He enters the room and stops, turning to look behind himself as if perhaps that would re-orient him, or explain how he got here. The disparity in location does not greatly bother him, but he looks around at his surroundings with interest, a playful (he would say Dionysiac) glint in his eyes ( Read more... )

Because I fail at everything these days, here's a James Potter, currently in stag-form and frolicking in the forest. You've never seen a stag look so... intelligent? Somehow I doubt that's the word, mischievous, perhaps.

Whatever it is, he's having a grand ol' time, and would love a) friends to join him, or failing that, b) people to mess with.

( Read more... )

*Somewhere, in a main room, a note is tacked on a wall or board, all in large, neat script. It reads:*

Dear Friends ( Read more... )

"What defines you?"

Her arrival was likely not a noticed one. What matters is that somehow, she's here, dazed and serene in her vintage wedding dress with the shorn hem, her wrists adorned with clunky, colorful bracelets bound with masking tape. Her lips are painted a garish red, yet she couldn't be more than thirteen years old ( Read more... )