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

Invite codes

[lightgetsin]

RQGEFBP2E5H37AAAGPSF
EZ3ARSSE2CP4DAAAGPSG
EV85BMH5K32JZAAAGPSH
N7HN2QQ4D6SWFAAAGPSJ
SJC9P93WEKEZVAAAGPSK
782SHFRGSD7AKAAAGPSL
RC3STWZBMM25CAAAGPSM
58FRTFVV4RNM4AAAH8ND
3C4YGMWYW4ZYWAAAH8NE

[readyaimfuego]

[Harry Dresden slouches on a bench in Millennium Park, enjoying the end of Winter as some more Spring-ly warmth starts to break into the city. He's reading a book with one hand and eating a Hostess cupcake with the other.]

[bigraudr]

He's on his lunch break. Yeah, he gets one of those. So it's sunny and warm, he's got a box of Wow Bao, a pad thai salad and some pomegranate ginger ale, The Collected Essays of Robert Creeley, his phone ready in case something comes up, and a vantage point in Millennium Park where he can see the office just in case. Life is good.

He died in Winter. And Winter doesn't give its prizes away.

[fanatic_os]

It's a nice night, the sky ripe with stars just coming out, pale glimmers and a rising sliver of moon. There are a few puddles on the ground, from a day intermittent with Chicago spring showers, and the scent of flowers, of new life and fresh earth.

It's risky, being here. This side of the Nevernever. This city, maybe, particularly. But Winter's hold is strong in Chicago, is rooted deep with Maeve in Undertown and Dresden's homestead, and there's neutral ground just a few steps away. And the mortal world is tempting, all the more so since it's been lost to him. Too tempting to stay away from for long.

Morgan opens the door to MacAnally's, and disappears down the stairs.

[thirteen_pillars]

Somewhere in Chicago, in a hole in a wall and down a flight of stairs, there's a tavern. There's no neon sign to guide you in, just a wooden sign; neon doesn't do well around the clientel they get inside.

There are thirteen wooden tables, thirteen carved pillars, thirteen slow-spinning ceiling fans, thirteen high windows. There's a little plaque that says 'Accorded Neutral Territory.' There's a bartender, tall, bald, moderately muscular and moderately ageless, in a crisp white work shirt and apron.

There's the best microbrewed old world ale in Chicago; there's a damn fine menu, but don't expect to be served. You have legs; walk to the bar and get it.

Mac's is open.