Owl to Nathan

[likeabadpenny.livejournal.com]

( An owl delivers, completely unwarded and uncharmed in any way. )

Application: Petyr Baelish (A.K.A. Littlefinger), A Song of Ice and Fire

[petyr-baelish.livejournal.com]

((Littlefinger's motives for coming to Hogwarts stolen from Camilla. Thanks!))

A short man with grey-green eyes and a goatee strolled leisurely through the Great Hall to the head table. His elegant silk blue cloak with its silver mockingbird clasp was caked with mud, but he was smiling. "I should really have a talk with that Thoros," he drawled. "His directions were awful." He gave a low bow. "My name's Petyr Baelish, though you can call me Littlefinger. I was informed I might find what I'm looking for here."

At that, his expression darkened. "You see, all my life, I've dreamed of one thing," he said, "something that keeps me awake at nights, inflamed with passion, longing to feel her sweet, sweet lips upon my own as I run my fingers through her silky auburn hair, and that thing is...uh, magic." He coughed. "Yes, that's it. Magic. It's a nearly dead art where I'm from, you see, so I'm eager to study it at Hogwarts. Archaic magical lore is all so fascinating."

He gave his best I'm-totally-not-up-to-something look. It hurt his face; those muscles had atrophied from disuse years ago.

Meanwhile, he scanned the room to acquaint himself with his new surroundings. The floating chandeliers, the four long tables, the ceiling bewitched to look like the night sky--all were as his informers had described them. His upper lip curled at the large hat waiting for him on the stool. "Oh, do I have to put that dirty old thing on my head? Charming. Well, I'd best get on with it."  

( Spoilers for A Song of Ice and Fire follow. )

"I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. --PB.
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. --PB.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. --PB
One day, marmalade will rule the world (as a figurehead, while I control everything behind the scenes). --PB"

Application for The Fool, Tawny Man trilogy

[foolbeloved.livejournal.com]

An apparently young man appears in the Sorting room. He looks dazed, and very nearly stumbles: a rare occurance indeed. He's slight, with tawny skin and deep, amber eyes; his golden hair seems almost weightless. The youth is dressed in plain black, well made but not expensive, something that makes him frown: no chance of appearing as Lord Golden. It seems equally foolish to present himself as the Fool. But this is clearly not Buckkeep, or Bingtown, or indeed anywhere he'd found himself before; perhaps he could be whomever he liked, for a time. It's an odd thought.

He walks forward, graceful as a cat, until he finds the application.

( Fitz fixes fiest's fits. Fat suffices. )

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

(no subject)

[ringoate-mybaby.livejournal.com]

RP Cluster 9: Tents 38-41

[ringoate-mybaby.livejournal.com]

((Open to Bart Allen, Oz, George St. Bartleigh, Doug Murphy, Rogue, Willow Rosenberg, Janet Fraiser, Zelgadiss Graywords))

( Calling Cluster Nine, Calling Cluster Nine... )

The Hat marries people, yo. (Open to those who signed up)

[ugly-old-hat.livejournal.com]

One bright Hogwarts morning, fliers with small, numbered Hat-shaped plastic tokens are sent out to a select group of students via house elf. “Your presence is required at an Awards Ceremony in the Great Hall tonight,” the flier states. “Attendance is mandatory. Formal dress is required. Prizes will be given.”

And so, at the appointed time, the students are ushered into the Great Hall. It has been lavishly decorated for the occasion: streamers, flowers, a champagne fountain, the works. At the front of the hall sits the Sorting Hat, likewise decorated in a wreath of flowers and lots of bling. It sits imperiously and waits until everyone has taken a seat and the beautifully decorated doors have been closed and barred.

“My dear students,” it begins, “we are gathered here today for a wonderful ceremony. A ceremony of magic and beauty, and it is my privilege to be here with you. Now, before you can get your wonderful awards--” here one of the Hat's folds dips in what might have been a wink on something with a face--”are you all carrying your special prize tokens?” It waits for a little longer while the attending house elves (all carrying bouquets of multicolored flowers) check to ensure that yes, everyone in the room has one on their person. “Wonderful! By the power vested in me by the Board of Education, I now pronounce you married!”

Before the shock and outrage can set in, the Hat rushes into the next part of its speech. “No use getting upset, it's legal now! This place has become a haven for loose morals, and you're helping to fix that! Don't worry about your belongings, you won't have to spend a second sweating and becoming undesirable for your new spouses! While you've been here, the house elves have moved your sundries out to your new homes for you, isn't that nice of them? They've even been allowed to charm your new homes so that you can't remove your objects from them! Let's hear it for the house elves!” It doesn't pause for applause. “Now, I'll let you happy newlyweds get to the business of consummating your new relationships in the name of duck waffles procreation. Your tokens are numbered with your new addresses, and a map has been provided at the door. Don't try to run, the ushers have been provided with cattle prods and given the permission to use them.” The Hat waves a strap at one terrified-looking bouquet-holding elf near the front, who pulls a cattle prod out of the flowers and waves it around. “And now, onward! Onward to happy families! Onward to El Mundo Del Sombrero!”

The doors open. The armed house elves swarm, herding the students to a tent village on Hogwarts grounds. Resistance is futile.

Once arriving at the tent whose number matches the number on their token, each student will meet his or her new spouse(s) ...



((The tents in El Mundo Del Sombrero are wizarding tents that appear to be one-bedroom houses complete with bathrooms, kitchens, living rooms, etc. inside. Rearranging and addition of objects is allowed, removal of objects for the purposes of moving elsewhere or returning to the castle is not due to the charm on the tents. Players are allowed to NPC the house elves shocking their own characters if an escape attempt is made. Note that characters will not be barred from returning to the castle later to do other things, e.g., use the library; they just can't move back into the castle. Congratulations on your nuptials.

Feel free to RP in this post, or to post your own separate posts that take place within the dubious sanctuary of your brand-new tent!))

Open RP - Tent 12, Dun dun dunnn.

[parlulilaloo.livejournal.com]

( Oh, well, imagine // as I'm pacing the pews in a church corridor // and I can't help but to hear // no, I can't help but to hear an exchanging of words. // 'What a beautiful wedding! // What a beautiful wedding!' says a bridesmaid to a waiter // 'Ah, yes, but what a shame // what a shame, the poor groom's bride is a whore.' )

[Open RP] The Hat is getting sued?

[charlesofdensen.livejournal.com]

Hidden in each tent (thanks to the combined efforts of his three ravens), there was a notice:

If you want to enter a class action law against the Sorting Hat for coercing you into marriage, please go to Tent 34 for more information.

Charles Ofdensen

EDITO:

He then dashes a letter to whoever in the band got tricked:

Tent 34. Band Meeting. NOW.

Charles Ofdensen

OOC: Marriage fanworks!

[secondfastest.livejournal.com]

To begin:
( Hobo threesome hug. )

Feel free to post your own!