application for Derkhan Blueday (Perdido Street Station)

[derkhan.livejournal.com]

She came to consciousness in a profoundly unfamiliar room. Stone walls, bare stone floor, rich tapestries on the walls.

In her capacity as art critic for the Beacon, a reputable and legitimate paper of record, Derkhan Blueday would have estimated this setting -- tapestries and all -- to bespeak a desperate hunger for respectability on the proprietors' part. It was a look of deliberate antiquation, the kind of thing favored by money so new it practically bled ink.

However, in her capacity as acting editor of Runagate Rampant, a publication less respectable (indeed, illegal), Derkhan was alive to other possibilities. Evaluating her new surroundings in that light, she speculated that the decor might have been calculated to intimidate detainees, to put them in mind of dungeons and torture chambers.

Surely this was not the Spike? The room seemed far too large. A crawling in the pit of Derkhan's stomach insisted that if this wasn't the Spike, then it was someplace similar in purpose, and she was in deep trouble. She was in deep trouble regardless. So much for her painstaking disguise. Poor compared to what she'd routinely have put on just for the ride from Kelltree to Dog Fenn, but she and her friend spent so much effort on this one, it hurt worse somehow to know it'd failed -- the hair dye, the false scar, the other carefully improvised attempts, best they could manage under the circumstances ...

Derkhan took a series of deep breaths. Composed herself as best she could. Waited for something to happen. It would be a questioning, no doubt, and who knew how much she would actually say? She knew what tactics would be brought to bear, to make her talk.



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

"Are you offering?" She put a brave face on; she had gotten good at that. "I wouldn't say no to a fennel-and-olive salad with crumbled chevre." No need to admit what they must surely already know, that she'd be hungry enough to welcome even the blandest, plainest fare. "Something flavorful, that's the main thing. I prefer the bolder cheeses. They have more character."

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

"A trick question, isn't it? Like asking someone 'are you still beating your wife'?" Derkhan cracked her knuckles. "I'm not equipped for a murderous rampage."

Meekness would not spare her the end she was sure would eventuate, so why feign meekness?

3. What time is it where you are?

"I don't know where I am." A simple enough reply, Derkhan thought.

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.

First murder, now sexual harassment? "Just how many offenses did you plan to pin on me?" The notion of return from the dead gave her a guilty start, however. She hoped she hadn't gone too grey at the words -- or too green; remembering that thing, the avatar the Construct Council had made, didn't do her stomach any good.

Or was this about -- no, it couldn't be; if anything, they'd think she'd been Ben's lover. No smack of deviance there. "I don't harass anyone," said Derkhan, folding her hands primly, hoping that would be 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.

"I don't tend bar there. I'm a patron like anyone else. You know the name already, surely. The Clock and Cockerel." Respectably disreputable, a bar in Salacus Fields, and it was true what Derkhan said. That was where her artist friends, her musician friends, her public associates spent their colorful evenings.

Nothing wrong with that. A known fact of her public life.

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.

A variety of world mythologies? Who in Jabber's name were Harry, Fred, and George? Was this more along the lines of that sexual-harassment question? Harry, Fred, and George, all male names. Derkhan decided not to give them anything remotely like what it seemed they wanted.

"You're familiar with the gods of the vodyanoi? Harry could consult one of the priests of Palgolak. You know the one -- Palgolak, god of knowledge. Represented by a figure in a bathtub, reading. You may have seen the human iconography, in which Palgolak is represented as a short and round human in a bathtub. There are nearly as many human Palgolaki as there are vodyanoi, these days. They say that anything a worshipper of Palgolak reads, the god himself gains that knowledge through the worshipper. That's why they've amassed such an immense library. If Harry asked a Palgolaki priest, he'd soon have all the legal codes regarding marriage right at his fingertips, and all the mythological exempla he could ever want, for that matter."

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.

"Bureaucratic bloat." If they had her name from Ben -- and it was a surety he'd given it up, poor dear man -- then this opinion would not come as a surprise.

D. Hufflepuff – Prove you are not useless.

Without conscious thought or volition, Derkhan's fingers fluttered to the side of her head. To the place where an ear was missing. "I improve the Weave," she muttered, rather bitterly.

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.

At this, Derkhan could only blink. "What in Jabber's name are you going on about? Do you mean to imply I can bribe my way out of this?" Clearly incredulous, she shook her head. "I don't even know what to make of that offer. If it is one. What could I have to offer you?"

Information?

They could have that from her for free. She was sure they wouldn't be letting her go, whether or not they had to force the information out of her. This had to be some effort to induce false hope.

"I can discuss with you the history of the Shintacost Prize."

There. See how they liked that.



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

Comments

[nerdsexgoddess.livejournal.com]

Amaranth was cruising the sorting room. And, while she would have absolutely offered Derkhan a welcome-to-Hogwarts diddling should she wish it, something in the content of the woman's application made her curious.

"Palgolac?" she asked. "He sounds like an interesting deity. I like the combination of knowledge and decadence. And it's certainly a much easier name to pronounce than Amziniphiram, who I think is one of the local gods here." Or, so said the sorting hat.

[derkhan.livejournal.com]

Rumors of depravity among New Crobuzon's political elite were practically old hat, but Derkhan had yet to hear of mandated nudity for attendants in the Spike.

"What sort of uniform is that?" she asked the woman. Palgolak could wait, thank you.

[nerdsexgoddess.livejournal.com]

"Uniform?" Amaranth's eyes gleamed briefly as she thought about the little schoolgirl number she had in her closet back in Hufflepuff, which she hoped nobody knew about. "Oh, this?" She gestured at her S.P.E.W. badge, still pinned to her breast. "I've become very concerned about house elf welfare," she said. "Poor darlings. They're so underappreciated, and I do my part for them. But if it makes you feel better..." She produced her sandwich board from nowhere and put it on.

[cockneysplosive.livejournal.com]

"What about the Shintacost Prize?"

Sounded like something worth stealing.

[derkhan.livejournal.com]

"Well, it's my considered opinion that the judges have an anti-xenian bias. Particularly against khepri. The most extraordinarily accomplished gland-artists in New Crobuzon have entered the competition for years, yet not a single khepri has taken the prize."

Derkhan had every reason to assume her questioners knew what she was talking about.

[cockneysplosive.livejournal.com]

"I see."

He didn't. Although it sounded like it was more an idea than a tangible item.

"Are the gland-artists any good?"

[maid-brienne.livejournal.com]

Most of the answers to the questions the woman gave made little sense to Brienne, but the maid of Tarth had to admire her spirit and her defiance.

"How came you to lose the ear?" she asked, one hand going to her own cheek and the vivid scar left there by Biter's teeth in an unconscious gesture.

[derkhan.livejournal.com]

Derkhan looked up, surprised. The woman's light mail matched the dungeon/castle theme of their surroundings (too theatrical for the Spike, Derkhan had decided), so she was likely part of ... whatever this was. One of the people who ran it, or a servant of those people. But it was certainly not standard militia dress. And the question was not one whose answer would be of much use to anyone.

"The Weaver took it," she said. "I don't know why."

[maid-brienne.livejournal.com]

"Who is the Weaver?" Brienne asked. It did not seem a particularly bloodthirsty sort of name, but... worlds were different, and perhaps the woman would explain the significance of the name, since it had come up in the application.

[3rd-retirement.livejournal.com]

"How many offenses did you expect to have pinned on you? You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to. I don't need your information." Rene Mathis knew how important information was, and what lengths people would go for it. He could sympathize with her plight. Guilty of some things, surely, but was she expecting to be charged with the right crimes, or merely the crimes her captors wanted her to have committed?

[derkhan.livejournal.com]

Aha. Good-cop-bad-cop; this was going to be the one who pretended to be on her side. She thought. She couldn't actually be sure. She never had been interrogated before.

"Whatever's convenient, I imagine," she said, too tired to put up a front. "Whatever seems like it'll stick. This has got to be a public relations nightmare for you all," and then she realized the word nightmare was a highly unfortunate choice under the circumstances of said PR mess, and she winced. "You lot must be desperate for any scapegoat you can give to the people, any story you can use to explain what's happened."

[3rd-retirement.livejournal.com]

"I have no idea what story you're talking about," he said truthfully. "I only know what it's like to be accused of something you didn't do. I was accused of being a traitor, when my only crime was having my enemy drop my name at a very inopportune time." It didn't matter if he told her or not. Who would stop him?

Mathis shrugged. "Your crimes and sins are forgiven, in any case. The power of beatus Hogwarts has seen fit to relieve you of any problems you were having."

[dinosaurman.livejournal.com]

"Would you like some cheese?" It wouldn't be a problem to get some. One of the perks of professorship was a house elf at his beck and call. She seemed to be expecting something to happen to her. A lot of people did. However, she seemed prepared to face her trial with a refreshing lack of bullshit. That was a novelty. While Grant knew he lacked the social skills to put her at ease, he could, at least, offer her cheese if she wanted it.

[derkhan.livejournal.com]

"I would." If the man was offering, Derkhan wasn't going to say no. What harm could there be in it? The city militia wouldn't have gone to the trouble of hauling her in here, only to dispatch her quickly with poison.

Though she'd never seen any uniform that entailed a hat like that one.

[dinosaurman.livejournal.com]

That hat had possibly been around more than Amaranth had. It certainly had character, for lack of a better word.

"Do you want the salad, or something more substantial?" He could go for a sandwich, himself.

[blood-and-souls.livejournal.com]

Elric had been stalking the halls, looking sullen and bothering the occasional student with questions regarding the "Hat's dark master" which were met with little more than blank stares. He realized he was passing the strange room at which he had first arrived. The idea to lurk in the room until someone arrived occurred. It was possible he might see a manifestation of whatever event it was that brought people to Hogwarts.

He slipped into the room and noticed that someone was already there. He looked suspiciously at the strangely-dressed woman for a moment, but from her look of worry and confusion he thought it likely that she too was an unfortunate victim of this inexplicable nexus.

"Madam, I presume that you have had the misfortune of being abducted by this unusual realm?"

[derkhan.livejournal.com]

Derkhan found herself being addressed -- with uncanny chivalrous delicacy, no less -- by an armed and impressively attired albino.

She might not be blamed for blinking.

"Abducted?" Unusual was right.

[blood-and-souls.livejournal.com]

"Unless you came of your own free will, madam? Some claim to have. This castle appears to have a tendency to abduct unsuspecting victims, bringing them to this plane. Its purpose is mysterious, and thus far unknown to me."

He considered, unsure what it was that was actually doing the abducting, the malevolent (or so he thought) Hat, or some nebulous master controlling the Hat. "I am not sure if it is the castle itself or an entity attached to it. But, the castle emanates an unusual magical field."

[igorofmalaria.livejournal.com]

((Ooc:Wow, the book sounds good. Will change comment if it's godmodding.))

Another Sorting. Igor found a stoic-looking woman in the Sorting Room. She wasn't panicking, but she didn't look comfortable either. His own stomach knotted up from sympathetic tension.

"Do you need anything?" he asked. "Besides the obvious, I mean." He glanced at her application. "I've never heard of fennel or chevre."

[derkhan.livejournal.com]

(( not godmodding at all -- that's a pretty good assessment of her affect, atm. And aww, Igor is a sweetheart. ))

"That's very kind of you," said Derkhan, covertly trying to figure out whether the young man was Remade or a natural hunchback. She didn't see any animal or machine bits grafted onto him ... "Fennel is an herb, and chevre is a soft goat cheese. The man with the odd hat has already ordered me some food, so I'm all set on that front." She paused. "Do you work here?"

[miranda-bnewski.livejournal.com]

Miranda, who had removed her makeup and changed into a simple shirt-and-long-skirt, was curious about the newcomer. She looked like an uptight one, almost as if she expected to be interrogated.

"You're in for a real treat." Her mouth crooked. "They don't let people go, but bribes are easy. All I had to do was a Mexican hat dance for the Hat."
She paused.
"And, yes, I know exactly how loony that sounds."

[derkhan.livejournal.com]

Still sitting on the floor, Derkhan glanced up at the woman. "Are you a dancer, then?" She had the carriage of a dancer, this woman. "A Mexican hat dance -- something folkloric, is it?"

[ugly-old-hat.livejournal.com]

"Ooh, look at all these words you've given me. 'Cockerel'! I haven't heard that one if a very long time, not since dawn at least. And 'Shintacost'. Both are very fun words. Cockerel. Shintacost. Cockerel. Shintacost. Say them, they're fun! Oh, if only I had a mouth, its roof would have a massage tonight!"

The Hat paused, and added with a proud exclamation, "I'm quite a good balancer!"

[derkhan.livejournal.com]

After everything else, after everything profoundly odd she had encountered over the past few months, a talking hat was not the worst of it; and seemed, besides, mostly innocuous.

Or would, except that Elric of Melnibone had warned her in direst tones concerning the sentient headgear and its tendencies. What was it he had said of the Hat? It is an unjust and cruel entity, I believe. And possibly mad. It feels like the forces that rule this place pull us here to serve as toys for their amusement and little more. And of Sparklypoo, Elric had said: I believe that it is either the equivalent of a low caste, or, a cursed one. The hat inflicted it upon me in a rage, and so it cannot mean anything good.

Exhausted and shell-shocked as she was, it took Derkhan a few moments to put two and two together, and to come up with oh godspit this is the Hat they've all been talking about, not just any talking hat.

And the best she could come up with, to say to this tyrannical creature of chaos, was: "Shintacost is a holiday. Do you like cockerels very much?"

Oh, great. Ask the Hat if it likes cock. Brilliant, Dee.

[ugly-old-hat.livejournal.com]

In conclusion, Derkhan Blueday is very much a Gryffindor and I truly didn't throw up a little bit in her hair.

Your bribe has been accepted.

Welcome to Gryffindor!