[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
Jack had traded the radio station away for a bottle of rum and was now aboard someone else's his ship because finders keepers, staring off into the sunset.

"Hoist the mainsail!" he barked to his crew of three furry squirrels, who promptly ignored him. "Haul anchor!" He smiled softly. "Bring me that horizon."

Five minutes later, when he realized he wasn't moving from the docks, he did the hauling and hoisting himself and set off for seas unexplored.

[OOC: And that's it for the pirate. Aww. Bye, Jack!]
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me," Jack sang under his breath as he wandered aimlessly through the station.

That song wasn't playing right now, but that had never really stopped Jack from singing before. He stopped at the small desk where the squirrels dropped notes off and began replenishing the rum bottles with a new (if slightly watered-down) stock of booze.

At no point did Jack find any of these activities strange. It probably meant he'd been here too long.

[OOC: Expecting one, but open!]
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
There was no DJ tonight. When Jack asked, Tiny rolled his eyes and pointed toward the causeway.

"He lived on the other side?" Jack replied, wincing. "Tough break."

That sort of explained the sign he had up on the bar:

COME RAISE A GLASS TO OLD WHAT'S-HIS-FACE.

At least he'd spelled all of the words right?
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
Jack 's mun had had the longest Monday ever was running a little late and Tiny wasn't the slightest bit inclined to cover for him.

"Fine," Jack sulked. "If I get eaten by the boss over there, you'll have t' do twice the work."

Since Tiny was under the impression that he was already doing twice the work on days Jack was behind the bar, this wasn't the most compelling argument to him.

The Devil's Nest was open!

[OOC: And OCD free!]
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
Jack, despite running the radio station, only had the very vaguest of notions that something might be amiss.

He was far more concerned with Thanksgiving and who he could weasel free food out of that day.

Tiny was very carefully not making eye contact.
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
Jack remembered what day it was this week!

Shhh, sometimes he was just as drunk as he appeared and this could be a big deal.

He traisped into the club and was surprised to see how happy Tiny was to see him.

"Of course I'm an adult, matey," he said, looking confused. "Why?"

Tiny refused to answer.

The Devil's Nest was open, and confused.
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
So...turned out that when Jack turned the clock back, he'd also turned the clock off.

At least he thought he was on time to work?

He also thought it was Monday, so Jack was perhaps not the most reliable narrator.

The Devil's Nest was open. And confused.
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
Jack had noticed a lot of activity over at the hotel and discovered there was a birthday party happening. His solution: a big sign out by the front of the club:

The Devil's Nest: We Don't Care That You Were Born!

In retrospect, that was probably not the best sign ever.
charming_thief: (Default)
[personal profile] charming_thief
Welcome, one and all, to the Fandom High Homecoming Carnival! Here you'd find red and white decorations abound, including just about everything maple-leaf emblazoned imaginable, an assortment of moose-related things (including a crossing sign), and an assortment of delicious foods.
 
Rides, games and activities were set up all over the park, and an enormous set of speakers was playing a Canadian Greatest Hits playlist that seemed to be disproportionately Bieber-centric.
 
All the joy of Canada was brought to you by your friendly neighborhood Student Council. Enjoy!

[[OCD is up! Food & Drink | Tables | Bumper Cars | Canadian Rockies | Carousel | Drop Tower | Ferris Wheel | Haunted House | Motion Simulator | Paratrooper | Pirate Ship | Reverse Bungee | Rock-O-Plane | Speed | Swings | Tilt-A-Whirl | Tunnel of Love | Zipper | Ball Toss | Bean Bag Toss | Duck Pond | Mechanical Moose | Milk Bottles | Skee-Ball | Strength Test | Water Gun Target Practice | Whack-A-Gremlin | OOC | Post II ]]
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
Jack hadn't had anyone visiting (or at least, he hadn't recognized anyone, and now he felt kind of bad wondering if maybe he had missed the eunuch or Mr. Gibbs if he'd taken a bath...)

He was behind the bar trying to alphabetize the various kinds of rum, humming along with the various accordion-music versions of pop hits that the DJ (who would probably be dead by morning...) was playing.
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
Jack actually had to be on time for his shifts now that the sun was setting at a more reasonable time.

Stupid sun. He'd liked that half-hour of leeway he'd had before Eric had woken up.

Jack was behind the bar learning how to toss bottles of booze like that Tom Cruise movie.

Tiny was hiding.

The Devil's Nest was open!
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
Jack pranced into the bar with a huge grin on his face. It was his favorite day of the year: International Talk Like a Pirate Day.

He moved behind the bar and started assembling some grog, as was only fitting for such an important night.

The sign on the bar read: Think ye can outdrink a real pirate? First glass o' grog on the house!

The next glass would be double the price because, um, pirate.

The Devil's Nest was open! And festive!
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
Jack was in a wonderful mood tonight. The rum had returned, people had made absolute idiots of themselves all weekend (he hadn't been nearly so bad!), and the DJ was playing decent music for once.

He had a sign up that read "10 percent off if you made an ass of yerself" at the bar, and was eager to help people drown their sorrows.
[identity profile] doyoufondue.livejournal.com
The place was decorated in a classic, tasteful this afternoon. It was going to be a small, quiet affair that the entire town was invited to because what was the point of having a wedding if all the people you don't like couldn't show up to glower at you and your happiness?

No point at at, that's right.

It was going to be an event to... kill for?

[[OCD coming is up!]]
[identity profile] doyoufondue.livejournal.com
Sometime in the middle of the night Howard's totally awesome mustache disappeared, only to be replaced by a 5 o'clock shadow that George Michael would be jealous of. And he'd somehow managed to get eyeliner on that was so perfect, women might be jealous of his skills. So, he had that going for him today.

That and his illicit alcohol smuggling business that kept the Starks in power on this island. Screw the rules, he had money! And a large selection of fine alcohol saved up from when he moved in!

He looked out the window of the show at his domain, thinking of his future wedding that would once and for all bring those damned Skywalkers under his heel. Where they belonged.

[[Open speakeasy is open!]]
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
The DJ was cranking the music tonight, but you could hear Jack's anguished cry even over that as he came in for another shift:

"WHY IS THE RUM GONE?!!!"

Good luck getting anything useful from him. He was busy sobbing behind the bar.
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
Jack was behind the bar cleaning the glassware--he wasn't that big a believer in cleaniness but his boss terrified him--while Tiny stood at the other other end of the club and sent Tino increasingly bizarre limericks.

Everyone needed a hobby, all right?
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
Jack was behind the bar trying to figure out how he was going to pour drinks when all of the cocktail shakers had turned into nests tonight, which explained the specials.

"Everything I don't have t' mix: 30 percent off!"

The Devil's Nest was open.
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
Jack was behind the bar, where he had proudly put up his very own sign: HALF PRICE DRINKS IF IT'S YOUR LAST WEEK ON THE ISLAND.

Hopefully no one would take him up on it!

Tiny was not getting involved, but he would tattle to Eric if they took too hard a dip into the profits and that would be coming out of Jack's salary and not his, thank you so much
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
Jack was at the front of the classroom preparing to receive free dinner for the final time. It was so sad.

"Greetings, me hearties!" he began, um, heartily. "This is our final time together, so I have prepared something special for you!"

Be afraid. Be very afraid.

"Ye know the way this works by now: 20 minutes for appetizers, 30 minutes for a main course and 30 minutes for dessert. Your time begins...now!"
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
"Welcome back!" Jack said. "Today's special ingredients do not include squirrel, alot or deer, if any of you were worried."

Well, they probably were now.

"You know how this works by now--20 minutes for your appetizer, 30 minutes for your entree, and 30 for your dessert course. Open your baskets and begin!"
lockestheway: (bde - teal deer)
[personal profile] lockestheway
The blasted heath might be trying to devour the entire island, but it still hailed from one focal point. The campgrounds, now grey and full of ashes, held the source of the taint. A rock, so strangely hued, so alien-looking. The fissure it was in produced bubbles now under the last rays of the sun, sending the water trembling.

It was time to do something about it.

It would take work to draw all the grey out of the land, but concentrated effort might do it. After that, removing the rock might work - at least if the professors of Miskatonic University were right.

That was the plan.

But there were monsters on the horizon, playing and eating around the blasted heath, and they would not take any of this lightly.

Be ready, Fandom. It’s going to be a long day.

[[ this is your finale post, folks! hold on for the ocd up, NPCs and crazy PCs here. ]]
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
Jack (and Eric, lurking in his usual spot) were in the Devil's Nest as was their usual habit on Mondays.

Tonight, Jack was in an argument with the DJ (Jack was in the mood for Jimmy Buffet, or at least a margarita, and the DJ had Views on That), and Eric was not getting involved.

Tiny was updating his resume.

[OOC: OCD is just tempting fate tonight. Open and OCD free!]
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
"Welcome back t' the greatest cooking class ever conceived!" Jack crowed, clapping his hands together. "Tonight we have very special treats waiting for ye in your baskets."

Are you afraid? Good.

"The set up is the same as last week: 20 minutes to cook your appetizer, 45 minutes for your main course, and 30 minutes for dessert. Your time starts...now!"

Jack loved getting free food every week.
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
"Why is it so cold?" Jack demanded as he stomped snow off of his boots and shivered his way over to the bar. "I'm a pirate from the Caribbean. I don't like snow. Make it go away."

Tiny rolled his eyes and handed Jack an ice bucket.

Jack shrugged. "Well, when life hands you ice, make frozen margaritas. Old pirate saying."
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
"Hello, and welcome t' the greatest class ever conceived: Feed Jack Sparrow Weekly!"

Perhaps that was a tad too honest.

"I mean Chopped! A test of your culinary skills, where if I don't like the dish you've made, you'll be keelhauled and marrooned!"

That was not true.

"You will be given three basket of ingredients and a set amount of time in which to make the food! You will make an appetizer with one, an entree with the second, and a dessert with the final! Try not to give me food poisoning!"

Which, given some of the ingredients, was probably not entirely unlikely.

He gestured over to a refridgerator and a pantry. "There are loads of other ingredients, but you must feature each of the ingredients in your baskets, and don't forget to use one even if you think French dressing is disgusting."

He clasped his hands together, chortling in glee. "First round is the appetizer! You have twenty minutes and your time starts...now!"
lockestheway: (regency)
[personal profile] lockestheway
There was a moment where in the park, there was no tea.

There was another moment right after that one at which there was.

How the park went from one state to the other would remain a mystery.

But the picnic tables were out, and covered in old-fashioned tea sets. Little stacks of tiny sandwiches were placed delicately upon fine china, and there were baskets of scones everywhere. Next to the scones? Marmalade, in several flavours, well-made.

The tables also produced various other sweets and desserts that wouldn't run out until the tea would, just as mysteriously, vanish right around 5 o'clock into whatever tea-heaven it had came from. By the edge of the park, there were several wardrobes full of the latest 1815s fashions to be worn - which would be a good idea to try, considering the rather judgey glances the British regency ladies were tossing everyone's way.

It was very expensive tea, after all.

Afternoon tea was ready, Fandom. Make use of it while it was still there.

Enjoy it. And don't ask too many questions.
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
"I've got a lov-e-ly bunch of coconuts...doo dee doo--" Jack sang as he came into the club, trying to lead Tiny in a waltz around the room.

That...didn't happen, so Jack settled behind the bar where his lovely bunch of coconuts would be turned into pina coladas tonight.

The Devil's Nest was open.
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
Jack was practically bouncing around the room, so excited was he to start this final class. "We're treasure hunting!" he crowed. "Grab your shovels, your maps, your poison antidotes--" don't ask, "--and your sacks for hauling treasure! Last person to the treasure chest walks the plank!"

He was probably kidding, but there wouldn't be a chance to ask as he raced out the door, cackling to himself.
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
With Eric nowhere to be found, Jack was forced to take the class into his own (fairly filthy) hands. "Good evening, me hearties!" he said. "Today, we begin what I believe t' be the most important part of long term investment strategy--the making of a proper treasure map. What, I ask, is the use of making all of this money if ye can't find it again after burying it ten paces past a palm tree that then falls down in a hurricane? Ye need a proper back-up system, says I."

No, he had not thought of using a bank.

He handed out maps of the island. "Here's a good starting place," he said, "though the Isle of Ikea seems t' be sticking around as well. I wouldn't recommend burying anything over in yonder town. Find five places you think seem like good places t' hide things and I'll tell you if you're right."

Chances were, he already had something tucked away in most of the likely locations. "Next week, we'll go on a treasure hunt!"
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
Jack skittered into the club and flung himself behind the bar. "I'm here! I'm here! Nobody panic."

Tiny, looking far from panicked, rolled his eyes and went back to his Sudoku puzzle.

The Devil's Nest was open, if frazzled.

[OOC: And OCD (and vampire) free!]
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
"Good evening!" Jack crowed from the front of the classroom, clasping his hands together happily. "Tonight we are going to play a game that teaches ye all about outsmartin' yer opponents and making them have t' look through sofa cushions for spare change when they realize ye have all of the railroads and utilities! Yer computers are all set up with the game!"

In Dutch. There was a reason Eric generally did the prepwork.

Eric was looking over the computer screens and sighing (theatrically, since he didn't breathe). "Do the best you can."
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
Jack was so glad that they were out of the rain, even if it was still a little cool and unhumid for his preferences. Tiny was in the back room kicking the hell out of a ukelele (for once, Jack didn't ask), and so Jack sat behind the bar trying to set up a shot glass pyramid.

The locals seemed like the hard-drinkin' type.
texted3times: (Default)
[personal profile] texted3times
Eric and Jack were at the front of class as usual, with laptops placed on the desks in the classroom. "Today we learn about using property to build up long-term wealth," Eric said smootly. "Through flash games and not actual money."

He liked his money, thank you so much.

"The goal is to accrue enough wealth that you can buy a 10 million dollar home, hopefully before you die," he said, turning on the game. "It took Jack 91 years so he's out of luck."

"Not if I live forever," Jack grumbled.

"See if you can best his score," Eric concluded before going into more detail about how the game worked.
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
Jack was back behind the bar, excited for the beginning of summer (or so he'd heard--it was still pouring outside, so it didn't exactly feel like cookout weather). He was even working on making a mojito!

On glass of rum with a piece of mint in it, and an ice cube. Close enough, right?

Halfway through the evening he began to wonder just how dead Eric would kill him if he drank one just to drown out the DJ and his endless repeat of "Proud to be an American."

As far as Jack could tell, the DJ wasn't American. Or possibly even from this planet.

The Devil's Nest was open. And weirdly patriotic.
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
"Good evening," Jack said, grinning at the assembled group before tugging a chest out from behind the desk. Eric rolled his eyes--Jack had absolutely refused to let him look inside or even know where he'd gotten it. "We're going t' explore the importance of easily portable income tonight."

He knelt down and opened up the lid of the trunk, revealing it to be jammed full of gold coins and jewelry. "Namely, identifying the most valuable gems. Personally, I like emeralds, rubies, and gold--" which was fairly obvious by the chest "--but I've provided a variety of other stones as well fer ye t' get used to."

His eyes glittered at them. "And I know exactly how much I've brought with me, so please avoid the temptation of letting any of this stick t' yer fingers or clothing on yer way out, savvy?"

"Strangely enough, the pirate makes a good point about gems," Eric added. "They are extremely valuable and easy to slip in your pocket if you need to move locations quickly." He strode around the room, passing out handouts. "Pair up and try to identify the gems we put in front of you."
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
Jack was behind the bar trying to make small talk with Tiny, which was going about as badly as you could imagine. So far neither of them had picked "Japan of the future!" as where they were: Jack had money down on Singapore, which was...closeish, at least.

The Devil's Nest was open! And slightly confused.
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
If you thought Jack would have noticed that anything was different this week--including that his clothing had been replaced with things that were more artistically ripped rather than just worn to holes--well, you hadn't spent much time with the pirate.

He was outside the radio station today with his voting box for the radio broadcasters, blasting top forty music: Madonna, Michael Jackson, you know, the recent stuff.
texted3times: (Default)
[personal profile] texted3times

Eric and Jack were back in front of the classroom again, and laptops had been placed on each person's desk. "Tonight we will work with a simulation that will let you experience the importance of making proper financial decisions without risking any real money," Eric said.

Via being stranded on a weird planet full of slime. Eric thought he was amusing. "Please run through the simulation and then tell us how much money you managed to save up by July. Could you afford your return ticket home?"

Eric had been able to, easily. Jack...not so much. "What investments did you make? Did you choose to eat less food, commute? Skip vacations?" He waved his hand. "And yes, before anyone complains, the simulation doesn't make allowance for enhanced abilities to glamour people into doing what you want or the money you'd save if don't have to eat food."

He was thinking of writing an email.

...okay, not really.

[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
Jack was running a little late (he'd been outside soaking up the sunshine and not caring at all about how bloody hot it was) and tread sand into the very neat club, to the glares of Tiny who immediately began texting messages to Tino about how some people don't take professional pride in their jobs.

Jack ignored him as he sat behind the bar with a glass of (sigh) water, reorganizing the booze from least to most expensive, then by what he'd drink first if Eric wouldn't kill him dead for it.

The Devil's Nest was open!
texted3times: (Default)
[personal profile] texted3times
There were two very unique personalities at the front of the classroom in the community center: one tall, blond and almost glowing (though never, he'd tell you, sparkling) with paleness, and the other was shorter, darker, and showing all of the signs of only having a casual (if any) acquaintance with personal hygiene. The taller one spoke first. "I am Eric Northman," he began, "and this is a class to teach you about learning the tricks of long-term personal finance. After all," he smiled, looking slightly fangy, "if you are planning to live forever, it just won't do to be poor throughout."

Jack nodded solemnly. "And since this is our first class together, please give us your names, how rich you are, where your money is located and if it is well protected--" he trailed off under Eric's withering stare. "Just those first two things," he amended, "and once we're done with that, I shall teach you to cheat at cards."

Eric didn't say anything about that part. Gambling was a viable way to make money as long as you cheated better than the other guy.
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
After lying to the DJ and assuring him that of course they were still in Maryland...more or less (Jack might be drunk much of the time, but he could read the stars and they weren't on the same side of the world as they'd been on Saturday), he went on to assure the man that if he played one note more of "Proud to be an American," he would meet painful pointy death on the end of Jack's sword.

The Devil's Nest was open, and not playing twangy and overly sappy patriotic music today, thank ye kindly.
[identity profile] rilla-myrilla.livejournal.com
Rilla was probably a little stickier than the traditional bride normally was (she'd had cotton candy. And ice cream. And a couple of cookies. Look, Warren and Karla's party had good food), but she was sure she looked beauuuuuuuutiful in her wedding gown made of a bedsheet and her window curtain veil.

She had flowers that she'd taken from the ground (with most of the dirt taken off of them, even!) and had even found a very nice--if a little confused--man to perform the ceremony!

And after she was done gettin' married, she would be more than willing to share her wedding dress with anyone else who wanted to get married! Weddings for everyone!

Life was pretty easy when you're six.

[OOC: Pls wait for tiny ocd...]
prof_of_cunning: (Default)
[personal profile] prof_of_cunning
No, Edmund wasn't in the wrong place and neither was this post; there was an incredibly direct note taped to the classroom door pointing his Dealing With Idiots students this way.

He also wasn't wearing one of the lovely purple uniform shirts stacked on the table beside him, and as for the hats... well. You couldn't pay him to put one of those on.

Just in case that wasn't obvious, he opened with a subtle allusion to that very fact: "You couldn't pay me to put one of those hats on." See? Subtle. "If you've any sense at all, the same is true for you."

Blackadder smiled somewhat evilly. Well.... not evilly, not really. Just bastardly. Evil took more effort than he cared to expend. "Luckily for us all, I'm not paying you; I'm just ordering you. Welcome to the Real World, and I don't mean that programme where they shove a bunch of spoiled twenty-somethings into a flat for six weeks and interview them on the commode about the previous week's adventures in fornication. I'm talking about the service industry. Today, half of you will be wearing the pointier and less dangly bits of a cow on your heads, while the other half try as hard as possible to make your lives completely miserable while ordering food from you."

All right, maybe he was a little evil. "The place is also open to the public, so you'll have to deal with any real idiots who wander in."

[OOC: Open! Post is for Dealing With Idiots class and anyone else who wants to traipse in and make their lives hell by ordering a Super McDuper McMoobity Meal with no bun, ranch dressing on the side, extra ice in the Diet Coke and a mini-moob meal toy without the mini-moob meal.]
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
"Radio, radio romance--" Jack sang as he wiped down the gleaming bar.

It wasn't what the DJ was playing--he'd declared it 80s and 90s throwback night and was cycling through the greatest hits of New Kids on the Block--but it was at least the right era.

The Devil's Nest is open! Peg your jeans and come on in.
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
After a very, very brief discussion with Tiny when Jack tried to convince the man to braid his hair and Tiny told him that maybe he wouldn't break both of Jack's arms in return, Jack was back behind the bar, drinking ice water with lemon.

Yes, lemon.

He was slicing more, though, just in case Eric kept track of where the lemons went.

The DJ seemed to be stuck on the greatest hits of 1995 tonight. Hope everyone liked Boyz II Men.
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
Jack was back behind the bar tonight, still sober. The new DJ (he didn't ask what happened to the last one; his boss didn't seem like the overly chatty sort) was playing the greatest hits of Wham, which didn't strike Jack as the best way to keep a job, but what did he know? He ran a radio statio, but it's not like he listened to half of the music he had access to.

He waved at Tiny, then settled behind the bar for the evening.
[identity profile] capt-maxfactor.livejournal.com
Captain Jack Sparrow wasn't exactly thrilled with having found gainful employment (and even less thrilled when his new boss laid out in explicit terms what would happen if he was caught sampling the merchandise behind the bar), but it was better than sitting around in his room and staring at the walls.

After saying hello to Tiny at the door, Jack slid in behind the bar, cast a worried glance at the VIP section where his boss was lurking, and then prepared for a night of service.

The Devil's Nest was open! And painfully sober.
[identity profile] bluth-illusions.livejournal.com
A sign was posted at the front door:
G.O.B. Bluth Presents:
The Tenth Anniversary Edition of
Three Minute Dates at Caritas

hosted by A Matchmaker Named G.O.B.


Just before 6:00, the lights went dark and a sole zombie walked out onto the stage and sat down at a piano. The zombie then started playing The Final Countdown, followed by the other zombies, all with violins to join in. And then GOB walked out onto the stage, holding and petting a lovebird. He then released the bird, which flew up toward the ceiling before somehow getting stuck in an air duct.

As GOB went into his spiel about how 3MD was a Fandom institution that he started and how he had brought so much love to Fandom with it and that the tenth annual (he still hadn't figured that part out) edition demanded the respect that a piano and not doing magic ("Unless any of the legal ladies out there want to see me make another lovebird appear," and yes, he was talking about his penis).

Meanwhile, the lovebird was still stuck in the air duct. As air rushed past the bird and into the lounge, some strange pheromones released by the bird were thrown back at the stage, where it reacted with the already strange combination of zombie smell and cologne used to hide the zombie smell on such a classy occasion, somehow generating a powerful love potion that would be making its way into the lounge, affecting people at random for three minutes at a time. Bizarrely, that was exactly how long each of the dates tonight would be.

Sometimes Fandom worked in mysterious ways. Mysteriously sexy ways.

"I call your names, you meet up with each other, talk for three minutes, and then you'll hear the sound of a zombie smashing his hands against a bunch of piano keys. Go ahead and do it," GOB said. The zombie started smashing the keys randomly. One of the other zombies joined in because a band was all about teamwork. "And that's how we start!"

[The Bar Before the Dates | Round 1 | Round 2 | Round 3 | Round 4 | Round 5 | OOC]
[Regular post-dates Caritas post]

[OOC: Lots of OCD coming IS UP. RANDOMLY ASSIGNED LOVE POTION IS MARKED IN THREAD TITLES WITH ONE OF THESE "*" AFTER THE AFFECTED PERSON'S NAME! For example: "Nick* / 3MD Participants" means that I will spend the next three minutes loving everyone who signed up. But not in a dirty way because that would be exhausting and I have a sister among the participants and eww.

Remember that you can also choose to be affected by love potion in any round(s) at your discretion. Also, the love potion can only affect people in the lounge during the dates. People at the bar and on the stage will not be affected. People who are affected will just be incredibly drawn to their date, flirt harder, maybe go for some physical contact more quickly, but they shouldn't necessarily go straight for making out. Unless you choose to have them go for it. The upper limit is player's choice.

As I'm going along, if I made an obvious mistake, like skipping a character completely for a round or posting a pairing twice, feel free to grab me on AIM or in the OOC thread and I'll make a quick fix. And remember, attacks on your dates will get you teleported elsewhere on the island.

Also remember that most playing should happen on Saturday, but if you need to finish a thread or two on Sunday, that's fine.

GO FORTH AND PLAY!]
[identity profile] apples-n-poetry.livejournal.com
There was rather less to be done today in preparation for the auditions, truly, which would be why after making certain that everything was set up exactly the way he wanted, Genesis had flung himself down in a seat and was texting Angeal.

It gave him something to do while he waited to see who might show up. And it was always amusing to needle his old friend with taunts of a secret that he wasn't inclined to share just yet.

Casting for DOGS
Cast and crew needed! Free food and drink available!


He'd put the phone away when people began arriving, of course, but until then...

Well, why not?

Fandom High RPG



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If your character is a new business owner, please use the New Business Form to give us your information, and we'll create an entry for the business.

---       All Businesses
---       NPC-owned
---       Completely NPC


In-Character Comms

School and Grounds
---       Fandom High School
---       Staff Lounge
---       TA Lounge
---       Student Dorms

Around the Island
---       Fandom Town
---       Fandom Clinic

Communications
---       Radio News Recaps
---       Student Newspaper
---       IC Social Media Posts

Off-Island Travel
---       FH Trips

Once Upon a Time...
---       FH Wishverse AU


Out-of-Character Comms

---       Main OOC Comm
---       Plot Development
---       OOC-but-IC Fun





Disclaimer

Fandom High is a not-for-profit text-based game/group writing exercise, featuring fictional characters and settings from a variety of creators, used without permission but for entertainment purposes only.

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