no subject

[heaaarts]

[ It's becoming habit for the dressing room to toss spells out at midnight. This one starts mid-morning, when the sun is shining and the skies are clear, so the full extent of the damage changes can be seen. The overall design and architecture of places have changed. Not all, but some, have changed entirely to the point where they're unrecognizeable. The park, for one, is looking much less natural and much more manicured. Some remain the very same on the inside, and some haven't changed at all. As for the people, well... Most don't take too well to finding their entire wardrobe changed, including the clothes on their body.

A full week of this happening should be a lot of fun. ]

{ ooc: if you're not following the ooc, explanation's here! there won't be a new post every day, so just post as the days change. ♥ edit: backdating and threadhop posts are fine like usual, and here's a good gallery of 18th century fashion in flm }

no subject

[asilencedlife.livejournal.com]

[There's the sounds of a sneezing fit from nearby, then anyone in the area will hear a grunt before seeing a curly, white wig being punted across the gardens. Well, perhaps not that far. Certainly not as far as Roxas would like it to be. His eyes are watery and red-rimmed, and he's breathing through his mouth because his nose is so stuffed on one side, runny on the other and sore in general. After a minute he discovers an embroidered handkerchief up his sleeve, and promptly shoves one end up his nose to staunch the flow.

As soon as he looks like he's ready to calm down and simply breathe, the wig reappears on his head once more with a fine dusting of powder that sets off another round of sneezing. Really, he looks miserable.]

no subject

[stormytides.livejournal.com]

Oh, dear.

[Aqua would be sitting on her favourite bench in the park right now. That is, if she had the slightest idea where her favourite bench had gone. And if her current ensemble was allowing her to sit down comfortably - too many petticoats... As it is, she's leaning on a statue.

In front of her are lined up a small collection of creatures. Keyblade-like creatures. Observant folks may have noticed the odd one of them wandering around in the past - but the fact this group are dressed up in tiny powdered wigs and the likes is a little different. A little Stroke of Midnight is trying to pull a puffy dress off without success.]

What are we going to do with you?