Sock + WART: Something Wicked This Way Comes (like a Mountie)

[themountie.livejournal.com]

After having been bitten by Agent Cooper, Fraser was feeling surprisingly good bad...

---

Son? What on earth are you up to? Bob asked as his son slid into the DJ's seat.

"Kindly shut up, Dad," Fraser replied, twisting a few knobs. "Just watch. Or listen, if you prefer." Bob, too startled (and curious) to argue, took a seat next to him.

Fraser looked over the equipment, eyed the request list -- which was ironically appropriate -- and pulled out his wand. He pointed it at the microphone and said a few words; the mic glittered dangerously, then went normal again.

Perfect.

He smiled to himself and turned the mic on.

( Broadcast of eeeeeeevil! )

( Broadcast of eeeeeeevil!, part 2! )

((So the Halloween plot is now launched! IF your character just listened to that broadcast, they are now temporarily evil. If your character is evil and listened to the broadcast, they are now temporarily good! Enjoy. :D Obviously the no-kill and OOC permission rules are still in effect, but beyond that, go wild!))

Open RP: When good Jedi go bad

[blue-ataru.livejournal.com]

Aayla had been puttering around Gryffindor, half-listening to WART as she practiced casting the Patronus charm. At the end of the broadcast, she stared blankly ahead of her and her hawk-bat patronus popped out of existence. In those seconds, thirteen years of experience and memory were brushed aside. She was once again the Aayla who sought revenge on Quinlan Vos for the loss of her uncle, and who served the Dark Jedi Volfe Karkko. Except that she knew that Vos wasn't here and was now also responsible for Karkko's death.

If Vos wasn't here, than what was she to do? The answer came quickly: find others like her and take control of this school, and destroy those who got in their way. And then it was a simple matter of eliminating her competition until she was in complete power. It wasn't revenge, but it would do. She left her wand where it fell and headed towards the main corridors of Hogwarts. She didn't need magic tricks. They were no match for the Dark Side of the Force. She smiled. Her teeth were sharper than normal. Between that and the whites of her sclera turning dark, she looked like a predator. This was going to be fun.

Open RP: Evil Missions and the Great Pie Hunt

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

Susan and Shaun had been cobbling together a guidebook to Hogwarts when the WART broadcasted. The idea was to put together something that would help ease Liz’s transition, whenever she arrived; both of them knew that Liz was definitely not the sort of person who would take some of the weird shit here easily.

“Well, theme music,” Shaun said, looking up. Composition was not his strong point--like many people who are erudite enough in speech, he had a hard time when it came to setting it down on paper, and the carpet around his chair was littered with discarded balls of crumpled parchment. “That’s a bit of all right.”

Susan, who didn’t recognize a single song, nevertheless nodded. “I still don’t fully understand this ‘Halloween’ thing,” she said. Though she’d been at Hogwarts last Halloween, she couldn’t remember it now, and thus the point and significance of the holiday were lost on her. Shaun had tried to explain it, but why something that was more or less the Day of the Dead should inspire people to dress up and get drunk, she didn’t know. Then again, in her experience quite a lot of people would use almost anything as an excuse to dress up and get drunk, so…

Shaun didn’t get a chance to try to explain again. Something odd was going on in his head--something he’d never really felt before, or at least not in this magnitude. The adrenaline-fueled desperation he’d experienced when they’d been besieged in the Winchester slammed back full-force, but this time the fear had been replaced with…something else. Memory of him threatening to gut David with a broken bottle if the man came any nearer his dying mum overtook him--the sheer rage he’d felt in that moment, only now it was amplified tenfold. Shaun was not a violent man--at least, not if you weren’t a zombie--but something in him suddenly wanted to be.

He looked at Susan, who had gone very still herself. A change seemed to ripple over her features--her already pale skin whitened to near transparency, her hair coiling down into something limp and passive, and when she looked up at him her eyes would have scared the life out of him, if he hadn’t been so changed already himself.

They were black--solid black, unbroken save for a tiny, remote pinprick of arctic blue at the center. She smiled, and her teeth seemed…sharper, somehow; sharper, and a good deal more sinister than any smile Shaun had ever seen on her.

They looked at one another. Both suddenly had an inexplicable urge to go do something very unpleasant to someone else, but the two of them were allies--there was an unspoken understanding that they’d do nothing awful to one another.

…LET’S PLAY, Susan said, and the Voice had taken on strange harmonics it had never before held--there was a note of malevolence beneath it, a gleeful, vicious sort of malice that promised all sorts of unpleasant things. She paused. AND THEN LET’S GET PIE.

Shaun picked up his bat, flipping it from hand to hand. He returned her rather disturbing smile. “Play, then pie,” he said. “Gotcha. Shall we?”

They didn’t even bother to use the door--Susan just grabbed his hand as she went straight through the wall, taking him along with her. Neither one knew where they were going, or what they would do when they got there, but both were in silent agreement as to the type and amount of damage they wanted to do along the way. Odd thoughts of dominance were firing through Susan’s brain--the need to overpower, to crush, to overwhelm. Shaun, whose mindset was echoing that, was more than willing to help--they’d get rid of any and all zombies once and for all, intelligent or not.

And then there would be pie. Because dude, every evil would-be villain needs pie, dammit.

((NWS warning: Stephen and Susan's thread eventually devolves into attempted murder, and thence into smut. Yeah, we don't really know, either :P))

A flock of owls, post-dated to after the evil

[h-m-winter.livejournal.com]

( To Francis Abernathy )

( To Richard Papen )

( To Charles Macaulay )

( To John Ryder )

( To Stephen Maturin )

( To Chance Silvey )

( To Professor Jadzia Dax )

Homestar? Evil? That's bupkes!

[spinmybuzzer.livejournal.com]

Halloween again! Twice in the same year, even! That was like a dream come true. And the best part was, they didn't have to chase down Halloween night or get nagged by Marzipan or listen to Strong Sad tell a really sad story or anything.

Well, there was the Horrible Painting in Strong Mad's closet to deal with but he didn't count.

Yep, it was the best Halloween ever, and in celebration, Homestar decided to listen to the radio. Because that wasn't overly contrived at all. Oh no. Funny thing about evil, mind-changing broadcasts, though: Homestar was totally immune. Completely. And totally. And just to prove how completely and totally immune he was to turning evil, he was going stand in the hall. Completely innocuous. Nothing happening here at all. Totally not-evil Homestar, standing not-suspiciously at all and whistling not-innocently.

I mean innocently. Totally innocent. He wasn't waiting for someone to come by so he could trip them. Why would you think that? What kind of a terrible person are you?

((And yes, Homestar will be tripping anyone who walks by.))

Not such an awkward next meeting; closed rp

[twoyearsmissing.livejournal.com]

There was no nagging little voice at the back of his head that was usually there, telling him what he should be doing right then, it was like that voice was the one in control again. Which wasn't right. No-one there really knew what he was like from before.

So there was no-one stopping him from heading off to find Inara again. He didn't care that they had left it slightly awkward when they'd woken up the next morning. But that then didn't seem to matter then, this was a slightly more devious Jack Harkness, used to a different world where getting by was by any means possible. The wolfish smile he gave as he headed into Slytherin was a little more off than usual but still him.