Re: Strippers Arrival and Set Updark_ex_watcherDecember 24 2006, 14:47:29 UTC
A rather unsettled Wesley Wyndham-Pryce slips into the room and hugs the wall on his way over to Laini. At the moment, a charming weekend in Quor-Toth (or just about any hell dimension, really) has more appeal than what he suspects will be happening next.
But he gave his word. And it's all for a good cause, yes? Yes?
Yuppie Arrivalfoxy_l33tDecember 24 2006, 06:20:03 UTC
Tony Robbins is fashionably late, of course. However, one simply cannot pass up the chance for a free Blackberry programming upgrade- an upgrade that will not be available to the rest of the public for months.
Mr Jack Frost is there, impecably dressed, to meet and greet the arrivals.
So! There is evian ready, french presses of exotic coffee blends, and dainty puff pasteries filled with brie and carmelized onions. The chairs set up are quite comfortable-
(Specially, since when the music starts? The yuppies are not going to be able to get up from them. Bwah.)
Re: Speaking of Music-pirate_jackDecember 30 2006, 16:37:07 UTC
When in doubt--
--and trapped by some sort of oddly adhesive chair surface--
--stall. Verbally. At length.
"Now, miss, think about the impression that you're making in such a very public place, won't you? I'm sure that you don't really want to do such irreparable damage to your reputation..."
He swallows, hard. An oddly bright gleam flickers in the black eyes.
"...a lovely lass-- er, young woman -- like yourself."
Aftereffectswyrd_foxDecember 29 2006, 02:37:16 UTC
After the spell breaks, Foxtrot is still stuck in his chair.
He's too embarrassed to put on one of his usual faces, but he can't stand the GQ look anymore. So he puts on a form he only created recently for dealing with Ray's sister.
He's also still pounding his head against the table next to him.
And he shows no signs of stopping.
Maybe someone should intervene before he does himself serious damage.
Re: Aftereffects_to_the_boneDecember 29 2006, 03:50:19 UTC
"I remember."
He frowns, distastefully. Deciding it's safe, he pulls his hands off the table and settles onto it, so he can sit as well, and pull off his suit jacket, because it feels like a cage to be dressed like this.
"Fortunately yuppies are sort of gullible. What is important is that you didn't."
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There is also a bottle of absinthe, and a couple of red wine, making the rounds, discreetly.
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It walks like Moiraine. It is dressed like Moiraine. It has brown hair like Moiraine.
But is it, in fact, Moiraine?
Puck tugs at his blue cloak, adjusting his wig surreptitiously.
No offense to goths, but this costume will always be nearest and dearest to his heart.
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But he gave his word. And it's all for a good cause, yes? Yes?
Oh god...
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Mr Jack Frost is there, impecably dressed, to meet and greet the arrivals.
So! There is evian ready, french presses of exotic coffee blends, and dainty puff pasteries filled with brie and carmelized onions. The chairs set up are quite comfortable-
(Specially, since when the music starts? The yuppies are not going to be able to get up from them. Bwah.)
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They are not so much made of sugar, or cake, but he is hungry.
They will do.
Possibly the yuppies will mistake him for a well-intentioned but disconcerting table decoration.
Possibly.
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He really doesn't care.
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--even if there is something a bit unusual about the device.
Jack looks around, then tucks it in the inner breast pocket of his Armani suit and heads for the coffee.
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Time to take your seats, ladies and gentlemen! Hope you picked good ones, because you will not be moving from them anytime soon.
... Since when did Tony Robbins arrive to the opening squeal of "Feurio", by Einsturzende Neubauten?
The lights flash, the music beats, and the illusion drops, revealing the strippers on stage...
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Not to mention startling, and perhaps even a little bit alarming.
Jack starts to move from the chair, planning to make a judciously hasty exit -- only to find that he can't go anywhere.
"Bugger."
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Moiraine would be sad.
... Well. Maybe she would be. Puck wouldn't presume to speak for her.
Apparently, all he presumes is to undress to music while resembling her.
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--and trapped by some sort of oddly adhesive chair surface--
--stall. Verbally. At length.
"Now, miss, think about the impression that you're making in such a very public place, won't you? I'm sure that you don't really want to do such irreparable damage to your reputation..."
He swallows, hard. An oddly bright gleam flickers in the black eyes.
"...a lovely lass-- er, young woman -- like yourself."
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He's too embarrassed to put on one of his usual faces, but he can't stand the GQ look anymore. So he puts on a form he only created recently for dealing with Ray's sister.
He's also still pounding his head against the table next to him.
And he shows no signs of stopping.
Maybe someone should intervene before he does himself serious damage.
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"You'll addle yourself again and spoil all the work."
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He looks up at Jack, eyes bleak with horror. "I was going to cut off my tails!"
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He frowns, distastefully. Deciding it's safe, he pulls his hands off the table and settles onto it, so he can sit as well, and pull off his suit jacket, because it feels like a cage to be dressed like this.
"Fortunately yuppies are sort of gullible. What is important is that you didn't."
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