Carmilla had planned on spending the night working or spending time with her girls, but it seems Clara and Odette had other plans. Meaning that they took the initiative to set her up on a blind date.

She couldn't even be mad at them. Carmilla knew they meant well and had begged her to at least go out and try to have a good time. She didn't have it in herself to say no.

So, here she was.

At least the restaurant was nice all things considered. Though she did felt just a bit self-conscious all dressed up while she waited for her date to show up (if they even would).

open starter | historical rp | open to all (mutuals and non-mutuals)

" they said i would find you here, " returning from his campaign. several moons have passed since he has seen the other. he has suffered the cold winter in a blizzard of snow, not like the heat of the roman sun. the roman men, unprepared for such a cold climate that some had died within the first few weeks. he looks different. hair is longer, curled. and face, stubbled.

he has seen droplets of blood, garnishing the ground and seeming even brighter as they lay against each snowflake that had settled upon the ground. he has butchered men. he has burned villages in his conquering of land. and yet, on his return, such celebrations of barbaric behavior had not been cheered on by the other. instead, they were nowhere to be found in the crowd of faces. hiding, it seems, in the palace, among the hall of faces where marble busts of great caesars before he, reside. " why are you hiding? "

| Open Starter - Spooky AU |

The door was shut behind him and Peter put all of his strength against it to keep it that way. Just in case. Because he'd seen enough in the last hour to know that the door, one way or another, had to stay closed. The single minded way those...god were they even people anymore? Probably not, there was no way, some of them looked like they shouldn't even be able to get up at all but there they were. Walking around. Stalking about. Filling some of the halls and rasping breaths and...

He held a hand up, straining to listen for just that beyond the doorway and waited. Something to fall, a muffled, rasping groan, for anything. It could have been seconds or it could have been minutes, Peter had no idea but he finally let out a breath and relaxed his stance. No sound, no danger warning from spider sense, that was the best it was going to get for now, "...I think we're okay." he said softly, not ready to actually move away from the door yet, "Any idea how to actually get out of here? Because I'm not exactly looking forward to the idea of facing night of the living dead out there."

OPEN

"No I'm not a reporter...I'm not with the police either. I just run a podcast, solve crimes the corrupt justice system can't." Pippa said with a small shrug.

"I just wanted to ask you a few questions. Don't worry. You're not on my suspect list...not yet anyways."

⌜ Open to: Anyone ⌟

In the dead of night, over the hush of a slumbering village, the crunching of dirt under one man’s feet fills the air. He is short of stature with peculiar hair and even more peculiar eyes. In his blue irises, the words “Lower Moon 1” are inscribed.

He is certainly not human.

"Finding someone aesthetically pleasing is not the same thing as liking them-"

Jaakko had found her upon the shores of Cauldron Lake. Another monster. No. No this was different. Wasn't it? Something deep inside him told him different. The cult was ready to dig into her. But Ilmo stops them.

Aubrey looks to them. Streams of light. Flashes of deer masks filled her vision. Muffled voices. Distant as they dragged her from the shore. Pale as a ghost. Her lips quivered. Words were broken into parts. "A-Alan.. Where.. You.." Streaks of the sun welcomed her.

The last thing she could remember was a warm blanket wrapping around her shoulders. To the others the watched for any changes but they never came.

2013

That was the year that was printed on the newspaper. Had it been three years?.. How is that possible it felt like.. Months. Not years.. That's how The Dark Place worked. It fucked with your mind. It swallowed you whole. It took the worse parts of you and boiled it to the top.

After years. She waited for Alan. She knows he still there. Stuck with Scratch. The feeling squeezed her heart tight. A pain she hasn't felt since the day she died. Aubrey wouldn't give up.. She'll never give up for him.

2023

Ten years.. It's been ten years. And nothing.. She hears the stories of the missing writer. Jaakko and Ilmo kept her in the loop of things that came out of the lake. The latest was Nightingale. She remembered him. The one that tried to chase Alan.. At the start of this. And now the FBI was in town.

A chill ran down her spine.. Her hand gripped the coffee pot. "Aubrey." Her name was distance. An echo. "Earth to Aubrey?" The second time she snaps out of it and looks to Rose with a smile. "Sorry.. I'll be right there.." It's happening again..

OPEN STARTER - CAPTAIN BARNES

"This is Earth 616? Shit." Heart sinking, the Captain stepped back as his grip tightened on his shield before turning to leave. This was bad. He knew of the theory of the multiverse, just never considered he would end up falling through it himself. A new universe filled to the brim with faces he recognized but not a single one who knew him. "Sorry to bother you."

" true story; did you know that all artists have horrible handwriting? "

| OPEN |

Lily chuckled and watched the other. "Sorry it's a motel, we don't have continental breakfast, but the muffins are good. I was here before the sun was up making them." She said matter of factly.

"They're made with love I promise."

It's rare to find Alastor asleep anywhere but his own room, or the radio tower -- but here he is, in the hotel lounge, fast asleep.

He's slumped over the rather small two-seater in front of the fireplace, with his left leg dangling clean over the side, its knee resting on the floor and aiding in keeping him from rolling off. The right leg is stretched out with nearly half of it jutting awkwardly over the couch's arm opposite his head due to him being too tall for it.

His right arm is folded beneath his head to act as a pillow, while the left arm is also dangling over the side, bent inward and palm down, his sharp fingers splayed out across the floorboards. Near that hand, somewhat scattered out, are a fountain pen and several papers -- hotel business, like bills and inventory and, most importantly, a ledger of who is currently staying there. He'd been updating it before seemingly drifting off and dropping it all.

The red-lensed, gold-rimmed glasses he wears are folded and lying on the nearby end table. The coat with tattered edges and vest that he usually wears are both neatly folded and draped over the couch's back, leaving him in just his black dress shirt, red bowtie, and pants. No shoes, either; those are positioned at the end of the couch his leg is dangling off of...which means his hooves are on full display. So is his tail, which offers a tiny twitch every once in a while as he keeps sleeping -- breathing deeply and still wearing a slight smile on his face.

Overall...he looks really peaceful.

The Kitsune let out a breath, stareing out the window.

".....Winter is almost here, isn't it?"

The words are mostly muttered to himself, but there's an edge to his voice.

( open: Asmodeus. )

" Pay attention to me, I'm bored. "

Open to: m/f/nb and anyone. Supernaturals welcome and encouraged Concept: There's been some tension between your muse and Agustín, but he is thick as a rock when it comes to getting hints. This has been going on for weeks now and it's starting to get a little frustrating, especially when Agustín invited your muse over because he had 'something juicy for them to feast on' and instead of a sexy night in the sheets, he's actually cooking dinner.

"... What do you mean?" he asked curiously, raising his gaze from the vegetables he was stir-frying.

He had even taken the initiative to clean his entire apartment, if anything not to come across as the hot mess that he actually was. Agustín remained oblivious about the other's attempts, since he was also rather oblivious about his own feelings too. All he knew was that spending time with the other was fun and calming, so it only made sense to invite them over... Right?

"My therapist says it's good that I get a 'healthy and constructive hobby'. That's why I picked up cooking... Or are you not hungry?"

with: open @aurorabaystarter.​​​​

where: anywhere, super open.

"Is that what they're wearing? Did I not get the funeral memo today?" She sighs, deep from within, as though the sight is causing her physical pain. Maura somewhat considered herself some kind of fashion connoisseur, and perhaps she needn't voice her concern, but her judgement simply couldn't be withheld.

open starter ft. maxine 'max' corbyn ( she/her ) based on plot in source ! open to m/f/nb

the smile she reserves for customers vanishes as she approaches the bar they've managed to stay hidden behind for the past hour. "so much for having my back out there, judas." only filled with half the usual venom: god knows she'd have run if she could, too. "you didn't tell me grabby greg was here tonight: i would've avoided lingering too long around the main stage."