#seattle occult

[edgeofthecirclebooks]

[serafinelea]

A little behind for pie day but still inside of March so I think it counts, and who doesn't love pizza and pie all year long anyway? Available repeatable designs

🍕Seattle area / Friday- Monday

🥧 Dm or Email / By appointment

🍕 $90an hour

🥧Repetable

[yukoishii]

book of the sun (akashic records) mixed media assemblage Available only on artful home: https://www.artfulhome.com/navigate?searchTerm=yuko

[khornedog]

Tumblr is where you're supposed to be weird on purpose, so I'm sharing this short film I helped a bunch of my friends make. It's a holiday special and it's a comedy!

Come for the adult theater nerds, stay for the esoteric wisdom and sight gags!

[cryptotheism]

does the pacific northwest have a particular brand of psychic would you say or is it just when the california ones move north?

I've spent quite a bit of time in the PNW recently and the occult shit here is so weak. Seattle lacks the cloying smog of abitious desperation that allows LA psychics to thrive. You can't sell talismans here, you need a podcast. Oregon has similar energy but all of them either left or became active white supremacist militiamen.

[sunflowervoltwentyeight]

Happy 28th! Here is my September 2024 fic rec, organized by word count, from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!

Godless, Graceless, and Young by kiddle / @bluejeanlouis (110k)

Seattle, Washington, 1991

It takes a special breed to have a slacker persona and still be a millionaire rockstar. Harry is about halfway there. He's the guitarist in a Seattle grunge band that could finally be headed somewhere, but he's also been sleeping on his bassist's sofa for the last three months and has been fired from every day-job he's had. Money doesn't equal success, but it does pay the bills.

When a job offer and a new lead singer stumble into Harry's life, he might be getting a lot more than he bargained for. Like a couple of extra gigs and a boy who can teach him more than just how to mix a few drinks, and it's gonna take a few band brawls and a whole lot of heart-searching to get there.

He's gotta have one somewhere...

Coax the Cold by mediawhore / @mediawhorefics (86k)

England, 1897.  

English Professor Louis Tomlinson’s passion for the occult has been a source of mockery and derision for most of his life. When he hears whispers of a travelling freak show newly established in London claiming the existence of a monstrous sea hybrid, half-man, half-fish, Louis sees it as his ticket to credibility amongst his peers. The summer he spends undercover working on the show, however, gives him much more than that.

Late Nights and Good Intentions by princelouisau / @princelouisau (71k)

“About last night,” Harry says suddenly, as if he’d been debating on whether to say anything. Louis whips back around to look at him.

“Do not finish that thought,” Louis says just as abruptly.

Harry looks at him oddly, as if assessing him. With a small frown, it seems the assessment is over. “I only wish to say that you do not have to dwell on it. The rest of the men will surely forget by tonight.”

“And you?” Louis asks, raising an eyebrow. “Will you forget?”

“I will remember every second of it fondly,” the Lord says, no trace of a tease in his words. or, a Victorian era au where Louis pines for his overprotective older brother’s very charming best friend.

For You, I Would Ruin Myself by wildestdreams / @thelavendrhaze (54k) WIP

It was the perfect last day of summer. They built sandcastles, wrote their names in the sand, and caught crabs, which they eventually let go when one of them pinched Louis and he was near tears. Afterward, they swam in the ocean, splashing each other playfully before moving toward one another in sync, lips pressing together in sweet kisses. When their skin turned prune-like, they returned to shore, laying out on their towels beneath the bright sun, snacking on fruit and chocolate while talking about everything and nothing.

At some point, Harry had shared, “I think this has been my favorite summer yet.”

“Why’s that?” Louis asked, a smile peeking out as though he already knew. He looked so pretty and cool with his sun-kissed skin and black Ray-Bans covering his eyes.

Harry rolled over on his towel until he was half-pressed against Louis and placed his palms on top of Louis’ chest, tucking his chin over them. “Because I had you.”

or

Harry’s unrequited crush on Louis turns into a whirlwind summer romance, only to leave him heartbroken in the end. Years later, a return to his hometown forces Harry to confront his past and the one person he was running from.

Tarnished but so Grand by tilthesundies / @tllthesundies (32k)

Louis hides in places. Harry always finds him.

I'll Be Your Love Tonight by dinosaursmate (20k)

“I don’t know how I’m ever going to walk away from you.” “So don’t.” Harry ran a fingertip over Louis’ thigh. “Stay with me.” - It's the summer of 1999 and Louis Tomlinson has been abandoned at a house party. A dispute over Smirnoff Ice and several night buses later, Louis is unsure how he'll ever walk away from this lovely, curly-haired boy.

Green in the Morning and Blue Afternoon by wildestdreams / @thelavendrhaze (14k)

“Harry,” Louis whispered beside him.

Harry hummed, his hand coming up to stroke Louis’ back. Louis was still on top of him, his body sagging against Harry’s, heavy and warm, and Harry loved it.

“I don’t think it was a one off.”

“Me either, Lou.”

or a Friends AU.

A Few of My Favourite Things by sweariwouldnt / @sweariwouldnt (8k)

Harry and Louis do cat sitting.

[illadjusteds]

ᵎᵎ     (   dominic  sessa.  twenty2.  cis  man.  he/him.   )  thank  god  you’re  here,  man  -  have  you  seen  RORY  LANDRITH  anywhere?  i  totally  lost  them  after  their  rendition  of  starman  by  david  bowie  last  night.  no?  they’re  like,  aye  -  high  and  go  to  LANGSTON  -  i  think  they’re  a  sophomore  studying  ETHICS  &  OCCULT  STUDIES?  but  who  knows,  these  days.  all  i  know  is  that  they’re  CREDULOUS,  FANCIFUL  and  a  AQUARIUS.  last  night  they  kept  going  on  and  on  about  how  they  won  LEAST  LIKELY  TO  SURVIVE  A  LORD  OF  THE  FLIES  SITUATION  last  year,  which  is  cool  and  whatever,  but  i  just  wouldn’t  expect  it  out  of  them,  considering  they’re  so,  like,  TETCHY  &  STEADFAST,  you  know?  anyways  -  i’m  going  to  check  down  by  the  solarium,  i  think  that’s  where  they  like  to  hang.  text  me  if  you  see  them,  okay?  bye! 

─── ⟡ : pinterest.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 : the basics.

full   name.   gregory arnold landrith   nickname(s).   please just call him rory or he'll have a menty b   age.   twenty2   birthdate.   february 11th   hometown.   seattle, washington, usa   gender.   cis man   pronouns.   he/him   orientation.   who knows idk   ethnicity.   english, scottish   nationality.   american

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐖𝐎 : the specs.

faceclaim.   dominic sessa   height.   6ft 3in   hair   color.   chestnut brown   eye   color.   brown   scar(s).   a small vertical slice underneath his right eye received after falling off the monkey bars and onto a pebble as a child   piercing(s).   none   tattoo(s).   a small outline of bart simpson's head at the base of his spine, veering towards the right   other   distinct   feature(s).   bruises like a damn peach so there's always something thre, hair constantly tousled with uneven curls as his hands are always in it whether he means to do that or not   style.   normcore at his finest, crunchy almond child adjacent at his best, everything is always either too big or too small

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 : quick facts.

the  youngest  of  four,  rory  grew  up  just  outside  of  seattle,  washington  in  a  very  busy  home.  each  sibling,  to  which  he  felt  slightly  detached  from  due  to  being  five  years  apart  from  the  closest  sibling  in  age

not  to  mention  all  of  them  have  british  accents  compared  to  his  bastardized  mix  of  accents  due  to  his  parents  relocating  to  the  usa  just  before  his  birth,  as  his  dad  received  a  job  offer  from  a  renewable  energy  company  way  across  the  pond.  his  mother  was  stay  at  home  for  a  while,  but  went  back  to  teaching  literature  at  a  private  university  during  his  childhood

a  lot  of  his  upbringing  felt  very  performative,  like  he  had  to  force  himself  to  stand  out  to  get  attention  from  the  rest  of  his  siblings,  resulting  in  his  very  frazzled  personality  that  he  keeps  to  this  day

attending  langston  was  a  bold  choice  for  a  boy  who  didn't  even  desire  to  go  to  college  until  the  very  last  minute,  but  he  decided  that  newer  pastures  across  the  country  would  be  good  for  him

lived  in  student  housing  because  he's  always  too  early  or  too  late  for  things  so  he  decided  that  would  be  the  best  route

was  notoriously  always  sick  w/  a  nasty  respiratory  thing  during  his  first  year  -  ended  up  developing  asthma,  and  after  moldgate,  he  thinks  he  knows  why.......

very  excited  about  this  study  abroad  program,  since  he  thinks  he  can  ~  connect  to  his  roots  ~  or  whatever  that  means

went  into  ethics  because  he  said  i  have  those! and  thought  it  would  just  be  a  major  about  his  own  opinions  and,  in  turn,  an  easy  a

occult  studies  was  more  of  an  interest  because  of  both  the  united  states'  and  the  united  kingdom's  respective  witch  hunt  eras,  something  he  fixated  on  for  a  while

just  kind  of  lost  in  life  and  vibing  through  it  -  the  impending  doom  of  having  to  get  a  job  and  make  a  life  for  himself  hasn't  fully  hit  yet

is  very  easily  offended  and  defensive  about  everything  so  someone's  gotta  mess  w/  him  just  for  fun

would  jump  out  of  a  building  to  impress  people  probably  (that's  how  he  got  the  bart  simpson  tattoo,  bc  someone  asked  him  to)

was just hired for a part - time position at lamb and flag bc he is so broke and will start working nights <3

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 : wanted connections.

unlikely friendship — someone who has their shit together who is pretty much the reason why rory is still alive and hasn't broken all his bones yet lbr. probably way too cool to be in his company but they both get along at a very fundamental level so of course they work.

i admire you — this person is hyper-idealized by rory for some reason or another that we can plot out, and he would probably do anything that they asked which gets him in a lot of precarious situations perhaps ....

tinfoil hats — a group of lil weirdos who are into the paranormal or supernatural or conspiracy theories or anything that falls under that realm pls just blabber at him and let him blabber i think it would be better for everyone's wellbeing.

[worlds-worst-anecdotalist]

The Masque of Carcosa

Dated June 3rd 1903 

 “Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.” -Freidrich Neitzsche 1886 

Abstract: 

A story about demonic, potentially eldritch, possession and spatial manipulation as recounted by Dr. Samuel J. Innsmouth, Orca Island Asylum, Collected by Prof. Johann D. Van Alden, Dept. of Occult Sciences, Miskatonic University, for further academic study regarding; spatial manipulation, parasitic possession, and extra dimensional entities.

Testimony of Dr. Samuel J Innsmouth: 

As a young man I was always fascinated by masks, especially the horrific and grotesque masks of the theaters of antiquity. Now there is no particular cause for what I saw in them. Perhaps it was the archetypes of the human psyche laid bare and unformed yet still hiding the truth beneath a mockery, an illusion displayed for the sake of the story's convenience. But that was my youth. As I grew older I learned more about the world. I studied in the manner of my family to be a psychologist to learn the inner workings and structures of the human mind. 

After taking what I thought would be a beneficial position, I soon  found myself trapped in a remote asylum on Orca Island in the San Juan channel in the Pacific Northwest. I was working as a resident, studying and learning the trade, when a curious case crossed my desk. That being the case of Mr. Leopold Penn, an actor from Seattle who was displaying all the common signs of what was a sudden albeit particularly violent personality split, despite never having any prior recorded mental or physical ailments of any particular note, beyond a mild fear of spiders. 

Upon the completion of my transit from Orca Island to Seattle I was soon greeted and ushered to the city's hospital where for the time being they were keeping Mr. Penn in the psychiatric ward, I met Mr. Penn as he was sitting in his cell patiently reading Edgar Allen Poe’s Cask of Amontillado which in hindsight was quite an ironic pick considering what I was about to learn. As I began the interview and evaluation I quickly was informed by Mr. Penn that he was in fact a Mr. Shepherd Carcosa or at least so he claimed. He spoke with a strange almost snake like accent and he wore thick yellow robes stained with refuse and other offal and a Il Capitano mask, its crows beak nose drawn out long and hooked over a matted mustache. His mask was stained, yellowed, weathered, and withered with age and it hid his face or at least most of it. I was informed by one of my colleagues that whenever they tried to remove his costume the patient would go into a violent psychotic rage. 

As we conversed Mr. Penn speaking as his alter ego Carcosa revealed things that he should not have known, things that were… distressing.  But more so than that his eyes disturbed me to an even greater degree as he stared like a corpse, not at me but past me unblinking and unflinching. 

After hours of conversation, with him dodging my questions like a well trained ballerina doing pirouettes, he slumped over. When he arose again he asked where he was. He asked who I was. I answered these questions and I asked him who he was as I had similarly before. He replied that he was Leopold Penn or Leo to his friends. When I asked him to remove his mask the patient seemed… hesitant? Slowly, obligingly,  he tried to tug the mask off to which he failed causing the patient to panic and attempt to rip the mask off with great frenzy. In the dark pits of the mask's eyes I saw his terror.  He asked… no, begged for me to assist him before he slumped over again and passed out. 

Over the coming weeks he came into and out of consciousness innumerable times, frequently as Carcosa, increasingly rarely as himself. But the worst was yet to come for during a fit of unconsciousness we had him x-rayed to see what had come over him physiologically and what we saw scarred many in the room that day… myself included. The mask had grown, mutated, hell fused to his face. His bones became the masks and vice versa. Like a horrific parasite the weathered leather of the mask had become his skin and yet the eyes did not emerge; they remained sunken and obscured.

 Then the nightmares that plagued my team and I began. I dreamt of roiling seas of reeking yellow bile, that flowed seamlessly to a pus colored sky with black stars of gleaming obsidian. I alternately dreamed of crumbling cities scorched in flame, of things indescribable in their wickedness, and of strange sigils and signs etched in the dark and in the flames. In quiet moments when all the world should have been still I swore I heard something nowhere and everywhere within us and without us. laughing a sickly and wretched laugh as if it was mocking me, mocking us.  

Over the week following our examination of the mask on Penn/Carcosa, my colleagues began to degenerate and eccentricate acquiring bizarre habits and perversions. Eventually I was the only one left on the case, the only one stable enough to continue on.  And so, despite my own dreamlike horrors and trepidations  I entered Mr. Penn's padded cell, ostensibly to resume my investigation. 

To my horror,  when I entered I wasn't met with a hospital cell but rather I saw a grand and impossible city embraced to the east, west and south by the roiling sea of wretched reeking ochre bile from my dreams. It crashed against stained sizzling rocks, flowing into a fetid pus yellow sky adorned with black stars of obsidian just as in my nightmares. Everything was smothered with a steaming sulfurous humidity. The name of this abhorrent city rang in my mind like a foul requiem bell: “Carcosa… CARCOSA… CARCOSA… C A R C O S A!” 

I knew from my bones that this abysmal city had at one point appeared to be a beautiful metropolis without equal or rival in all the world. Through all the ages it was now sundered and crumbled to ash. And yet through glimpses, more like flashes really, I saw it for what it once had been in days of bygone glory and it was as beautiful as it was terrible. Its architecture was Vedic or something older. It reminded me of India but far older from either a time before the time of the brahmins' history or from a time they refuse to speak of.

The city was warped, crooked and bent in ways that it shouldn't have been, that it couldn't have been. Its citizens dressed in the fineries and excess of carnivals grander than Venice or anywhere of this world. All of them were wearing… masks… abhorrent wretched but beautiful masks. They appeared to be enslaved by their masks. They jerked to and fro stiffly, like demented marionettes flailing and contorting with agonizing efficiency. They didn't seem to speak and they didn't seem to breathe. 

At this point I decided to retreat to sanity and plan a new course of action. But to my horror, like a marionette, I felt my limbs move me forward from my entrance deeper and deeper into the city passing impossible architecture and bizarre puppets. After an eon of this madness I saw the palace wrought wholly from a single piece of alabaster. Throngs of pilgrims flocked to its gates and I flocked with them. Yet, as I approached the palace steps, flashes of rebellion and of treason most foul flickered across my mind. These were not pilgrims. These were revolutionaries. They parted before me…  parted like Moses parted the Red Sea. 

Against my will, I was carried up those steps and led by my own legs into a gaping pillared hall. Courtiers were locked in an endless waltz yet no noise came from them, not even the steps of their feet. Despite the glory of their robes I saw their chains. They were not here willingly but they were held here by iron will. Lo and there the throne rose above the masquerade, its occupant seated upon it exuded a regal air. As I approached I saw him for what he was, a necrotic and withered corpse bound to the throne. His body was augmented with unknowable clockwork. His eyes sunken and forgotten eons ago. His chains were rusted and yellow. Vile ichor foamed from the corners of his mouth past yellowed teeth, contorted in an endless scream. And yet I recognized something about this abhorrent cadaver, this Necrotic corpse. This wretched thing was Leopold Penn or what remained of him. 

Then HE arrived to great and grand fanfare; the braggart prince, wearing the same stained Capitano mask and the same faded yellow robes Mr. Penn was last seen in. HE strode forth with great swagger and bowed deeply yet mockingly before me. With a voice that sounded like a choir of suffering he spoke: “My most humble and deep seated apologies for being unable to present this domain to you Dr. Innsmouth.  I had the most pressing and urgent business. I see you've found our mutual friend? Don't worry he isn’t dead.” He chortled this last line with the sickening grace and bravado of someone who operated every fiber of their being manually and consciously. I realized this world, this place whatever it was, danced at his whim. He was the puppet master and this was his stage.

 I demanded he remove his mask and reveal himself. He, however, refused, for he wasn't wearing a mask at all. The horror of this realization caused me to scream. My spirit imploded under the might of that king of rotten amber, the lord of yellow, the eldest of the four, the chamberlain of the hanged king of thorns. As visions of terror, death, and woe seared themselves into my mind I saw a veiled king with a crown of stars, abhorrent temples dedicated to forgotten gods, a great web plied by its arachnian master. I saw many more things but then I awoke on the floor of Leopold's cell but Leopold Penn was not there. In fact, he was never seen again. I believe he yet lies in that deathless hell, caught in a vice between life and death, a sacrifice to the masque of Carcosa.  Conclusion by Prof. J.D. Van Alden: 

Upon further independent investigation I found no reports of one Leopold Penn beyond a few panning reviews from critics, as well as a missing persons poster dated to around the time of the incident. However, aside from those scant records there is no other documentation of this man. No birth certificate, no death certificate, no admissions documents from the hospital or any other such papers or records. 

Because it is clear a Mr. Penn existed and was an actor as claimed by Dr. Innsmouth I am inclined to believe the veracity of Dr. Innsmouth’s testimony. Further evidence and investigation is needed to make any proper deductions or examinations of the claims made regarding possession and spatial manipulations made by Dr. Innsmouth..  Addendum from Professor Johann Diederik Van Alden to the Faculty of the Miskatonic University Occult Sciences Department

Dr. Samuel J. Innsmouth is still working at Orca island asylum and still seems to suffer from night terrors. It would be wise to refer him to Mr. Siegel for study and observation. If any peculiar developments arise please notify me at the earliest possible time.

[nosferslotu]

The Auspectives

One thing about me is if a game can have a detective, it will. Here’s three across three of the chronicles I play in/run

I.M D’amore - toreador, gentleman detective based in New York CittttAaay

Remington “red” herring - hardboiled noir detective and columbo kinnie based in Seattle. Sire of Harvey Darling

Renata “deadeye” Giovanni - hecata and occult detective, currently based in Salt Lake City

(Their old designs are under the break)

What Four months of improvement does to a homie

First designed them in June. Re addressed them in October. Super happy with the improvement!

[casuallycryptidcider]

Creating a WOD Character Weekly pt. 1

(Note: I got to use Florence for our emergency one shot last night. So, she’s officially a PC of mine!)

First OC of the new year! I’ve had this PC idea bouncing around in my head for a while now, so I am excited to actually make it!

Florence Du Bois began her unlife after being hanged for doing the alleged crime of witchcraft. She spent many years in the Salem area with her sire researching folklore, the origins of it, and how it relates to the fears of dominant groups. Wanting to discover herself, Florence parted ways with her sire and made her way to Seattle to look more into the regional stories. There she joined the anarch group called The Unbound. Currently, Florence works as the librarian (specializing in the occult) for the group and also acts as an anarch contact for House Carna. However, she recently formed a sexual relationship with a Tremere in the Camarilla called Q (xe/xem).

Florence has the merits of occult library, high purpose, and spirit mentor. She has the flaws of sleeping with the enemy and haunted. The idea between the merits/flaws of spirit mentor and haunted is ghosts that work like an angel and demon over your shoulders.

[angelicshifts]

MY DESIRED REALITIES!!!

SUPERNATURAL📍

star means currently shifting to. pin means used to be main, but it's kinda on the backburner rn. heart means currently active. roadwork sign means the script isn't finished.

NAME: ANGELICA DE LA CRUZ

ROLE: OCCULT INVESTIGATOR

S/O: DEAN WINCHESTER

THE WALKING DEAD📍

NAME: RAQUEL TORRES

ROLE: MECHANIC

S/O: DARYL DIXON

DOCTOR WHO

NAME: PRUDENCE CRAWFORD

ROLE: SCHOOL COUNSELOR AT COAL HILL

S/O: REDACTED

WIZARDING WORLD

NAME: AURA CALDERON

ROLE: HOGWARTS UNIVERSITY STUDENT

S/O: NOT SCRIPTED

THE 100

NAME: REAGAN KANE

ROLE: SKAIKRU'S AMBASSADOR

S/O: NOT SCRIPTED

STAR WARS (AU) ♥️

NAME: AGNA OTZARAH

ROLE: RESISTANCE OPERATIVE

S/O: BEN SOLO

MARVEL ♥️

NAME: MORGANA GRAVES

ROLE: AVENGER TRAINEE

S/O: LOKI

ONCE UPON A TIME

NAME: MALLORY LEBLANC

ROLE: THE LOST PRINCESS OF MARMOREAL

S/O: NOT SCRIPTED

GREY'S ANATOMY

NAME: VIOLA FERREIRA

ROLE: SURGICAL INTERN AT SEATTLE GRACE HOSPITAL

S/O: NOT SCRIPTED

DETECTIVE COMICS 🚧

NAME: YVONNE SYLVESTER

ROLE: VIGILANTE

S/O: JASON TODD

THE WHEEL OF TIME 🚧 ⭐️

NAME: ODIHLE MUIREHD

ROLE: WARDER

S/O: LAN MANDRAGORAN

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

p.s. if we have any drs in common, let's be moots!!!

[edgeofthecirclebooks]

[yukoishii]

[orbitalsparkle]

!Orbital Sparkle Masterpost!

Welcome to the Orbital Sparkle campaign page! Here, you will find everything having to do with the game, the players, and the general plot! As well as that, there will be links to each player's introduction page, and any other important posts. So without further ado, Campaign name- Sparkle Rolls: Orbital Sparkle

Game- Blades in The Dark (minorly hacked) Story- Magical Girls GM- @eldrigeonsss

Total player count- 7 Sessions played- 1

The Players

Sierra ( @moreclaypigeons) Character: Urania "Raini" Playbook: Leech Planet/Bird: Uranus / tba

Guthrie ( @guthrie-odonto ) Character: Kuro Seti Playbook: Hull Planet/Bird: Pluto / masked lapwing Devo ( @cambriascall ) Character: Lulu/Cythe Playbook: Vampire (modified) Planet/Bird: Venus / Fruit Bat Robin (@melonkittii ) Character: Mimi Imi Playbook: Whisper Planet/Bird: Saturn / tba Dylan ( @/blsbaddie [discord] ) Character: tba Playbook: tba Planet/Bird: Mercury / tba Serenade Character: tba Playbook: tba Planet/Bird: Ceres / tba

-------------------------------------------------------------

The Crew

Crew type: Occult Reputation: Daring Tier: tba Hold: tba

The Setting

Welcome to the beautiful city of Newol Seattle, in the beautiful year of 2068! If you haven't heard, The Great Year is soon approaching, so the cities citizens are all getting ready for its arrival.

It has been about 50 years since the Catalyst Event that caused all of earth's society to crumble, and our rebuilt world is better than ever! Perfect, one might say. Yes, even though the Rewritten Years were hard on everyone, humanity is resilient, and through the collapse of Old Age government, capitalism, and structure, we have found something much more valuable! Community! And through community we have found our city! Built on the rubble of New and Old Seattle, Newol Seattle is the pinnacle of the country Washington's glory Not that there is much outside of it Sporting some truly astounding architecture, with very organized city structuring, you will find that this is the city of your dreams. Take a ride on the light rail, see the first ever building to touch into space, tour through some of the most beautiful gardens in all of the world. Or go down further, find the neon-lit night markets, see Old Age technology first hand in the scrap pits, discover tunnels that lead down into places unkown. The possibilities are endless, so feel free to get lost in our illustrious city!

The Story

tba ^^

[gyakusama]

Ears lift, only barely, beneath cascade of white hair. What was he? However, instead of ... something polite, or even introductory, her lips part: ❝ Did you cut your bangs in the middle of a mental breakdown? I get it ... I did it once. But it turned out like ... bad. The bob is cute! ❞

❝ 's that any way t' speak to a customer? ❞ Yes, he cut his hair in the middle of a mental breakdown, but that was forever ago!

Now, what brings Captain Shinji Hirako all the way out to a little occult shop in Seattle, Washington? To find something that cannot easily be purchased in Japan or the Soul Society, of course. Something unique. Something that might help make up for his absence from the World of the Living...

Most of the Visored (and Kisuke) have their birthdays towards the end of the year────a time Shinji anticipates being, unfortunately, very busy. So he might as well do a bit of shopping while he has the free time. Hachi in particular seems to have taken up an interest in ❛ human magic ❜ recently────which makes sense, if you think of Kidō as the Shinigami equivalent to magic.

❝ Ya got any...spellcraft...things? ❞

[thisandthat-whatever]

How do you like New York City overall?

I like it way better than LA . It fits my vibe better.

Hell-A is my least favourite city in USA. It is not a coincidence that most who like NYC don’t like LA and vice versa. I know some people who would prefer LA, so it is a personal choice. I have been to many cities here through travels mostly , from Seattle (where I actually lived for six months when I first came to USA) to Ohio City (passing through. Too rural for me), from San Francisco (pre-whatever is happening there now) to Chicago, etc.

To live I would recommend Seattle and NYC. To visit , like if you have only a few days to visit somewhere in the US, I’d say NOLA because New Orleans is the most interesting and different American city compared to all others. It has that occult intrigue on top of everything. 😂 I was there for only three days but I wanna go back because I don’t think I explored their cajun cuisine enough.