| The Collector |
[05 Apr 2009|09:05pm] |
Horace Berg was a collector of the strange.
His parents were German immigrant farmers that settled in Oklahoma in 1928, just in time for the Dirty Thirties, when the American prairie lands became the dust bowl. Years later, after the weather relented, the back-breaking labor didn't. Horace remembered the square patch of land his family called home, how it yielded more dirt than food. He remembered meager crops, the grime in every nook and cranny of the tiny wooden house. Dirt that got into one's pores and turned the washbasin muddy brown.
One of his strongest memories of childhood was of a traveling carnival that came to town. Their poverty was staggering, but his father produced enough loose change to take his son and wife to see the ferris wheel, the games of chance, and the freak show tents, where the curious could catch glimpses of bearded ladies, conjoined twins, the world's skinniest man, and any other oddity that could be sold to a fanciful public. Perhaps a childhood deprived of anything aside from plows, hoes, and Bible passages was to blame. Perhaps it was the peculiar quality of his personality. One way or another, little Horace's normal detachment gave way to his imagination, which hitched onto the carnival and never let go, even when the trucks rolled out of town.
( Oddities )
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| #341 |
[05 Apr 2009|06:11am] |
Elizabeth was a fortune teller.
She pretended that the answers came from Tarot, but she didn't need a deck of cards to tell a person's past or future. It came to her in mental pictures, blurry at first and then slowly coming into focus, like Polaroids. When people said they were assaulted with memories of terrible things, those were usually functions of the regular mind, just recorded images of what they wanted to forget. But Elizabeth saw things she hadn't witnessed first-hand.
Because of that, she was a withdrawn woman with no designs on friendships or romantic partnerships. After twenty-three years of seeing beyond the limits of place or time imposed on normal people, she was tired of bothering with trust and hiding what she knew, of having the intimate details of their lives to come, or even their ugly pasts. When her mother got a cancer, Elizabeth knew it long before a doctor detected a lump in her breast. She saw it over coffee and eggs. When her cousin was killed overseas in a boating accident, she was struck by the knowledge while she bleached her whites at the laundry mat. In the water sloshing around her clothes, she saw his bloated face floating in the ocean before the family knew he was missing. The final straw was more ordinary. A boyfriend cheated with the blonde who served pizza and beer at his favorite pub. Elizabeth saw his hips working between the girl's legs before he came home smelling of unfamiliar perfume.
It never seemed like her gift let her predict mundane things.
( What He Always Wanted )
[The Collector was written by Kate]
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| The Collector |
[31 Mar 2009|11:18pm] |
Yo, yo, yo...
Those folks that've chatted w/ me about the upcoming small-group plotty goodness, I plan to get this party started by Monday w/ some NPC action. See me for details.
Whoo-ha!
Kate
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| The Walls Came Down |
[31 Mar 2009|10:36pm] |
For weeks, the neighborhoods along the outside edge of Lincoln Park were bombarded with noise and activity. There were sounds of construction and demolition, crashes and beeps and the roar of machinery. Traffic increased on their long-quiet streets as the curious crept slowly by with their car windows rolled down. Ambitious reporters rapped on front doors, eager to get the opinions of those residents that had been brave enough to stay in their homes, so close to the site of the old tragedy. Caravans of military vehicles were packed up and driven away, leaving only a small base of operations behind, alongside the research hospital.
The massive wall that had been erected around the community area came down in chunks, until only a small remnant was left behind on Diversey Street, where a park had been set up in memory of the dead and missing.
At long last, recovery had come to Lincoln Park. A brief memorial services was held, and then the city mayor cut a symbolic red ribbon. An 'open house' and auction took place in the mid-day sun, in order to start reselling the residential and commercial property. The air still smelled of drying paint.
When nightfall came, the street lamps came on for the first time in nearly two years, and a special policing force patrolled the area by car, bike, and on foot, hoping to protect from looting, squatting, and vandalism. Quite how well that would work remained to be seen. And in the darkest corners of basements, tiny movements of a few, old tenants went undetected.
For better or for worse, Lincoln Park was reborn.
[Submitted by Kate]
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| Why, Hello There |
[25 Mar 2009|07:45pm] |
[Takes place at the end of the Personality Trait plot]
Glitz and glamor? Well, Los Angeles had more. But when Star got the itch to escape the tyranny of Victoria's hotel suite, it wasn't hard to find a great place to drink to her heart's content. If she drank enough, she could still get drunk. Muted taste aside, there was one great thing about drinking as a vampire. Alcohol poisoning wasn't possible.
The first bar had a small dance floor. Star collected a couple of suitors, men in their lower twenties who were willing to form a body shield around her. She drank and danced, shouted to be heard, laughed explosively, and shrugged when a manager suggested she leave. The duo of broken glasses underfoot had something to do with it. Unwilling to take a chance some amateur photographer would catch the struggling actress arguing back, she stuck some cash in the tip jar and left, shedding her men at the door like a heavy coat.
The next place was a less ostentatious, standard issue bar. There was some kind of Irish theme. Thank the gods it didn't extend to the music, which included a collection of rusty-voiced, rock and roll icons. Bruce Springsteen. Another dude with tight jeans and a guitar, Brian Something-or-Other. Over a vodka on the rocks, Star pulled the pins out of her hair. While her fingers worked to twist it again, the pins stuck out of her mouth like metal toothpicks.
Although he was tentatively becoming more acquainted with drinking, Connor had already discovered that he disliked the club scene to the point that he could only tolerate small doses of loud music and strobe lights. He had one foot propped on the bottom rung of the stool to his left, listening to Brian Setzer's gravelly voice as it poured from the jukebox. Jump, jive, and wail, indeed. The Destroyer picked up his chilled glass of vodka and took a hit of it, feeling the condensation against the calluses on his palm before setting it back down. He perused the bottles behind the bar, blue gaze reading over the labels. Killing time.
( Smelling Star )
( Chicago Blues? )
[Star was written by Kate]
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| Vampires and the Women Who Sire Them |
[18 Mar 2009|11:39pm] |
After her disconcertingly abusive telephone message to Deanna having amounted to naught, Victoria Foxworth's next course of action centered on the somewhat absent light of her unlife; one Estella 'Star' Tomlin. Oh, how she regretted doing the flirty thing with that girl in the library... She should have just taken, damn it!
And taking was precisely what she had resorted to, over recent nights. No longer was she prepared to settle for anything less than absolute control, but by the same token, her mind was drifting back to the one person she had successfully turned. Why accept less, when there was already someone out there who she could correct? Rehabilitate. Recrafted.
"This is Victoria. There's a plane ticket to Chicago, booked and paid for, in your name. You're getting on it, ASAP. There'll be a car waiting to take you to my hotel."
With the message sent, the recently-famed actor's fanged maker was determined to make at least one person follow her lead. If she could not make her own childe do so, then what chance did she stand with an ordinary human being?
( Star Was Many Things, But... )
( Kiss My Feet! Or Else! )
[Star was written by Kate]
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| How Does Your Garden Grow? |
[18 Mar 2009|08:26pm] |
I’m watching you.
You don’t even notice, but I am.
( Lily White )
Submitted by Dew
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| Statement |
[18 Mar 2009|07:15pm] |
The fact that Ernest had to wait for the detective on the Stake Killer case wasn't what bothered him. No, it was the fact that he'd made the mistake of setting up lunch with his sister that afternoon. He hadn't seen Clarissa in almost three weeks, thanks to her busy schedule as a nurse at St. Joseph's. She'd been working the night shift for over a month now, and what time she didn't spend sleeping during the day, Clarissa was spending with her 8-year-old son Dylan.
Dylan was a good kid; Ernest had really been looking forward to seeing him.
Fortunately, Clarissa understood; hell, she told Ernest that if he had information that could release an innocent woman from jail, he better march right into the precinct and tell the officers. Lunch with his older sister could wait; a woman's life was at stake. That was the one thing Ernest loved about his sister above all others -- she was always looking out for everyone else before even considering herself. That was made her a great nurse, a great mother and quite honestly, one of the finest people he'd ever met. She even pushed him to go to grad school, when he thought it would be better for him to spend a year or two clerking at the local Wolfram & Hart branch.
He saw it as a tremendous opportunity; Clarissa said he was better than gopher for corporate law. So far, his sister was right.
( Fuzzy With Time )
[NPC Ernest was written by Jeff; NPC Meg was written by Dew.]
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| Took Long Enough |
[15 Mar 2009|02:46am] |
( Remembering )
[Submitted by Jeff.]
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| Opening 'Chernobyl Park' |
[11 Mar 2009|07:15pm] |
( News article: )
[Written by E.]
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| Chicago Sun-Times Advertisement |
[11 Mar 2009|12:02pm] |
Homes and Commercial Properties for Sale!
New and Remodeled!
Lincoln Park Properties would be honored to be your real estate agency. Our commitment to outstanding service and quality makes our name synonymous with luxury! We go beyond exceptional value to create a lifestyle of beauty, comfort, and most of all, affordability! We invite you to explore Chicago's newest, premier address... Lincoln Park!
First-time home or business owner? Experienced investor? Curious about financing options? Come to our Open House on April 1st at the intersection of Halstead and N. Clybourn Avenue between noon and 6pm to find out more. Lenders on site.
Choose from shoreline views, tree-lined residential streets near the park, brown- and graystone walkups and other 19th-century styles. A variety of new and refurbished properties are available to buyers! Don't miss it!
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| Personality Inversion |
[06 Mar 2009|07:33pm] |
The portal was not confined to mere places, any more than it was to times. Every so often, either by design or chance, the gateway decided to pull in or expel a certain energy or even mathematical value. Sometimes, these could take on the form of rules, and at others... strange effects on its victims.
It would be temporary, but this day brought with it an invisible, unseen, unheard, inter-dimensional shifting. There would be no armies of light or darkness. Instead, there would be just the slightest of changes to the personalities of those creatures most susceptible to the manipulative influence, whether by nature, location, or current mindset.
For those who fell under its spell, urges would begin to realign and the magnetic poles of personality start to flip. New mindsets would be present... Some good, some bad, some neutral. Others? Well, others would just be different.
Those whom the gods wish to destroy, after all, they first make mad...
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| Chicago Underground- Demon Pants |
[04 Mar 2009|11:44pm] |
Dear Forum Folk:
There's a topic I've been ruminating on for a while. Since the Big Reveal in 2012, evvverybody's got an opinion of whether or not demons should be included in our laws (as citizens). Most people care because of legal convictions, taxes, marital rights ("MARRIAGE=LOVE"), voting, and stuff like that. But here's why I'm all for inclusion:
INDECENT EXPOSURE LAWS!
I mean, really! When are demons gonna be required to wear PANTS?!
Yesterday afternoon, I was on my way to work, when this big honkin' demon w/ slimy deer antlers rounded the corner in his birthday suit. His testicles were swaying like two tennis balls in a gym sock. Where does the system stand on such nudity?
Signed,
Pixie Strumpet
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| 187 |
[04 Mar 2009|05:19pm] |
Bonnie Lindstrom hadn’t been seen in a few weeks. On permanent disability with no family to speak of in the area, it had taken a while for anyone to notice she was gone. Only when a large water stain had appeared in her downstairs neighbor’s apartment ceiling and he had been unable to find her to bitch about it did anyone bother to alert the police to her disappearance. It had been a slow night when the call came in, and Mickey had been running late, so Detective Meghann McCauley took the call on her own and headed out to the Section 8 housing development where Ms. Lindstrom lived.
It had been a tumultuous week for Meg. Hailed as a hero in the papers and even in her own precinct, it seemed that the arrest of suspected serial killer Faith Lehane had left some sort of taint on her mind. Meg couldn’t stop thinking about it, running over what little evidence they had in her mind, and wondering if she had done the right thing.
She’d had daydreams where she let the woman run, or helped her escape. Coupled with recurring nightmares of chasing dark and dangerous things throughout the night, it was shaping up to be a pretty rotten week. And speaking of rotten…
( 187 )
Submitted by Dew
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| Etiquette |
[04 Mar 2009|04:15pm] |
Elise was in fairly good spirits as she ventured on foot to retrieve her own cup of coffee for a change. Normally she would have whatever idiot was passing her open office door do it for her, but the wickedly cheerful mood the previous night’s meeting with the incarcerated Slayer at the Cook County lock-up had her acting strangely benevolent towards the underlings at the Chicago branch of Wolfram & Hart.
To a degree, anyway. She had slammed that twit of a copy clerk’s hand in a file cabinet with strength enough to sever a digit or two that morning. But really, the man had been asking for it for ages.
“Oh! Ms. Shelby!” one of the fourth-floor secretaries had sputtered when Elise pushed open the door to the small kitchenette.
Elise gave the frightened woman an indulgent smile. “I’m just getting some coffee, Lauren. Let’s not have you pissing yourself over it, hmm? I do believe the cleaning staff in this building is somewhat overworked as it is.” That much was true. She had passed a janitor in the hallway prying the remnants of an arm out of an industrial paper shredder not five minutes before.
( Respecting the Law )
[NPC Maureen Sanders was written by Jeff.]
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| Police Nab Stake Killer Suspect |
[02 Mar 2009|12:47am] |
By Samuel Tisdale | stisdale@suntimes.com
CHICAGO -- Area police made an arrest Friday night in the case of the stake serial killer, apprehending a 33-year-old woman authorities claimed was a suspect based on past transgressions.
Officer Meghann McCauley arrested Faith Lehane after dispatch received a 9-1-1 call shortly after midnight reporting a dead body in an alley between Washington and Randolph, pinned to the wall by a stake through his heart. Police at the scene found Lehane standing near the body, and a search found a stake and dagger on her person.
Police spokesperson Genevieve Barbosa would not offer comment, but officers on the scene likened the scene to that of fallen police commissioner Jasper Frank Iaconi. The body in the alley, the identity of whom police are withholding until the notification of next of kin, is the fourth body to be killed in such a way since November.
( Please see STAKE, A6 )
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| Pornographic Non-Adaptation |
[26 Feb 2009|09:35am] |
( Sex! )
[Written by E, because I was bored!]
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