A city that never sleeps
The world isn't as it seems, and New Yorkers certainly know that well. While the element Asterium is not widely understood, those in the city's underground know better. For millenia, humans have known of this energy. They called those born with it in their bones changelings and mutants. Legends have told of werewolves and vampires for centuries. Those who can harness it became witches and warlocks. All they know now is that some things are better kept secret, and where else can you hide a secret better than New York City?
NEW YORK TIMES
07/07/2020 It's been (technically) our first month! Thanks to everyone who's joined us, and for more announcements, please check HERE for in-game and new developments!
17/06/2020There are staff & RP position tryouts here!
23/05/2020 Trying to gauge interest right now! If you want to help out and potentially take one of the leadership positions, please message me! (either on achromatic#7519 on discord or if you have my skype!)
A SUPERNATURAL ROLEPLAY SITE
Modus Operandi achromatic
Blueprint is a premade Proboards v5 theme designed and built by punki of Adoxography and Pixel Perfect. MODUS OPERANDI is the work of the mind of achromatic. All characters and content are copyright their creators, and may not be replicated without their creators' permission. All images belong to their original owners.
coincidentia oppositorum
CURRENT PLOT
We are currently starting up, and trialing some of the groups right now! There will be an upcoming plot in regards to some city shenanigans soon, but for now, we're simply fixing up the kinks and establishing roles/groups/characters. Feel free to join us! The community and the lore is still being built, and we're always open to new suggestions.
UPCOMING EVENTS
The strange Fourth of July groundhog day event is coming up! Please sign up HERE!
one kiss from you and I'm drunk up on your potion
achromatic
Member
She / Her
GMT / GMT+8
achromatic#7519
my life is just constantly existing at ungodly hours
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Post by achromatic on Jun 14, 2020 9:16:55 GMT
The sun was starting to set when he got off the Ferry. For a man who could afford owning one of the up-and-coming cocktail bars in the city, Hywel surprisingly rarely took a car. Part of him just thought it useless; what was the point of getting a car in a city where the traffic never moved? Another part of it was just moments like this. While the metro was probably the quickest way to Brooklyn, he couldn't help himself when he hopped onto the ferry; the sun was always warm and while the boat was constantly a tourist haven, it was a beautiful place to be.
His bag hanging from a shoulder, dressed in his usual eccentricities–today, it was his shrimp cocktail patterned shirt and red studded leather pants today–and this part of Brooklyn really did fit him. At least he wasn't the only one dressed in bright colours–tourists and locals alike constantly hung about, taking pictures of the bridge in the background as he chuckled to himself. The Gilded Hand should be open by now; he could see the light from the windows in the distance. Reaching into his bag for the keys to the back, he stopped in his tracks when he felt something soft and warm inside.
Wait...what? He opened the bag, to see the baby blues of a ragdoll kitten looking up at him. A groan left his mouth. "Jesus Christ," he grumbled, as the kitten gave him a meow, brushing its head against his hand. He frowned, giving the cat a stern look. "You know, Rhiannon's going to kill me, right? You can't just sneak into my bad every time I leave her apartment, and you can't keep sneaking into mine either."
He sighed. There was no point in going back home to drop the cat off. "Guess you'll just have to behave," he grumbled; at least he wasn't actually on staff tonight. He had meant to just go in, finish up whatever paperwork he had left, maybe chat with a few of his staff and the regulars, see how everything was going, before heading home. Sylvan could always just stay in the office...ugh. Whatever. The cat had already begun climbing onto his arm, its claws not quite sharp enough to hurt him.
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Jun 14, 2020 15:36:26 GMT
Post by stormaf on Jun 14, 2020 15:36:26 GMT
Hunter
She was late to do her last shut-in delivery! She'd actually sold three books today, with the last customer coming in right before closing. In a panic, Hunter loosely bundled up three novels, Harlequin Romances, in a scarf she had sitting about, and trotted to the store's front door. Juggling books, handbag and keys, she locked up and set off down the street, thinking about how the nice Mrs. Wittershall would be disappointed in her tardiness, but would still offer her a cup of hot tea and some homemade scones.
If she was lucky, she'd be able to grab something at a restaurant on the way home. Currently, her kitchen consisted of an old Coldspot fridge, a Formica table with two mismatched chairs and a microwave on the counter. Thank heaven she had brought a few dishes, pots and pans, plus cutlery from home. Not that she ever used them, much. You'd think that after three weeks in the city, she'd be eating more at the apartment than at restaurants and delis. At least when eating out, one had the feeling of having company.
She was in the process of dragging her wallet out of her handbag to check her available finances when, rounding a corner, she ran into the back of a man who had stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk. The scarf holding the three paperbacks let go and the books cascaded to the sidewalk.
Amid a torrent of apologies, Hunter bent over to begin retrieving her precious cargo.
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achromatic
Member
She / Her
GMT / GMT+8
achromatic#7519
my life is just constantly existing at ungodly hours
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Jun 14, 2020 15:49:59 GMT
Post by achromatic on Jun 14, 2020 15:49:59 GMT
Sylvan was just climbing on top of Hywel shoulder to the multiple coos and 'awwws' of the bystanders around him. He had to admit, the kitten was cute, even if the fluffy thing was a demon, constantly sneaking out of Rhiannon's apartment, enough that she'd be knocking at his door asking him to take the cat for the night. He swore the cat knew exactly what he was doing; that devious look in its eye wasn't just a play of light, that was for sure.
The kitten let out a meow and a second later, he felt someone crash into him, the man stumbling as books fell into him, sending him to the floor. Huh? He looked up, about to give whoever it was a scowl, but the apologies had already started flying out of the woman's mouth. Well, how could he stay angry...
"It's fine," he grabbed his bag from the ground, dusting the mustard yellow leather off, glancing to the book next to him. He grabbed it, handing it over to the woman as Sylvan peered curiously towards her, climbing onto the man's head. Great, at least the cat wasn't injured. Seemed like he was the only one who got out of this unscathed.
"You all right?" he asked carefully, "you're not hurt, are you?"
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Jun 14, 2020 16:39:16 GMT
Post by stormaf on Jun 14, 2020 16:39:16 GMT
Hunter
"What -- Oh, me? No I'm fine," Hunter babbled as she grabbed at her keys and wallet, still lying on the sidewalk, "Just great, thanks. I'm so sorry."
Fingers reached for the wallet from the small crowd standing there and Hunter immediately stomped on them. There was a muffled squawk from the potential thief. She scooped up the wallet. Without looking up, she began to try to dust off the poor man's pants leg with the scarf and promptly lost another book. She retrieve it muttering what sounded like 'latest delivery ever' and stood up again with a heavy sigh. Now she took a moment to straighten herself up and looked at her unfortunate victim.
He was dressed in a very chic way, compared to her jeans and warm green sweatshirt. The front of her shirt read, 'Sorry I'm Booked For Tonight.' Suddenly she felt a little underdressed. She brushed a stray lock of her hair to the side in embarrassment.
This guy was hot with a capital 'H' and she could feel her cheeks heating up. That is until she spotted the cute kitten sitting on his head. Her hand flashed to her mouth to try and stifle a burgeoning laugh.
"Um," her eyes danced with barely suppressed giggles, "Nice hat!"
Oh geeze, she thought, what a stupid thing to say. And to such a good looking guy. Strike one, I'm out.
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achromatic
Member
She / Her
GMT / GMT+8
achromatic#7519
my life is just constantly existing at ungodly hours
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Jun 14, 2020 17:07:55 GMT
Post by achromatic on Jun 14, 2020 17:07:55 GMT
Hywel nodded, ready to say something when out of the corner of his eye, he saw a man reach for the wallet. He had immediately reacted, but it seemed like the other woman had gotten there first. Huh, he smirked. That was pretty impressive; there weren't a lot of people with faster reflexes than himself.
Next thing he knew, she was dusting off his pants with her own scarf. "Yeah, no need to worry about that," he chuckled, dusting his pants off before getting up as well. He almost felt a little bad for her; wherever she was going, it seemed like it was urgent, and that mutter about being late proved it. "Where are you headed?" he offered, "you're delivering these books?" He was just making wild guesses, but hey, he wasn't an asshole. If she was late for something because of him, he'd at least make it up to her.
Or you're just trying to befriend her in case the urge comes, a voice in the back of his head spoke. He shook it off. It wasn't time for a hunt...yet. If his body needed its high, he'd be able to feel it creep up his arms by now.
His focus went back to the woman, who was now giggling at him. He blinked at her, before realizing she was talking about the cat. Right. He chuckled, giving her a smile that was a touch embarrassed. "Yeah, someone decided that their job was to be a stowaway tonight," he grabbed the cat from his head, "this is Sylvan, he's my sister's cat who happens to be an asshole. Don't let the cute face fool ya."
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Jun 14, 2020 19:40:01 GMT
Post by stormaf on Jun 14, 2020 19:40:01 GMT
Hunter
"Mrs. Wittershall," Hunter explained. "She's agoraphobic. Never goes out, but she does like to read and have visitors."
She tore her eyes from the kitten and focussed on the gentleman in front of her.
"I bring her a new pile of books every second Friday and get the ones back that she's read."
Hunter gave him a lopsided smile. Oh my god, her inner voice reprimanded her, is that the best you can do?
"He's a cute kitten."
And so are you, her voice added. Shut up she told it. First of all, he's not a kitten.
"Storm and I used to have several cats at home," she continued, "Every morning I tripped over about ten dishes he'd put out in the evening for them. Brothers can be a pain sometimes. Personally, I think some of the racoons got into them too. They like cat food."
I'm babbling, she informed herself. Tentatively she put out a hand towards the kitten he held. Before touching it she looked up at him.
"Can I pet him?"
Not everyone liked strangers reaching out to pet their cat. Not every cat liked it either. She remembered the day Storm decided to pet one of the ones he fed. Fortunately Hunter was pretty good with the first aid box.
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achromatic
Member
She / Her
GMT / GMT+8
achromatic#7519
my life is just constantly existing at ungodly hours
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Post by achromatic on Jun 15, 2020 2:04:09 GMT
Oof, agoraphobia, huh? He hadn't met anyone with that kind of condition; then again Hywel wasn't much for meeting people outside of the usual–clubs, bars, drug dens, and victims of their little thieving scheme–and if someone never left their home, he'd certainly not be the kind to barge in.
"That's...really nice of you," he raised a brow at the other woman, "do you own a book store or something?"
A purr came from Sylan, and Hywel gave the cat a small smile, one usually only reserved for family. The other woman was right; he was a cute kitten. The devil in a coat of fur, yes, but...cute. He chuckled at the girl's story, before holding the cat towards the young woman.
"Sure, he's usually friendly, but you never know," he shrugged, giving Sylvan a look. The cat blinked innocently at Hywel, before turning towards the lady, giving her a meow once more.
"I'm Hywel by the way," he greeted, "sorry about making you late, but if your delivery is nearby, I'll make it up to you. I own a bar over there and you know, if you come around I'll get you a free drink sometime."
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Post by stormaf on Jun 15, 2020 2:24:48 GMT
Hunter
"I just opened up," she eyed the kitten lovingly, "The First Page. Just around the corner. My name is Hunter. Hunter Dumont."
She stuck her hand out to Hywel.
"Nice to meet you," she grinned, "Upright, that is."
Her inner voice cringed.
When offered the kitten, she took him carefully and cradled him in her arms. Hunter simply loved animals. Usually they responded in kind. She rubbed the little fellow's ears and under his chin.
"Mrs. Wittershall Lives just past that bar, in a walkup. She's been there forever. She'll have tea and scones," Hunter thought quickly, "Would you like to come? That is if you're not busy?
"Mrs. Wittershall will be thrilled. She has a caretaker come in every morning, but I'm the only other person that ever visits."
Hope, hope, hope.....
Shut up stupid little voice!
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achromatic
Member
She / Her
GMT / GMT+8
achromatic#7519
my life is just constantly existing at ungodly hours
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Post by achromatic on Jun 15, 2020 2:35:18 GMT
"Oh hey!" he took her hand, "guess we're sort of work neighbors then. I own The Gilded Hand so I'll be around here once in a while, as long as the other branches don't need my company." As the owner, he wasn't here too often, usually preferring to work at home where he had his own space. Brooklyn was a bit far too. He had mostly built this place here because his family used to live around these parts back a hundred or so years ago, but things had changed. He still loved the place, but it made more sense to live downtown these days.
He smiled at how easily she had persuaded Sylvan to curl up in her arms. The cat was a feisty one; he knew Rhiannon had trouble with the guy because they both had such strong personalities. They were the same, really. Good pretenders around strangers, showing their true personalities around the few they trust. Perhaps that was why they both got along with him.
"Mm," he was thoughtful. He did have a bit of paperwork to do, but then again, he could just pick it up and work from home the next day. It wasn't urgent, and they were n't expecting him until later, when the crowds were around.
"I guess so, but are you sure Mrs. Wittershall won't mind?" he blinked, "I don't want to intrude, that's all."
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Post by stormaf on Jun 15, 2020 3:01:25 GMT
Hunter
Oh joy, oh great day! Her inner voice rejoiced. If she could have given it a frown, she would have.
"Oh, no, she won't mind at all!" Hunter exclaimed, "She always bakes too many scones for me."
They were delicious and buttery. They went well with the tea in the little cups.
"Mrs. Wittershall will be so happy," she continued, "Sometimes she tells me stories of old New York."
Hunter frowned thoughtfully, "Although I think she might have a bit of dementia. She tells me about stuff she's way too young to have been around for."
With the kitten purring in her arms, she would have told Hywel stories too. The sound was so relaxing. Her old cat Mona had always purred her to sleep at night.
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achromatic
Member
She / Her
GMT / GMT+8
achromatic#7519
my life is just constantly existing at ungodly hours
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Post by achromatic on Jun 15, 2020 3:11:00 GMT
Old New York, huh? The man's lips twitched into a small smirk. Interesting. He didn't know many people who'd have lived in this area from back then; everything was torn down and rebuilt, and Brooklyn barely looked like itself anymore except for perhaps the brownstone houses. The rich always had their lives immortalized in this city; this was no different.
"That's interesting," he chuckled, "my parents tell me a lot about the city back when they were young too. Guess I'm a bit of a history nerd, but only for New York City really. They always told me what changed and what didn't; it'd be pretty cool to listen to these stories from a different perspective, you know?"
He didn't mind a few scones either, and well, he had time.
Or you're just looking for your next victim, the voice in the back of his head spoke. He pushed it away. It wasn't the time yet, anyway; he didn't think about it until his body felt the urge to strike again. The time thief was only part of who he was, rather than everything he was, after all.
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Post by stormaf on Jun 15, 2020 3:41:44 GMT
Hunter
Hunter led Hywel past the Gilded Lily and down five buildings to a brownstone that had seen better days. She pulled out a key and unlocked the solid wood door. It opened to reveal a steep set of stairs leading up to a landing in front of a door with an old fashioned bell pull hanging outside.
She pulled the cord.
The door was opened by a lovely grey haired lady in a chic pants suit.
"Hello, Mrs. Wittershall," Hunter said. She indicated the scarf full of books. "I've brought your new books. And I've brought a friend."
Here she indicated Hywel.
The sharp-eyed old vampire glanced at Hywel critically. Finally she stepped aside and invited the pair inside.
"Come in, come in," Mrs. Wittershall's voice was dignified and calm. "I have the tea and scones all ready."
Hunter placed the books carefully on an elegant Queen Anne style chair.
"Mrs. Wittershall, this is Mr. Hywel. I sort of ran into him on the street. He works at the Gilded Hand. I know how much you like to see people, so I asked him to come with me this evening."
"How wonderful," the vampire replied flatly, "Pleased to meet you."
She extended a pale hand gracefully towards Hywel.
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achromatic
Member
She / Her
GMT / GMT+8
achromatic#7519
my life is just constantly existing at ungodly hours
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Post by achromatic on Jun 15, 2020 3:58:35 GMT
(whispers it's Gilded Hand!)
They walked past his bar, glancing at the house. Right, the place was definitely due for a renovation soon. Still, the oak doors and the furniture almost reminded him of the old vintage shops they'd pawn things off in. It was definitely one of the older buildings, he thought as he followed Hunter in. It was a nice place–definitely old and vintage, but nice. He almost didn't notice the door opening, as an old lady stepped into view.
He blinked at the old lady, before giving her a polite dip of the head. "Nice to meet you ma'am," he offered. He always acted differently around older ladies, of course, but whoever this lady was, she didn't quite meet the feeble old lady that he had painted in his mind.
She also didn't seem pleased to see him, but hey, Hywel never took that to heart. Plenty of people didn't seem pleased to see him, especially when he was draining the life out of them and making himself immortal, but you can't always get what you want, he supposed.
Taking the lady's hand, he gave her a firm shake. "I've heard a lot of good things about you and how wonderful your stories are."
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Post by stormaf on Jun 15, 2020 4:30:33 GMT
(OOC: Oops, sorry!)
Hunter
It looked like things were going splendidly. The tea smelled like it was jasmine this evening and the scones' aroma was heavenly. Mrs. Wittershall led the pair to a lovely wooden Duncan Phyfe table, laden with scones, jam and butter. A lovely big Chinese antique teapot sat surrounded by dainty cups on saucers. The lady brought up another chair and gestured for all to sit.
"I do enjoy visitors and meeting new people," Mrs. Wittershall said as she poured out a hot cup of tea for each of them. "I have a hard time getting out nowadays and I'm afraid that I've lost a lot of my former joie de vivre."
She looked fondly at Hunter and at the kitten she carried.
"I'm fortunate that this lovely young lady owns a book store and does deliveries."
Hunter smiled and reddened.
"I'm really happy to have at least a couple of friends in New York now," she commented as she picked up a scone and proceeded to slather it with butter. "It gets lonely when you don't know anyone."
Mrs. Wittershall took a small sip of tea.
Eying Hywel she noted, "You really have to be careful meeting new people. You never know if they're going to do right by you."
As old as she was, Wittershall was knowlegeable about many of the supernatural goings on around her. She had her small group of followers and they brought her all the gossip she could take. She was a font of information, like a covert spy operation.
As innocent as a lamb, Hunter sat between two high-powered supernaturals calmly and happily drinking her tea and figuring that all was right in her world. New York wasn't as bad as she thought. Especially with a kitten purring on her lap.
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achromatic
Member
She / Her
GMT / GMT+8
achromatic#7519
my life is just constantly existing at ungodly hours
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Post by achromatic on Jun 15, 2020 5:08:03 GMT
The old lady certainly liked her antiques. The table was a familiar antique, one even Hywel recognized. They were popular tables back when he was a child, and suddenly he felt the nostalgia flow over him. There was no way it was a real one, right? They were expensive these days, but...looking at the old lady, it'd make sense if they were.
"Mm, I heard the bookstore is nearby, I suppose I'll have to check it out sometime," he offered almost a little distractedly. Even the teapot seemed antique, an authentic one really. It wasn't unusual, but he was surprised at how well-kept the antiques were. Re-sold ones often had to be modified due to disuse.
He looked up at her comment, his own eyes meeting the old lady's gaze without a flinch; he had a feeling she wasn't all who she claimed to be, with a tone like that. Hm. So she was suspicious of him; he wasn't surprised at that either. "Oh right, of course," he replied, a stillness in his voice that seemed almost pointed, "New York's quite dangerous, but I'm sure Hunter can take care of herself." He smiled lightly at the young woman. "She certainly took care of the man trying to steal her wallet earlier, reacted even faster than I did."
"So are you an antique lover, Mrs. Wittershall?" he offered, "I was just admiring your table. It reminds me of the sort my grandpa used to have."
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