on out at the Arena. It is not their business if people want to kill each other all day over there, but it is their business that the Militia is leaving gaps in their maintenance of the safety of the rest of the city. All hands on deck to do their jobs.

After a while, she makes a small note in her records reflecting Jim Kirk's AWOL status; writing him up for dereliction of duty in a few days for show may not please him, but in the event Hellsing is investigated, it is the safest path to protect all of them.

payglorytoashes

Who: Ilde and Rodolphus
What: good morning!
Where: Rodolphus' sad cottage in Sobek Croix
When: the morning after Antonin bought Rodolphus a million drinks
Notes: literally a million, read the log, I definitely wrote "a million" and so did Ammmy
Warnings: description of hangovers by a person who's never been drunk

Out of sheer stubbornness, Rodolphus is in fact awake by mid-morning, though he earnestly wishes he were not. There are spells and potions he could do or make, but right now, stunned into inertia by the fact this is happening at all, he is merely drinking water in his bizarrely pink kitchen. He is doing this by filling one of his three glasses from the running tap, drinking the water, and sticking the glass under the tap again. Among his few, dull reflections of the morning are the following: he really wishes he had not said that thing about Severus, he probably needs to shave, and at least nobody's trousers were eaten by anything. He believes, anyway.

It is not the conclusion of the hour, but eventually, he may come to see the night before as good for him, under a certain definition of good — a reminder that life hurts, like right now, but he's alive and things could be worse. He warily contemplates food. It would mean going out, probably.

civilobedience

Who: The Militia, the city, and you.
What: The Arena Riots.
Where: The Arena, Griss Twist.
When: Newdi, Eliaderen 1. (Monday Oct 1st)
Notes: Companion post for questions and plotting is here.
Warnings: Violence, police brutality, disturbing content and imagery, graphic death.

It's apparent even before dawn that something out of the ordinary is happening. Canton sheriffs are roused from their sleep or pulled away from their work to be told that on no uncertain terms, today will be a day that they do not leave their neat lines on the map. That their individual offices will be responsible for all crime and unrest within their jurisdictions, with no help; the powers that be offer no details, but the creeping feeling in their presence suggests no questions would be tolerated anyway – the implication that they'll all be watched is a strong one. In Mog Hill, Sheriff Norrington proceeds as he always does under such orders. In Mafaton, leadership is stoic but one deputy laughs, sharp and bitter, while the Emissary of the Council merely checks his watch, unseen underground. Sir Hellsing is pulled away from her dinner in the Guild Hall, a Sobek Croix deputy anxiously relaying the news. The sound of shattered glass disturbs the pre-dawn silence in Flyside, a brick hurled by some faceless figure into the front window of Thames – and nothing else.

From the Spire, hooded Militiamen move quietly and uniformly south, to Griss Twist. They are followed by wagons, full of prisoners.

mightyfallen

Who: Jack and Raylan
What: A discreet meeting
Where: A bar in Kinken
When: Backdated to Shundi evening

( sleeps unaware of the clarion call )

exterrorist

Who: Kalenedral, John, and Jacqueline
What: hi welcome to Baedal here's your complimentary fruit basket
Where: the Valhalla Inn
When: some time after Njoki lets Kalenedral out of the arrival room
Notes: n/a
Warnings: does not actually contain a fruit basket

Well, that was definitely a day. Checking out schools and places to live near those schools is sort of tiresome to begin with, and having to drag Jacqueline with him isn't fun for either of them. She misses her mom, and John misses Ana's competence. They both have strong independent streaks, but John is used to being on his own and only taking care of himself, while Ana had to raise her younger sister and is actually a good parent.

Something from lunch today made Jacqueline feel sick. She had to go barf in a women's restroom while John tried not to wring his hands, and now they're back at the Inn early; fortunately, Jacqueline had perked back up on the way and seems fine again. John is trying to tell himself that you can't take a kid to the doctor every time they throw up, then wondering if that still applies in Baedal, where there could be fifty million new diseases. But everybody's a transplant and the city isn't overcome with a new disease every other month, so there must be something at work, here. But what if! But that's ridiculous, calm down —

He has to stop short to not run into Jacqueline, who was walking ahead of him and had just passed the common room.

"Dad dad there is a thing in there," she hisses with exactly that lack of punctuation, and John has had a careful talk with her about xenians and people who look different from the people she's accustomed to seeing, and she knows about mutants anyway, so a 'thing' must be something very unusual indeed.

"Not a thing," he reminds her, taking her hand. "Let's go see. We can say hi."

Still, he's cautious in escorting her into the common room, prepared to see a non-humanoid entity of some sort — a thirty something, scruffy-looking man with a neck tattoo and a solemn-faced seven year old girl with red rain boots.

kalenedral

Who: Kalenedral, Solomon Koenig, whomever else~
What: Hellsing acquiring a blacksmith and another butt-kicker. And whatever other hijinks any random folks want to stir up. Open scene~
Where: Hellsing GH
When: A day after Kal's arrival in town, late evening.
Notes: I'm in yer guild hall, bein' all dead.
Warnings: Will update if something occurs, but I doubt it.

( Do not look a gift deathcharger in the mouth. Even if their teeth /are/ rather glowy. )

rhinemaid

Who: Ilde Decima, Mycroft Holmes, Jim Kirk
What: Ilde and Mycroft read together.
Where: Queensgate & Winchester Memorial Park, Sobek Croix.
When: Sukkardi afternoon/eveningish?
Notes: Separate threads for Mycroft and Jim! If you would also like to run into Ilde while she's passing through Sobek Croix, drop me a line and we can probably make something happen. Also, obligatory polyvore.
Warnings: TBA if necessary.

Sobek Croix is an oddly soothing place to be, Ilde finds; passing through the forest always makes her feel as if she's getting away from something, somehow. An illusion that lets her pretend this is a different place when it isn't, not really, just this city's different face. It doesn't really matter - knowing that it's a comforting illusion doesn't undo its usefulness to her. She knows all about self-deception.

The way to Queensgate is a familiar route that she doesn't have to concentrate on too hard, turn here and follow this road and she can do it almost on autopilot, now, and that's how she's done most things for the past few weeks. Distracted and busy, she's let herself forget about everything that isn't one foot in front of the other or written on a list somewhere and nobody pencils in political unrest unless they're living a certain kind of life that she currently isn't. She feels a little bit like she's just waking up all over again, without direction outside the carefully mapped out path that isn't and can't be uninfluenced by what's happening in the world around her. It's like swinging between extremes; being a part of this city is what she wants, but not the wrong part, not the quiet, restless part that frustrated her so much when she first arrived, the people who look away and look through and just have better things to be doing with their time.

And not the part who think because she's started to show that they can touch her belly, either, because she's going to pin someone's hand to a table with a knife the next time that happens without her permission. At very least she'll consider it very hard, and maybe substitute something that she can't be charged with assault for. (Her students, at least the children, get a pass; their parents wouldn't if not for the fact that she needs that money.) A little violent fantasy- has probably hurt plenty of people, but keeps Ilde vaguely distracted on the rest of her walk through Sobek Croix to Mycroft's property, taking the scenic route through the memorial park just because she can.

She came out a little earlier just to make sure it wouldn't make her late. Punctuality is one of those other things she doesn't have any innate knack for, but if at first you don't succeed-

payglorytoashes

Who: Antonin and Rodolphus
What: death drinkers anonymous
Where: a bar in Flag Hill (one that hasn't had its front wall ripped out by the militia)
When: evening, after Rodolphus finishes Hellsing work; after Bellatrix's arrival
Notes: MY WIIIIFE/MY LIIIIFE
Warnings: not actually anonymous in any way

Word gets around, one way or another, and Rodolphus is somewhere between indifferent and grateful. It is an intensely personal matter, but people at Hellsing are more or less accustomed to his ways, and if they understand why he's a little slower for the rest of the work day, struggling to focus on his work instead of being the dutiful machine he usually is, that is acceptable.

He tries to make up for it the next day. It helps that the Flag Hill warding job is more complicated than usual, requiring his full attention. If he's slow today, he's also very careful. Hellsing has a reputation to maintain and maybe he does too, a little bit. When he finishes that evening, he walks for a while in an attempt to clear his head instead of apparating back to an empty house that will become an echo chamber of his own obsessiveness. Rodolphus passes a bar, then slowly backtracks to consider it. Tomorrow is the weekend, and barring any emergencies, he may not be required. And people rarely talk to him at bars, for some reason. Perhaps this could work. Perhaps he could simply sit for a while, alone.

deservesadaisy

Who: Ivan and Ilde
What: romantic evening in
Where: Ivan's flat
When: Givdi evening
Notes: No one but them thinks this is remotely a good idea.
Warnings: TBA as necessary

( a trip to the moon on gossamer wings )

gramarye

Who: Benji and Wolfgang
What: At least it's not technically an arrest.
Where: Badside, Weirdhaus
When: Sukkardi/Saturday the 29th
Warnings: Unpleasantness. Updated as needed.

( we make our days as they make us, as I must, as Odysseus, make myself my own Telemachus. )

gramarye

Who: Sirideáin and Wolfgang
What: Passing on a warning.
Where: Badside, a bar by the river
When: Givdi/Thursday the 27th
Warnings: To be added as needed.

( cause we don't give a shit no more. )

lupa

Who: GG Giordano and the Militia.
What: It turns out you can't bite a police state in the neck, but it won't stop her trying.
Where: Numerous places; most notably the woods to the South.
When: Across recent weeks. It centres around the Spatters raids and the aftermath, so slightly backdated.
Warnings: Police brutality, violence against children, violence in general, murder and horror, a lot of discussion of the psychological effects of living in a police state, distressing everything.

( show you what all that howl is for. )

caballero

Who: Bruce, Logan, Jason, and some friendly NPCs (no).
What: The Militia enacts a brutal raid, and your friendly neighborhood wanted terrorists interrupt it. This goes about as well as it sounds like it would.
Where: Flag Hill (west side)... for now.
When: A few days after the Militia announcement.
Notes: This is another one of those incidents that's going to get snagged by the media blackout and never reported on, but we're well past the point of no return with word-of-mouth about civilian-Militia skirmishes.
Warnings: Violence, police brutality. Samm's icon choices.

( leaders speak, movements cease. )

exterrorist

Who: Charles Xavier, John Allerdyce, and NPC Jacqueline Travieso
What: hi professor this is my spawn i am very sorry about erik please give me a job
Where: Madrasati
When: the Thursday after they spoke
Notes: FYI. Also, anybody who works at Madrasati is welcome to join in, if you feel so moved (PYRO CR IS SO ENTICING I KNOW >_>). Just start a new thread.
Warnings: n/a

It's been awkward, of course. John has little idea of what it takes, day to day, to raise a kid, even one as undemanding as Jacqueline. Just because she doesn't demand his attention, however, doesn't mean she has no need of it, or wouldn't appreciate it. He's not sure what the balance between attentiveness and smothering is, but under the circumstances, erring on the side of the first seems better than the other way around.

She did cry the first night without her mom. It's the first time he's ever really tried to comfort her since she was a baby. He can't be much of a reassurement, but he's better than nothing. He's at least somewhat familiar.

Today, she is interested in the El Train and its procession from Mog Hill to Echomire, peering out the window, examining other passengers, and occasionally giving her new red rain boots a casual but deliberate swing. Ana has never been much for restricting Jacqueline's clothing choices, apart from the safety concerns, and John doesn't intend to be either. Rain boots are practical, as far as he's concerned. And if she wants to wear a maroon... jumper dress thing with a many-pocketed vest, well, fine. Whatever. She's warm, pockets are very practical, it's Baedal, no one cares.

The Madrasati building is sort of old English gloomy, even though it's not terribly overcast today. John conscientiously holds Jacqueline's hand as they proceed up the path. He's not nervous, only concerned, or so he tells himself; there's a low level jitteriness in his mind, a controlled tension in his body and the way he moves, but he's careful with Jacqueline's hand. Jacqueline herself is a bright streak of active awareness, taking in the shrubbery and the house layout with equal curiosity. She is not accustomed to holding hands with an adult anymore but is tolerant of it for John's sake, dimly aware of the meaningfulness behind the gesture as much as the physical comfort it gives both of them.

perfectcameo

Who: Logan and Nuala Ní Balor
What: A clean break.
Where: Nuala's office, Sobek Croix.
When: After this.

( here fast the Arctic nights set in )

caballero

Who: Bruce Wayne, some Militia agents, and the fog. Later, Seoraj.
What: The jig isn't up, but only by chance.
Where: Serpolet and beyond. Eventually, Stoneshell.
When: Yesterdayish.
Notes: Batman can't win every time, also the Militia sucks. In this post, asskickings, and also an explosion; if anyone has a character in Serpolet they might have seen/heard it.
Warnings: Violence! Also fog horrors. And uh, feelings.

( and you know me - well, you think you do. )

amberdrake

Who: Benevenuta Crispo, Amberdrake
What: The meeting arranged here.
Where: Valhalla Inn
When: An hour after Drake showed up in the game.
Warnings: Doubtful, but will update if so.

( Witty quote goes here. )

goodsoldier

Who: Adam and Jason
What: gambli— hey it's that guy (that other guy)
Where: a den of gentle iniquity in Aspic
When: after fight, but before hanging out with Bruce
Notes: is poker even a thing in Baedal? LET'S PRETEND.
Warnings: boys

By the time Jason shows up in a late night poker game in Aspic, his hair is dark and haphazardly styled, and his eyes are brown and behind thin-rimmed glasses; his clothing is different too. Obviously he's not dressed to head into the ring, but he has the rakish, not-quite-professional attire of a criminal turned businessman or a businessman turned criminal (and isn't the line so hard to see sometimes, anyway). Pissing the wrong people off here is also possible, just less so, and not nearly as worrying. The day he can't kick over a gambling hall and disappear into the night, he should just retire. The whole point of trying to make money by taking it from other people via certain patterns of pieces of cardboard is the avoidance of physical labor, which is not to say there aren't people capable of doing both, or people like him. But then, that's the whole point of scouting a place out before going.

It's not exactly a gambling hall, anyway, more of a dive where cards have taken over a large part of the premises and its income. And while it's not exclusive, there are some signs, some right things to say with which one can indicate they know how this racket goes and they're good for the money. Jason has shown his face twice before to prove he's a good prospect. Tonight he hopes to get to one of the bigger tables and see what happens. Poker isn't just about picking up on tells. No one likes a card counter, but a bit of that is necessary, and it's also the tells he himself gives off. This Jason isn't the easy, confident fighter from the other night, but a demure, almost shy young man with good instincts, yet perhaps, not quite enough experience. Someone more like one of the spectators at the underground fights, one foot in, one foot out. He even looks smaller, somehow — the cut of his clothes and the way he holds himself, by turns nervous-excited and sly, a decent player who is cultivating a warm welcome among one of the table of regulars for his apparent mix of both challenge and manipulability.

synergismus

Who: Everyone!
What: Events around the city, any time.
Where: Everywhere in Baedal.
When: Whenever you’d like.
Notes:
Behold, your all-purpose open game log. There are a couple pre-written starters to help you generate new and open CR, and you may also use this post to start your own group activities or planned threads. GO WILD!
No one is late to this post. You may use it forever.
The companion thread for this post is right here!
DON'T THINK TOO HARD ABOUT IT JUST RP.
Helpful links: Neighbourhoods, City Map.
Lucky Pastry Advice for the Month of Velldaren: A truly rich life contains love and art in abundance.

Warnings: Zombie horrors in the appropriately titled ZOMBIES! thread, otherwise TBA. Please put warnings in subject lines of your comments if content warrants one.

goodsoldier

Who: Bruce and Jason
What: an evening investigation into a militia dust up
Where: Tar Wedge, Raven's Gate, around
When: after Kalinda and Tom have an adventure
Notes: [16:03] claire: also i picked tar wedge because there is no description anywhere of tar wedge
Warnings: probably nothing!

So much of his stuff has been scattered to the four winds of Baedal bartering that Jason hasn't made any effort to get another version of the helmet he'd been using months ago. In any case, he's only looking. Head protection should be unnecessary. Tar Wedge is not a particularly dangerous neighborhood, and he's just a guy in a cheap coat, glasses, and a baseball hat. The last item he picked up from the bazaar because he didn't recognize the logo — some kind of stylized snarling cat, but not any team he knows from home.

There are some rumors going around, some of which he picks up in Tar Wedge itself, and some of which have filtered in through other sources. In a lot of ways, though, he still feels three months behind. Those three months are a tangle of activities. On one side, there are the things he was there for and remembers well, such as the anonymous broadcast, and here and now, there's this, for which he feels underprepared. Not that that bothers him, exactly, but it hardly needs to be said that Baedal isn't Gotham. It's far less forgiving.

He moves on to Raven's Gate, where blending in is more difficult than it is in areas like Griss Twist or Aspic, so he doesn't try too hard. The patches of lower populated housing could be a decent place to stash some things, he notes. Hopefully once he has more winnings from fights, he'll have some actual things to stash. If the hypothetically involved Vigilante(s) from the Tar Wedge incident thought the same way, he might pick up a trace here, given the close vicinity.

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multiversallogs

Multiversal

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Recent Entries

i'll watch as they drag you away

unfortunately, "I can show you the world" is stuck in my head and I can't think of other lyrics

The Arena Riots ( open, gamewide )

[closed] tracing a sparrow on snow-crested hill

(no subject)

[Open] The Sacred and the Corrupt

you wouldn't be so depressed if you really believed in god

are there even goats in flag hill

one of those bells that now and then rings [closed]

[ closed ] all of us like Daedalus: dead, dead, all of us

[ closed ] it is a bad time to be poor

→ my heart's aflame, my body's strained but god i like it.

movements come and movements go

with his back to the audience

yea, I will take the gloomward road

it seems like everything i've heard just might be true

[open] Whatever is prepared for never occurs.

people are strange when you're a stranger

( open ) liberate your sons and daughters the bush is high but in the hole there's water

surprise Batman is really the only kind of Batman

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