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hh_mirror2007-07-08 09:03 pm
bad-trepanation.livejournal.com) wrote in hh_mirror2007-07-08 09:03 pm
Entry tags:
Application for Mason, from 'Dead Like Me'
The sorting room was... surprisingly still. Was it empty? All there was in the room was...
Oh, wait, what was that lump in that chair?
There was most definitely a man sprawled across the desk, face smushed into the pile of pages on the table and looking... a bit like a hobo, really. There were rather loud snores coming from beneath the hood tugged up over the guy's head, and the Dictaquill had sprung into action, scrawling out several 'Z's across the parchment. It had filled up two and a half backs of various applications before it finally came to a pause, instead taking it upon itself to jab furiously at the sleeping form's arm.
"Fucking what the bloody 'ell!"
Mason snapped upright, nearly knocking his chair over backwards in his rather overzealous backwards flail. Woops. With a hard sweep of the hood off his head, he mumbled something a little loud, that sounded vaguely like, 'I'm awake, I swear' before he started slapping at the papers on the table in a last-ditch effort to look like he was actually doing something.
1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?
What the hell kind of paperwork was this? Mason paused to furrow his eyebrows at the page, wrinkling his nose and glancing around briefly, as if to see if certain other reapers were ready to pop out of nowhere to laugh. Was this for real? "Fuck, I don't know," he mumbled under his breath in a slightly slurred British accent, trying to grab at the quill as it started hopping away from him towards a fresh page, making a strange sort of raspberry-esque sound in the wake of its escape. Prick. "That shit they put on pizza. Mozzarella."
2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?
"Both," Mason added without a beat, glaring at the quill as it scribbled away his answers just out of arm's reach. "I've got nothing for the dinosaur and his songs actually rather make me want to pluck my ears off and eat them for breakfast." Touche, quill. Long as he didn't have to do any work.
He leaned back in the chair and kicked up his feet onto the table. "And, I mean, Carrottop, you'd want to off for the hair alone. 'S terrible." Not that he was one to talk, with hair so hopeless rumpled that it looked like he'd just clambered out of bed. He could at least toy with the possibilities of this. God, how fantastic would it be to reap Carrottop? And to know you've saved the world from that kind of horror?
3. What time is it where you are?
Er. He had... no clock on him. His watch had died last week. "It is..." He pursed his lips, glancing idly around the room, at the windows. Afternoon. "Three?" Maybe?
4. If you were Albus Dumbledore returned from the dead, which member of the Order of the Phoenix would you sexually harass? How would you harass them? If you are Albus Dumbledore, please answer as if you were Sirius Black.
Oh, now that was just uncalled for. "Now, I do not sexually harass anyone," he replied earnestly, slinging an arm across the back of his chair. No, really. He didn't. Because he usually ended up getting slapped if he even looked at a girl funny, never mind his absolutely shit pick-up lines. "That's just wrong, it really is. So many levels. You ought to be ashamed of yourself."
...But while they were on the topic? "You know, I wouldn't say 'no' to that Hestia Jones." What? He had a thing for the nice girls. "And, I mean, Lily Potter? Nymphadora Tonks? I see much potential in that group. I really do." Not too many ladies in the group, mind, but, hey, Mason was an equal opportunity sort of person.
5. If you are pushing to be in:
A. Slytherin - please state the clever, witty name of the bar in which you bartend, in the dark.
Bartend? Mason? He could barely manage shell games. "I'm not much for sitting behind the bar," he admitted honestly, patting his coat pocket with the faithful little flask of brandy inside. Nor was he an alcoholic, no, that was just cruel to suggest. What? "On a stool in front of it? Now THERE'S a place to be."
B. Gryffindor – Debate whether Harry should ultimately end up married to Fred or George. Use examples from a variety of world mythologies to bolster your argument.
Wait, George? Toilet Seat Girl George? And who was Fred? Mason'd no idea, but if George was getting tangled up in shit like this... Hey, love triangles. Why not?
It did still pose an interesting question. Mason sat up straight, letting his chair fall to all four legs with a solid 'thud' in the midst of the room. "Who the fuck is Harry?" he asked in a mutter under his breath, eyebrow arched. Shit, he barely knew anybody else in the way of people outside of the first and middle initial, last name, basis.
"Whatever. If Harry's got two people fighting over him? Right on." Mason could barely get one. What was up with that? "George happens to be a rather angry young woman, if you're getting my drift, so. Run along with Fred while you still can. She'll eat your heart, I swear."
C. Ravenclaw – You guys are supposed to be smart. Explain why my desk is inundated with paperwork at all times, even though I’m constantly disposing of it.
"Because your boss couldn't possibly upgrade technologically and he's still writing out records with a fucking pen from the who-the-fuck-knows-what decade?" Mason snarked, grinning a little and... oops? Was Rube here? It didn't matter. Wasn't the first time Mason had pulled the smart ass shit on the guy. It was fun! ...Being called a fuck-up, not so much, but torturing Rube? Very.
D. Hufflepuff – Prove you are not useless.
Say what? Mason was not useless! He could. ...He could, um.
...
"Salesman!" he suddenly yelped to the quill, pointing at the thing with a narrowed look to his eyes. "I can sell kitchen appliance shit like nobody's business, and you'd best write that down you fucking little demon quill."
6. Offer a bribe to the members of this community so that they will not squib you. Items used in bribery do not necessarily have to belong to the person offering the bribe. Do not threaten us rather than offering a bribe. A threat indicates you either don't really want to be here, or don't have enough sense to answer the question properly. The hat will automatically squib you, regardless of other votes, if you do.
A bribe? ...Well, shit. That, he hadn't been expecting. He'd had a joint not long ago, but... Er, that was gone. Yes, long gone. He'd never had much to begin with, after all. He didn't have a job. He was absolute rubbish at conning. "I am an excellent man for advice. No, really. Ask me about frogs. About parrots! I know it." Er, what else could he do? "Spelling. I can spell."
Yeah, total fail. New strategy. "All right, I've got a bag of ecstasy tablets in my coat, yeah? But I'm only coughing up one a piece, I swear. I earned these." From fairly-earned quarters from that broken vending machine up on Thayer Street. ...
What! It was just begging to be stolen from!
"I have read the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. Mason
I have read thehogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. Mason
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. Mason
One day, marmalade will rule the world. Oh, bloody hell, I should hope not. That rubbish makes my toast taste like fried asshole.
Oh, wait, what was that lump in that chair?
There was most definitely a man sprawled across the desk, face smushed into the pile of pages on the table and looking... a bit like a hobo, really. There were rather loud snores coming from beneath the hood tugged up over the guy's head, and the Dictaquill had sprung into action, scrawling out several 'Z's across the parchment. It had filled up two and a half backs of various applications before it finally came to a pause, instead taking it upon itself to jab furiously at the sleeping form's arm.
"Fucking what the bloody 'ell!"
Mason snapped upright, nearly knocking his chair over backwards in his rather overzealous backwards flail. Woops. With a hard sweep of the hood off his head, he mumbled something a little loud, that sounded vaguely like, 'I'm awake, I swear' before he started slapping at the papers on the table in a last-ditch effort to look like he was actually doing something.
1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?
What the hell kind of paperwork was this? Mason paused to furrow his eyebrows at the page, wrinkling his nose and glancing around briefly, as if to see if certain other reapers were ready to pop out of nowhere to laugh. Was this for real? "Fuck, I don't know," he mumbled under his breath in a slightly slurred British accent, trying to grab at the quill as it started hopping away from him towards a fresh page, making a strange sort of raspberry-esque sound in the wake of its escape. Prick. "That shit they put on pizza. Mozzarella."
2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?
"Both," Mason added without a beat, glaring at the quill as it scribbled away his answers just out of arm's reach. "I've got nothing for the dinosaur and his songs actually rather make me want to pluck my ears off and eat them for breakfast." Touche, quill. Long as he didn't have to do any work.
He leaned back in the chair and kicked up his feet onto the table. "And, I mean, Carrottop, you'd want to off for the hair alone. 'S terrible." Not that he was one to talk, with hair so hopeless rumpled that it looked like he'd just clambered out of bed. He could at least toy with the possibilities of this. God, how fantastic would it be to reap Carrottop? And to know you've saved the world from that kind of horror?
3. What time is it where you are?
Er. He had... no clock on him. His watch had died last week. "It is..." He pursed his lips, glancing idly around the room, at the windows. Afternoon. "Three?" Maybe?
4. If you were Albus Dumbledore returned from the dead, which member of the Order of the Phoenix would you sexually harass? How would you harass them? If you are Albus Dumbledore, please answer as if you were Sirius Black.
Oh, now that was just uncalled for. "Now, I do not sexually harass anyone," he replied earnestly, slinging an arm across the back of his chair. No, really. He didn't. Because he usually ended up getting slapped if he even looked at a girl funny, never mind his absolutely shit pick-up lines. "That's just wrong, it really is. So many levels. You ought to be ashamed of yourself."
...But while they were on the topic? "You know, I wouldn't say 'no' to that Hestia Jones." What? He had a thing for the nice girls. "And, I mean, Lily Potter? Nymphadora Tonks? I see much potential in that group. I really do." Not too many ladies in the group, mind, but, hey, Mason was an equal opportunity sort of person.
5. If you are pushing to be in:
A. Slytherin - please state the clever, witty name of the bar in which you bartend, in the dark.
Bartend? Mason? He could barely manage shell games. "I'm not much for sitting behind the bar," he admitted honestly, patting his coat pocket with the faithful little flask of brandy inside. Nor was he an alcoholic, no, that was just cruel to suggest. What? "On a stool in front of it? Now THERE'S a place to be."
B. Gryffindor – Debate whether Harry should ultimately end up married to Fred or George. Use examples from a variety of world mythologies to bolster your argument.
Wait, George? Toilet Seat Girl George? And who was Fred? Mason'd no idea, but if George was getting tangled up in shit like this... Hey, love triangles. Why not?
It did still pose an interesting question. Mason sat up straight, letting his chair fall to all four legs with a solid 'thud' in the midst of the room. "Who the fuck is Harry?" he asked in a mutter under his breath, eyebrow arched. Shit, he barely knew anybody else in the way of people outside of the first and middle initial, last name, basis.
"Whatever. If Harry's got two people fighting over him? Right on." Mason could barely get one. What was up with that? "George happens to be a rather angry young woman, if you're getting my drift, so. Run along with Fred while you still can. She'll eat your heart, I swear."
C. Ravenclaw – You guys are supposed to be smart. Explain why my desk is inundated with paperwork at all times, even though I’m constantly disposing of it.
"Because your boss couldn't possibly upgrade technologically and he's still writing out records with a fucking pen from the who-the-fuck-knows-what decade?" Mason snarked, grinning a little and... oops? Was Rube here? It didn't matter. Wasn't the first time Mason had pulled the smart ass shit on the guy. It was fun! ...Being called a fuck-up, not so much, but torturing Rube? Very.
D. Hufflepuff – Prove you are not useless.
Say what? Mason was not useless! He could. ...He could, um.
...
"Salesman!" he suddenly yelped to the quill, pointing at the thing with a narrowed look to his eyes. "I can sell kitchen appliance shit like nobody's business, and you'd best write that down you fucking little demon quill."
6. Offer a bribe to the members of this community so that they will not squib you. Items used in bribery do not necessarily have to belong to the person offering the bribe. Do not threaten us rather than offering a bribe. A threat indicates you either don't really want to be here, or don't have enough sense to answer the question properly. The hat will automatically squib you, regardless of other votes, if you do.
A bribe? ...Well, shit. That, he hadn't been expecting. He'd had a joint not long ago, but... Er, that was gone. Yes, long gone. He'd never had much to begin with, after all. He didn't have a job. He was absolute rubbish at conning. "I am an excellent man for advice. No, really. Ask me about frogs. About parrots! I know it." Er, what else could he do? "Spelling. I can spell."
Yeah, total fail. New strategy. "All right, I've got a bag of ecstasy tablets in my coat, yeah? But I'm only coughing up one a piece, I swear. I earned these." From fairly-earned quarters from that broken vending machine up on Thayer Street. ...
What! It was just begging to be stolen from!
"I have read the
hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. MasonI have read the
hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. MasonI agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. Mason
One day, marmalade will rule the world. Oh, bloody hell, I should hope not. That rubbish makes my toast taste like fried asshole.
Re: vote: Hufflepuff
Re: vote: Hufflepuff
Uh, right. She'd asked a question. "Well, I mean, originally... London," he commented, shrugging and glancing back to Camilla. "Then... the States." Pause. "If that's what you mean." Hey, he'd met other reapers here, various magical creatures and magic and such... He had to ask.