Regulation and Control

Who: Draco Malfoy and Dexter Cadwallader
What: Verbal clashing between two drama queens
When: March 1, 2008
Where: Outside the Office
Rating: PG-13, brief insinuations of bondage and stds
Status: Closed; complete

( Like the thought of me on a leash, don't you, Cadwallader? )

Who: Mila MacNair, Zacharias and Clare [NPC] Smith
What: Hopefully, some food will be consumed in the making of this RP. It's hard to know.
When: March 13, 2008
Where: Belgo Centraal on Earlham Street, where the waiters dress like monks and kids eat free.
Rating: TBD - just assume language like whoa anytime you see Zach's name. Sorry.
Status: Open; in progress

"It's like... a cafeteria," Clare said, her hand almost brushing his before she stepped further away. Her grey eyes lifted, examining the ceiling as if she was reading it. Zach liked that about the child - she was more serious than others he'd known, her expressions critical as if she was continually measuring the world around her. The dim lighting did, in fact, remind him of primary schools and their strange flourescence and glancing at this girl who, when her face was turned away, reminded him so much of his sister, Zach felt a strange pang of nostalgia for the world he'd hated at the time and clung to so fiercely now that it was gone.

The girl turned her head to him, then added, "I don't think I like it... it's too open." A strange thing, for a seven year-old girl to say.

( Are those MONKS? Christ. No wonder kids fucking eat free. )

Who: Finn McGill, Zacharias Smith and Claire Smith
What: Finn discovers Zach has a kidlet.
When: March 15, 2008, around noon.
Where: Zach's place
Rating: TBD - just assume language like whoa anytime you see Zach's name, especially if Finn's is with it. Heh.
Status: Closed; in progress


Finn had to love the Pope for being good enough to reschedule St. Patrick's day - and make it come early, at that. Sure, she wasn't Irish, but someone back in her mum's family had been, so she'd splurged on a pint of Guinness earlier in the day for their sake. And she'd have bought a case of beer of some kind, but Zach didn't drink, and she was dropping in on him, so she left off buying it.

She rolled up to Zach's place and turned off her motorcycle. She swung off of it and grabbed her rucksack before jogging to the door. Giving it a good solid knock, she called, "Oi, Zach! 'S Finn come ramblin' back again!" She laughed then shaking her head slightly. It would be good to see him again.

Who: Zach Smith, Clare, and Anthony Goldstein
What: Shopping for an early Mother's Day gift.
When: March 22, 2008
Where: Cellditch Gallery
Rating: R
Status: Open; in progress

Anthony pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head as exited the taxicab. It was raining which was typical. It always seemed to rain anytime he wanted to go anywhere. He watched the cab motor away as soon as he shut the door. He could have just apparated but was loathe to do so after his accident. The damn toe still ached despite the fact that it was no longer attached to his body.

A clap of thunder sounded in the distance as he opened the heavy door. The short walk from the cab to the door had left his sweatshirt and trainers soaked to the core. A quick survey of the small crowd told him he didn't know anyone. He knew who's work this was and hoped he'd at least make an appearance. He took a step forward and almost ran into a small child he hadn't noticed. An easy smile lit up Anthony's face as he squatted down to her level. He loved children. They were so simple and untainted. "Pardon me. I didn't see you there."

Who: Christopher Warrington, Zacharias Smith and a billion NPCs
What: An artist with a broken wand begins to unintentionally embed magic into his art, channeling the thoughts of those who have disappeared, expressed through whispers in the glass itself. Warrington finds one of these pieces and begins to investigate.
When: February - March, 2008. It takes place directly after this RP.
Where: Mainly wizarding and muggle London
Rating: R for language and violence
Status: Closed; complete
Notes: This is less a true RP than a series of collaborative drabbles. The story arc in this RP will continue later on and may arise in other RPs. Part 1 of 2 because IJ says this is too long to post in one post. Sorry, all.

"There's someone out there buying your art." Zach ignored the other man as he focused on the pool table in front of him. He knew that Colm was staring at him - it was hard to ignore but he managed it, keeping his eye on the colored ball ahead, its red exterior like a flag to a bull. With a slow, steady push, he slid the cue between his fingers, stroking it lightly, the shudder from the man behind just barely perceptible as the ball knocked against the side, then into the pocket.

"Besides you?" He snorted, glancing up at the Irishman. Walking around the table, he took another shot. "Don't know about you, Colm, but never fucking had a problem with people buying my art. The right people."

( For ten years the window's turquoise square has held my eyes in its simple frame. )