Application for Charlie B. Barkin (All Dogs Go To Heaven)

[mixedup-pup.livejournal.com]

A soft coalescence of heavenly blue light made itself happen in the Sorting Room. It stirred into a cloud, a shape, a body... a dog. A mangy, flea bitten mutt that could have been part german shepherd somewhere down the line, but was all mutt from the tip of one gnawed ear to the bottoms of his dirty paws.

Charlie B. Barkin, formerly alive, dead, alive and dead again, dropped from the blue, sparkling cloud in an undignified heap with all the grace allotted his species, which was to say none.

"One place this ain't is Heaven," Charlie muttered, picking himself off the floor with a pained grunt. He didn't remember there being cold stone floors in Heaven. Or stone walls, or anything that wasn't pink clouds, stars, halos and clocks.

So maybe (definitely) he wasn't going back after all. Hell, all of that pretty blue light and the "come home, Charlie" and the sparkles... Never trust a whippet. Heck, never trust a damn dead dog about anything. especially ones that could dance.

Sure, he'd died for Anne-Marie (and Itchy. God bless him, never forget Itchy) and he'd do it all over again if he was asked to. But he figured if this is where someone who nobly sacrificed his life to be a Good Dog and do the things that Good Dogs did ended up, well... he didn't want it anyway. Not that he had a choice.

Well, he'd dealt with worse. And if the worst this place (wherever this place was) could throw at him was a floating pansy pen, then he'd take here over New Orleans any day. Better than getting shot at by Flash Gordon rayguns or being nearly-eaten by foppish, gigantic sewer gators. Nothing, he was sure, could beat that.

He sniffed at the quill and parchment topped table, wishing for nothing more at that moment than a stiff drink.



State your full name.
"Charlie Butch Barkin, atcher service. And, not Charles, thank you. Charles is for classier guys than me." He was unsurprised when the quill began to write as he spoke. Hell, if little girls could understand animal talk and dogs could come back to life with the help of a nice watch (and where had his gone, anyway?) was this any weirder? No, thank you.

1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?
Oh, now somebody was speaking his language. Cheese, sure. He could talk cheese or any kind of food for hours, given the chance.
"Gorganzola. The good kind, stuffed in an olive, on a toothpick - none of those fancy little sword shaped ones, thanks - in a nice, dirty martini." He smacked his chops, mouth watering. What he wouldn't give for one right now.

2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?
"Oh, hey," he held up his paws, knowing logically that the pen couldn't see him, but still. Dog's gotta defend himself. "Hey, I'm not in the killing business. You'll want to go to Carface for that." That stupid pug would kill anyone, given the chance. Charlie would know.

3. What time is it where you are?
"Night?" He paused, thinking. It was nighttime when he'd said his goodbyes to Anne-Marie and Itchy. Sometime late, close to midnight. "Late night. 'Round eleven or so."

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.
Well, this little interview had certainly taken a left turn into Weirder-Than-Expected-ville. He wrinkled his snout a little. He didn't know any of these people, and a well-aimed newspaper had taught him a fine lesson the last time he'd tried humping a person's leg. he'd never tried that again, for sure.

"I know plenty about coming back from the dead, pal, and lemme tell you, that kind of harassment is probably going to be the last thing on your mind once you make the return trip." he snorted. "Grievous bodily harm, however... that's fair game."

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.
He laughed. "Charlie's Place, naturally. But, lets set things level here: I don't bartend. I... how can i say it... I like to keep on the business end of things. And brother, a dark bar ain't gonna buy you no customers. You want lights and dancing girls and craps tables. You want your name up there for everyone to see. you want a bar? It's gotta be your place, know what I'm saying? Yours. And if I'm gonna be at a bar, it's gonna be Charlie's Place."

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.
The face Charlie made at that was one of utter disapproval. "Marriage? You're pulling my leg, here. There are plenty of fine dames around; no need to stick yourself with one, know what I'm sayin'?" His disapproval turned to disgust. "Bleagh. Marriage. That's stuff for saps, pal."

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.
He shrugged. "Get someone else to do it. If you know a guy who knows a guy, you won't see any paperwork ever again. Of course, you want to keep an eye on these things, or someone's bound to be trotting around with a cement collar, eventually. And in my opinion, better the other guy than you."

D. Hufflepuff – Prove you are not useless.
Charlie spread his paws and sat back on his haunches. "Look at me. I'm a dog; I'm a businessman. I run my own casino, pal. I know guys who know guys who know guys all over Louisiana. I've broken out of The Joint more times than I can count on all four paws. Useless is one thing I most certainly am not." It would probably be noted later that he didn't mention all of these things happened with help, usually from Itchy, but that was immaterial. Itchy wasn't here to complain, was he? Why not take a little of the glory for himself, then?

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.
"Oh, well," damn. Didn't that just bite him in the ass right away. "I don't have anything on me at the moment. You know, no pockets and all. But I tell you what: We get to my place, or hell, any casino in Louisiana, I'll get you more'n just a couple of bones, get me? I know how these things work, you dig?" Not that he had Anne-Marie to help him predict the outcome of the races, or any real clout (being a dead dog and all) with most places any more. And not to mention that Charlie's Place had burned to the ground not a few hours ago. But it was the principal of the thing. No one ever expected you to pay up on bribes that weren't immediately available. If you were lucky.



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

Comments

[i-am-an-hero.livejournal.com]

The application confused A, but part of the bribe got his attention. "What kind of bones?"

Maybe he could make a good stock.

[mixedup-pup.livejournal.com]

A kid? Another kid who could talk to dogs? Geeze, what were they feeding 'em nowadays? Ah well, gift horses and mouths.

"Kid, all the bones you could want. T-bones, ham bones, Turkey, ribs... But really, why have a couple of bones when you can have the whole steak, you know?"

[i-am-an-hero.livejournal.com]

"Steak is good," A agreed earnestly. "It is very nice for special dinners."

No points for guessing who A is planning on having a steak dinner with.

"But with bones I can make a stock, and use it for soup or sauces."

[mixedup-pup.livejournal.com]

Charlie was dangerously close to protesting that - really, who would cook a perfectly good bone when there were teeth that needed to be gnawing on it - but reminded himself that humans were stranger in their eating habits than any other creature in the world. Barring cats.

"Hey, if it floats your boat. I'm a pizza guy myself, but good steak trumps pizza any day of the week. You cook, though? Nice. Very nice. Most kids just go for burger joints and mom's packed lunches."

[i-am-an-hero.livejournal.com]

A's lips twitched briefly; 'mom's packed lunches' had never been part of his life. "I am not sure if I like pizza, but burgers are tasty. I, I prefer other things though, with more complex flavors."

[mixedup-pup.livejournal.com]

"Good, great. You ever tried gumbo? You'd probably get a kick out of it." He smacked his chops, remembering Jambalaya Bob's famous Louisiana gumbo, fresh from the bottom of the pot. The things humans just threw away. Hell, just the thought of it made his stomach grumble noisily. Did dead things get hungry? maybe he was just remembering what it was like to be hungry. He'd lived with the feeling most of his life, anyway. Nothing new. But all this food talk was making it feel kind of unfair.

[i-am-an-hero.livejournal.com]

"I haven't tried making gumbo yet. I don't have a source for filé powder, and if I am going to try making it I would like it to be really authentic. I might try making jambalaya, though. That sounds fairly simple, apart from all the chopping."

Hmmm. Perhaps he should make jambalaya for the potluck.

[woocha.livejournal.com]

I SMELL A DOG! And for Wishbone this was a good thing. More friends!

Hi! Hi! Hi! I'm Wishbone! he said, dancing around in delight.

[mixedup-pup.livejournal.com]

"Woah, hey," Charlie sat back, putting one paw out for a shake. Terriers. They always got so excited over things. But at least with this guy it was the kind of charmingly cute excitement instead of the yappingly annoying kind. "What, not many dogs around here? You act like you ain't seen another pooch in years."

[woocha.livejournal.com]

Well, there are some, but they don't talk much. Nor do the cats. They're still fun to play with though.

[mixedup-pup.livejournal.com]

"Ah, a cat-chaser, huh? Don't bother with 'em myself, but every dog to his own." Charlie's grin was warm; he liked Wishbone. The little pooch made him think of Godfrey, but less twitchy. And Wishbone didn't exactly seem the gambling type. "You a... kept dog, or you off the leash?"

[woocha.livejournal.com]

Ehhhh, kinda both. I needed an owner so that this very mean human couldn't hurt me, but I still have my own room and I can get my own food and go to class by myself. I guess I'm kept in name only. Oh, but back at home I do have an owner. I miss him. I wish he'd come here.

[mixedup-pup.livejournal.com]

Charlie nodded, following everything up until the 'go to class part.' he held up his paws in a 'time-out' gesture, confused.
"Back up a sec. Go to class? What is this, obedience school?" Oh God, maybe he really had gone to Hell.

[woocha.livejournal.com]

This is Hogwarts! We get to learn magic here! Like how to summon things, and about really cool plants, and how to turn into a cat! But that's really only good for having catnip. Given that that was the animal equivalent of marijuana, though...

[charlesofdensen.livejournal.com]

Ofdensen hesitated. On the one hand, it was a dog. And dogs did not get well with Charles Foster Ofdensen.

On the other hand...

"Maybe I should direct my employers to you then. If they call you Charlie enough, maybe they'll stop calling me Charlie."

[mixedup-pup.livejournal.com]

"You're a Charles then, I'd wager." Not that he didn't have enough clues from the classy suit and the expensive hair gel smell that wafted off the guy like a little cloud made out of the word 'shiny.' Charlie sniffed a little more carefully.

Good god, the man smelled like a lawyer, or something like it. And being a dog who'd spent most of his time on the bad side of the law, well.

Still, no reason to be hostile. He was dead, after all. He'd probably been dropped off in the same purgatory lawyers landed in so he could think about what he'd done for a while. Forgiveness my tick-gnawed ass, he thought, and turned on his most charming smile. "And your employers would be?"

[charlesofdensen.livejournal.com]

"Dethklok. A death metal band. I don't expect you to have heard of them, despite recent ventures, music isn't marketed to dogs yet."

[mixedup-pup.livejournal.com]

"A what band?" That surefire as hell didn't sound anything like Bing Crosby or Perry Como would put out. After all, metal bands didn't exactly exist in the 1930s.

[charlesofdensen.livejournal.com]

"Death metal. A type of music that came from Scandinavia and emigrated to America. Mainly consists of unintelligible lyrics, heavy drumming, and insane guitar solos."

[mixedup-pup.livejournal.com]

Yeah, definitely not Over The Rainbow, then. Charlie rubbed a paw over his face, trying to imagine what this 'death metal' stuff sounded like. The only thing that came to mind was a gigantic, self-inflicted headache.

"Death metal. All right. Okay. And, when exactly did this lovely sounding thing emigrate over?" Something told him there was a definitive reason he hadn't heard of the stuff yet. If it was popular (and Charlie really kept his ear to the ground concerning these things) he would have at least heard mention of it.

[charlesofdensen.livejournal.com]

"It didn't really rise in popularity until the 1980s." Ofdensen of course didn't know that Charlie was from the past.

And he was still keeping his distance.

[omg-sunflora.livejournal.com]

"OH MY GOSH MIGHTY...wait." Sunflora tilted her head. "You're too small to be a Mightyena. But you're too big to be a Poochyena. And you're brown, not grey."

Never mind that shiny Mightyena actually were pretty similar to Charlie in color.

[mixedup-pup.livejournal.com]

"I..." Oh god, I'm being haunted by one of the Wallet Family's flowers, was the thought that kept turning around in his brain. He managed coherent speech for about a second more: "What?"

[omg-sunflora.livejournal.com]

Sunflora peered at Charlie for a few more seconds. "You don't Bite, do you?"

Yes, that was capitalized.

[mixedup-pup.livejournal.com]

The subtle sound of capitalization made Charlie's ear twitch slightly. "Not unless someone makes me, kid," he said finally, unsure whether that was really the right answer to give.

[omg-sunflora.livejournal.com]

"Oh! Well, I don't wanna make you. Not unless you're a bad not-Pokemon. I'm Sunflora."

[mixedup-pup.livejournal.com]

"I'm pretty sure I'm not a bad... pocket man," he replied, not sure he was catching the word right, but beyond caring at this point. He was talking to a flower. that kind of pushed vocabulary down the mental capacity line to somewhere around 'completely unimportant,' though for some reason politeness seemed to be further up the ladder. He offered a paw to shake. "Charlie," he introduced himself, thinking it was probably needless, but wanting to anyway.

[omg-sunflora.livejournal.com]

Sunflora carefully shook his paw with the flat of her leaf. "Welcome to Hogwarts!" she said with a smile.

[calligraphywolf.livejournal.com]

While Amaterasu was the sun goddess, she was also currently in the form of a wolf, and sometimes all those funny wolf instincts were a bit hard to ignore. Which was why, upon entering the Sorting Room, she made a beeline for Charlie and started sniffing at him curiously. Definitely something off about him. Was he supposed to be dead?

The wolf tilted her head to a side and gave him a bemused look. Soon after, a little green sprite sleepily hiked his way out of the thick fur of her neck and bounced up to perch atop her head. "You interrupted my beauty sleep to show me a mutt?" Issun grumbled, then addressed Charlie. "Well, pooch, got any bones on ya? That must be what ol' Ammy here wants. Or-" He paused to yawn. "Maybe she thinks you're cute, heh heh!" That prompted a low whine from Amaterasu. One of the hazards of having Issun speaking for her was that he all too often misinterpreted her, and usually on purpose.

[mixedup-pup.livejournal.com]

Charlie squinted at the bug, wrinkling his snout. "You're pretty yappy for an over-size flea, pal," he said, then turning his attention to Amaterasu. "Does he always speak for you, sweetheart?"

[drunkexguardian.livejournal.com]

((FYI, Lee is a former guardian angel. Play with that or ignore it as you will!))

Another talking dog. This place was downright crawling with talking critters, wasn't it? Not that Lee was complaining. You always knew where you stood with dogs.

"Isn't that a flashy entrance," she said, more musing than anything. "And this place sure as fuck isn't Heaven. So, you're dead?"

[mixedup-pup.livejournal.com]

"Yeah, I'm starting to get that impression," Charlie muttered, sniffing. Didn't this person smell interesting. Kind of like heaven, but with a slightly unhooked undertone that said a big fat 'No.' A come-back, like him? Nah, he didn't smell like heaven when he had come back (of course, a dip in the harbor may have attributed to that. Unless heaven's smell was supposed to translate into dead fish and car exhaust once one returned to the world of the living.)

"And affirmative on the second part, as far as I can tell. I don't have my watch, anyway. Must have lost it along the way." This with a significant pang of regret. He'd grown attached to the thing over time; it had been his life, after all.

[drunkexguardian.livejournal.com]

"Sucks," she said, and if one were to listen closely they might hear the sympathy in the otherwise flatly-spoken word. "Didn't know dogs wore watches. Then again, they don't usually talk where I'm from, either. Which is, by the way, Louisiana." By way of Heaven, but whatever. Details.

[republikatt.livejournal.com]

Gah. Dog. Big dog, compared to tiny foot-and-a-half-tall Bucky. He edged in, keeping his back to the wall and hoping that this one wouldn't magically turn into a cat or a vacuum cleaner or something. His fur puffed up threateningly. Capitalism overrode being freaked out by big dogs. "If you're a businessman, who do you use for marketing? I've got some merchandise I need sold."

[mixedup-pup.livejournal.com]

"I know a guy," Charlie said carefully. He didn't care for cats too much, but he didn't actively dislike them. Most cats were stupid strays (ah, pots and kettles, you old dog you) that didn't have more than a chihuahua's sense between any of them. And then there were the insufferably arrogant housecats, but they were a different matter altogether.

This one, though... well, Charlie was never one to turn down a business deal. "But that depends on the stuff what's got to be sold," he finished.

[republikatt.livejournal.com]

((Apologies, RL got kind of crazy.))

"I've got shirts. And some other stuff, but mostly shirts. Monkeywhere? (http://community.livejournal.com/getfuzzyfeed/229749.html) shirts. Maybe you've heard of them?"

[mayhem-george.livejournal.com]

"Craps? Isn't that a muggle game involving dice? I definitely think you may be on to something," George Weasley said with a wide grin. "But... being a dog and everything... how would you roll the dice without slobbering all over them?" It was best to get these details squared away as quickly as possible."

[mixedup-pup.livejournal.com]

Charlie smirked and held out a paw. Close examination would reveal it to be just as limber as a human's; the kind of anthropomorphism that only the dogs of his world seemed to possess. "Gimme some dice, kid, and I'll show you how we play craps back home. You're looking at a professional, here."

[pixie-jenks.livejournal.com]

The four inch high pixie buzzed into the sorting room with a clatter of wings. His wings reddened at the sight of Charlie.
"Turn this place anyway," he grumbled. "At least it's not a cat this time."

He landed on the application and gave it a quick read. "A casino eh? What's your game?"

[weaponized-love.livejournal.com]

Keenan blinked a little. "I'll be damned, a talking dog. And an ex a'cajun to boot. How'd you hold up when Katrina hit?%Pr

[ugly-old-hat.livejournal.com]

The Hat, being rather disgusting and mangled itself, didn't mind the state of Charlie's noggin. However, it was made for the shape of a human head, not a dog's, and so it could barely keep from flopping over in a most undignified way as it perched over Charlie's ears.

"This Charlie's Place thing, tell me more!" it said excitedly as it attempted to keep its brim from slipping down. "Here at Hogwarts, we've got all sorts of dens of sin, from chaw parlors to hookah bars to libraries." Oh yes, the activities that went on in libraries after hours were far more unmentionable than mere broom-closet hanky-panky or Astronomy Tower makeout sessions. "But I don't think we've got any nudie bars or casinos. Any interest in re-establishing your joint over here? Our students could always use more opportunities for depravity!"

[mixedup-pup.livejournal.com]

"Oh geeze," Charlie scratched distractedly behind one ear. For all he boasted Charlie's Place was really Itchy's baby. He could wax poetic on the place forever, though. "Casino, bar, stage. The stage is a rebuild from old parts left over when the Vaudeville theater on sixth got trashed. Nice red curtains, stage spots, and dancing girls all in a sparkly little row." He laughed, clapping his paws together.

"Shoulda seen it before Carface... well. Shoulda seen it. But the casino you got the pot hangin over the players like temptation, and they just go apeshit over it, betting and betting til they have to trade in their collars for collateral. And the bar, built it out of a 1922 Cadillac. Cherry red, liquor everywhere. It's a deam; no other place like it."

[ugly-old-hat.livejournal.com]

"Sounds positively decadent!" the Hat breathed. "Of course, we're more about the batshit than the apeshit here, but those are just small details that can always be worked out."

It straightened itself up a bit, as it had started to flop down once more. "At any rate, anyone who's a friend of sparkly debauchery and bars built of alcohol-soaked Muggle vehicles is a friend of Hogwarts. After settling in, if you would like to have a go at rebuilding Charlie's Place in the Common Room of your House, you certainly have my blessing, as well as a promise from me that I will perform a special burlesque number onstage to entertain and titillate the masses. I haven't put on such a spectacle since the early 1200s -- ooh, it will be so much fun!"

Unable to contain its excitement any longer, it popped off Charlie's head to go make the Sorting announcement.

Gryffindor!

[ugly-old-hat.livejournal.com]

Red curtains and red liquor...oh, I know just where to Sort you! The Ravenclaw bar, the Hufflepuff foodlibraries, the Slytherin hookah bar and chaw parlor, and that sketchy beauty parlor slash one-person bordello in Sparklypoo will have nothing on what you could do for the House whose only attribute of note is a piddly little fitness room.

Your bribe has been accepted.

Welcome to Gryffindor!