Semi-Open RP - Zim and GIR drank too much.

[gr8testirkeneva.livejournal.com]

((Backdated to just after Callahan's sorting/app))

Zim decided - whilst marching proudly- that the corridors of Hogwarts was something to be seen in ones life. He thought that maybe once he'd destroyed the filthy human skinmeats he might keep this place. Or build one just like it...but better...with lasers...and no filthy human stinkmonsters.

He turned to tell this to GIR.

"GIIIR? Oh, GIIIIR~! Guess whut GIR...I AM ZIM. I am miiighty ZIM, and when I am more superer mighty ZIM that I am. I will make another...uhm...floory, building thing. BUT BETTER! With more stinking, stupid humans." He stopped stumbling around, "I mean more than nono. Less. Fewer stinking humaaans."

"GAH, HOW I HATE THEM, GIR!"

Owl to Stephen Maturin

[usethepoker.livejournal.com]

( Lightly warded to turn into a coconut for unintended readers )

owl to Dr Alan Grant

[chance-silvey.livejournal.com]

Grant -

Have you ever heard of a 'magical liopleurodon'? I tried to owl you about it a while back, but I think the owl got misdirected. I got back a crayon drawing of ... something.

In the meantime I've been looking up references. Someplace called Candy Mountain is implicated. I can't find any clues as to where that might be, except that the nearest municipality is called Caketown.

- Chance

Open RP - Lunchtime in the Great Hall

[wrinklesintime.livejournal.com]

Meg sat in the Great Hall, a plate of pizza in front of her and an elementary arithmancy book propped open. She was studying the pages intently, chewing on a quill and frowning.

Meg had always been good at math, but she was still a bit lacking on the basics of magic. She thought maybe her attempts at studying arithmancy were a little like a six-year-old's attempts to understand advanced algebra. Well, no, maybe she shouldn't make that comparison. Charles Wallace, she was fairly certain, could take a look at this stuff and intuit it automatically.

"Why can't you be here, Charles?" she muttered, swallowing the lump in her throat. She missed her younger brother desperately sometimes, almost more than she missed anyone else from her old life.

She picked up the slice of pizza on her plate and bit into it. Gillian had been right. The elves really could make good pizza.

Looking around the Great Hall, Meg considered finding someone to talk to. She'd been living inside her head too much recently, and her only real companion had been a rather... colorful person named Luna who had been trying to get Meg to understand about the Iluminati and the threat they posed to the world. Meg had done a good job of listening without looking bored, and at least Luna provided amusement and wasn't horribly bad company. All the same, Meg was still glad she'd managed to ditch her. Last night, Luna had confided in her that the new astronomy teacher hadn't heard of Xenu, and Meg had been half-afraid to admit that she, too, had never heard of such a person.

Sighing, she shoved her arithmancy book in the backpack she'd acquired recently and told herself that she probably didn't look all that welcoming to other people with her nose buried in a book all the time.

Application: Reinette Poisson (Doctor Who)

[lareinette.livejournal.com]

((both the ninth doctor and Rose Tyler have given permission for this application to be processed. Also, this Reinette never died, she is still waiting for her Doctor to come back through the fireplace.))

A beautiful blond woman glides into the room, her elaborate, jewel encrusted skirts held just high enough to show off the embroidered satin of each high heeled slipper.  Her head is held high, the golden curls atop her crown are coiled in an elaborate coiffure that only an artist could have envisioned.  Diamonds and pearls  adorn her throat and dangle from her ears while golden thread has been woven into the bodice just below her impressively corseted décolletage.  Her flawless alabaster skin makes it difficult to assess her age, but the knowing, confident expression upon her lovely face suggests a wisdom one might not usually associate with one such as she.  Reinette Poisson, Madame de Pompadour conducts herself as royalty and this is evident as she takes her seat; adjusting her voluminous skirts over closed knees and displaying such impeccable posture that her back doesn’t even approach resting against the seat.  Her gaze addresses the room then, an enigmatic smile adorning her lips, as she seemingly prepares to take on the world.

( Application )

"I have read the hogwarts hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. __RP_.
I have read the hogwarts hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. _RP_.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. __RP_.
One day, marmalade Love, will rule the world.  ___RP_.

Staff Meeting

[kahnooloo.livejournal.com]

Cheese and crackers, pumpkin pasties, cauldron cakes, and pies and tarts of at least a dozen varieties were laid out by house-elves along the sides of the Staff Room. And when all the staff had assembled in the chairs provided (a short chair was even provided for the Easter Bunny), Kahnooloo leapt up onto a desk at the front of the classroom and began to speak.

( Dah doo-ay! )

Application for Miles Vorkosigan

[chaotic-miles.livejournal.com]

((Permits for this app have been granted from Bothari-mun, even though she is a complete and total wanker... Also, because we're the same person.))
The door to the sorting room abruptly banged open, admitting a whirlwind of manic energy in the form of a short--in fact, dwarfish--young man in what appeared to be full military uniform. He looked around the room and muttered, "This is not the docking area. What the hell? Is this a castle?"

Off to one side he noticed the quick movements of the Dictaquill and he limped over to examine a table containing the application. The quill had just recorded his words.

The young man picked up the application and commenced pacing, reading over the questions. "I wish I could figure out what this all means," he said aloud. "Cheese? Bartending in the dark? This is either some kind of experiment, or else I've been captured by particularly sadistic Cetagandans, and this is a form of psychological torture." He flicked his gaze up to the celing, but could detect no security cameras. "Hmmm. They've got to be monitoring this place somehow. And that quill... thing... is still writing down everything I say." He paused his pacing, turned a slightly maniacal grin in the direction of the ceiling and waved at where a camera should be. "Hi there, whoever you are. Oh, well. What can I do but play along? It'll pass the time and maybe I'll figure out what your game is in the meantime."

( Miles Vorkosigan's thoughts on Yaoi. )

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

OWL-CV

[forcedexile.livejournal.com]

( Curriculum Vittae )

Closed RP: Snape and Dumbledore Reunion

[google-agent.livejournal.com]

((Backdated like woah, to just after Snape’s meeting with Lily ))

His mind and body was tired by the time he returned to his rooms that evening. He wasn’t upset, he didn’t feel he was going to cry. He felt numb and tired. It was like an odd, horrible dream. The dead were dead. That was it. That was as far as it went. For it to suddenly switch on him…he felt cheated. He shut the door behind him and slumped back against it, breathing slowly and put his hands over his face.

He was ashamed to admit that it took him nearly twenty seconds to realize that there was a blazing, merry fire crackling away and someone in the room with him, sitting in an armchair and holding what appeared to be a pair of knitting needles. His arms fell to his sides.

He stared, face passive for a long moment. He knew that after his meeting with Lily and seeing Sirius again that he should have expected this. Thinking about the Headmaster’s death, however, had been something he had avoided thus far. Planning and discussing had been fine enough to handle, but after the actual deed…it had become a lot harder to justify ones actions. He moved his arms, by his side, to fold. He inhaled deeply, “I see. Well, I shouldn’t be surprised.”