fandomtownies | Come As You Were Dance, Community Center, Saturday Evening

Entry tags:

Come As You Were Dance, Community Center, Saturday Evening

Originally, this was going to be a much smaller event, but then Fandom had to be Fandom and Portalocity had to be Portalocity, and now Zoe was wondering if there would be enough food for everyone or if she'd have to get things from the local restaurants.

For the moment though, everything was set up nicely. There were tables and chairs set up with blue and gold tablecloths, each covered with glitter from years of use. There were balloons, streamers, and other slightly tasteful decorations, also covered in glitter from years of being stored with things that were also covered in glitter. Don't worry, no one had died from a glitter overdose yet.

Once the food was set out and the (non-tainted) punch was ready, it seemed like things were as good to go as they'd ever be. If things got too crowded, hopefully a fire marshal wasn't among the folks who had come back to town.

[We appear to have broken the post, huzzah! Please use these links to get around: Arrive/Mingle | Food/Drink | Dancing | Shadowy Corner | Corner of 2005 | OOC]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Bob was an AWESOME bound spirit, thank you very much, Other Bob.

"Bound to the skull. I am a spirit of intellect." And a spirit of being a total perv but that was implied, right? "The one who holds the skull gets to name the spirit. A lot of them never bothered."

Harry, meanwhile, had moved on to scowling.

Bob snorted. "Tell me about it. Half the time I was just 'servant' or 'slave', and I've got a name!" He sighed. "I would love to see your bindings. Show you mine if you show me yours?" Because some things didn't change. "As long as we can get Harry to cooperate."

"Why Mister Hrothbert," Bob said in a ridiculous approximation of a southern woman's accent. "What a suggestion. We've just met." If only he'd had eyelashes he would have batted them.

Harry's scowl vanished when his eyebrows raised. "Did you just proposition my skull?"

"Certainly not!" Bob acted affronted. "I propositioned Bob's skull." He sniffed disdainfully, then gave Harry a hopeful (and as reliable as he could manage) look. "Don't suppose you'd want to pop him up to my office while you're down here, would you? He'll be perfectly safe. Won't even touch him, promise."

"Honestly, Dresden. I am my OWN skull. Well, I have my own skull. You know what I mean. And proposition seems such an ugly term."

Harry was getting a headache. This was almost like...

"Hell's Bells," he whispered, looking from the skull to the other man and back to the skull. "Are you him? Another him? With a body? This is something out of a really bad dream."
That wasn't entirely fair. His nightmares were usually much worse than this.

Bob smirked. "Well, it took you long enough. Honestly, Harry." And then, because he really was a terrible troll, he stuck out his hand. "Hrothbert of Bainbridge, at...well, Harry Dresden's service. Bob to my friends."

"He doesn't have a body!" Harry protested. "How was I supposed to put that together?"

Well, the way they both decided to torment him was probably a big clue but he wasn't going to dwell on that.

He shook his head and reached out for the offered hand. Then reached again when he apparently missed. Then resumed his earlier scowling.

"Oh, real cute Hrothbert. Seriously, Hrothbert?"

"It was a perfectly normal name in the tenth century, Harry," Bob said pointedly. He shrugged. "Unlike your Bob here, I have my own name. I'm not a spirit of anything but myself."

"Harry's a perfectly normal name now," Harry countered. His middle names were decidedly less normal. But that wasn't important at the moment.

"And Bob has his own name. Bob. He didn't any until I gave him one." Justin had never bothered with a name for the spirit. Justin had been a dick in a lot of ways. "And he's mostly a spirit of himself anyway. His self is just a lot of intellect."

"Harry," the skull piped up. "Are you trying to defend my honor or something?"

"Shut up."

"That's actually rather sweet," Bob cooed. "And really, the intellect goes without saying, I should think." As did the fact that Justin was a dick, in any world. "But that wasn't what I meant. I'm not another form of being, I'm a human ghost."

"Well, that's different," Harry said. "And explains the body thing. Or lack of body thing. Explains why you look like a guy and not just some pretty orange lights."

"Aww, you think I'm pretty?"

"Quiet, Bob."

"I can be pretty, too!" Bob said. No, he wasn't pouting. At all. "I'm told my skull is quite lovely."

"Ooh, I wanna see your skull," Bob told Bob. "Harry can we go see his skull? Pretty please?"

Once upon a time, Harry Dresden had thought being a wizard was going to be a great life choice. Once.

"It's back in Chicago with my Harry, I'm afraid," Bob said. "But I can show you what it looks like!" Illusions might be all he had most of the time, but he was very good at them. With a bit of concentration, he drew out a bit of golden light that quickly formed into an image of his skull, every ding, dent, and rune on it.

There were, after all, few things Bob knew better.

"A few of these seem to be the same, but the variations on the base spell must be really interesting..." He held his skull down close to the other Bob's, peering between them curiously.

"How'd you get so far from the skull?" Harry asked. He was reasonably certain his Bob couldn't go that far. But he wasn't about to test this theory.

"Some of it definitely looks familiar. Okay, Bob, my Bob, you may come out to inspect this lovely illusion of a skull and you will go back as soon as you've done so, no detours or side-trips."

"Sure thing, Boss!" Bob was slightly disappointed that the wording wasn't going to allow a few trips around the room to eye all the lovely ladies but checking out another version of his skull wasn't a bad trade-off.

To Harry, Bob shrugged. "Fandom."

To Bob (though clearly directed at Harry), he muttered, "Spoilsport."

Harry nodded sagely. "Fandom explains a lot. But surrendering a while here makes Chicago seem almost normal, which is a bonus. Sort of."

Bob, meanwhile, was swirling around both skulls in a mass of sparkly orange lights. "He is a spoilsport," the lights agreed. "But at least he's learning. Just very slowly."

"Well, it is Harry we're talking about." He was a dear friend. He was not always quick on the uptake.

Bob traced the runes on the solid skull, one finger dipping just inside the surface to feel the spell. "Oo, that is interesting. You know," he said, beaming at the other Bob, "I don't think we've got anything quite like you in my world. Certainly no spirits like you nearly as intelligent."

"That tickles! I am unique and awesome," Bob agreed, beaming right back. It was easy to beam when you were a collection of twinkly lights at the moment. "What Harry ever did to deserve me is beyond me." "Yeah I don't know what I did to deserve you either," Harry said dryly. Bob ignored him. "And I've never seen any ghosts quite like you. Here I thought I was the only guy locked in a skull."

"So did I! I mean really, after a millennium or so, you start to think you've at least seen most of it, and I've never met another. Oo, how old are you? Have you gotten around much?" Bob asked. "I've had the most dreadfully boring owners for the most part; never let me have any fun."

"Oooooold," Bob said. "And boring is not the word I'd use for some of them. Or for Harry. Usually. Except on Saturday nights when he's sitting at home. I've been around. Gone through a lot of owners. Mostly terrible people." Well, that was putting it mildly. "Harry's not so bad though. Once in a while he's even fun."

"He's also standing right here, Bob."

"Yes, well, most of mine weren't a stroll through the park, either," Bob admitted with a grimace. "Doesn't make them any less dull in their personal lives. Did you have that perfectly awful...what was he, a Marquis or something? With the hair."

That made perfect sense, right?

"No Marquis. There was a Baron Something-Or-Other." Bob remembered the name. He just didn't want to say it. "Who also had very unfortunate hair to match his unfortunate personality. Harry, I'm glad your hair is boring."

"Different versions of the same man," Bob hypothesized. "Dear lord, I hope so; otherwise, there'd be two of him." He shuddered theatrically. "Yes, Harry; please keep boring hair. And...whatever you call that lack of fashion."

"Bad enough we've got one of so many of them," Bob agreed.

"Hey," Harry protested. "I look fine!" He just looked unkempt. And like his clothes were a bit worse for wear. And came from a thrift store.

Come As You Were Dance, Community Center, Saturday Evening

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]

Re: Arrive/Mingle [Anniv.]