Application for Victoria Metcalf (Due South)

[victoriametcalf.livejournal.com]

((Done with permission from the relevant DS-muns.))



There weren't a lot of things that could surprise her anymore. More was the pity, really; life was supposed to be one big wonderland ride, full of unexpected moments. But once you figured out the little secrets, once you'd peeked behind the curtain and seen up the dress of the wizard, it all got a little too mundane.

Victoria Metcalf strode into the Sorting Room, bag in hand, every hair in place, thanks to the washroom in the train station, coat clutched tightly around her. She was always cold, it seemed, but at least she could blame the Scottish winter for it now. She walked in and she didn't blink when the quill started writing out her answers for her, didn't show a flicker of surprise at the unusual questions. Because even if you didn't know what was going on, you had to act as if you did.

1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?

Voice smooth and with a calculated edge of whimsy, Victoria tapped the edge of the table with one finger and said, "Is it out of place if I say whatever you use for baked macaroni and cheese? I know that I'm probably supposed to say something like Brie or Royal Blue Stilton, but I guess I just have simple tastes," she smiled, a little shyly, and shrugged.

2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?

A little blink, a head tilt, the slightest widening of her eyes and Victoria looked up at the room, confused. "I'm sorry," she said, tone apologetic. "I'm afraid I don't understand the question."

3. What time is it where you are?

Pushing back the sleeve of her black coat, Victoria peered down at a simple gold watch before shaking the cuff back down over her wrist.

"Quarter past three."

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.

For a moment, she was quiet. Then, head tilting back a little to expose the curve of a pale neck, teeth flashing slightly between upturned lips, Victoria laughed. There was really nothing more to say to that.

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.

"The Purple Rose." The answer came a little too quickly and Victoria shrugged, pushing her finger slowly along the top of the desk, eyes lowered to watch its path. "I like the flower."

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.

This elicited another laugh, though this one was slightly bitter. Pausing, formulating her response, Victoria tapped her nail against the wood lightly. A frown creased her forehead just for a second before smoothing out, and she answered quietly, "In Alaska, there's a legend of a race of giants who once inhabited the land. There was a woman who loved a warrior, and he loved her. But on the day they were set to be married, a battle broke out, and he had to leave her. So the woman lay down by the river to wait for him. She fell asleep, and when the news came that her love had died, no one in the village had the heart to wake her."

Victoria took a breath, smiling sadly. "She's there even now. Never stirring, turned to stone, still waiting." One slim shoulder lifted slightly and she looked up. "I supposed Harry should be with the one that he'd turn to stone without."

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.

Wrinkling her nose a little, Victoria waved her hand. "Oh, I'm worthless at paperwork, really. I suppose it's just one of those things."

D. Hufflepuff – Prove you are not useless.

"Ah." Leaning back a little, as if she'd been waiting for this question, Victoria smoothed her coat over her knees as she thought. "Well, how would one prove that, really? You'll probably have to take my word for it, no matter what I say. Unless," she chuckled a little, amused, "you're running background checks on my answers."

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.

Reaching into her pocket, Victoria smoothly pulled out a pocketbook. "So, this is where I write a check?" she asked innocently. "I was lead to believe that there was no tuition, but I can manage a small donation. Or..." She paused, considering. "Well, I do have a few books with me. And I'm a decent cook, if you wanted something homemade? Other than that," she spread her arms a little and smiled awkwardly, "I'm sorry, I don't know what else to offer."

"I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. ___VM_________
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. ___VM________.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. _____VM______.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. ____VM_________"

Comments

[themountie.livejournal.com]

Fraser had been off-duty for over two full months now, and although he was still struggling with constant boredom, he was finally beginning to appreciate what a little time off could do. For example, normally at this time of day he'd be patrolling the castle, or filling out a report to the Consulate -- instead, he had decided to take a walk down to Hogsmeade. And that was his only plan for the day, really: a nice, relaxing walk, a night in, maybe hang out with Ray and listen to the Wireless for a bit. Quiet. Peaceful.

Little did he know what he was about to be in for.

He was near the Sorting Room, intending to walk past, not planning on going in at all, when he heard a distant voice that made him stop in his tracks. He hadn't heard it in two years, and it came to him through thick stone walls, but that didn't matter: he would have recognized it anywhere, at any time, across a thousand lifetimes or more. It pinned him to the spot, stunned and reeling.

And then the next thing he knew he was sprinting down the hall, flying towards the Sorting Room, skidding as he turned the corner and shoved the door open. He couldn't believe it -- it was impossible -- he'd never dreamed he'd see her again, and yet there she was just as if she'd never left, just as she always was, his

"Victoria."

He stared at her from the doorway, frozen, her name faint on his lips.

[victoriametcalf.livejournal.com]

It wasn't that she was surprised to see him. Even though she hadn't known he was here, even though she'd thought him dead, it was Ben. Her Ben. And of course he would find her, because he always found her. It was only a matter of time.

Victoria stared, lips parted slightly, wonderment and hurt and so much past flickering across her eyes before it was gone and it was just her. Looking back at Fraser as if he'd suddenly just given her warmth in the middle of a storm, hope when everything was gone.

One step forward, then, one tiny step and she smiled at him. Small, fragile, and all of her breath caught somewhere in her lungs.

"Ben."

Her Ben.

[themountie.livejournal.com]

"I."

It had been so long since he'd last seen her, and so much had happened since then, but all that time and distance meant nothing. The sight of her erased everything that had happened since their last moments together and instantly he was not in the Sorting Room, not in Scotland, but shivering on a train platform, staring at the stars and the non-existent snow and feeling the icy hand of death dragging at him. He felt the bullet in his back twinge and swallowed.

"I--" he tried again, his voice wavering. "You found me." When he hadn't died and she still hadn't come back, he'd had to find a way to go on without her; and over time, the thought that she might return had slowly faded. That she would find him here, after he'd spent all that time in Chicago, was absurd, but she had found him, and that was all that mattered.

What they would do now that she had was another question entirely.

((I totally failed in the last tag -- that "two years" is supposed to be "three years." Whoops. Fraser's not the only one who forgot how long it's been. :P))

[kill-voldemort.livejournal.com]

As much as Harry Potter hated getting undue attention from people, he had to admit that he was often rather curious about people's answers to Question 5B. The question was so stupid, so absurd, that at some point he had decided the only thing he could do was be amused at the question and the odd variety of answers people gave to it. Anything other reaction and he'd probably end up in a bed at St Mungo's, babbling about fruitcakes and U-NO-POO. Or something.

And the question also typically provided him with a good conversation starter -- something quite helpful for a boy whose opening gambit would otherwise have been something along the lines of, "Hi."

He walked up to Victoria and said, "Right. So...I'm Harry Potter. And now I'm a bit confused, because there once was a situation where I had a good chance of being turned to stone." He was referring to the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, of course. "And that probably would have happened had Fawkes the phoenix not suddenly appeared out of nowhere and pecked out the eyes of the giant snake that was going to look at me and turn me to stone. So..." He scratched his head. "Are you saying that I should get together with Fawkes? That's...sort of creepy."

Not to mention gay. (Not that there was anything wrong with that!) If Harry were going to date a phoenix, it would have to be a girl one.

[victoriametcalf.livejournal.com]

A quick little incredulous laugh was Victoria's immediate response and she studied Harry through slightly narrowed eyes as if she was trying to determine if he was making fun of her. But he seemed earnest so she finally shrugged, a half smile creeping across her face. "It's, ah, not literal. I mean, I...wasn't aware you could actually turn people to stone."

Her contacts had told her this place was weird, but...wow.

"Where I used to live, just outside of Anchorage, Alaska, there's a mountain. It looks like a lady, sleeping." Victoria moved her hand to sketch a vague outline, a mound for the head, another for breasts, and then a long smooth line interrupted by a bump for feet. "So the natives, a long time ago, when they were settling there, made up stories for why the land was the way it was. A lot of the legends are about a race of giants who carved out the mountains."

Victoria let her hand fall with a little smile. "What I meant was you should be with the person you couldn't stand to be without. The person you'd rather wait a thousand lifetimes for than go on without them." She gave Harry a once over, teasingly appraising him. "I don't know, you might be too young to understand that yet."

[kill-voldemort.livejournal.com]

Harry had learnt to take things quite literally. In a place like Hogwarts, one had to. Threats such as "I'll hex your teeth into jelly!" were not idle warnings!

He was relieved that Victoria wasn't suggesting that he commit bestiality, although it wasn't as though he had been about to take her advice even if she had. But it was good to know that she wasn't mental, at least about that one thing.

The onceover, however...

"Hey! I'm nineteen! And I've got a girlfriend whom I very much -- " He cut himself off, deciding that he didn't need to defend himself so vehemently to a total stranger. "What I mean is that that sort of person is their sister. Which the application conveniently doesn't mention."

Not that Harry would have wanted that, either. He did his best to be a private person, even if the media was always conspiring against him!

[charlesmacaulay.livejournal.com]

"Macaroni and cheese?" Charles Macaulay set down the application and grinned. "What, no champagne wishes and caviar dreams?"

He leaned in, not close enough to intrude on her personal space, just close enough to seem as though he were sharing a secret, and confided: "They're not all they're cracked up to be, I'll agree. Champagne, caviar, Brie. I'd take my Nana's macaroni and cheese any day too."

[victoriametcalf.livejournal.com]

Inclining her head slightly to share in the secret, Victoria smiled sweetly. "I never really thought champagne was much good for every day, to be honest."

Cool, slim fingers were held out to shake his hand in greeting and she studied Charles with a frank stare. "Victoria Metcalf," she introduced herself. "And perhaps we should start a club? Closeted lovers of macaroni and cheese?"

[charlesmacaulay.livejournal.com]

He shook her hand -- his own hand warm, dry, his handshake properly firm. "Charles Macaulay. Good to meet you. And it's not so much what we do like as what we don't see the big fuss about," Charles countered. Not considering himself gay by any stretch of the imagination, he didn't have the kneejerk reaction to that word closeted that someone like Francis might have shown. It just didn't register with him.

Time was, he'd have been happy to drink champagne every day. Champagne, or Wild Turkey, or that nasty kosher wine Richard dragged out of the dorm fridge that one time, or maybe Nyquil in a pinch. "The thing is, when you're drinking champagne every day, after a while you forget what it is you're drinking, because it all tastes the same."

[charlesofdensen.livejournal.com]

"One can prove their usefulness by a demonstration." Not that Ofdensen's expecting one, but he's just pointing that out.

[victoriametcalf.livejournal.com]

One eyebrow arched up and Victoria's smile became something vaguely amused. As if she'd just found gum on the bottom of a pair of shoes that she'd borrowed from someone she really didn't care for. "You can have a demonstration to prove you aren't worthless? At life? The question didn't bring up a particular skill set after all. It was referring to an overall sense, so I'm really not seeing how you might demonstrate to me how your life is anything but worthless." She gestured to him with one hand. "But please, feel free to try. I'm breathless with anticipation."

[damnfinecupof.livejournal.com]

(( unless the Fraser/Victoria smooch (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1521312.html?thread=77042592#t77042592) was warded, or unless you'd like Cooper not to have seen it, in which case I'll happily delete! ))

Cooper had arrived just in time to witness a most alarming event.

Constable Benton Fraser, his international colleague in law enforcement, seemed to have fallen prey to another supernatural being!

The last time, it had been Cooper's own doppelganger, who'd actually bitten the Constable, much to Coop's own chagrin and embarrassment when he learned of the event.

This time it appeared to be a succubus trying to, yes, eat Fraser's face.

Now, Cooper knew very well that humans could turn into face-eating cats, because Cooper had been one. It stood to reason that face-eating cats could disguise themselves as human. (Coop always did wonder about the Rumpleteazer girl. Also, Miss Swan, who liked catnip far more than any human should.)

He might have leaped in to rescue the Constable had not Fraser wisely and bravely torn himself free of the cat-woman's grasp. Fleeing could be the better part of valor in a case like this. Fraser would have to regroup!

In the meantime, Coop would help out by doing a little groundwork.

He approached the cat-woman with his usual serious-quirky open expression. His coffee mug, as ever, was in his hand. He wouldn't use a notepad much less his handheld tape recorder for this conversation; he didn't want to tip off the cat that he knew something was afoot. He'd rely on his excellent memory.

"Howdy," said Cooper.

[victoriametcalf.livejournal.com]

Greeting Cooper with a polite smile, Victoria nodded. "Hello."

Nothing given away, nothing held back, just the type of greeting you might give anyone waiting for the subway or waiting in line at a cafe. Speaking of which, though...

Eyeing his mug with a quick little quirk of her lips, Victoria then pointed to it. "I'm sorry," she said, sounding slightly apologetic to be bothering him, "but is there some of that around here anywhere? I'm afraid I'm horribly jet lagged, and there is nothing like a good cup of coffee."

[damnfinecupof.livejournal.com]

Cooper's thoughts:

Diane, I've had a thought.

(Yes, sometimes his mental narrative ran the way his tape-recordings would. Addressed to Diane, his secretary at the Bureau. Because in David Lynch's world, FBI agents have their own secretaries. Or else Diane was a figment of Coop's imagination, maybe his anima, the feminine side of himself. Maybe she was both. Who could say? This was a universe in which evil spirits fed off the fear and agony of the living, as manifested in bowls of creamed corn.)

Hypothesis: Addition of roasted catnip to ground coffee before brewing might create a catnip-coffee. Humans would be immune. Face-eating cats would experience euphoria. While the stratagem is somewhat underhanded, the risks of interaction with face-eating cats may just outweigh that factor.

To Victoria he said: "You can get anything you want any hour of the day or night." Except a sweet toothsome mouthful of face. "Think of it as a medieval Scottish diner-equivalent. How about we sit down later for some coffee and a slice of pie?"

[busty-robin.livejournal.com]

Steph had just received (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1522537.html) an owl (allegedly) from Fraser. The owl was very clear, outright forbidding her to go into the sorting room.

Lucky for Fraser, Stephanie had sensibly deduced (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1522537.html?thread=77055849#t77055849) that the letter really meant that she was needed in the sorting room right away.

Steph walked into the sorting room with her wand poking out of her pocket, ready to whip it out dirty! at a moment's notice. Her grappling hook and assorted weaponry were also at arm's reach, safely stowed in her backpack. She was dressed sensibly, in jeans and a black turtleneck, wearing the earrings that Fraser had made himself (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1514404.html?thread=76887972#t76887972) and given to Steph as a Christmas gift.

She was slightly surprised to see no signs of epic explosions, though it didn't show on her face. So it was a more quiet threat, then? Likely the new student.

Whom, naturally, Steph walked up to greet with an outstretched hand and a smile. Hey - handshakes got you more information than threats. Plus, Steph could go ahead and break the woman's arm if the she turned out to be an evil clown in disguise.

"Hiya. Welcome to Hogwarts."

[victoriametcalf.livejournal.com]

A faint smile playing on her lips, Victoria reached out and gave Steph's hand a shake, fingers cold but grip firm enough. "Yes, well..." She kind of looked around and shrugged, arms wide. "I suppose welcome is a good word for it." But it was said with a laugh; clearly though Victoria was intrigued by her new surroundings, it was with more a bemused air of being overwhelmed.

"It's nice to meet you..." she trailed off delicately, studying Steph and waiting for a name to go with the face.

[palewhiteand]

Ruby tilted her head and rubbed her chin. "Alaska," she repeated. "So that's a place somewhere?"

[victoriametcalf.livejournal.com]

Well, that was a stupid and quite possibly pointless question. Victoria tilted up one eyebrow, looking the girl up and down before saying, with mild disdain, "One might say so."

[caprica-6.livejournal.com]

"Your answer to the Gryffindor question is flawed. How would he know which would turn him to stone beforehand?"

[victoriametcalf.livejournal.com]

"It's...it's a metaphor." Victoria was beginning to wonder if she'd wandered into a school comprised of the most literal people on the planet. "It just means that without her lover, she lost the thing that made her human. The thing that made her warm, made her alive. It-it doesn't mean you'll actually turn to stone. You see?"

[lilypotter60.livejournal.com]

Really, Fraser was being quite odd (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1522537.html).

Lily'd stood and watched Victoria for a few minutes, and nothing about the woman seemed to incite the need for some kind of lock down. Merlin, she didn't even have a wand. And no fangs or claws or firey eyes of doom, either. Apparently Fraser had a previously unknown talent for exaggeration.

Walking up to Victoria, Lily held out her hand with a friendly smile. Her eyes took in the slight tenseness about the other woman's mouth, the way Victoria's eyes darted over Lily as if assessing a threat, the slight nervous hunch to her shoulders. Victoria held herself as if expecting, at any time, to have the rug hauled out from under her. As if she was ever so slightly removed from this moment, from this place. Victoria was watching more than she was engaging, and Lily's head went slightly to the side as she recognized where she'd seen that before.

Sirius. When he talked about Azkaban. When he remembered.

Not afraid. Not worried.

Haunted.

"Hello," Lily said, grasping Victoria's cold fingers in her own. "I'm Lily. I'm friends with Ben. He told me you were here. Could I get you some tea? You look cold."

[themountie.livejournal.com]

She couldn't be serious (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1522537.html?thread=77073257#t77073257).

Except that she was Lily, and that meant, in his experience of her, that she absolutely was. She had heard his warnings, she had heard his pleas to stay away from Victoria, and then she had completely rejected them in favor of her own reality and gone right down to the Sorting Room. Which meant that Fraser was hard on her heels. He couldn't let her get there. He couldn't let her talk to Victoria -- it could mean a world of trouble for her, not to mention Ray, about whom she had some potentially dangerous (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1522537.html?thread=77275241#t77275241) information.

Unfortunately, he arrived moments too late. Although he ran the whole way, by the time he made it to the Sorting Room, the two were already in there together. He stared at them from the doorway, his face distraught, his jaw tight. What could he do now? He had to get her away, but to confront her would only make Victoria suspicious. It might even make her target Lily. Fraser was well and truly stuck.

[ugly-old-hat.livejournal.com]

The Hat got down to brass tacks. "Yes, indeed, this is the part where you write a check. Make it payable to the Pickles Fund for Wayward Children."

[victoriametcalf.livejournal.com]

Ah. Well, she'd expected no less, really. Money made the world go round and all that. Victoria pulled out her checkbook with a brief smile. No matter where you went, nothing ever really changed.

...Of course, the request for a 'charitable donation' coming from a talking hat was a...bit different. But other than a quick, darting glance up towards it as she wrote (there had to be...strings or something controlling it, right? Like a marionette?) Victoria appeared unimpressed.

Finishing her signature with a dot of the i, Victoria held out the check. "Always happy to donate to a good cause," she said, vaguely amused.

[ugly-old-hat.livejournal.com]

Your bribe has been pre-accepted! Go get 'em, tiger!

Welcome to Gryffindor!