this_fire_burns:

Matt Walker's office is in the upstairs portion of a two-story building near Chicago's South Side, which isn't in the best repair. Still, he calls this place his home away from home and the place where the work he does to finance his /real/ job is done.

He gets inside and takes off his duster, draping it over the back of the chair before sitting down heavily. Still no word on Austin Caine, still no leads, and Matt was reasonably sure that whatever those cultist had summoned was going to make its move soon. He considered calling Ian for advice, or Doctor Strange, but decided he wouldn't. He had to help put this together and then stop it.

He picked up the phone and called the rest of the team, asking them to come to his office.
 

nextgen_misc:

(This scene occurs shortly after this.)

"I'm goin' for the door on three. Once I get it open, you all need to get inside and get the welcome party ready for our guest of honor." said Brick, adjusting his Hell's Angels cut.  Brick, along with Nailz, Charlie Clips and young Half-Pint were sent by their boss, Ellis Clayton, to find Tommy Templeton. Or Austin Caine, as he liked to call himself these days. Somehow, the little bastard managed to kill two of their brothers, and they were going to make Caine and the Devil's Tribe MC pay for that mistake.

"One...two...three!" Brick whispers, then across the street to the door of the two-story condominium in Boston. He gets to the door and drops to a knee, his lockpicks already in hand. Less than ten seconds later, the front door of the condo clicks open and Brick steps inside.

Nailz, Clips, and Half-Pint make their run across the street under cover of night, taking care not to be seen by anyone on the street or in the surrounding condos.

Half-Pint is the last man to move and is a little sluggish because his ankle is still messed up from an accident earlier in the week. He hobbles as best he can, looking around because he's got a bad feeling about tonight.

He just doesn't know why.

nextgen_misc:

Fifteen hours after the Chicago PD responded to an incident at a warehouse on the pier, Detective Lynch is contacted by Seargeant Griswold, who ended up working overtime and was the first to respond when the call came in.

( Read more... )

nextgen_misc:

 

( Read if you dare )

nextgen_holiday:

There's a piece of paper and a pen attached to a bulletin board. Across the top is written:

New Year's Resolutions
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Anonymous entries accepted.

nextgen_holiday:

Christmas. Yule. Saturnalia. Dies Natalis Solis Invicti. Many cultures have celebrated and still celebrate a winter festival. There have been many names for it over the millennia. No matter the name it is a time to come together and celebrate with feasts and gifts with friends and loved ones.

Each culture has a legendary figure who would deliver gifts to children during this time. In Russia and some Slavic cultures he is known as Ded Moroz, Grandfather Frost, and comes not on Christmas but on New Year’s along with his granddaughter Snegurochka, or ‘”Snow Maiden”. In the United Kingdom and other parts of Europe he is known as Father Christmas. In the Netherlands and Belgium he is known as Saint Nicholas or “Sinterklaas” and in France he is known as Père Noël. In the United States we know him as Santa Claus.

No matter the name or who is delivering gifts, it is the season of peace, joy and togetherness. It is the season for thinking about loved ones, friends and those less fortunate. It is a time to witness the goodness and generosity the human race is capable of. It is a time for peace on Earth and goodwill toward man.

nextgen_baddie:

When you lived for centuries, patience and waiting came easy. He had waited and watched the Price boys for awhile before making his move. The Price boys were unique, even for werewolves, and the situation had to be handed delicately.

The Price boys were predictable and it made planning easier for Dracula.

The time to make the first move came when the boys had just returned to Gregory's apartment. Dracula let himself in and surprised the two. They shifted into werewolf form of course, but Dracula used his hypnotic powers on them. Within a few moments the Price boys were under Dracula's control.

Now it was time to use them against these foolish mortals who had dared to interrupt his plans.

"It is time to go," he told the two werewolves.

They both howled.

Dracula would lead them into the streets and to a popular night club. There he unleashed the two werewolves upon the club-goers.

Sirens blared in the night as police responded to the disturbance.

blackmagicwoman:

Shelly was curious by nature.  It had gotten her into a ton of trouble as a kid especially when she turned her curiosity on her little brother, Dante.  Jericho had sent them both to pocket dimensions for time out and that should have broken her of her curiousness, but it hadn't.  Instead it taught her to be more stealthy about it which was why when she unleashed the ritual to sniff out Matt's birthday she expected a nice quiet result that she could then take to do gleefully naughty things with.  What she got was far different.

"You have got to be kidding me."  The ritual results ended up telling her the birthdays of everyone she'd been in close proximity to (save for her patients, she had a ward for that.)  Greg, Michelle, and Matt were all Halloween babies.  She actually facepalmed.

"Okay.  Fine.  Three birthdays.  Three cakes.  Then we all go to Mac's."  She'd have to find a more appropriate costume for this since it was going to be more than just Matt, but she could do that.  She could pull it all off.

***

Three hours later, there were three cakes, an assortment of beers, and some light snacks (and some special things for Michelle if she needed them) spread out in the expansive dining area of Shelly's penthouse.  Simultaneously, magical invitations alerted the members of the team to a pre-party at Shelly's.  Now all she had to do was sit back and wait.

fullmoonfever:

Greg had thought about going back to LA for the holiday weekend to see his family, but a gig came up at the last moment and decided that playing music was much better than dealing with family. The gig was Sunday night and on Monday Greg found himself in his favorite club, putting back beers and listening to jazz music. It was his idea of a perfect holiday.

blackmagicwoman:

Portals, teleportation spells and ways are useful but when it comes to getting down to a suspicious club in the darker neighborhoods of Chicago, SUV was more efficient.  It would also trigger fewer magical sensors so if Vitae was tuned to such things, arriving by car would give them a few moments advantage over the shadowy figures suspected to be murderers for Dracula.

Shelly couldn't help but think of Charlie Manson as she turned the last corner and parked her SUV in the darkness down the street from the club.  A maniacal leader, brainwashed followers carrying out horrific deeds for master. 

"Okay.  Yeah.  This place gives me the creeps.  Let's go see if we can get in.  The website said it was a private club, right?  Most of those are pretty strict.  There's this place, The Mercury in Seattle...definitely not stranger friendly.  Grab your equipment folks."

Shelly herself took a deep breath and said a few quick prayers to the loa before getting out of the car and heading up to the door.  There was a guard there, pale and creepy looking as all of the rest of the cultists they'd encountered had been but instead of stopping them, the man smiled darkly and opened the door without a word.  In fact no words were exchanged at all, just that creepy smile.

Shelly's blood ran cold.  This...wasn't good.

fullmoonfever:

Greg felt guilty for walking out of that little impromptu meeting and leaving Michelle there by herself. He would have stayed, but him and black magic didn't mix and he was really glad that he had been given a heads up. It was bad enough that he had the werewolf curse, but it was worse with the demonic blood inside of his veins.

He knocked on the door of her apartment as he smashed a cigarette out under the heel of his shoe.

notquiteright:

In a darker area of Chicago, there's an apartment building that has seen better days. It's still livable but doesn't look nice at all. And it has one resident, the man that owns it. Gene Kalso, aka The Breaker. To the untrained eye the building is normal. But to those with the right abilities, the building has some pretty good mystic defenses. There are some security cameras cleverly hidden outside too.

He's in the lobby tonight, watching a TV and eating some pizza. The lobby is pretty nice and fixed up and the casually dressed Gene's got his feet propped up on the desk. A security camera overhead watches the door but Gene knows some of his contacts are coming and bringing him something interesting. Something about a body and a laptop. Gene wasn't paying attention to the phone call. But he's still waiting.

"Man, these Mythbusters losers are just jokes," Gene laughs as he takes a swig of the beer he's got with him.

nextgen_holiday:

Mothers are the place that we call home.
On them we rest our heads and close our eyes.
There's no one else who grants the same soft peace,
Happiness, contentment, sweet release,
Erasing nighttime tears with lullabies,
Restoring the bright sun that makes us bloom. - Anonymous

nextgen_misc:

( Cut for occult violence )

fullmoonfever:

Gregory Price slipped out of the Kingston Mines club and out into the mostly empty streets of Chicago. The night air was crisp as it tended to be during the early spring. The wind blew, which is Chicago was totally not a surprise, and Greg wrapped the trench coat he normally wore around him.

He bowed his head and started walking back toward his apartment.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he stopped walking. Something was not right. Greg looked around, but didn't see anything or anyone. He didn't like the feeling of this.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and started walking again.