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(( Long-promised, rather late, but timely, no? Quindar's PB is Kevin Zegers. This app truly is a joint effort. Kisses to all my collaborators. ))
He's the kind of guy who only comes along once a week, or never, depending on your criteria for actual physical proximity. He'll beam his way into your heart, and I'd say real men can't do this, but he's a real man, so clearly they can. He's the kind of real man who eats quiche.
His name is Quindar Ventibuck. (Oh...) An improbable name for an improbable man. He's what they call a 'special person'. So special a whole different set of Olympic Games had to be set up for him and his kind, because it just wasn't fair to pit them against the normal athletes. But you won't find Quindar performing that kind of pole-jump. He's laying low. He's got a mission.
A mission of dire importance. He's driven. You can see it in his eyes, those soulful basset-hound eyes of his, languid yet possessed of a unique fire. You want him to save you. You want him to destroy you. You want to save him from himself. He'll give you coupons for all these things.
He'll take you to a seedy dive where you'll talk about top-secret stuff. Then he'll take you to his sparely furnished studio loft where you'll talk about his inner pain. All night long he'll make your eyes dance and your smile sparkle. In the morning you'll cook together, the way lovers do. Emboldened by his shy compliments, you'll shoot him a casual hip-bump that somehow doesn't manage to land you on the floor or send you careening into the oven door, because everything he touches is transmuted to pure sexiness and that includes you. He'll turn to you and give you the smile that launched a thousand squees ... and then skewer you in the heart with a meat fork. After that you'll be filet de fangirl, but hey, he did tell you that you looked so good he could eat you alive.
And now, for no good reason at all, he's at Hogwarts!
1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?
Quindar broods over this question.
"I'd say a good American artisanal cheese, like Carr Valley Gran Canaria. It's a complex cheese, I mean like really complex. The milk of three ruminant animals is in it: bovine, ovine, and caprine. You can taste the evolutionary history of these animals in the cheese itself. I'd suggest pairing it with a full-bodied red wine, say a 2005 Starfire Lodi Zinfandel ..."
He clears his throat. "Not that I got that idea from a food blog or anything. Y'know, Mario Batali hates food blogs."
2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?
Scowling darkly, Quindar refuses to answer this question. Ostentatiously he starts playing around with his iPod.
3. What time is it where you are?
This question seems to make Quindar jumpy. Probably the only thing that can calm him down is the love of a good woman, or a particularly rousing session of buttsex.
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.
Still a little jumpy, Quindar settles down some when this question is posed. You can almost see the gears turning over in his pretty, pretty head. "First I'd need DNA testing performed on each member of the Order of the Phoenix. I'd be looking for certain genetic markers. As long as none of the patrons at my job get nacho cheese on the printouts, I should be able to give you an answer fairly quickly."
Nacho cheese notwithstanding, thinking about his job gives Quindar a curious sense of satisfaction. His lips curve in a dreamy smile. It makes you want to just pinch his cheeks and babble nonsense talk at him, which would be really seductive. Or you could run your fingers through the dark wings of his gleaming shower-fresh hair ... Oh, right, he's talking again. "The bloodlines of wizarding families really deserve closer study," he continues on, much mollified by his own inner visions. "There must be at least one member of the Order who's truly ... special. Special enough for me to ... harass."
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.
Quindar gives a nonchalant shrug, the movement almost catlike in its grace, yet puppylike in its cuteness. "Name for a bar? 'Waffles'. They'll eat it up." Yet the name of the bar where he actually works, he won't tell you.
B. Gryffindor ā Debate whether Harry should ultimately end up married to Fred or George. Use examples from a variety of world mythologies to bolster your argument.
"Harry shouldn't marry Fred or George. Neither of them would be able to truly understand his inner pain. All he wants to do is help people, really help them! Why is that so hard to understand?" Manfully he represses his tears.
C. Ravenclaw ā You guys are supposed to be smart. Explain why my desk is inundated with paperwork at all times, even though Iām constantly disposing of it.
A thoughtful, soulful look brimming with deep emotion. "Paperwork ... is it a gift, or a curse? You can track so many things through paperwork ... some of which don't want to be tracked."
He could mull this question for hours. Quick, ask him another before he freezes this way!
D. Hufflepuff ā Prove you are not useless.
Oh, now this is too much. Accuse him, Quindar Ventibuck, of uselessness? After all he's been through? After how far he's come?
"I. Am. Not. Useless." The words come through gritted teeth in a low growl. Then he sags against the wall with a supplicating look. "Or maybe I am ... I don't know."
Clearly Quindar could benefit from some serious psychotherapy.
He seems to have made a decision. Throwing care to the winds, he leans close to confide in you. "I'm working on a project. I am destined to become the apotheosis of human evolution. The perfect body. In order to do this, I have to kill people. The more people I kill, the hotter I become. It doesn't matter whether the people I kill are themselves physically attractive in our culture's terms. Their vital energy fuels my transformation. With it, they make possible my destiny."
It's nothing you haven't read before in a thousand potboilers and Thomas Harris knockoffs, but somehow when Quindar says it, the idea doesn't sound like a retread at all. It sounds thrillingly original. Also you really want his body.
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.
Now this he's got covered. "I can make you a drink, any drink. Anything from a slippery nipple to a Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster." But some people don't drink, teetotaling fools, and they'll want something too ... "Or you can touch my hair," he adds grudgingly. He hopes they won't want to touch his hair too much. It might get oily. He doesn't know if his tormented heart could stand the strain. He might need to be fortified with make-outs.
"I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. too sexy for your application
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. too emo to sign this.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. stop trying to distract me from my Herbal Essences time.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. wouldn't you like to smear marmalade on my pecs? too bad, you can't"
He's the kind of guy who only comes along once a week, or never, depending on your criteria for actual physical proximity. He'll beam his way into your heart, and I'd say real men can't do this, but he's a real man, so clearly they can. He's the kind of real man who eats quiche.
His name is Quindar Ventibuck. (Oh...) An improbable name for an improbable man. He's what they call a 'special person'. So special a whole different set of Olympic Games had to be set up for him and his kind, because it just wasn't fair to pit them against the normal athletes. But you won't find Quindar performing that kind of pole-jump. He's laying low. He's got a mission.
A mission of dire importance. He's driven. You can see it in his eyes, those soulful basset-hound eyes of his, languid yet possessed of a unique fire. You want him to save you. You want him to destroy you. You want to save him from himself. He'll give you coupons for all these things.
He'll take you to a seedy dive where you'll talk about top-secret stuff. Then he'll take you to his sparely furnished studio loft where you'll talk about his inner pain. All night long he'll make your eyes dance and your smile sparkle. In the morning you'll cook together, the way lovers do. Emboldened by his shy compliments, you'll shoot him a casual hip-bump that somehow doesn't manage to land you on the floor or send you careening into the oven door, because everything he touches is transmuted to pure sexiness and that includes you. He'll turn to you and give you the smile that launched a thousand squees ... and then skewer you in the heart with a meat fork. After that you'll be filet de fangirl, but hey, he did tell you that you looked so good he could eat you alive.
And now, for no good reason at all, he's at Hogwarts!
1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?
Quindar broods over this question.
"I'd say a good American artisanal cheese, like Carr Valley Gran Canaria. It's a complex cheese, I mean like really complex. The milk of three ruminant animals is in it: bovine, ovine, and caprine. You can taste the evolutionary history of these animals in the cheese itself. I'd suggest pairing it with a full-bodied red wine, say a 2005 Starfire Lodi Zinfandel ..."
He clears his throat. "Not that I got that idea from a food blog or anything. Y'know, Mario Batali hates food blogs."
2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?
Scowling darkly, Quindar refuses to answer this question. Ostentatiously he starts playing around with his iPod.
3. What time is it where you are?
This question seems to make Quindar jumpy. Probably the only thing that can calm him down is the love of a good woman, or a particularly rousing session of buttsex.
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.
Still a little jumpy, Quindar settles down some when this question is posed. You can almost see the gears turning over in his pretty, pretty head. "First I'd need DNA testing performed on each member of the Order of the Phoenix. I'd be looking for certain genetic markers. As long as none of the patrons at my job get nacho cheese on the printouts, I should be able to give you an answer fairly quickly."
Nacho cheese notwithstanding, thinking about his job gives Quindar a curious sense of satisfaction. His lips curve in a dreamy smile. It makes you want to just pinch his cheeks and babble nonsense talk at him, which would be really seductive. Or you could run your fingers through the dark wings of his gleaming shower-fresh hair ... Oh, right, he's talking again. "The bloodlines of wizarding families really deserve closer study," he continues on, much mollified by his own inner visions. "There must be at least one member of the Order who's truly ... special. Special enough for me to ... harass."
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.
Quindar gives a nonchalant shrug, the movement almost catlike in its grace, yet puppylike in its cuteness. "Name for a bar? 'Waffles'. They'll eat it up." Yet the name of the bar where he actually works, he won't tell you.
B. Gryffindor ā Debate whether Harry should ultimately end up married to Fred or George. Use examples from a variety of world mythologies to bolster your argument.
"Harry shouldn't marry Fred or George. Neither of them would be able to truly understand his inner pain. All he wants to do is help people, really help them! Why is that so hard to understand?" Manfully he represses his tears.
C. Ravenclaw ā You guys are supposed to be smart. Explain why my desk is inundated with paperwork at all times, even though Iām constantly disposing of it.
A thoughtful, soulful look brimming with deep emotion. "Paperwork ... is it a gift, or a curse? You can track so many things through paperwork ... some of which don't want to be tracked."
He could mull this question for hours. Quick, ask him another before he freezes this way!
D. Hufflepuff ā Prove you are not useless.
Oh, now this is too much. Accuse him, Quindar Ventibuck, of uselessness? After all he's been through? After how far he's come?
"I. Am. Not. Useless." The words come through gritted teeth in a low growl. Then he sags against the wall with a supplicating look. "Or maybe I am ... I don't know."
Clearly Quindar could benefit from some serious psychotherapy.
He seems to have made a decision. Throwing care to the winds, he leans close to confide in you. "I'm working on a project. I am destined to become the apotheosis of human evolution. The perfect body. In order to do this, I have to kill people. The more people I kill, the hotter I become. It doesn't matter whether the people I kill are themselves physically attractive in our culture's terms. Their vital energy fuels my transformation. With it, they make possible my destiny."
It's nothing you haven't read before in a thousand potboilers and Thomas Harris knockoffs, but somehow when Quindar says it, the idea doesn't sound like a retread at all. It sounds thrillingly original. Also you really want his body.
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.
Now this he's got covered. "I can make you a drink, any drink. Anything from a slippery nipple to a Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster." But some people don't drink, teetotaling fools, and they'll want something too ... "Or you can touch my hair," he adds grudgingly. He hopes they won't want to touch his hair too much. It might get oily. He doesn't know if his tormented heart could stand the strain. He might need to be fortified with make-outs.
"I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. too sexy for your application
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. too emo to sign this.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. stop trying to distract me from my Herbal Essences time.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. wouldn't you like to smear marmalade on my pecs? too bad, you can't"
no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 07:10 pm (UTC)Beaming as much as it's possible for a teenage angel girl with a sudden inexplicable crush to beam without actually glowing, Lola approached Quindar, to ask a question that was suddenly burning inside her...
"What conditioner do you use?" she breathed.
Because... fluffy hair! She was itching to touch it. Ruffle it! Her hands were definitely clean too, so the worst thing that could happen was her vibes unintentionally zapping him with happy feelings.
no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 07:25 pm (UTC)He fixed Lola with a smoldering yet piquantly emo soulful gaze.
"Alojoba," he said, softly.
no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 07:57 pm (UTC)"Alojoba," she squeaked, and cursed herself for doing so. "Yeah. Good word." Okay, deep breaths, Sanchez... "Your hair looks very nice," she said slowly. "All silky and... smooth..." And it probably smelled real nice, too. Lola sighed dreamily. "I wish mine could be that."
She could never have hair like his! If that wasn't a reason to be emo... There was a brief second of angsty feelings from Lola's side, and then, because she was Lola after all, she perked right back up. "Can I touch it?" she asked hopefully, dark eyes widened.
no subject
Date: 2007-08-15 09:44 pm (UTC)He shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at the floor. A girl like her, what would she want with a guy like Quindar? He could only bring her pain and hot waffles.
"Yeah, you can touch it, I guess. If you want." From beneath lowered lashes, he shot her a pleading look. Please, baby, please. Don't hurt me.
no subject
Date: 2007-08-16 05:44 am (UTC)Lola tentatively reached out and carefully combed her fingers through his hair. Ohhh... She sighed again, her breath brushing against his silky locks. "Thanks," she whispered, both in response to his compliment and to him allowing her to touch
the precioushis hair.Lola was trying, really hard, not to swoon, and she also battled the urge of flinging her arms around him and hug him and squeeze him
and name him Fluffyand bring him home with her... Which Dwight would probably protest to. Oh well.Her cheeks were burning now. She was pretty sure one could fry an egg on her face. Quick, say something clever and witty! "Um..." murmured Lola, fingers unable to stop stroking his hair. "So... Wha-what brings you here?"
Since you're asking, no, she didn't quite read through the application, being way too distracted by Quindar's alluring features.
no subject
Date: 2007-08-16 09:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-19 08:59 pm (UTC)"Er...sorry, I haven't really got any inner pain. And I'm not sure I really want to help people so much as...I dunno, I mean, I suppose I just spend a lot of time keeping evil genocidal dark lords from trying to kill me and the people I care about, but I'm not really sure it's philanthropy that I'm practising...." He trailed off, feeling all confused all of a sudden.
Until he took a good look at Quindar's hair. Which was mesmerising. More so than the voices he had heard behind the veil in the Department of Mysteries, more so even than what he had seen in the Mirror of Erised. Slowly, in sort of a daze, he picked up one finger and pointed it at the pretty coiffed locks. "How...how do you get it to stay like that? Mine just...sticks up." Self-consciously, he raised his other hand and fruitlessly attempted to flatten his hair down against his head.
no subject
Date: 2007-08-20 04:18 am (UTC)"Nair? Brazilian Wax? Hormone supplements?" She had to know!
squib!
Date: 2007-12-25 10:43 pm (UTC)You have been squibbed!
You must pack your bags and leave the castle immediately!