Dressing Room

[dresden_kink_mods]

Ack! Close the door; people are changing in here!

This post is for RPG shenanigans. The rules stand. A short refresher: don't be an asshole.

This post-specifics: multiple characters are okay. Characters specific to alternate verses are okay. OCs are okay. Your journal coming in to hang too is okay. There isn't a formal scenario here; it's an open sandbox where all characters and community-watchers can come and play. If your thread is going adult-only, put up a notice in the subject line. If it's going into trigger territory, don't be an asshole: no noncon-noncon'ing anyone, watchers included. Don't start OOC shit.

And have a blast!

(Don't have a dreamwidth account for your character(s)? Go check out dw_codesharing. If there's nothing on the first page, dig deep. Lots get missed, especially when new codes go out. Also, check out the code sharing post.)

Comments

[sonofaknight]

"Umm. Sure. Even handsome princes get to go to the ball, right?" [In a ball gown. Tiara. Glass slippers. Setting the first guy that tried to kiss his hand on fire. Yup]

"Yeah, as long as he doesn't decide to shoot the messenger, right?" [But... this whole Baron thing. It's kind of intriguing. He's not saying he likes the idea of a mob boss having that kind of power or anything. But Harry's pretty much vouched for the guy. And there's something to this, he's sure of it. It just need to percolate for a while.

Aaaand he covers his ears. Not listeniiiing.] "SO HEY. CUBS SEASON'S STARTED."

[readyaimfuego]

[Oh, what? They're doing that? Harry eyes Daniel suspiciously.] You... you cast me as the girl, didn't you? [8| There is nothing girlish about him, faerie godmother aside. It's not his fault his mother didn't think that through when she set it up.]

He won't. He knows I'd go nuclear on him if he did. And... you're a kid, sort of. He doesn't hurt kids. You're fine. [Vouching? No, never. Harry's just informing. Marcone's still a scumbag murderous bastard. No cognitive dissonance here.]

[Harry laughs openly.] Yes, must protect virgin ears from such talk. Sports, right. Cubs! They won, no thanks to Zambrano. Yeeeep.

[sonofaknight]

[Oops. He winced.] "Sorry, Harry. Just the image. You know. Disney. Stroke of midnight." [No harm meant. Macho pride all in place, right?]

"I'm 20!" [...He's 20!]

"Heh. Not much you can say about that game other than that it was a Cub's game. Inside and out."

[readyaimfuego]

You know, the stroke of midnight thing doesn't make much sense, magic wise. The turn of the day depends on were the sun is. Midnight wouldn't mean anything to the Fae...

So you are, kid. So you are. [Oh, the youngsters these days, so eager to be adults.]

Still. First game. We must all make our pilgrimage to Wrigley. [He bows his head reverently. Then scarfs down another cupcake. Om nom nom.]

[sonofaknight]

[Oh. Um.] "...Stroke of noon?" [Er?

His eyes squinched. He knew when he was being made fun of... but it was Harry. He'd snarked back at Daniel's MOM. It was just what he did, right?]

"Be the tradition," he agreed. "No matter how painful."