open rp post

[emiri]

fast and loose role-play

free and easy love, that's how it's s'posed to be!

want to thread with one of mine but aren't in the same game? want me to do something with one of yours in bakerstreet? can't find a good recent bakerstreet meme but want to thread anyway? want to explore au scenarios together? annoyed that i dropped that character you really wanted a thread with?

well drop me a comment here with whatever scenario (or link to a meme) you want, specify the character you want, and we can thread the merry day away!

any active or retired character from the muse list with two stars or more is fair game!

homeless characters are slightly different in that most of them don't have journals or icons set up, so you may have to give me a day or so to do that. and in some cases, a couple more days to canon review if i haven't in a while.

Comments

[rathercommon]

[ It's such a strange thing, seeing him as a person. She thinks back to her vague memories of the first time she'd met him, some pathetic little kid in an alleyway, someone that Fred (Stanley? it's been so long now) was going to kill. Back in those days, that was the sort of thing they'd do, just to prove to each other and to themselves that they were tough enough for the Resistance. It's easier to reconcile that kid to this stumbling, awkward boy than it is to Mr Mandrake, Minister.

When she'd saved his life from the Golem, for a while afterwards, she'd actually sort of let herself think that maybe what she'd done for him would inspire him in some way. That's the way it always worked out in the penny dreadful novels - that the hero saves the life of his worst enemy, and that helps him see the light and change his ways. It's, what? Three years later, now? And she'd long ago abandoned those ideas as something stupid, something from rotten and contrived books. But here he is. A person, with some kernel of decency in him. A little flushed, awkward, with a bruised nose, offering help to her cause.

She plays it cool, of course. Gives a shrug. ]

If you're on my side, we're going to be on better terms. Anyone who's working to help the people is a friend of mine - or near enough.

[ For just a moment, though, her face does become stern. She levels a finger at him. ]

Though make no mistake. If you double-cross me, or if you're shaping up to be like the rest of them, I won't hold back. I told you I'm not afraid of bloodshed, and that extends to your blood if I find out I was wrong about trusting you.

[ Did that sound tough, or did it sound insane and barbaric? Sometimes it's a little bit hard for her to tell. ]

[doneproperly]

[He's heard worse before breakfast. Threats? Must be Tuesday.]

There's no need to be so melodramatic. You're starting to sound like Bartimaeus.

[rathercommon]

[ By the quirk of her eyebrow, she doesn't consider that an insult in the least. And, by the quirk of her lip, she does take a little bit of pleasure in the thought of Bartimaeus hurling threats at Mandrake. Friend of mine or no, she does enjoy the thought of the demon getting something back at the man who enslaved him. ]

Well, you should remember that pentacles and words of binding can't stop me. My melodrama is something you've got to take seriously.

[ She does realize, maybe a moment too late, that perhaps explicitly identifying magicians' methods of control revealed a bit too much of her knowledge. Doesn't matter, though, and he might not notice. ]

[doneproperly]

Oh? And what do you know of pentacles and words of binding?

[His tone is amused more than anything else.]

[rathercommon]

[ Or if he does notice, it might be grounds for condescension rather than anything of any actual peril. Any regret over being too chatty immediately vanishes, because it allows her to say this, eyebrows lifted with threatening implication: ]

Your well-kept secrets haven't been so well-kept lately. We commoners are learning a lot more about what your lot does.

[ It's always a nice thing if you can get a magician sweating. (And mentally she dedicates the effort as a tribute to Bartimaeus, even though she's still completely furious at him for his refusal to help.) ]

A little bit of a preview of just how hard the magicians will fall. And sooner rather than later.

[doneproperly]

[He doesn't seem terribly fazed.]

Well then, I hope that you're all prepared for years of book learning and hard work, else you'll soon be facing a rather sharp population decline at your own hands.

[rathercommon]

[ ...Disappointing. She looks a bit petulant. ]

Hardly. We don't need magicians. [ And before he can protest - ] And don't give me that Real War Stories rot about magicians defending our borders; it's human blood, not Essence, that really gets spilled to keep us safe.