Ghost Story Prompts and meta

[dresden_kink_mods]

The Ghost Story spoiler period is expired; prompts, meta, discussion, etc. including Ghost Story spoilers can take place in the regular pages, but please consider your fellow fans, and continue to warn for spoilers. You can continue to use this post if you would like.


Change of plans, folks. Given the fact that Ghost Story spoilers are supposedly already floating around the web and the fact that there's an early limited release at Comic Con this weekend, we're going to start a Ghost Story specific post.

All GS related prompts, fills, discussion and meta go here so as to not spoil your fellow fans (at least the ones that don't want to be :D). All fills should follow posting guidelines, with the exception of GS meta going to the meta/discussion post. Questions? Ask the mods.

Flat view: http://dresden-kink.dreamwidth.org/2520.html?view=flat

In case it needs to be said. All comments to this post are read at the risk of spoilers.

Comments

Filled: 3/Laaaaa

[grenegome]

All told, there were nine beings present at the meeting, including me and Maeve. I was introduced to the five I hadn’t met yet, pulling out my best company manners, partly to keep Maeve on side, and partly to thumb my nose at Marcone: He probably expected politicking to bring me out in hives.

I kind of forgot about politicking when it came to choosing a seat at the oval board room table- it looked a little out of place in what seemed to be some kind of marble mausoleum. Dropping into the empty seat on Maeve’s right seemed to be the logical thing to do, but I didn’t expect Marcone to move directly to the chair on my right. He practically hip checked Slow Moving Tentacle Creature - Name Unspoken By Mortal Tongue in the process.

This... possibly wasn’t the smartest seating arrangement in the world. Not if I was sticking with Plan A: Gold Star for Good Behaviour. Because, yeah, me and Marcone had managed to share a city for the best part of my adult life, but we hadn’t exactly done it quietly. Or politely. Or courteously. Or many other -ly words that were synonymous with me being appropriately Knightly through the course of this meeting. But there wasn’t much I could do about it without looking like some kind of bad mannered yob.

I turned to Maeve, contemplating raising the Emergency Eyebrow Flag, but got distracted by the gesture she made in mid air. The Winter Lady drew a swan’s feather quill and what I thought might be vellum out of the air between us, and then slid the administrative props in front of me.

That was... kind of cool. The quill even had all the feathery bits still fluffing out from the shaft, all Hollywood anachronism. She’d forgotten something though. “Ink pot?” I grinned at Maeve.

“No need,” she said dismissively, waving at the quill. Hmm. I set nib to paper, and then with an unnecessarily showy spiral, swept dark ink across the page. Cool. Never ending ink, very Harry Potter. I sent my will questing out into the feather, looking for the root of the spell, when Maeve kicked me under the table. “I’ll show you later,” she murmured. “Now concentrate.”

Maeve was suddenly all business, and it surprised me a little bit. Maybe I wasn’t the only one on his best behaviour, being tested on a milk run. It’s not like Maeve had a stellar track record at handling Winter’s Knights, and Mab had kept her daughter back in the throne room...

Huh. I added that one to the things to ask my godmother list.

As far as I could tell, there was no advantage to me in letting Mab think her daughter couldn’t control me. Not at this stage. So I resolved to do a good job, and started scribbling away as soon as the Winter Lady addressed the room at large.

It was pretty easy. Attention to detail and a steady attention span were something that years of professional wizardry had drummed into me; I could probably take minutes in my sleep.

...Except, if I were sleeping, I wouldn’t have Baron Fucking Marcone sneaking oh so subtle glances over my shoulder as my hand scrabbled across the page.

In my defence, it was really distracting.

And he probably knew it. He was probably trying to wind me up.

So my response was proportionate, and totally, not in any way, childish.

Ventoro of the Tiber states that the discussed amendment has a disproportionate affect on those who make no claim to mortal strongholds, and that John Marcone is a nosy jackass who really needs to mind his own business.

It took him a couple of seconds to notice, and I wouldn’t have caught his reaction if we hadn’t shared a city for most of my adult life, and I wasn’t watching out of the corner of my eye.

Marcone straightened, just slightly, and for a moment trailed to a halt in the middle of his own sentence. I smiled at the vellum, waited for a moment, and let Marcone contemplate the idea that I might just sit here and pepper this official record of the meeting with juvenile comments about him.

And then I scribbled it out.

The quill snapped, and I splattered ink all across the table.

Aw, crap.

Re: Filled: 3/Laaaaa

[luciazephyr]

JOHN NEARLY HIP-CHECKED A TENTACLE MONSTER TO SIT NEXT TO HARRY


oh my god John you have issues

Re: Filled: 3/Laaaaa

[(Anonymous)]

HOSHIT A TENTACLE MONSTER IS GOING TO SIT NEXT TO HARRY

A GENTLEMAN WILL NOT PERMIT THIS TO HAPPEN

~LE NUDGE~