The socially asocial ((Open RP, L, Halls))

[pre-l.livejournal.com]

L is not a social person. He prefers the company of his computers and cases and very few people. Yet, here he is, limited on the number of cases he can work lest his counterpart in this world discover his interference.

This is not to say he is unhappy. He is very happy with Matt and Koopa, getting more used to the dog as the dog begins being less 'puppy' and more dog.

But, there are times that he becomes restless. It may be a lack of mental occupation. It may be he is still unused to being content with anything or anyone.

It may be the sugar in his diet.

Regardless of what it is, he is wandering the halls, looking out over the courtyards, pacing, his hands in his pockets, slouched as he walks, looking for all the world like a vagabond in a long sleeved teeshirt, loose, well-washed jeans and shoes that were all but falling apart.

Christmas Amn't Brutals. [Closed RP: Skwisgaar, Toki, Shoggies]

[best-guitarist.livejournal.com]

The most obvious effects of the hexed Thanksgiving food had worn off sometime ago, returning Skwisgaar to his normal adult self, but he could still clearly remember everything that had happened when he'd magically reverted to a child. Including how he'd felt -- his less than happy childhood memories were, subsequently, much closer to the surface than they'd been previously, no longer dulled by the years. The lingering unpleasantness of the experience left him withdrawn and subdued, which predictably led to even more time devoted to his guitar, honing skills that were already almost preternaturally perfect. Playing had been his only solace as a child, so it was perhaps fitting.

( Read more... )

The Mighty Blue Avenger! ((application, open rp))

[tick-justice.livejournal.com]

“SPOOON!”

The cry was followed by a deafening crash as a gigantic man in blue plowed headfirst into the solid flagstones of the Sorting Room, hard enough to leave sizeable cracks.

Yes, the Tick, Guardian of The City, the Mighty Blue Avenger, has come to Hogwarts. And landed on his head.

Woozily he sat up, clapping a hand to his forehead. “Ugh, gravity is a harsh mistress.”

He looked up, hearing a weird scratchy sound. The Tick stood and walked over to the podium that held the application as well as the impatiently hovering dictaquill.

“A test, eh?” he muttered. He started when the dictaquill wrote his answer. “Oh keen!”

( Like you were expecting something deep )