De-hiatusing post and open RP!

[toujours-sirius.livejournal.com]

It may or may not have been coincidental, but at almost the exact same time, eight figures walked through the front door of Hogwarts and into the Entrance Hall. Well, seven walked. The eighth blibbled.

The godfather, the reluctant hero, and the marshmallow
The figure of Sirius Black cast a tall, lean shadow across the Entrance Hall. One of the shadow's hands rested on the shadow shoulder of a somewhat shorter subject, whose gangly shape was topped with what appeared to be a bird's nest, or perhaps just a head of extremely messy hair. The other hand of the taller shadow rested on a much less defined form. Two short, golf-club-shaped legs could be clearly discerned, but above that, it was unclear where torso gave way to head; the only clue was the outline of a bowler hat on top of the entire structure, and it was firmly on the bowler hat that the hand of Sirius Black's shadow rested. Even more bizarre was the fact that the alignment of the shadow feet of this strange creature gave the distinct impression that it was hovering a couple of feet off the floor as it moved forward with the other two members of the trio.

"Well, Harry," Sirius said with a deep, contented sigh as they entered the castle, "here we are. Home sweet home." With a small smile whose modesty was betrayed by the sheer joy in the glasses-framed green eyes above it, Harry Potter nodded silently, his senses engaged in taking in the familiar sights and smells of the only place he had ever truly seen as his home.

Now Sirius looked down and addressed the strange figure on his other side. "Homsar.... I'm so sorry our quest to find your father did not go as we had hoped." He shook his head sadly. "There are simply too many chipwiches out there in the world, and it would have been impossible for us to locate them all and find out which one is your dad. Millions is a very common surname for ice-cream-filled cookie sandwiches, after all."

Harry reached around behind Sirius and clumsily patted Homsar on what he hoped was one shoulder (and especially not the bowler hat, Merlin, not the bowler hat, for that was Sirius's exclusive territory, and Harry had no desire whatsoever to intrude in his godfather's bizarre sexual relationship with the good professor). He knew what it was like to be fatherless, and so he greatly sympathized.

"DaaaAAAAaaaAAAAaaaAAAA! The results are in, I am NOT the bother! KASHOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Homsar half-shrieked, half-sighed, and his bowler hat drooped down the back of his head. Harry quickly jerked his hand away.

"But don't give up, all right?" continued Sirius. "Lily is still out there, scouring the world, and if anyone can find your father and reunite the two of you, it's her." Or perhaps Maury Povich, but unfortunately Sirius, Harry, and Homsar were unacquainted with the DNA paternity magic that Mr Povich wielded.

"Yeah, Homsar, don't worry, Mum will find him," Harry added. "Meanwhile, we need you here to teach us Arithmancy and, er...maintain order in Ravenclaw." Something like that, at least. He made sure not to bring up the topic of starting the Jeffersons, lest Homsar sink deeper into his funk.

As they got further into the castle, the trio parted ways, Harry and Sirius proceeding to the Slytherin dungeons and Homsar blibbling his way towards Ravenclaw Tower.

The rhinoceros
The next figure to walk through the door did so with something of a spring in his step, which was not at all an easy feat to accomplish when one's feet were soolnds, and, more importantly, when said soolnds belonged to a creature who had once buried himself in a hole in the ground in the hopes of experiencing what it felt like to be dead...and that was to say nothing of the fact that said creature owned every single album by Morrissey on cassette tape, eight-track, CD, and in iTunes. Despite the melancholy of his gaming partner, Strong Sad was actually in a very chipper mood. He was just returning from a whole series of conventions -- three sci/fi fantasy ones and eight forums on safety, to be exact. It had been a good summer. He had even engaged in a little bit of cosplay at the Forum for Fire Prevention in the Workplace and Beyond, dressing as a fire hydrant. Even having been urinated on by several dogs on the way to the forum had not gotten him down.

He whistled a happy tune as he walked toward Gryffindor Tower, punctuating the song with small bits of sung phrases. The lyrics "I will never, ever, ever, ever, ever write a song about Sibbie" could be distinctly heard by anyone within earshot.

He turned and ascended a staircase. After several seconds, however, there was a loud crash as one of his soolnds plunged straight through that nasty old trick stair. The whistling and singing immediately stopped, and the only sound that was emitted from the staircase was an echoey "I'm dooooooooooooomed."

The jokester
Luckily, those who enjoyed hearing a good round of whistling were not to be disappointed, for Fred Weasley came strolling through the door in Strong Sad's wake, and he was in quite a pleasant mood indeed! His trip to southeast Asia to pick up some, shall we say, dodgy magical items had been an outright success, and he could think of little else than holing up in his room and putting them to good use. And by good use, he meant starting up his Flatulent Fireworks product line, among other things. He strode up toward Gryffindor Tower, one hand casually clutching a very large package under his robes.

The swan
As Fred's whistling drifted off in the direction of Gryffindor, a much different noise punctuated the silence that began to fill in the Entrance Hall.

"Hell-OOOOOOOOOO-OH! Anybody home? Heeeeeeeeeeeere...SWANNIE!" A squat woman of indiscernible ethnic origin waddled through the doors. She wore a plaid housedress, and her hair was cut in a blunt bob, with even blunter bangs. Only her own echo greeted her, and she stopped in her tracks and looked around with suspicious, beady eyes. "Yuhhhhh, OK, but why is all the rum gone?" Her voice was heavily accented. "Swannie, I hooooo-ooooooome!"

Still nothing.

With a loud sigh, Miss Swan opened the large purse she had clutched to her and pulled out an orange cornsnake. "OK, you go finding somebody who look like a man and bring him back to Swan so we can get this party started," she commanded the snake, and it slithered off, probably ecstatic at the long-awaited opportunity to escape its nutjob mistress, who was now undoing the top button of her housedress in the hopes of attracting a booty call. Now that she had gone back to Kuvaria and been there and done all that with those wily Kuravian men (all of whom completely looked like men!), it was time to tap some magical ass.

The boss and the receptionist
Hogwarts and Scranton were two completely different worlds, almost like the office and the warehouse. But both places, castle and paper company in an industrial office park, felt like home to Pam Beesly, and while she wasn't entirely sure that was a good thing, that's how it was. Which, perhaps, was why she wasn't all that surprised to bump into Michael Scott as she entered the castle.

"Michael! I thought you -- oof!" A man in a suit and tie, with just a bit too much gel in his hair -- the aforementioned Michael Scott -- had launched himself at her and wrapped himself around her in a colossal bear hug. After several airless seconds and a quick head jerk to prevent the inevitable kiss attempt, Pam managed to pry Michael off of herself, but there was nothing she could do to stop the barrage of cheesy greetings, some of which were sung, that issued forth from his mouth.

"PAMELA YES MA'AM-ELA SAM I AM-ELA! WAIT-er! I'd like an order of Pam-strami on rye, please! PAM...duh duh duh, duh duh duh, LET THE BOYS BE BOYS! If you like it, then you should've put a Pam on it, oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh oh oh, oh oh oh!" By this point, Michael had pulled back from her enough to start slapping his own ass and shaking one hand around in an attempt at the Single Ladies dance, allowing Pam to take several steps back.

"It's good to see you, too, Michael," she managed to interject with a bit of a smile -- and it was a genuine smile, because as crazy as the man was, she had missed him. Not enough to watch him do what might be the world's worst imitation of Beyoncé, however, and so she extended a hand to grip him just above the elbow. "But just...yeah, don't dance anymore. At least, not right now, okay?"

That was a tall order for Michael, who was ecstatic not just to see Pam, but also to be returning to Hogwarts and Dunder-Mifflin Hogsmeade, but he complied with a joyful sort of "Yayyyyysh" before coming to a complete stop. But he couldn't stay still for long, jerking back into motion with a loud hand clap. "Vill-kom-en back-en, Fraulein Pam! Ve haf missed you around dese parts!" His accent started going a bit Arnold Schwarzenegger.

God. Already Pam was starting to wonder whether she should have stayed in Scranton for another week or two. It had been so nice and peaceful and wonderful visiting her parents. They never did crazy dances or semi-sexually-harassed her on a regular basis. "You weren't here either, Michael."

"Jaaaaaa," Michael replied deeply, his twitching smile betraying any attempt at Germanic seriousness he was hoping to impart. "Jaaaaaasssssh." He clapped again. "Because I~~~ was out. And by out, I mean OUT. GAY PRIDE, BABY! I was doing a circuit of all the pride festivals around the world, getting my rainbow on, because I'm here, I'm queer, and I'm gay as beer!" More ass slapping, albeit of a different sort, ensued.

Ah yes, the gay thing. Michael was still convinced he was gay, and for all Pam knew, he was still engaged to that awful purple television monstrosity. "That's...great, Michael. I'm sure you really represented out there. Well, I'm really jetlagged, so I should probably, you know, head back to my dorm. But...I'll catch up with you later, okay?"

She quickly darted off in the direction of Hufflepuff as Michael ass-slapped his way toward Slytherin, or perhaps Sparklypoo. A sort of wheezing sound, as well as a gut-churning scent, came from a small pet carrier he held in his non-ass-slapping hand.

((Time to officially end my unofficial hiatus! Please feel free to throw your characters at any or all of these guys, gals, and marshamallowy-type creatures! Emmie Silvey is still on hiatus, but I will bring her back in a separate post sometime in the nearish future. :) ))

Comments

[vislor-turlough.livejournal.com]

"Oh, hello again, you idiotic-wait." Turlough held out a hand, at about Lezard's height, which was a bit taller than Harry's. "You're not that idiot, sorry."

[kill-voldemort.livejournal.com]

Had the man before him been Professor Snape, Harry would have considered his greeting to be quite mild, and even rather friendly. But even though this turned out not to be the case, Harry found it a refreshing change to be mistaken for someone else, even someone who was apparently disliked, rather than gawked at for the infamous scar on his forehead.

"I, er...I reckon not, no." He reached a hand up in a futile attempt to flatten his fringe over his forehead. "Er...exactly which idiot do you mean?"

There was no dearth of idiots at Hogwarts, so Harry figured it couldn't hurt to whittle the selection down to just which one he had been mistaken for.

[vislor-turlough.livejournal.com]

"Lezard Valeth. Idiot with a god complex. Looks kinda like you except taller and without that scar. I should give him one."

I was going to make a comparison of Snape and Harry to Turlough and Lezard, but then I realized I have no idea which one's Harry.

"Slythein, predictably enough. Idiot."

[omg-sunflora.livejournal.com]

"Homsar!" By sheer coincidence (and maybe a bit of help from the Room of Requirement), Sunflora found something Homsar might be interested.

"Are these the Jeffersons?" She held up a DVD. Yeah. Definitely RoR.

[homsarhomsar.livejournal.com]

Homsar's douleur had been so intense that his hat had drooped halfway down his back by this point as he made his way toward Ravenclaw Tower. Even the skillful touch of Sirius Black would not have been likely to have gotten it back up.

But the mention of that sacred name caused it to twitch for a moment, and Homsar blibble-turned around to regard the item in question.

It was the Jeffersons, alright -- and what a welcome sight it was. The DVD appeared to levitate itself in Homsar's direction as he reached for it with the visible arms that he lacked (http://www.hrwiki.org/wiki/Lack_of_Visible_Arms). But he had come this close before. (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1211718.html?thread=62131014#t62131014) Possessing the Jeffersons had been a great leap forward. But the question of how -- and perhaps more importantly, when -- they could be started was still pending. It was something that Homsar intended to dedicate great Arithmantic effort toward calculating, for Arithmancy was his only hope. He would have to spend large amounts of time experimenting with his Jenga set, that was for sure.

But he was absolutely grateful for the backup copy. His hat perked up a bit more as he exclaimed, "DaaaAAAAaaaAAAAaaaAAAA! Call me big daddy when you back that thang up!"

[omg-sunflora.livejournal.com]

"Okay, big daddy!" The merrily oblivious Sunflora said, not realizing just WHAT she said. She was just happy that Homsar was happy.

"Yippee! I completed my job!" She danced in celebration.

For Harry and Sirius

[curlybrain.livejournal.com]

((Welcome back! There will probably be more of my characters coming to meet yours, but I will practice self-restraint!))

Hermione had been wandering around, not going anywhere in particular, contemplating Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson plans, when she noticed a couple of familliar figures up ahead.

She had to do a double take, to make sure she actually recognized them both. Yes, that was definitely... not Lezard. And that was also definitely Sirius!

"Harry!" Hermione's voice had reached heights never before heard as she launched herself in a completely undignified manner at her best friend, preparing for a glomp of epic proportions. "Oh, Merlin, it really is you! How are you? Where have you been! Oh, I've missed you so much, and I have so much to tell you!"

Re: For Harry and Sirius

[kill-voldemort.livejournal.com]

"Hermione!" Harry met her launch with one of his own, and the epic glomp was indeed epically epic. For it had been ages since Harry had seen her, and he had missed her sorely. Not that he would ever have admitted it to her, but there had been more than one occasion on which he would have given his Firebolt to have heard Hermione lecture him on the impossibility of Apparition within the Hogwarts grounds.

"I've been...loads of places," he said with a large grin as he pulled back to regard Hermione. "All over, really. Every country where people eat chipwiches, and then some countries where they don't, just in case the one we were looking for got smuggled in. I never know the ice-cream-filled cookie sandwich industry was so complex, you know? It's...incredible."

But Harry wasn't one to wax on for too long about himself, and so he continued, "But how are you, Hermione? I mean...you were popcorn! What was that like? How did you, erm...unpop? And how long have you been unpopped? What have you been doing since then?" Harry reckoned he knew the answer to the lattermost question -- studying in the library -- but he figured he'd ask anyway. There was so much to catch up on!

Re: For Harry and Sirius

[curlybrain.livejournal.com]

"You'll have to tell me what you were doing looking for sandwich cookies," Hermione said, laughing.

She finally let go of Harry, taking a step back to look him over. He certainly seemed to have had a good time, she thought happily.

"I don't remember much about being popcorn," she answered. "It's just... one moment I was studying and the next I was covered in butter. I've been keeping myself busy, though. The Defense Against the Dark Arts position came up, and I applied for it. Can you imagine? I'm actually Professor Granger now." A frown creased her brow as she added, more uncertainly, "I hope you don't mind terribly. You're better at that than I am, but you weren't here, and I didn't want to take the chance that someone... who didn't know anything about the subject would get it, because this place is mad!"

He... looks like a man

[dangerous-pets.livejournal.com]

Hagrid had come in from outside in search of a snack when he spotted a snake, slithering its way toward him.

The thing looked adorable, and Hagrid didn't want it to be scared, especially since he knew students tended to react poorly to snakes most of the time.

He moved to pick up the snake, but it darted out of his way, so the giant gave chase, eventually finding himself herded back to where Miss Swan was waiting.

Hagrid looked down at the much smaller woman, then at the snake. "Hullo. That yours? Yeh migh' want ter be careful lettin' 'im loose around the school. He's liable ter get stampeded."

Re: He... looks like a man

[miss-bunny-swan.livejournal.com]

At first, all Miss Swan saw were legs and feet, because she was so short and Hagrid was so tall. "Yuhhh, that mine. He not getting stampeded, because Swan -- "

She cut herself off the moment she craned her neck up and caught a look at the colossal specimen of masculinity stationed in front of her. "Ooooooh, now YOU...look like a man." She winked very unsubtly, wiggling a shoulder in what she clearly thought was a seductive manner, even though the effect was likely quite the opposite. "Swan not usually liking a man with hair. Swan usually giving big waxing to hairy man at Gorgeous Pretty Beauty Nail Salon 2 in Sparklypoopoo House. But Swan liking your hair, you hairy man who look like a man!"

Re: He... looks like a man

[dangerous-pets.livejournal.com]

Hagrid looked down at Miss Swan in some concern. It looked like she had something in her eye. Either that or a nervous tick.

"Uh, thanks," he managed at her attempt at flirtation. "I'm... glad yeh like it. I don' think I'd want ter be waxed." Except... maybe Turlough would like him better waxed? It was something to ask him about, at any rate!

Every manager needs an assistant to the manager!

[beets-r-god.livejournal.com]

((Reposting for HTML fail corrections!))

Dwight had just left Slytherin, headed somewhere else, when he noticed Michael heading in his direction.

His face broke into a wide grin as he ran to intercept his boss.

"Michael!" he exclaimed, holding his arms out for an embrace. "You've been gone so long! But don't worry. Dunder-mifflin Hogsmeade is in safe hands! I think I've even found us a new Angela. (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1829358.html?thread=101293294#t101293294) But... you've been missed!" Dwight's relief was so palpable that he could have wept, and might have except that Schrutes simply didn't do such things.

Re: Every manager needs an assistant to the manager!

[office-michael.livejournal.com]

And into Dwight's waiting embrace was shoved the pet carrier, which emitted a prolonged wet flatulent sort of noise before settling back into the wheezing once again.

Michael's first inclination was to back in the glow of the ego boost. His second inclination was to tell Dwight not to wet his pants. So he went with his third inclination.

"Is she hot? The new Angela, I mean. Like, would I do her? And would she do me?" Oh, damn, wait. "If she was into gays, I mean."

Re: Every manager needs an assistant to the manager!

[beets-r-god.livejournal.com]

Dwight spent a few undignified moments choking as he breathed in Guano's fumes.

"Yes," he finally managed. "The new Angela is hot. I even think she'd do you, although she's not nearly as pretty as Jan." Because Dwight totally wanted to hit that, and couldn't very well do so if Michael was interested. Little did he know that, later on in the new Angela's canon, she would sleep with anything and everything, and so probably wouldn't object too strenuously to sleeping with a couple of dorky overgrown manchildren.

[pippithepirate.livejournal.com]

It had been a good day so far. Pippi had been outside giving Little Old Man his oats and making sure he had a scarf on, just in case he'd be cold during the nights. Pippi did take great care of her animals. She was just pondering a knitting pattern for a pair of horse long johns when she saw a face that she hadn't seen in ages. A face she'd greatly missed. Mister Nilsson gave a delighted chirrup and climbed up on her head to get a better view of Sirius. Presumably he still remembered the kind man who'd transformed twine into a banana for him (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/845834.html#cutid1). It's the kind of thing that stands out, even in the memory of a monkey.

"Sirius!" Pippi shouted happily, running up to him as Mister Nilsson clung on to her hair for dear life. "Well, it's about time!" Her eyes sparkled with joy. Second only to her Papa showing up at Hogwarts, this was pretty much the best thing that could happen.

[toujours-sirius.livejournal.com]

A great big grin spread across Sirius's face. "Hullo, Pippi!" Even if he had been hitherto unacquainted with Pippi, it would have been hard to resist returning such a joyful smile, but the fact that he had had the pleasure made it damn nigh impossible. "And hullo, Mister Nilsson! Long time no see, but you look no worse for the wear!"

A reunion like this required a bit of celebratory food. He reached into an inside pocket of his cloak and pulled out a small satchel. "Fancy a chipwich?"

Hey, man, not one of them was any relation to Homsar, so this offer was perfectly kosher indeed!

[my-soul-itches.livejournal.com]

Megan was lost. And she had been doing so well lately, too!

"Okay," she said out loud, clinging to a staircase as it moved from one floor to another, "This really isn't so bad. All I need to do is just... teleport! Yeah, that's it! Sihal novarum chinoth!"

And with a bright pink poof and pop of displaced air, she vanished and reappeared. In front of Slytherin, which was so not where she wanted to be. "Oh, nuts," she sighed.

Catching sight of a kid with glasses who looked to be somewhere around her age and an older guy, she fluttered over and smiled brightly. "Excuse me! Could you tell me where the Room of Requirement is? I got kind of lost." Under her breath, she added, "Again..."

[kill-voldemort.livejournal.com]

The Room of Requirement? Did the whole bloody school know about that place now? This student seemed like a decent sort, so Harry responded politely, "Er, you're actually nowhere near it right now. It's up on the seventh floor, across from a tapestry with trolls dancing ballet. But it's not quite so simple as finding it and walking in. You've sort of got to know just what you need it for and ask it to appear for that purpose."

"Harry, don't make it so confusing for the poor girl," Sirius interjected. "What exactly do you need it for, or is that, shall we say, top secret?" He winked. Had he discovered the Room of Requirement back in his old school days, he certainly would have used it for many top-secret endeavours.

[grandmasteryoda.livejournal.com]

Yoda, on a nice leisurely walk (not that he could really have any other kind at his age), stopped and wrinkled his nose at that horrid smell. "Phagh!" He waved one tri-fingered hand in front of his face, and drew liberally on the Force to dull that particular sense. "A different diet, perhaps you should feed your pet," he said to the man carrying the odoriferous animal.

[office-michael.livejournal.com]

"A different diet? Tubby Tustard is the best -- " Suddenly realizing he was addressing the empty air in front of him, Michael cut himself off. "Who said -- oh!" He looked down to find Yoda.

"Hi HO! House-elf! Speaking of Tubby Tustard, I think Guano's getting hungry -- he's usually gassier when his stomach's empty -- so I need you to pop over to Sparklypoo and grab some from Tinky Winky's machine!"

[degeneratewolfe.livejournal.com]

"Why hello there!" Valentine said, pausing in following the latest set of ultraviolet patterns, the result of an until-now theoretical potion he had been working on. This new interruption just had to be another part of the experience, what with the lack of visible arms and splendid yellow bowler hat. "Wonderful day for it, isn't it?"

The swirling mandala that they were currently inhabiting didn't strictly exist outside of Valentine's mind, but he'd never had a problem with talking to his hallucinations. They were often vastly more interesting than so-called real people.

[homsarhomsar.livejournal.com]

Feeling quite cheered after his encounter with Sunflora (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1831385.html?thread=101499609#t101499609), Homsar was inclined to agree.

"DaaaAAAAaaaAAAAaaaAAAA! Take me on down to Funkytown!" he proclaimed jauntily.

[carriesapurse.livejournal.com]

Let the joyous butt-slapping commence. Tinky Winky's rendition of the 'Single Ladies' dance involved a purple mitt flopping against bulbous purple posterior, with each buttsmack producing an unpleasantly flatulent sound (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kvj4Tv3d3U4). More, as he walked along making this noise, he left a purple line.

Strange witchcraft, this. He trod the shape of an amorphous and frightening flower.

"Fwowah! MIKAW!"

The impromptu floor-art was a gift for his lovah.

[office-michael.livejournal.com]

A saner person would have run away from the scene screaming, but this was Michael Scott. As such, he ran towards it, joyfully exclaiming, "T to tha dub!"

If he had been carrying a giant highlighter, possessed any substantial magical knowledge, or had the ability to shit colored lines at will, he would have created a pink triangle in the middle of the purple flower. But the only office supply on him was parchment, he had barely paid attention in the few Hogwarts classes he had attended, and he was able to crap only regular brown human feces at the whim of his gut. So instead, he simply bent down, opened up the pet carrier, and let the scrawny beast inside run free. It immediately started licking at the purple lines.

This reunion was truly cause for celebration. And the best way to celebrate was filk!

As he bumped hips with Tinky Winky, he sang out, "I got Chapstick on my lips, I'm bumping Tinky Winky's hips, got me tighter in my dry-cleaned jeans! Guano's acting up, got Tubby Tustard in my cup, I'm doing my gay old thing! 'Cause Tinky Winky liked it and he's gonna deflower my butt, Tinky Winky liked it and he's gonna deflower my butt! Oh oh oh, oh oh oh oh oh oh, oh oh oh!"

And then, with a contented sigh, he stopped for a moment and proclaimed moonily, "Tell you what... Truth is, sometimes I missed you so bad I can hardly stand it...."

And yes, he knew just what that line was from, because Brokeback Thursdays had continued, even while he was away.