"I Was Looking For Off-Handed Ways to Improve Us..."

[psalm_onethirtyone]

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PHOTOFIC ME!

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O:D

Comments

[karla-yonit.livejournal.com]

I love the second particularly. :D (A keyword would be important, wouldn't it?)

Rosa/Ophelia, veil. >:)

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

Thank you. I fail at keywords and/or Shakespeareans. *dies*

Rosa purses her lips, unwilling to be afraid of the muddy, tangle-haired girl. "May I brush your hair?"

"An you take my veil--'tis silken, harm it not--"

So Rosa picks the reeds out first, before she begins to brush. Her flouncy, ruffle-and-ribbon'd little self is achy somewhere.

[karla-yonit.livejournal.com]

(oh, I actually meant that I should have given a keyword for the second. *fails rather*)

So...more with the Drood. Er...Durdles/Bazzard, mausoleum. (Can you tell I'm sort of pulling them out of the air now?)

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

(I fail more!)

...I hate you. XD

Skulking around the mausoleum, with a flair of drama and a swirl of black cloak, Bazzard stumbles right into a man. Of all the bad luck! The fellow's drunk, and will be more of a hindrance than a help! This becomes even more startlingly clear when the man grabs him and kisses him, mumbling something about a darling beautiful rose--

[karla-yonit.livejournal.com]

Woe! I am hated.

...by the way, youwinsomuch.

Do write Jasper/Crisparkle again (or Paget/Moncrieffe, or both in one photofic), if you don't mind. :) "Flute".

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

Because you're a sadist, Karla. Stop. You can have one more after this, and THAT'S IT. XD

In the church, deserted on a Wednesday, John Jasper practises his piano for hours, playing the same piece over and over again, a piece written for a flute, which he plays as though it were written for piano. He is readying himself; within the hour the old reverend will come, and Jaspar will play him finer than any piano he ever touched.

[karla-yonit.livejournal.com]

So what if I'm a sadist, you're not helping me stop!

<33333333333333333333333333333333

...ahem. Normal pairing now. Joly/Bossuet, toast.

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

Don't you dare call me an enabler.

"Bread for breakfast or air, cherie?" Bossuet calls back over his shoulder.

"Only if you promise you'll wash your hands first. Or, better yet, use tongs and a knife and don't touch it. You always get things on bread that make me ill."

"Suppose I kiss it all over first?"

"Bossuet!"

"Don't worry." He smiles to himself as he tears off a piece of bread with his (washed) hands. "If there are things on the bread that make a fellow ill, I'm going to be the one who suffers them."

[karla-yonit.livejournal.com]

Enabler.

[rainbowjehan.livejournal.com]

*suffers and dies*

[karla-yonit.livejournal.com]

*mourns and strews things on thy grave*