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hh_mirror((Another Hero? SAY IT AIN'T SO. :P Spoilers for the episode 'Unexpected', just to be safe. And approved by Sylar-mun. ^^)
The first thing Dale did, when she felt able to move again, was bring her hand quickly to her forehead. Which was whole and smooth and blissfully devoid of, say, blood and bits of brain matter. Not that this state of affairs wasn't infinitely preferable to, you know, having bits of leftover brain sticking out, but it would be nice to know how she had gotten from one state to the other.
She put her hand shakily back down, aware of her own heart dancing away at triple the rate it should be. She didn't try to slow it, though, not yet. It wasn't nearly long enough ago that some unconscious part of her had heard it stop.
On a slightly less urgent note, her iPod had stopped working. That was annoying.
Mental once-over thus completed, Dale gradually became aware of her surroundings: the slightly-too-small chair she was balanced on; the cavernous, castle-like room; the footsteps and murmurs of conversation beyond the walls; the piece of paper rustling loudly as it fluttered in front of her face.
--Wait, what?
--Yes, there was definitely a piece of paper there, with fresh writing shining on it, and a quill in a pot dancing alongside it. What the hell?
1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?
"My favourite cheese?" she said aloud, bewildered. "I die and the first thing I'm asked about is cheese?"
The paper continued to float, unapologetically.
"...Um," said Dale. "All right, what the hell." She captured the paper in one hand and pressed it to a handy table, then retrieved the quill with trepidation. She'd never written with anything more archaic than a Biro: it'd been her brother who was into all that Dungeons-and-Dragons, I-am-Flagon-of-Hemsgard stuff. The paper was covered in blots before she was done, as were the sleeves of her blue overalls, and the landscape in general.
Cheddar, I guess. Strong cheddar. But not the dry, stinky kind. Because there's no gormet cheesemonger in Bozeman.
2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?
Again with the brain-flailing. What the...?
Barney, she scritched out hesitantly. Though to be brutally honest, it wasn't so much a considered decision as the first one that popped into her head.
3. What time is it where you are?
She glanced at her wrist out of habit, but there was no watch there, and hadn't been for a month or more. The ticking was too distracting. But she did remember it being late, and the moon almost high enough to see by.
A little after midnight.
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.
"...You're not serious."
The continued existence of the writing on the paper seemed to indicate that yes, it was.
"What kind of question is that?"
The kind of question, it appeared, that would not go away simply by being glared at.
After a few thoughtful seconds, Dale scrawled an inkblotty: I don't know who any of them are. It seemed a useful loophole.
5. If you are pushing to be in:
She skimmed down the list of possible... whatevers, and didn't have a clue what any of them meant. Just to be safe, she decided to answer all of them. They all sounded as cracked as each other.
A. Slytherin - please state the clever, witty name of the bar in which you bartend, in the dark.
"Why would I bartend in the dark?" she wondered aloud. "Uh..."
The Bluebottle, she wrote at last. Whether it was witty or not was up to whoever had written the questions; she'd admit that she wasn't the greatest judge of that, though it did seem funny to her.
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.
...
Was it just her, or were the questions getting exponentially weirder?
Whichever he loves more. I don't have the first clue who any of them are, so I'm hardly the best person to ask.
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.
At last, an easy one. Because paperwork comes in faster than it goes out. You could try getting someone to help. Or a really big paper-shredder.
D. Hufflepuff – Prove you are not useless.
Dale grinned. Because where I come from, if you don't have a working car you're pretty much screwed. People can give or take artists and actors and so on, but they'll always need mechanics.
She felt that summed it up fairly well.
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.
...Well, she got from the context that being 'squibbed' was a bad thing, but it still struck her as annoying to expect a perfect stranger to have to bribe their way out of having it done to them. So she frowned at the paper, and poked it with the quill, sending yet another blot spreading across its surface.
It'd suck to start making enemies about the place, though. She still didn't know where the hell she was, or what had happened to her to get her here and in one piece.
Thus: If you have a broken car or bike or something, I can fix it, she conceded. If I can find my tools, or if you have some.
Who was going to be reading this, anyway?
"I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. D.S.
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. D.S.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. D.S.
One day, marmalade will rule the world."
Blink. Blink.
" ...D.S.?"
The first thing Dale did, when she felt able to move again, was bring her hand quickly to her forehead. Which was whole and smooth and blissfully devoid of, say, blood and bits of brain matter. Not that this state of affairs wasn't infinitely preferable to, you know, having bits of leftover brain sticking out, but it would be nice to know how she had gotten from one state to the other.
She put her hand shakily back down, aware of her own heart dancing away at triple the rate it should be. She didn't try to slow it, though, not yet. It wasn't nearly long enough ago that some unconscious part of her had heard it stop.
On a slightly less urgent note, her iPod had stopped working. That was annoying.
Mental once-over thus completed, Dale gradually became aware of her surroundings: the slightly-too-small chair she was balanced on; the cavernous, castle-like room; the footsteps and murmurs of conversation beyond the walls; the piece of paper rustling loudly as it fluttered in front of her face.
--Wait, what?
--Yes, there was definitely a piece of paper there, with fresh writing shining on it, and a quill in a pot dancing alongside it. What the hell?
1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?
"My favourite cheese?" she said aloud, bewildered. "I die and the first thing I'm asked about is cheese?"
The paper continued to float, unapologetically.
"...Um," said Dale. "All right, what the hell." She captured the paper in one hand and pressed it to a handy table, then retrieved the quill with trepidation. She'd never written with anything more archaic than a Biro: it'd been her brother who was into all that Dungeons-and-Dragons, I-am-Flagon-of-Hemsgard stuff. The paper was covered in blots before she was done, as were the sleeves of her blue overalls, and the landscape in general.
Cheddar, I guess. Strong cheddar. But not the dry, stinky kind. Because there's no gormet cheesemonger in Bozeman.
2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?
Again with the brain-flailing. What the...?
Barney, she scritched out hesitantly. Though to be brutally honest, it wasn't so much a considered decision as the first one that popped into her head.
3. What time is it where you are?
She glanced at her wrist out of habit, but there was no watch there, and hadn't been for a month or more. The ticking was too distracting. But she did remember it being late, and the moon almost high enough to see by.
A little after midnight.
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.
"...You're not serious."
The continued existence of the writing on the paper seemed to indicate that yes, it was.
"What kind of question is that?"
The kind of question, it appeared, that would not go away simply by being glared at.
After a few thoughtful seconds, Dale scrawled an inkblotty: I don't know who any of them are. It seemed a useful loophole.
5. If you are pushing to be in:
She skimmed down the list of possible... whatevers, and didn't have a clue what any of them meant. Just to be safe, she decided to answer all of them. They all sounded as cracked as each other.
A. Slytherin - please state the clever, witty name of the bar in which you bartend, in the dark.
"Why would I bartend in the dark?" she wondered aloud. "Uh..."
The Bluebottle, she wrote at last. Whether it was witty or not was up to whoever had written the questions; she'd admit that she wasn't the greatest judge of that, though it did seem funny to her.
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.
...
Was it just her, or were the questions getting exponentially weirder?
Whichever he loves more. I don't have the first clue who any of them are, so I'm hardly the best person to ask.
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.
At last, an easy one. Because paperwork comes in faster than it goes out. You could try getting someone to help. Or a really big paper-shredder.
D. Hufflepuff – Prove you are not useless.
Dale grinned. Because where I come from, if you don't have a working car you're pretty much screwed. People can give or take artists and actors and so on, but they'll always need mechanics.
She felt that summed it up fairly well.
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.
...Well, she got from the context that being 'squibbed' was a bad thing, but it still struck her as annoying to expect a perfect stranger to have to bribe their way out of having it done to them. So she frowned at the paper, and poked it with the quill, sending yet another blot spreading across its surface.
It'd suck to start making enemies about the place, though. She still didn't know where the hell she was, or what had happened to her to get her here and in one piece.
Thus: If you have a broken car or bike or something, I can fix it, she conceded. If I can find my tools, or if you have some.
Who was going to be reading this, anyway?
"I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. D.S.
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. D.S.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. D.S.
One day, marmalade will rule the world."
Blink. Blink.
" ...D.S.?"
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no subject
Date: 2007-07-25 10:51 am (UTC)She blinked at him, because what do you say in answer to something like that?
Dale settled for the handy, all purpose: "...Good for you." Not unfriendly in tone, but still with a healthy side-order of 'huh?'
no subject
Date: 2007-07-25 02:47 pm (UTC)He nodded for a few long more seconds, looking Dale over again as if he was just understanding this situation. ...Wow, she was covered in a lot of gunk. He couldn't help but wrinkle his nose a little, and tilt his head. "Do you, uh. You want some antibacterial stuff? Cuz, I mean, I got it!" Not that he was insinuating that she was yucky or anything. ...Nope. ...He was a professional.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-25 02:58 pm (UTC)She gave him a blank look for a couple of seconds, then started to chuckle hoarsely. "It's just a bit of grease, I've been working in the ga--"
And broke off suddenly, looking quickly down at herself with a frankly terrified expression. But there was no blood on her clothes, or in her hair when she patted at it, or on the hands doing the patting. It was like she came here from before it even happened. (But she remembered it.)
She took a steadying breath, and stilled her face. Nothing to see here! Totally normal and in no way freaked out! "...in the garage. Just now. It's only grease and oil."
no subject
Date: 2007-07-25 03:22 pm (UTC)SHE WAS LOOKING AT HER HANDS. Doug suddenly stopped, all of his muscles freezing as he crouched down a bit in anticipation. What? Why? Was she a mutant?! Were bugs pouring through her veins, threatening to bust out at any minute and go on a brain-eating spree? HE LIKED HIS BRAIN WHERE IT WAS, THANK YOU.
She looked back up, all calmed, but it was too late - Doug was looking practically off the freaking wall. "Right, just grease and oil, what a lovely sort of situation to be in, don't you think? I think. AND I CERTAINLY LIKE TO THINK KEEP THE BUGS AWAY," he blurted out, all in one long string of words, eyes widening at Dale's palms.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-25 03:33 pm (UTC)"Dammit..." Dale clapped her hands to her ears, grimacing as Doug's voice stabbed through her head. That last bit had been rather too sudden and too close to a shout for comfort. The look she gave him was pure tooth-gritted 'what the hell'.
Bloody ears. Bloody headaches. Bloody strange psycho men shouting about bugs. "...What bugs?"
no subject
Date: 2007-07-25 03:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-27 10:36 am (UTC)nextdying day, or claim it was only because of having the weirdest day (week, month) of her life, but she did look for bugs.Quickly, though, she returned to staring at him, hands half-raised in case he started shouting again. "...Are you drunk?"
no subject
Date: 2007-07-27 10:32 pm (UTC)Um.
"Drunk?!" He repeated the word with slight outrage, jumping about a mile at the accusation. Not a shout - she didn't seem to like shouting. "No, although I did have a nice cup of orange juice earlier." No, really. It was delicious.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-28 07:43 pm (UTC)"That's nice for you," she tells him in the kind of voice usually reserved for excitable toddlers. "Was it very tasty?" It should be noted that her hands were still slightly up, just in case he took it upon himself to shake the imaginary bugs out of her or something.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-29 03:22 am (UTC)Anyway. He shrugged, and suddenly brightened out of nowhere. "So! Where you wanna go?"
no subject
Date: 2007-07-29 11:03 am (UTC)"...I wouldn't mind directions to a bathroom, if this place has them." Hopefully the castle's Medieval feel wouldn't continue through to the plumbing.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-29 03:58 pm (UTC)HoochDoug is crazy. Not that he wasn't immune to the strange looks by this point in his game.Bathrooms! Hey, something he knew! "Oh, they're all over the place! There's one on, like, every floor. Well, at least the guys' bathrooms - I'm not really sure where the girls' ones are. You'd have to ask some other girl, I think."
Or Dean Winchester."There's even this one place that if you walk by it a couple times and you're thinking that you really gotta pee, a bathroom appears!"no subject
Date: 2007-07-29 06:12 pm (UTC)She was still a little cautious, but this begged further investigation.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-29 06:17 pm (UTC)"Well, I mean. No. I don't think so," Doug replied in earnest, contemplating the question a moment and tilting his head. "'Cause I definitely walked by once and there was a whole room of Krisy Kreme donuts and God almighty I had most definitely been having a craving for just that. Before." Right. It was a cool story. To him.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-29 06:25 pm (UTC)Hey, that was a pretty cool story. And who doesn't have cravings for Krispy Kremes, honestly?
Dale wondered if the room would oblige her with a large, thick pair of earmuffs, but decided against voicing that thought. Instead, she settled for an impressed: "Now that's a room I wouldn't mind finding. Or do all the rooms here do weird stuff like that?" She glanced around briefly, as if expecting the sorting room to have... pulled a rabbit out of a hat, or something.
no subject
Date: 2007-07-29 08:06 pm (UTC)Did all of the...? "Nuh-uh," he replied with a shake of his head, scratching at the side of it. "I don't think so, anyway. I mean, there's these house elf things that run in and BAM!" Much flailing. "They can get you anything you want! But, otherwise... Not really."
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Date: 2007-07-30 04:23 pm (UTC)"Elves?" she repeated, feeling that she was overdosing rather on surprise today. Though after wizard schools in magic castles she supposed she should've expected them. "Sounds like I'm getting the whole fairytale package, here."
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Date: 2007-07-31 03:35 am (UTC)"Yeah, I mean, it's totally cool!" he squeaked, grinning widely, arms flying into the air in excitement. "Magic! And... I'm a wizard!" Pause. "Like Gandalf!" Which he was incredibly excited about. "Which means you're a witch!" Uh. Uh. "Like." Pause. "Glinda?"
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Date: 2007-07-31 01:19 pm (UTC)The second part of his sentence was sinking in, turning her expression pretty worried. If it wasn't true, then why else would she have turned up here? And if it was -- God, what if learning magic was like the hearing all over again?
no subject
Date: 2007-07-31 03:08 pm (UTC)Gosh. Why wouldn't he be? Just because he carried around a fanny pack didn't mean he wasn't a wizard. It was time to switch strategies. "Hey, you think if I helped you fix a car or something, that would be totally manly?"
no subject
Date: 2007-08-01 11:06 am (UTC)The question--
--the question make her blink at him for a moment, before laughing. "Depends," she told him, amused. "Would you have the first idea how to fix it?"
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Date: 2007-08-01 05:39 pm (UTC)"I... don't really, no!" Doug admitted, shoulders slumping a bit as he scratched at his head. "But, I mean, you could teach me, right? Because Dr. Cox said I can't have my pager back until I do something manly, and even though I fought off a boggart! He said I had to film it. So. Fixing a car? Would that be, you know. MAJOR man points?"
no subject
Date: 2007-08-02 02:07 pm (UTC)'Major man points'? She grinned broadly. "I'm told it would." Okay, this was totally a challenge, and she continued talking with a hint of a tease in her voice. "But learning to fix an engine is long and gruelling work-- sure you're up to it?"
no subject
Date: 2007-08-03 10:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-05 12:12 pm (UTC)Another thing she couldn't help was suddenly imagining her own body on a coroner's slab. Uurgh. That prompted a shiver.
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