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tampered2008-02-15 09:55 pm
voodoo-daddy.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2008-02-15 09:55 pm
Log: Complete
When; Feb. 15 (night)
Rating; R for ruthless rot
Characters; Saya![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
repairedbywebs, Papa Midnite voodoo_daddy
Summary; A weaver above the waters seeks the blood of an old voudun midnite.
Log;
He walked along the streets of a City he barely knew but knew it to be as old and as complex as the Bleed itself. Papa Midnite had grown tired of its novelty. There was little for him here that he couldn't get in New York City. Magic was in abundance (and used for the most inefficient reasons) and angels far more common than one could ever ask for. Further more, Gabriel here wasn't the snob from their homeworld, there were no chainsaws to speak of. No Constantine to speak of. That should have been a bloody blessing to Midnite, but the fact that the bad luck magician had touched ground here before left a sour taste in Midnite's mouth. It was as if the con man had dumped cold leftovers in his lap. That was a fucking insult to Papa Linton Midnite. He raised his chin, cigar lit to smoke away those thoughts. He wouldn't let Constantine get the best of him. After all, Papa had been tapping some of the finest magical property in the City. The werespider woman's vision had been his greatest discovery here. Anansi should be having a fit.
Rating; R for ruthless rot
Characters; Saya
repairedbywebs, Papa Midnite voodoo_daddySummary; A weaver above the waters seeks the blood of an old voudun midnite.
Log;
He walked along the streets of a City he barely knew but knew it to be as old and as complex as the Bleed itself. Papa Midnite had grown tired of its novelty. There was little for him here that he couldn't get in New York City. Magic was in abundance (and used for the most inefficient reasons) and angels far more common than one could ever ask for. Further more, Gabriel here wasn't the snob from their homeworld, there were no chainsaws to speak of. No Constantine to speak of. That should have been a bloody blessing to Midnite, but the fact that the bad luck magician had touched ground here before left a sour taste in Midnite's mouth. It was as if the con man had dumped cold leftovers in his lap. That was a fucking insult to Papa Linton Midnite. He raised his chin, cigar lit to smoke away those thoughts. He wouldn't let Constantine get the best of him. After all, Papa had been tapping some of the finest magical property in the City. The werespider woman's vision had been his greatest discovery here. Anansi should be having a fit.