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: 4/more

[grenegome]

I pondered the fractured feather in my hands, and then chanced a glance at Maeve. She somehow managed some kind of eye-sigh at me, accompanied by a flick of her fingers. The quill knitted itself back together. Magic. But maybe scribbling was a bad idea.

I left off subtly insulting Marcone, and he quit sneaking glances over my shoulder. Compromise: Just like old times. Mostly.

But laying off the scribbling didn’t help so much with my attempt at neat notetaking. I was looping around the curve of a ‘c’ when I felt my hand spasm, and push the quill sharply against the vellum, until it snapped.

My stomach lurched. Maybe it wasn’t just magic that had to settle: I’d been dead for six months, on genus loci life support, which is exactly the kind of thing that would usually land you months of physiotherapy. Not a few weeks marauding around Arctis Tor, accidentally putting the fear of Dresden into the local fae with some unintentional shows of power.

Maybe I wasn’t ok.

I looked up, but not at Maeve. It was Marcone I glanced at, the only other human in the room, the only other person subject to the limitations of a mortal body. Even if mine came with a few bonus features. He frowned a question at me, just slightly, and I felt the quill knit together in my hands once more.

Fine. Ok. I could sit here fracturing feathers all day, and Maeve could fix them right back up again, and it didn’t matter that my body was being kind of insubordinate.

I’d get better.

I took a slow breath, and loosened my grip on the shaft of the quill. If this needed a delicate touch then fine, I could do that. I’d etched enough teeny tiny runes into various artifacts in my career.

I just had to relax, and not- fuck.

The nib scratched off the end of the vellum, ground across the table, and promptly split, leaking ink everywhere. “Arctis,” I hissed, before it could ruin my notes, and then I sat and glared at the mess, feeling hard done by.

A ballpoint pen rolled across my page. I looked at Marcone, and got blank expression #12, which meant I had no idea if he was secretly laughing at me or not.

“No gifts, Baron.” Maeve said. “Not here. It must be paid for.”

Gifts. A goddamn pen, and I never figured Marcone for the ballpoint type, I thought he’d be all Montblanc underwater anti-gravity pens with Kevlar plating, not a slim tube of plastic that looked a bit gnawed on. But I wanted it. It was stupid and cheap and human but I looked at it and I knew it would work for me, that I didn’t need to be dicking around with bits of bird like a medieval clerk.

Surely I could trade for a ballpoint. I checked my pockets, and came up empty. I could give him the cuff links, maybe, but I was pretty sure they’d be viewed as a Winter token. Too much.

The creatures around the table began to shift, apparently disturbed by this interruption to their fascinating discussion. He-man got bored faster than the others.

“Hurry up wizard,” Thor said. “Even a kiss would do.”

I blinked at Thor, who was very... big, and macho, and Viking, and apparently suggesting that when in Rome... they did do that in Europe, right? All the cheek kissing, just like shaking hands.

I turned to look at Marcone, and his face was even blanker. I didn’t think that was humanly possible, so maybe he’d been practicing since I died.

I leaned forward, pecked John Marcone on the cheek, and sat back, the proud owner of one second hand ballpoint pen. I wondered what the going rate would have been if he had handed me one of those anti-tank missile Montblanc things.

I turned to ask, grinning, and then faltered. Marcone’s expression didn’t count as ‘blank’ any more, he’d gone straight through blank and into something else: I looked into his eyes, and he wasn’t even there.

“Shall we continue?” he asked blandly.

Feeling strangely unnerved, I turned back to my notes. “How do you spell disenfranchisement?”

Re: Filled: 4/more

[luciazephyr]

AAAAAAAAAAAAH

aaaaaaaah


omg ♥ NO GIFTS ALLOWED. A kiss on the cheek for a ballpoint. What a shame that Marcone didn't have any fancy fountain pens. 8D

Re: Filled: 4/more

[grenegome]

Or one of those cool highlighters that dispense mini post-it notes...

Re: Filled: 4/more

[luciazephyr]

How much Knightly affection would be needed to pay off this?

Re: Filled: 4/more

[grenegome]

That is the most ridiculous writing implement I have ever seen.

Re: Filled: 4/more

[(Anonymous)]

Wow, John's day is looking up. Not only is Harry not dead, and wearing a snazzy suit, and sitting next to him - he's needing favors and dispensing kisses in return. John's decade is looking up.

Also I love this. Just so you know.

Re: Filled: 4/more

[(Anonymous)]

Somehow Harry's death has rocketed them all back into grade school. Harry and Maeve bickering, John just has to sit next to Harry and look over his shoulder while he's writing, Harry responds by writing insults about John. John lets Harry borrow a pen. SO ADORABLE.

Re: Filled: 4/more

[(Anonymous)]

Mont Blanc pens are cheap.
Kisses from your knightly crush?
PRICELESS