#darkdimensionstarter

[resident-badgirl-blog]

    It was the small things in life, that made moments like this worth having no sense of honor.  Faye had watch a bronze coin fall from some old person’s pocket, right onto a cushioned surface; making no sound for the senile geezer to take notice of. Some sucker’s loss, was her gain. The witch went to claim her ill-gotten gain, only to find another pair of witnessing eyes weighted onto her. “What? ” Faye inquired with a guiltless innocence.

[quitemean]

OPEN

Laying low was relatively easy when no one thought to look for you. For the better part of two weeks, Klaus appeared aimlessly and unexpectedly to old faces. Instilling fear, and the dread of possible hallucinations became his own sick, twisted game. There were a few places Klaus could venture without being seen. And believe it or not, the Red District (where he lived) happened to be his private haven. The natives could be compelled to forget him if any discovered that he was more than a simple apparition drawn up from inner-cast paranoia.

He was sitting alone in a local pub when the last empty stool beside him was overtaken by someone he may or may not have recognized.

[lastseraph]

An (Almost) Productive Member of Society

     Castiel spent the first two weeks trying to shake off the disorientation.

     It was a strange two weeks; he spent it wandering aimlessly, trying to get a feel for this city in this place where the sky didn’t shine the right color and the stars were stars he had never seen before.  He asked people questions; some answered kindly and some not, but both were educational.  He learned at least some of the laws of this place, and traded old coins as novelties for local currency, which didn’t amount to much, but at least was something.

     Two weeks later, though, and the angel still felt incredibly lost.

     Still, one thing had gone in Castiel’s favor: He inquired about a ‘help wanted’ sign and secured employment as a day laborer for a construction company.  The job foreman seemed to be amused by him, though not in the unkind way, and even lent him a set of clothes and gloves to wear to work the next day.

     The past two weeks, he had been resting in alleyways, something he’d learned during his time graceless.  His strength was not what it had once been; his wings were healing, but what was left of his grace after the Metatron’s spell left him at a great disadvantage, even if the core of him still burned.  Therefore, having a job and perhaps renting a place to rest seemed to be his first priority; at least then when his vessel demanded of him that he allow it sleep, he could do so without wondering when he was going to be attacked.

      It was before the too-large sun crested the horizon that he started walking to get to the job site, a renovation the Red Light District; the air was cool and relatively quiet, and Castiel offered nods to those few people out at this hour who passed him on his way.

[quickxtempered-blog]

Wanda may not be worried about what the recent additions could be capable of, and of course he trusted her judgment; but he had to take a peek for himself. A lap around the districts, he’d be back before she even noticed he was gone.

To the world around him, he was a blur, a blip in their periphery, but Pietro could see it clearly. His entire body seemingly designed for speed, no outside source or power was needed for him, it all came from within, part of his very DNA. It made him practically untraceable. 

Stopping for a breath, he waited for a sign of friend or foe until he caught a glimpse of one approaching. “You work here?” He asked as he motioned to the sandwich shop behind him. Though intended as an icebreaker in order to not draw suspicion, Pietro did sort of hope they did.

[pauligualtieri]

  With 50 years in the running, Stevie had become somewhat the face of the Grand Hotel in the Kelemen Quarter. The place was owned by some of the higher crime guys in the Kitsune District, but it was Stevie’s job to cover that up with a more charming, friendlier apparel. Which is exactly what he was here doing at one of the hotel’s annual variety shows. A lot had changed since the 50s, but in the City of Darkness, they really knew how to put on a show; especially here. Though he plead to take a night off, Stevie couldn’t ignore the work that clearly wasn’t getting done. Which is why he was standing here at the ledge of the bar. “Starting a tab?” 

[thehauntedhuntress]

“What is with all of the people coming in here looking for booze and ice cream? Do you people not see the coffee sign?”

[darkdimensiongossip-blog]

Hey, y’all. So you guys should send in your gossip to me, Winnie the Bish. Or as I like to say, y’all should dish to the Bish. Or Ferguson. We love gossip; just a couple of best friends, spreading the word about who’s doin’ who and why. 

[atotalrush-blog]

“Because you looked like you could use it.”