Glory unpops ((BtVS))

[mad-glory.livejournal.com]

The popcorn shifted, a bit more violently than usual, and a tallish, attractive blonde woman in a bright red dress appeared in the room, thoroughly doused with butter.

"Ew," she said, nose wrinkling as she surveyed herself and the room. "What's with the retro pantry motif? What the Hell's Gentle Ben been getting into this time?" She paused, considering the butter. "Gotta admit, I didn't think he had it in him to be this kinky. Go Benny." She sighed and raised her voice slightly. "All right, you scabby little maggots, where are you hiding now? Jinx! Murk! Dreg even! Front and center!"

Receiving no answer, she scowled, pacing in a small circle. "That's the problem with sycophantic minion hordes these days," she said out loud to herself, aggrieved. "You try for a little me-time and they're all over you like scabies, but the minute you actually need a round of good ol'-fashioned craven fawning, the li'l cockroaches up and disappear on you." She flailed her hands momentarily in agitation. "So not fair! I paid good money for that motivational flaying program! Argh! Well, fine..."

Grumbling, she stripped out of the buttered dress, revealing a second, completely clean one underneath, and shook the butter out of her hair with an impatient gesture, flinging the soiled garment carelessly over the nearest wall sconce. "Hello! Goddess in the house! What's a deity gotta do to get a snack around here?"

She stepped up to the doorway, planting her hands on her shapely hips and peering around the hallway with a businesslike air. "Somebody in this joint's gotta have a brain worth eating..."

Scheming and Socializing at Ravenclaw Bar ((SPN crew, and see note))

[nerdofthelord.livejournal.com]

((This one's open to pretty much anyone, but Yukimura and Lee are particularly invited to come around before or after Bobby and the boys show up.))

---

Castiel had finally gotten around to investigating the bar in Ravenclaw tower, and found the place to his liking. He could sit quietly and watch people come and go if he wanted to, socialize if he liked (which he hadn't yet ventured to do, but he was working up to it,) and he could drink as much as he wanted of whatever he liked.

He'd been trying not to abuse the privilege. Getting roaring drunk, he'd been assured, did little to improve his disposition. Though Dean had made some puzzling allusions to marijuana that frankly stumped him, as he hadn't tried the stuff. Yet.

This afternoon, though, he was here for a purpose, waiting for Bobby to arrive so that they could set in motion their plan to exact retribution upon the Winchester boys for the events their prank war had set in motion the night of the Yule party.

Practical jokes were still unfamiliar territory to the angel. But he was cautiously optimistic that the plan was both appropriate and effective; Bobby had devised the spells, and he had thought of the delivery system.

Whether it would be funny, on the other hand...well, that he really wasn't qualified to judge. He was fairly sure, though, that Dean and Sam would not be laughing.