The Bear and Barnacle

Look. Somebody took pity on you, Miquel giggles. His naked foot slides through the parcel and the effect is eerie, but Cesare only looks at the shirt, nestled in rustling paper. So you don't have to butcher any more of your clothes.

Cesare fumes. Oh how he fumes. "I'll have you know I'd rather go naked then wear this," he hisses.

LAZIO.

THE IGNOMINY. LAZIO. This is so not happening.

Since the Graces hate him (he knows this for a fact; else they would have bothered to return him to his grown-up state by now; yes please?) the shirt does not come as a surprise. And yet.

Peering from behind the half opened door, he growls, "Grazie mille. Wrong squadra." Cazzi. This is a life-or-death choice. This is a serious, serious matter in Rome.

And besides, AS Roma just went up 4,25% at the stock exchange.

Expecting all his mail to be owl post, he nearly trips on the package left on the stoop. Only nearly, though, because he's not that rusty.

Once he's taken it inside, away from prying eyes, and determined that it's not going to blow up, or leak acids or horrible potions all over him, or grow jaws and bite his hands off, or shoot spikes, or lay on a curse, hex, or jinx, or make him a happy person (bleargh), or make him turn funny colors or grow extra body parts or take necessary ones away or do odd things to his voice or nails or IN ANY WAY make him sorrier than he expects to be, given that he has a panicky Quin with a Beetles shirt still calming down in his lab, that he's opening it (really, he thinks, there's got to be a shortcut), he cautiously opens the flat bundle (doing it all over again after removing the string and then the paper, because either of these could contain an antidetection spell or potion).

After a long, purse-lipped moment, he sighs, and sourly grouses, "Oh, very funny." As he checks it again for all of the above (hey, the tissue paper could also have been a concealment), he ponders the eternal conundrum: transfigure it into a lab coat, or use it as a night shirt? The thought of wearing it where anyone might actually see it, of course, never so much as crosses his mind.

Much.

Oddly enough, when Spike had paused the dvd he was watching and gone out the front door for a fag in the evening, he had found a package with his name on it.

"Well, now, who'd send me a pressie, I wonder?" he smirked, cigarette dangling from his lips as he opened the package. Inside was a t-shirt. Spike unfolded it, curious, and then his grin widened.

"Damn STRAIGHT."

Finishing and crushing his cigarette, he flung the shirt over his arm and returned inside to resume his movie. Placing the t-shirt beside him, he sat and pushed play, talking to the screen. "You, Edward Cullen, sully the name of vampire. You pansy."

As the Joker stepped out of his flat, he tripped over something. A box. He looked around, half expecting to see a squirrel or something. He poked the box with a toe. It did not attack him back. Yes, he expected it to, with good reason.

"Hmmm, well, curiosity killed the cat...good thing I'm not feline!" He grabbed the box and went back inside, tearing it open.

When he saw the t-shirt inside, he clapped his hands. "Perfect! It even matches the STEAMROLLER!"




He quickly changed shirts, and then continued on his way out the door.

Q stepped out onto his front stoop and almost trod on the small package lying there. He eyed it, surprised. He automatically grabbed for his wand and looked around suspiciously. No one should have been able to get to his house without the wards sounding, let alone leave something. He didn’t see anyone and he knelt to inspect the parcel. It was small, wrapped in brown paper, and had his name in flowing script written on it. No address, so it wasn’t the regular post. Q prodded the thing with a finger. The paper crackled. Frowning, he ran his wand over it, checking for any hexes. Nothing. Gingerly, he picked it up. It was very light. He shook it gently. It made no noise. Recalling every spy movie he’d ever seen, he wondered if it might be a bomb. He discarded the idea immediately. It was much too flimsy for that and no one would be sending him a bomb. Still puzzled, he carried the package inside and set it on the table. It felt like there was something made of cloth inside. He debated whether or not he should do more sophisticated tests on the thing. Obviously it was meant to be a surprise of some sort, but who could have sent it and why? It was months away from his birthday and the only person who might give him anything certainly wouldn’t resort to anything like this. Oh well, only one way to find out. Holding his wand in one hand just in case, Q tore open the parcel with the other. It was a t-shirt. A blue one. “What on earth…” He muttered to himself. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong with it, so he picked up the shirt, unfolding it. His face lit up when he saw what was written on it. ( Read more... )

Aside from the shop, and his concerns as landlord of that building (plus several others he has now added to his expanding real-estate mini-empire within Margate), he does have a purpose. He will do his best to make this world a better place for, and to provide for, his children. Or possible children. Draco, of course, whichever version he may have a chance to affect. And this child of Victoire’s, the child that could be his. He’s been thinking about children rather a lot of late.
( Open here )

Outside the front door of each Margate inhabitant lies a box, neatly addressed with their name. For those who cohabitate, there is a box for each resident. The boxes are flat and light and have no magical or mechanical traits.

For those who open their boxes, they will find inside a t-shirt. One in their size and somehow very, very appropriate. Some t-shirts will have pictures. Others will have text. All will be perfectly suited to the individual.

Show us your t-shirt.


As always respond as you like. Your character can just start wearing the shirt or be shown opening it. Or if you want to simply post an image of what they received, that is great too. The shirt could be ideal, ironic, or insulting, whatever- (cause I'm sure if we had one, Lestat would love to receive a Team Edward shirt... :D ). Have fun!

The tag for this month is t-shirts.