[identity profile] best-guitarist.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] hh_mirror
((OOC: Warning for general NSFW language and situations throughout the comments, although any actual sex will probably get the fade to black treatment so as not to break the players' minds...))

There was the unmistakable sound of another butter-greasy body hitting the floor, followed by the clatter of his mysteriously indestructible electric guitar that accompanied him everywhere, and a name disappearing from the popcorn plaque that could mean only one thing. Everybody's favourite six and a half foot tall (give or take an inch), stereotypically blond and blue-eyed Swede guitarist with a dubious grasp of English and weakness for GMILFs was back. Okay, so the only people who even pretended to tolerate him were presumably still in Mordhaus, but he's convinced everybody thinks he's awesome anyway. Because he's Skwisgaar Skwigelf, fastest guitarist in the world. His native world, at any rate.

"I hope I's not brokes anythings," he groaned without bothering to get up off the floor to check. He hadn't landed on his hands or wrists, and that was all that really mattered. He was on his back, and tilted his head side to side, looking at his surroundings and managing to recognise them. It was that stupid magic and very unmetal castle again. He pulled his guitar into his lap as he sat up. "Oh, dis is dildos," he muttered to himself. "I almost dies and get sents back heres?" He tuned his guitar and continued griping and swearing colourfully in Swedish since there was no one else around to hear, or so he thought.

Date: 2009-07-09 05:19 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 12panelwonder.livejournal.com
Matt snorted. "Ha. You're lucky. I did dies and get sents back heres." Yes, Matt was mocking him.

Date: 2009-07-09 05:54 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] 12panelwonder.livejournal.com
Matt scoffed. "Sounds boring. I have better things to do with my time. Like play videogames."

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Date: 2009-07-09 05:23 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] livingaustria.livejournal.com
Austria's sensibilities were offended. It wasn't the bad English, England and America were full of themselves anyway. It wasn't that he was Swedish, Austria was actually on fairly good terms with Sweden (or as good terms as you can be when he naturally and quite accidentally intimidates countries).

It was the music.

As the homeland of a good portion of classical music, he was offended by metal music, and fast finger playing.

"For the love of God, play slower!"

Date: 2009-07-09 05:51 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] livingaustria.livejournal.com
"I do play slower, and my music is better for it! And I shall look how I please! What right have you to tell me how I dress anyway?"

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Date: 2009-07-09 05:24 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] omg-sunflora.livejournal.com
"Your hair matches!" Trust Sunflora to notice the odd things.

Date: 2009-07-09 05:55 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] omg-sunflora.livejournal.com
"It matches me! We're both yellow!" Sunflora grinned. "I'm Sunflora."

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Date: 2009-07-09 06:46 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] i-am-harkonnen.livejournal.com
Due to the rather unpleasant things he'd heard about "Popcorning", Baron Vladimir Harkonnen had been avoiding the Popcorn Room's entire corridor as much as possible, just for good measure. But, as hallways did have a tendency to rearrange themselves, this wasn't always possible, and so he managed to find himself outside the room anyway. But, he wondered if this had been a mistake when he found Skwisgaar sitting there with some bizarre instrument. It wasn't often that one found a butter-soaked man sitting around, let along a quite good-looking one.

He smoothed out his lavish velvet robes and drifted over to the guitarist, his grotesquely fat body floating a couple inches above the ground. "So. . .do you need any help cleaning that off?" He gave Skwisgaar a wry, lecherous smirk as he looked him over. He wasn't usually that blunt in his interests, but, something about Skwisgaar inspired it- possibly the fact that he couldn't think of anything else to say to a greasy young man.

Date: 2009-07-09 05:43 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] i-am-harkonnen.livejournal.com
((*dies laughing* Too hilarious. XD And I'm probably the one to be apologizing given my frequent habit of TL;DRing.))

Unfortunately for Skwisgaar, the Baron wasn't female- but he was wearing a robe which, any way one wants to rationalize it, is pretty damn close to a dress . And he wasn't all that wrinkly, as, he was spice-preserved enough to appear somewhere in his 50s, rather than the 80 years he actually was.

Vladimir had figured he was stabbing in the dark- Hogwarts was a weird place, and although any greasy young man sitting around his palace would almost surely be one of the many slaves he kept around for pleasure time, at Hogwarts, it could mean anything. However, he couldn't miss what was going on in Skwisgaar's pants when he shifted his instrument, and he drifted closer to the guitarist, his suspensor harness also starting to feel much too snug in certain places.

He had to listen carefully, wondering briefly why the translation charm didn't entirely smooth out Skwisgaar's speech, but, he could understand him well enough to interpret that his rather blunt proposition didn't appear to be being flat-out rejected. In fact, Skwisgaar sounded like he might be downright kinky. This was a good thing, in the Baron's opinion. He wasn't sure if he'd agree to put on any wigs, although, surely a bit of eyeliner like that beautiful boy on the Muggle TV singing contest might be alright if it was Skwisgaar's kink- he'd of course discovered American Idol, fascinated with TV as he was.

"A shower I can help with- I've got the keys to the good private faculty one." He put his emphasis on the word private, and his smile at Skwisgaar was an unquestionable insinuation of his intent. "It's not far from here, unless the hallway's moved again. I'm not sure about wigs. . . do you think I need one?" He smirked dryly, running a fat hand through what was a quite respectable crop of red curls, given his age. "But. . . I might not be adverse to a bit of eyeliner, if that's your thing. . . " He looked Skwisgaar over again, thinking that it would probably be an acceptable sacrifice for the sake of pleasure- everyone had their little fetishes, some more than others, and, those ones were generally the most fun. He didn't quite realize that Skwisgaar was implying crossdressing, of course.

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Date: 2009-07-10 04:38 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hopalongmcgurk.livejournal.com
I'm 38 years old, which doesn't qualify me for gmilf status. However, even hunchbacked albino dwarves need to occasionally drool at beefcake. And what with the high numbers of men in this place, I get my wish more often than not.

I study this one critically. "Nice guitar," I say. "I hope you can actually play it, and if you can actually plug an amp in at this place and get it to work, you'll have a fan for life. Or at least the next five minutes."

Date: 2009-07-10 05:47 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hopalongmcgurk.livejournal.com
"I'd love to see your wand," I answer, leering back at him. "And to hear you really play, to see if you're as good as you say." I really am a dirty old broad, I think to myself. I reach out a hand to help him up. I'm not looking a gift horse in the mouth, and, hey, at least I don't have to polyjuice into Amaranth in order to get laid, even if my new partner doesn't exactly seem like the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree. The lack of polyjuice makes this an immediate win.

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Date: 2009-07-10 04:54 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] guy-from-mars.livejournal.com
Valentine Michael Smith had mostly recovered from his adventures with enchanted food products. (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1807808.html?thread=99768000#t99768000) But a few vestiges of his former 1980's surfer persona still lingered.

This was why, upon sight of Skwisgaar, he smiled happily, struck a pose, and showed off his best air guitar moves. "Dude," he greeted warmly. "You play your instrument brightly, brightly and with beauty!"

Date: 2009-07-10 05:38 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] guy-from-mars.livejournal.com
That was a very good question. Mike grokked marijuana, having experienced it once with Jubal. But it had no effect on him. Skwisgaar was, in fact, dealing with Mike completely sober.

"I am not intoxicated," he answered. "Except, perhaps, on life, which is a great goodness. I could, perhaps, ask the same of you. I do not grok why you are covered in grease and talk in such an odd manner, even for earthlings."

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Date: 2009-07-10 11:30 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] psy-nuisance.livejournal.com
((If godmodding is offensive, slap my wrist!))

"You got a little grease on you." The cross-eyed blonde girl stepped cautiously into the room. Unfortunately, she looked young, though she was much uglier than her icon.

She looked at Skwisgaar for a few moments and then almost choked. "You are a special snowflake, aren't you?" Arrogant bastard, but amusingly pervy. "I don't know whether to be sick or laugh."

Date: 2009-07-22 02:48 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] psy-nuisance.livejournal.com
Ack, I can't believe I missed this one for so long! apologies

"Not gonna be sick." She said "But you do realize that you love your bandmate, right?" Forget trying to be not-evil. This guy was too funny not to taunt. Of course, if he went after her, she'd go running to her brother for help.

"And the showers are that way." She pointed.

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