❧ Out ❧ Of ❧ Time

[tinkertank]

➷ Pick A Muse
➷ Post a Prompt: leave a picture, a line, or a full-on tag!
➷ THE CATCH!: AU-it! If they're sci-fi? Stick them in BCE. If they're Victorian? Put them in the 1920s. If they're from Candyland? Put them into Steampunk Dystopian Veggieland. WHERE IN TIME IS CARMEN SANDIAGO? them. Let's do this.
➷ Label who you're tagging.
(Also put what time period/theme, if you have something specific in mind and think it's unclear.)
➷ ♥

Comments

BETTER NOT BE HIS MOB NAME, DOG DROOL!

[maraudingprongs]

[James propped a foot up on the table and grinned over at his friend. The hat he'd placed on his head (he thought it looked ace, quite frankly, pinstripes and all, real flashy), drooped a little low, slipping over his eyebrows and matting his hair over his eyes just enough to have the effect of making him look slightly more ridiculous than what he envisioned he might look like, sitting at their base of operations, prepping a heist.]

So, bud. D'ya reckon we hit up that bank tonight? The one with the stuffy old manager, Mister what's-his-face? With the bow tie and the sort of creepy-eyes.

[Onto the crux of the matter:]

There's a thing on at the Palace Theater later this week, and I want to ask Evans to go with me.

[So the extra cash couldn't hurt, right? Not if he wanted to take her to a nice dinner beforehand, to boot.]

NOPE IT TOTALLY IS.

[lechiennoir]

[In contrast to James, Sirius is effortlessly pulling off his look, all charm and smiles and three-piece-suits. He's sprawled out in a chair as well, eyeing James from under the brim of his hat.]

Alright. I figure we can get in and out pretty easily.

[And there's a roll of his eyes.] Christ, James, the bird's never gonna pay attention to you.

NOT ON, MATE.

[maraudingprongs]

Oi.

[Comes the rebuttal, and he stops playing with the baseball he had in hand for half a second, to shoot Sirius another look.

...Before promptly going to switch it from hovering over his knuckles to resting in his palm again, watching it with a brooding look. Pitched a perfect game with this ball, hey. Not just anyone who has an arm like that, wasn't that right?

Why Evans absolutely refused to take notice was anyone's guess. (Did she really think he was that much of a waste of time?)]

Dame's got a head on her, hasn't she? She'll come 'round. She can't hang out with that pill Snape forever, hey?

[A shrug, and he repeated the trick again, mouth sloping sideways in thought.]

She's playing hard to get, is all. But James Potter's always up for a challenge.

[And there was bravado in his voice, despite the troubled tug of his mouth further downwards.]