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Latest Journals

3 months, 1 week ago: Lilith (Lily) Weider wrote a Downtime Journal for Sub-Standard

Tapping In To The Curse

There is a lot of stigma around blood ritual. I say this like it's not obvious to mundies, but even Contractors are squeamish. These individuals who've likely seen worse creatures than I have, between black, spider-like sci-fi monsters, hungry demon dogs, alien mushroom monsters, I can't imagine that a little bit of blood is enough to make them hesitate. Always an uphill battle to get blood from them, even though I've expressed nothing but upsides for doing so. Communication is incredibly important for a well-functioning team, and I hold the key to that. All I need is a small sample... 

Nickolai came around to it. I got the sense that he did it, perhaps out of... regret? Big drinker, that one. Cracked a couple of glasses in the process, too, which made the bartender awfully happy. Well in any case, he aided me greatly. Picked me up and ran with back to the moon pool before any of the beasties could get to me. This wasn't out of any goodwill, I suppose, I had the object that secured our payment. But he seemed all bitten up at the time. So now I've got the blood of a Russian body builder and the blood of the American Superhero, Mark Collins. 

Storing small samples of blood inside of my body has generally been successful this far, especially to make sure that I never have to lose contact with my siblings or Harry. But I've found a need for larger volumes of blood stored covertly. I've continued to look inward for a solution, and I believe that I've found it. These ever-leaking wounds, they seem to seep with an amount of blood that is unrelated to how much is inside of my body. Well... with the help of a little bit of inspiration from payment, all I need are some gestures to complete a minor magic that will control and absorb blood into my wounds. It gives me a limited control of blood in a short range, too, which looks neat and can be spooky for those aforementioned mundies. This will be excellent for fueling the rituals I develop in the future.

1 year, 9 months ago: Angel Cooper wrote a Downtime Journal for A Welcoming Party

Stir Crazy

Alright, I know I shouldn’t be complaining about not having anything to do. I’m literally living a book series- or maybe a tv series, but books are better man, everyone knows that… but I don’t know if this is book level, I don’t know, it’s gotta be book level I guess cause it should be the only thing out here. ONE kinda storyline, one kinda superhero. Contractors instead of Shadowhunters or Blade Runners or Wizards or whatever.


But… I have NOTHING TO DO. I’m poor and I lost the last goddamn job cuz of the window, nothing to test out, banned from the batting cages (yeah- I got a letter. A letter, not a phone call. Only reason I didn’t throw it out was because they put my name as Angelo thinking it was my full name or somethin. It’s not. “Cooper” ain’t exactly an Italian last name either.), library’s closed, Crossley doesn’t need help with anything… and I’m on thin ice with the cops, perpetually, so I can’t go out doin hero shit because they’ll see me and go “hey! that’s the guy that ran when we saw him buying pills from Daniel Dirk!” and it won’t matter if I’m beating down the WORST guy in the city, that’s all they’ll see. Pricks.


I’m getting stir crazy, need something to do. I wasn’t built to sit around and it feels like, since I started the jobs, I’ve been even worse at keeping still. I’m always bouncing and drumming on my legs- I swear the library’s never been so clean, I keep going back to the same things, organizing and dusting n shit. Can you see me with a feather duster? Feel like a french maid. But I can’t help it… Crossley’s thankful, at least, so I don’t think I’ll be losing my job even with the missing shifts. I just gotta find something to do soon.

1 year, 10 months ago: Angel Cooper wrote a Downtime Journal for Air Out Your Differences

I’m a Shadowhunter! BOOYAH!

Crossley said I can’t bother the kids anymore. Crossley doesn’t even KNOW. I was helping him, kid was cool, he’s gotta know! Man, that’s all I ever wanted. Some guy comes up, picks me, tells me what’s going on behind the scenes. I woulda killed for it- but I’m not s’posed to do that, I’ve gotta- oh, man, I didn’t even say.


I’m like, a Shadowhunter. Gotta be. The runes on my bat are glowing, especially the Bridge- dude, this is so cool. Like I was just trying to sleep and I’m like, what’s that red light, just like a movie, I go over to my bag and bam! She’s all lit up! I can’t get over it. It was beautiful… she was singing, humming like she was just full of energy. Incredible, man.


I gotta use this power for good, y’know? That’s like, the thing. Shadowhunters- heheh, Shadowhunters are doing Angels’ work. Raziel, not me. Imagine that. I don’t have a stele, and I don’t need one, I got my bat, but I think I’d be bad with the lighter little things anyway. Not good with “delicates”. Crossley gets nervous around me n books, but she wouldn’t have hired me if she thought I was THAT bad. Never set anything on fire or nothing.


The library is nice. I wouldn’t want anyone fucking it up- maybe that’ll be my first job, protecting this place. We got the desk, we got the dinky old computers, we got the beanbag chairs and that little plastic horse rocker thing. We got Chinese food next door. We got barely any silverfish, and a water fountain- yeah, this place is great. Crossley’s nice letting me stay here even when I’m not on the clock. Keeps my bills down and me from BEING down, heheh. Yeah. We’re gonna order some blankets soon, be nice for naps and winter.


But yeah. A new chapter in the life of Angel Russel Cooper, Shadowhunter, soon to be billionaire. I just gotta play my cards right, and I’ll be everyone’s hero.

2 years, 4 months ago: Anton Ortega wrote a Downtime Journal for Time is Not on Your Side

No, I'm *not* Banksy

Alright. Okay. Fine. The dude was right. I guess I'm magic now. It's cool, but it's also... a pain in the ass.

For whatever reason, I'm now having to deal with hordes of fans constantly after my autograph or my picture or whatever the heck else. Even people who've never heard of me before approach me like we've always been great friends. And what am I supposed to do? Brush them off?! Hell no! This is the most successful that I've been like... ever

Doesn't make it any less of a pain in the ass.  

Imagine, one day I'm spraypainting concrete walls behind 7/11 and stenciling beat-up billboards thinking that no one gives a single solitary shit, and now I learn that people have been wondering who I am for a real long time. Something about feeling inspired by my "edgy" messages. C'mon, edgy? I'm not that edgy. Okay, maybe I'm a little bit edgy, but not more than anyone else my age.

Though, I've gotta say, the number of times people have thought my work was Banksy's... And now people are convinced that I'm Banksy... and I'm apparently just derivitive of Banksy...

Alright, come the hell on now. Not every motherfucker with a paint can and a stencil is Banksy. I've got much more interesting themes than them. And I use tons of colors, not just black and red! Even though I like using stencils, I love flowing free-form work just as much.

And now, I'm known for it all, I guess. The price of fame, huh?

Something about finishing that job... changed me, too.

All of a sudden, I can lie about even petty things and people don't even question me. "What did you have for dinner last night,"

"Oh, you know, foie gras."

"Oh, cool, where'd you get that?"


Like it's nothing. Not a thing.

It gets even stranger, too. 

I've started to... see people differently. They walk past me and I see a glimpse of something below the surface. Something beneath the public mask that they wear. I can take a single look at them and see them as a work of art. Layers of paint on a human canvas. What makes them tick. What makes them happy and what makes them sad. It's just all there, just as the world has always meant to see it.

Deep man. Hella deep. 

2 years, 4 months ago: Anton Ortega wrote a Contract Journal for Time is Not on Your Side

An untitled Journal

So, what did we learn today?

Lesson one: Magic is real. Lesson two: Tazers kinda suck. Lesson three: bullets fucking hurt.

I keep expecting myself to wake up from this whole situation like it was a bad dream. Well-dressed dude with a tattoo, made out of like... who knows what. Could take bullets way better than I could. Did I mention that those things hurt?

Because they do. They fucking hurt. Especially when running. And when being jostled in a car by an insane frat-bro.

Some fancy pocketwatch with little glowing jewels that could turn back time up to three times in a span of 24 hours. We were tasked with getting it from him, one way or another. Didn't kill him anyways. 

Christ, is that right? Someone died a few days ago. And I'm responsible for that. I mean, I didn't pull the trigger. But still, I lead to someone's death. He probably realized that bullets fuckin' hurt right at the last moment, too, huh? Or not, maybe it didn't feel like much of anything. Just a bang and then nothing. Yikes.

This is probably something I should paint, right? No, not the bullets hurting thing, but the timepeice thing. Magic being real, all of that. And what? Now I'm supposed to be part magic now? Given a reward for dealing with some crazy shit and now... now I get to do crazy shit back.

I've only ever been a petty criminal. Nothing like killing a goddamn cop. Vandalism is a far cry from whatever the hell just happened in Europe. 

I don't know, I just wanted to make great art. I hope this is all worth it. If I really think about it, I already feel... smarter? Sharper? Different. Just different. Ideas and inspiration seems to come quicker now. It takes me half the time to sketch an idea than it did before I shook that guy's hand. I can only imagine what that's going to mean for my art when I get in front of a canvas.

2 years, 5 months ago: Mikey Rayes wrote a Downtime Journal for Air Out Your Differences

Shopping Trip

            My first “Contract” or whatever you call these new jobs was in a very interesting space. I was seemingly teleported there so I didn’t have a chance to bring any of my cars, not that I think they would have helped much. Still, I don’t know what other jobs will have in store so it’s probably best to be prepared for anything. Not that I really need an excuse to pick up new vehicles.

            I think I’ll pick up a boat, something fast. That way if I must get somewhere by water, I’ll be ready. I drove a boat once for a job before. I did some practice before that so I’m sure I’ll still remember how. Still, I’ll have to practice some to get back up to speed. I’ve been meaning to get a boat anyways.

            If we must go off road somewhere I certainly don’t want to have to go on foot. I’m going to pick up a nice new ATV. A nice big one with a powerful engine, high torque, something that will really be all terrain.

            A helicopter would be useful for any job where I can’t use one of my other vehicles. I’ve never flown one before, but it shouldn’t be too hard. I’m sure it’s just like a plan or a zeppelin. Nothing I can’t pick up over a week. That should help make sure I’m ready for my next job.

            I’ll pick up a Bugatti while I’m at it. Treat yourself and all that.

2 years, 9 months ago: Jules wrote a Downtime Journal for Air Out Your Differences

The van broke down

After my excitement of finally being able to win I completly forgot about my van. It is a 89 Ford and it tends to break down at times. I have tried ot get it fixed a few times but after a while mechanics either refuse to work on it or want to charge me thousand to maybe repair where this might work or this could be the right thing. I really have no idea how to fix a car or how to do anything so I have to get creative and try things that might not be the best advice to give to well anyone.


This week it was the oil. This thing leak oil like no tomorrow. It always has a leak somewhere and it always happens in the wrong spot. So nornally you takr the vehical in and the shop repairs it. They wanted 3,000 to look at the thing. Now I am not a car guy but that sounded like a alot of money to fix a stupid oil leak. So I did what any person that is low on cash would do. I bought more oil and lots of duct tape. Yes you heard me. I bought it and then wrapped it around anything that I could find.


So the issue with this is that duct tape doesn't do well with road conditions and lots of heat. Or the idea of doing lots of stops and starts so I have to re duct tape many area so that is a pain. But it is easier that one might think. Oh and I was able to get my hands on a Picasso. It was pretty easy but I never knew the cops wanted it so bad maybe that shouldn't leave pricelesss art hanging around.

2 years, 9 months ago: Jules wrote a Downtime Journal for A Welcoming Party

Another night

It's been a while since I actually wrote in this journal. I was suprised by what I have accomplished in all that time. I still am but I will have to take some time to think back between what happened after that contract to what I have done getween the time. So from what I remeber I lost because I left the mansion. I guess I should have shot them and tried something else. After that I got back in my van and started to move around from place to place looking for another score.

Mind you I dont do drugs and drink or anything like that. I like to steal from people. Yes yes you can call me a bad person but what if I told you that many times these people that I do take from have stolen from other and hurt people? These large organizations make so much profit especially the musems they have large donation that they use for so man nefarious schemes. I can not begin to tell you how bad it has become.

I generally take my time and look for a muesm that is large but there was a smaller musem nearby that had the right type of foolery. The owner had taken art form an old man and used it to fund his new enterprise so I decided to take everything that he had.

I need a good distraction so I decided to use terminets people hate bugs I tell them there is a infestation and we made a mistake and need to sweep the area. All free. That is the big important part dont charge ir you have to work for a living. They never like that.

2 years, 11 months ago: Grace Cyanide wrote a Downtime Journal for Sub-Optimal

This Sucksssssss

Dear Diary,

Living in the woods kinda sucks. My friend has been helping me know what to eat and what not to eat, and stuff like that, and we've been catching small things to eat which I really hated at first cause it's gross and I feel bad for the animals but my friend says I have to eat cause I'm still a human. I'm learning how to pay attention more to what I can catch and what I can't, but sometimes even when I find something, I freeze up... my friend gives me a nudge. She's telling me right now that it's okay to be nervous. She said that she'll take care of me. She said you don't have to write that down, Grace. Oh. Sorry. She said

My friend introduced me to her cat. She asked me to get a ball of yarn, and we were able to get one from the store cause we made sure it was when there wasn't a lot of people around and we sat in the river (which took a bit but we found somewhere shallow so I wasn't so scared) and everything so we didn't smell bad and people didn't go wow what's that smell, and look over at me. But I put the yarn in my bag and walked out behind a family, and after all that we got back to the woods and she guided me around shaking the yarn and calling for her cat, who actually came! He's all ashy, and ghosty like her, and his name is Horatio. She said Horatio is a good kitty and he'll be helpful for us if we have to do more dangerous things. Maybe he can scratch people? My friend can talk to him, but I can't. She tells me what he says, and sometimes we bring him out to play. Thank you for listening Dear Diary.

Blanche was created by Tsair 3 years, 2 months ago

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Earth, slightly victorian era, steampunk style tech.

Full Setting Description

Airships, steam power, and weird anachronisms. Goggled men fly steam powered hover boards as they patrol the streets, high class parties indulge in all the latest fashions. Well dressed gangs strut through the streets wielding blade-slinging guns. Supernatural elements are basically unknown here naturally, however when witnessed most things can be written off as technology. If it can't, it may strike fear into the inhabitants.