Clothes-hunting! Dun dun dunn...

[squeegeetodd.livejournal.com]

Squee emptied the last of the ground hamburger into the bowl that he'd commandeered as Moofy's food dish and stood back as the devinesian devil tore into her supper. Taking a deep breath, he stuffed a lump of Shmee-fluff into his pocket, put Shmee on top of his dresser where Moofy wouldn't be able to reach him, and then stepped out of his room into STFU. He probably should have asked what the Crazy Neighbour Man was going to wear to the wedding before agreeing to be the best man...

Application: The Easter Bunny

[tourettesbunny.livejournal.com]

The Easter Bunny had been in the middle of his afternoon nap when he was quite suddenly yanked from his meadow, and into a stone room. Snorting loudly in surprise, he jumps up, clutching a basket full of painted eggs with his paws. Then, as if he realizes he is in the company of people, a warm, cheerful smile spreads across his features.

Being roughly one and a half feet tall, he surveys the room but mostly just the knees of the people along with it. For long minutes, he is content to stand and look cute, twitching his long ears, blinking big eyes at them and making sure his gray fur is extra shiny.

But this whole being cute and cuddly business soon grows tiresome. And there are no children stampeding for chocolate.

With a long, harsh sigh, The Easter Bunny relaxes and scratches low on his stomach, whipping out a cigar from behind his back and lighting it up with a Playboy Bunny lighter pulled from the same strange non-existent space. How he manages to do this with paws that lack opposable thumbs, nobody could say. Narrowing his eyes, the Easter Bunny glares balefully at everyone in the room and takes a deep puff of his cigar to calm himself down.

"Before you ask - no, you're not getting any chocolate from me. These are painted eggs, bitches! None of that ridiculous hollow chocolate crap that has been commercialized over the years! Nobody knows what the real meaning of Easter is anymore!" By now, the Easter Bunny is working himself up into a real bitch-fest, but he suddenly relaxes, forcefully calm, and shrugs scornfully. "Not that I care what the original meaning was, that's been lost through years of different religions anyway. Bah."

( If anybody asks for chocolate, I swear I'll pull a Fat Boy and give you coal instead. )

I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. ______EB______
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. _____EB______.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. Not that I wear any. Oh snap! _____EB______.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. ______EB_______

Pony to House

[coxinsox.livejournal.com]

((Backdated... like, a while. >>; To just after the Hospital Wing RP.))

( Pony to House )

Push and Pull: Sirius and Lily (Closed RP)

[toujours-sirius.livejournal.com]

((Takes place in the wee hours of the night just after this. Now containing R-rated material.))

( Mr. Nothing is late / He's running out of time / He questions whether chance or fate will ever show a sign / Looks to the sky above / For a glimpse of what it means / And never never never make / Make no sense to him / You push and you pull and struggle with the knot / It's tying you up while you're fadin' / You give and you take and take what you got / Round and round 'till it breaks and / You push and you pull and struggle with the knot / It's tying you up while you're fadin' into your lie / You push and you pull it )

Closed rp: Henry Winter meets Brice de Winter

[onewinteryday.livejournal.com]

After the slight trainwreck that was Charles' Sorting, Henry is not in the best of moods. He managed to manipulate it to his advantage; but it is still Charles Macaulay.

He is alone; Camilla is not there (back in Gryffindor, so distraught was she he actually had to tuck her in like a little girl), and he is somewhat glad of that. She must not see him lose control for one second.

Henry almost collides with a dark-haired boy, much younger, in the corridor, and his anger almost explodes.

'Look where you're going,' he snaps in Ancient Greek, and carries on steaming down the corridor.