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[Jun. 26th, 2008|12:21 am] |
Who: Skwisgaar the Elder and Roadie 359
What: Sword Lessons
Where: Mini-Mordhaus
When: Late Night.
Warnings: Swearing, brutality, high possibility of flirting on the guitarist's part.
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[Jun. 26th, 2008|10:28 am] |
Who: Skwisgaar the Elder and Zillah.
What: Zillah's last blowout before he has to be a good boy.
When: Today.
Where: Zillah's house (which is next door to his funeral home) in London.
Warnings: Oh, yes. Sex, possible violence.
( I wish I could be like you, easily amused. ) |
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[Jun. 26th, 2008|07:49 pm] |
Who: Aziraphale and Crowley
What: Reuniting Zira with his books
Where: A series of book rooms at Oxford
When: Tonight
Warnings: So an angel and a demon poofed into a book room...yeah. NWS, kids.
There was really no need to stand so close to the demon, and yet Aziraphale stood as close to Crowley as he could. He simply wanted to be near him, to take in the sight and the smell of him. Besides, he'd always rather loathed the swirling motion of transporting across time and space, especially going across the great sea. He emerged on the other side, landing as always on his feet, but feeling slightly off balance, as if the ground were moving beneath his feet. It was, he knew, the law of physics, a body in motion stayed in motion. Well, it was as good an excuse as any to stumble a step, directly into the demon's arms.
"Oh dear me," he muttered, seeming apologetic when the move was well rehearsed and very calculated. "Pardon me, my dear. I must've lost my footing." |
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[Jun. 26th, 2008|11:13 pm] |
Who: Hennriette Stillman and whoever comes by (open post folks!)
Where: The Snake Pit, New Orleans
When: Thursday night, Friday night, both, whatever, before the Wedding Weekend
It was a normal enough night at the Snake Pit, couples and small groups scattered throughout, Rita the Python was on the shelf above the bartop, as always, the dancers had just begun weaving through the crowd.
Henn was in her natural habitat behind the bar, hair pulled up into a severe ponytail, a streak of red down the middle of her bangs. She was leaning forward, forearms resting on the bar, for anyone tall enough the position provided view of the edge of a tattoo across the small of her back. For the less-height-endowed there was a lot of cleavage to look at, as well as a tattoo of an anatomical heart with flaming wings on her chest. |
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