#flockofpan

[sonderliing-blog]

August Texts III III flockofpan

              [txt] Evening, Father.          Can we talk? @flockofpan

[kei-oh]

( @flockofpan continued from here.)

Makeda Adere, exhausted and slightly disheartened at having her case dismissed, stormed into her office with her tattered brief case in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. Taking care to leave the door slightly ajar should the district attorney drop by unannounced, as he was known to do, she took refuge in her office, placing her brief case beside the ornate oak desk and pinching the bridge of her nose as she repeatedly reminded herself to breathe. Anger would do nothing to solve her problems. While it could often be channeled into something productive, it caused most to act impulsively. 

Challenges were usually welcomed with open arms by the experienced attorney, but this one was beginning to wear on her nerves, despite only being in the position for two months. Corruption was a concept and reality she was all too familiar with, having come from a place where the government had the courts in their pockets. That kind of corruption she could easily manipulate. It was no secret the Sudanese government officials were behind much of the courts ruling, usually swaying it in their or their friends’ favor. It was that knowledge that clued Makeda into who to rub elbows with when she wanted something. Here in Gotham, however, the corruption was nebulous, usually involving a mob boss. Here, she was an outsider, and no one wanted to give her the time of day- they just expected her to maintain status quo. Status quo, however, denied her power and ambition, and that was something she couldn’t accept. 

As she sat down and thumbed through the case she had recently presented to the DA, a voice interrupted her thoughts, which had only become repetitive. Peering over the case file, she saw a man, tall in stature and dressed impeccably well, standing in the doorway to her office.

Rather than pry into his cryptic statement, though her eyebrow quirked upward, she closed the file and placed it on top of the ever-growing pile to her left as she rose to her feet. 

“I wasn’t expecting company,” she started, eyeing the man carefully before motioning for him to take a seat in the leather chair across from her desk, “but I maintain an open-door policy for Gotham’s citizens. Please have a seat.” Not one to be rude to strangers, Makeda turned around to the coffee pot situated on one of the sections of her bookshelf to refill her mug. “Before we get to business, would you like any coffee or tea?”

[ofboomerangs-blog]

✦

✦ the first five names on their contacts list?

okay I am just going to go by most frequently used contacts or whatever..in now particular order tho)

Meloni Thawne (Mel)Axel Walker (Wanker)Lisa Snart (Lise)Sam Scudder (Sammy)James Jesse (Jim Jam)

@flockofpan|| (headcanon)

[faeshiftersmore-archive]

@flockofpan said:"Pan.has died." ((Main.))

Glancing up at Shiloh she blinked once or twice. Even with her hearing Rumple just couldn't quite believe what she had just heard. “He... what? But...” Eyes flickering away towards a set of special Fae charms the crime lord had requested from her for certain reasons she shook her head slowly.

“He had you though, and actually seemed to be getting happy again. At least as much as that utter morose and somber man could be. He... how?” For what ever reason Rumple was just having issues with the concept. Pan, Crane, Father Crane, the crime lord who had made a Deal with her providing her with information, one of the very few humans in Gotham who know who and what she actually was... Gone. Dead. No more.

Jaw twitching as she heard about the events leading up to Pan's death one hand started to slowly tap at the glass counter of her store. Mistaken identity by the police, they thought that he'd picked up the fear gas and mask once more. Confused and frightened one rookie officer had fired a shot. Unfortunately it had only taken that one shot. Proven wrong afterwards that he had in fact not picked up mask and gas once more the rookie had been placed on leave while an investigation of the shooting happened. 

Rumple's eyes went almost completely black for a moment as she struggled not to force her fist through the glass counter. “I shall have to pay a visit to that rookie and show him the full Price of what he did. Humans... Humans and their fear, and ignorance, and bigotry all killing each other and those that live among them. Sometimes I truly hate your entire misbegotten race Shiloh even if I have a liking for specific ones.” Voice going completely wintery ice cold her eyes had quickly returned to human even if it was a bit pointless as... well it was becoming more and more clear Rumple was something Other, and was quite unhappy.

[faeshiftersmore-archive]

Mouthy Fae

Closed starter for @flockofpan

Some times even Rumple wondered if she was entirely sane. The Fae woman knew full well that she was in the Conventry's territory, knew full well they had no sense of humor, and knew that every other week they wanted their money. All nice and orderly. Mouthing off to them never went well, others had discovered this in the past but sometimes she just couldn't help herself. It wasn't entirely her fault, the knock on the door waking her up from a deep sleep. Leg hurting with no real time to attend to it, dreams that had not been comforting at all. It had been a rather bad start to the day, but normally it wouldn't have been a big deal. If she had been able to resist the urge to grin at the Coventry man and taunt him.

 “Cute little warlock, I wonder what your momma will have you do when you actually grow up... or are you gona get stuck lurking about taking small little payments from businesses that really don't hardly matter at all? Maybe just gona be a little baby witchy for the rest of your life.”

The comment had made the mans eyes flash with anger and suddenly she found herself being back handed hard enough for her head to hit the alleyway wall. Of course she could have dodged it, but she had learned long ago that sometimes one just had to take a beating in order to keep things from getting worse. Besides, all things had a Price and she had mouthed off. The mans repayment in turn for his sudden strike would come in turn.

Another few hard strikes as the Conventry man growled. “Fucking bitch, learn to shut the fuck up and pay us our money! Next time I'll really hurt you.” A punch hitting her stomach then a kick against her ribs as she sank to the ground. Without thinking about it suddenly one sharp and long stiletto dagger was in her hand, but it went unnoticed by her attacker as he looked up to suddenly see another man stepping into the alleyway. Spitting on the ground the Conventry man reached down taking a envelope of money before giving her one last kick as she gasped out. 

“Baby witchy can't even offer a decent threat.” Giving her an angry look he shook his head and quickly left. “Crazy bitch, and lucky... if that stranger hadn't shown up...” Voice an angry mutter he went the opposite way as Father Crane quickly slipping out of the alleyway.

Slowly scooting up against the wall she reached up using her blade to gather blood off of her cheek from the back hand and gazed at it quietly before her voice came out ice cold like a winter storm about to cut its way through someone. “He oversteps, and with him others. Lucky I didn't just kill him here and now, but not time yet...” Glancing off for a moment the Fae woman actually shook in anger as her lips drew back in a silent snarl. “Oh but that time will come, and he will learn what real pain is.” A bit of glamour had dropped, eyes turning nearly pitch black as she whispered before blinking and forcing them back to human. “I fear oh Father Crane that you've come at a bad time, that you have. I believe my cafe shall stay closed tonight, I have no real patience after that... one of these days I really should learn to keep my mouth shut, but then it always has been my downfall.”  

[sonderliing-blog]

August Texts ||| flockofpan

           [txt] Good evening, Father          Crane. I thought I should let          you know that someone had          come to the pub today,           looking for you.            [txt] Also... you’re probably          going to think this is a silly          question, but do you play          the exercise app, Pokemon          Go? @flockofpan

[faeshiftersmore-archive]

Fae Cafe

closed starter for @flockofpan

It had been a bit of a whim opening up a cafe when she ended up in New Orleans, but somehow it seemed appropriate. If ever there was a place with enough foot traffic at night, not to mention enough of a supernatural community to keep her interested, it was this city. Open only at night from eight in the evening to four in the morning she'd already gotten a bit of a reputation. On one hand the menu was quite limited, a particular noodle soup albeit a delicious one, and then what ever she might have on hand. However it was becoming known that if you brought the ingredients and made a request, she'd cook it with no questions asked.

In addition to this no one ever cheated her, those that attempted... well call it a string of bad luck, one that followed them to either their death or repayment. The rules were simple really, no cheating her, offer respect, and no fighting in the cafe. All were welcomed, so long as respect was offered while in her cafe. There were rumors as well that certain special patrons and clients had managed to obtain different relics or information from her, and whispers that she knew quite a few people on all sides of the fence. Whatever the truth, the cafe had became a neutral ground that had a surprisingly welcoming atmosphere and Deals of one sort or another being made every single evening.

Stepping outside into the alleyway for a moment to dump some trash the Fae woman was humming to herself, to one with the ears it would sound old and whispered of the Forest. The cafe was a simple place, a long bar that wrapped around the kitchen with chairs. A couple of small tables against the wall. A wide door that had sliding doors expertly crafted out of wood and fitted perfectly so they easily moved and also helped to block sound from outside. The kitchen was small, but perfectly taken care of without even a single spot of rust showing. Oddly enough almost all the pieces that could be made out of wood, in fact were and were also seemingly hand crafted.

Moving back into the cafe she blinked and tilted her head just a bit seeing a seemingly random man who was just a few inches taller then Rumple was standing there. Casually reaching out for a butcher knife as it wouldn't be the first time some random mundane mugger thought it wise to threaten the petite shop keeper she offered a polite smile. “I fear that I'm closed now dearie, just about to close the doors and lock them. A pity really, I do so hate turning away a customer...” Voice trailing off for a moment her eyes narrowed as she couldn't help but get an odd feeling about the man. “Unless of course you are here on some sort of special business?”

[faeshiftersmore-archive]

Horse Races

closed starter for @flockofpan

Three different kinds of horse races in and close to the city... well technically four if you counted the quick little one offs people did to prove they had a horse that had enough worth to get into even the smallest “proper” race. However only three that were of any real value, and all three influenced if not in fact controlled by the Coventry. Small ones between three riders at the bottom, middle ones between nine riders in the middle, and the major one twelve riders. All multiples of three of course, the Coventry had a thing for threes. Rule of three and all that, now if only the forgetful ingrates actually properly understood such things or remembered them fully. Not that Ms. Gold followed such, but then she was hardly human and operated under her own rules.

This particular race was one of the middle ones which meant it was held on a proper track if not one as grand as the major races. Cane held lightly in her right hand, eyes focused with a faintly amused smile on her face Rumple had moved forward before the announcers even started to call off which horses there were to observe the track. The names didn't matter to her so much as positions. A bad luck charm there, a good luck charm here, a horse that was overly tired in one spot next to a well fed and slept steed that was ready for the race. A multitude of tricks both magical and non used by the Coventry and she was learning each one. The last two races she'd predicted the winner perfectly, not that she'd use that skill in a race not held by the Coventry as it would no longer work.

A finger moved pacing out positions silently as she tilted her head a bit listening to horse names and positions. Turning she blinked in honest surprise seeing Father Crane before grinning a bit. The man seemed to have a few people close by and was engaged in a rather heated conversation with one of them. From the bit of research Rumple had done about his pub it seemed likely to be his chef. Slipping up next to him the Fae woman tilted her head a bit looking up while touching ever so gently at his lower arm with her cane to get his attention.  This particular day she was dressed in a woman's business suit dark green in color with a white blouse under it perfectly tailored to her figure while her cane had what looked like an ivory carved handle and a dark wood.

“If you would excuse my presumption dearie, I'd suggest placing a bet on the horse in the fourth position. Not too large a bet though, but it is up to you. Also, once again forgive my presumption but here at this place there are always people watching and listening.” Offering a faint smile she raised her cane and inclined her head politely. “I'm off to make a bet myself, but I'll be by the railing in a moment if you've any desire for company. Although it seems as though you may already have more then enough.” Matching word to deed Ms. Gold slipped off gracefully and without ever bumping into anyone to make a bet on the same horse she had suggested to him fully intending to make her way to the railing afterwards to watch.