forged message is owled to Judy Poovey, totally unwarded

[c-macaulay.livejournal.com]

Camilla's initial plan hadn't gotten her anywhere. Time to enact plan B. Charles had always been the twin most talented in forgery; Camilla could only hope her attempt to mimic Richard's handwriting turned out half as well.

She dared not ward it, in case anyone thought to use Priori Incantatem -- not that she considered Judy clever enough to think of such a thing, or savvy enough to suspect the owl as less than authentic. Camilla worded the message carefully. She wanted it to sound as much like Richard as possible. The result might have said more about Camilla's idea of Richard than about the man himself ...

Dear Judy,

I know you're in this tent village too. I just can't bring myself to face you, after the tragedy that the Hat's brought upon us all. Marrying another woman has been the worst mistake of my life, even though it was completely not my idea and not my fault.

Being forcibly secluded here has given me occasion to think long and hard about the other mistakes I've made over the years. There have been many. I'm living with two of them right now. The time I did spend with you really showed me the kind of people I ought to be around, the best kind of people. If only we were back at Hampden with Jud and Cloke and the rest again, I'd do everything differently this time.

But tempus fugit, Judy my dear. We can only go forward.

And I want to go forward. With you.

I know it's too late. I just wish with all my heart that it weren't.

Fondly,
R.P.

Owl to Dean

[racheltherunner.livejournal.com]

( Owl to Dean )

Owl to Private Groupie ((Axel))

[redsarge.livejournal.com]

"Gone-blasted animals, why can’t he jus 'ave a radio?"

Was the cry students and teachers alike would have heard as Sarge struggled to capture one of the flying beasties once he worked out that waving his shotgun around at them did nothing.

"I'm all for carrier pigons but thi's ridiculous." 

---

( To Private Groupie )

If the Invisible Man sends owls, would he write in Invisible Ink?

[invisibleclaude.livejournal.com]

( Owl to Noah Bennet )

( Owl to Sandra Bennet )

closed RP: Camilla visits the new and improved Dean!hut

[c-macaulay.livejournal.com]

Capricious house elves. They'd let Camilla go to Sortings, or to the library. The rest of the time they insisted she stay in the tent village. She tried waving Francis's birdwatching binoculars at them, pleading to be allowed at least this hobby, but it hadn't held much water with them until on a stroke of inspiration Camilla claimed she wanted to go see the groundskeeper, to ask him about birdwatching spots on campus. For some reason that had a ring of veracity to them, or perhaps invoking the name of a staff member was what did the trick. Camilla couldn't be sure. Anyway she knew the groundskeeper, though not well, and she'd intended to drop by sometime anyhow.

When bored or otherwise at loose ends, Camilla had a habit of dropping by acquaintances' places unannounced. Most of her friends did this. (At least she didn't help herself to the contents of their refrigerators, the way Bunny did.)

Camilla had never actually been to the groundskeeper's hut before, so she had little notion it had ever been other than what she saw before her now. The ramshackle structure bore the definite signs of a woman's touch, down to the bright floral salutation that passed for a welcome mat. Frilly pink curtains peeped through the windows, nary a cobweb to be seen. A set of windchimes hung from the eaves near the door, pealing a cheery cascade of notes when the summer breeze stirred them.

Either Dean was a surprising find for gay men -- straight-acting, totally butch, yet his taste in decor went to the extremes of effeminacy! -- or that woman Lily'd been talking about had decided to mark her territory. What was her name? Oh, Rebecca or something, Camilla hadn't really thought it important enough to process. Well, it hardly mattered.

Elaborate binoculars dangling from a strap in her hand, she raised her other hand to knock lightly at the front door. "Hello? Dean?"

OOC: And lo! she returns!

[wombatminer.livejournal.com]

((Not sure if anyone remembers me - I joined last winter, apped a few characters, and then went on a hiatus at the beginning of the summer that was supposed to be a couple of weeks and turned into three months. Anyway, I'm back, and looking forward to getting back into the crack that is HH.

I'll continue with Digger and Nealan of Queenscove, and hope to finish up Momiji Sohma's sorting. However, I'm going to have to drop a couple, for the time being, at least - as such, Malingo and Niki/Jessica Sanders have been popcorned.

Hope to see you all around!))

Standoff (closed RP)

[ian-ma1co1m.livejournal.com]

((Continues from this post in this thread))

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife, Ian thought. But on second thought, knives in this room might be a very bad idea right now.

Alan Grant and Billy Brennan stood stock-still and furious. Laura Palmer was looking frantically from one to the other, unsure of what to say without setting them off. Time to step into the breach. He held up both hands.

"Okay, everybody, take a deep breath, relax, have a drink. Remember we're all friends here," he said evenly. "More or less," he added under his breath.

Michael FINALLY finds out that Tinky Winky is back!

[office-michael.livejournal.com]

August 28th.

The date flickered into Michael's head, letters of fuzzy purple against a grassy green expanse of nothingness, then circled themselves insistently in a sort of pink plasma reminiscent of Tubby Tustard, demanding his attention.

August 28th.

His eyes suddenly widening, Michael uncurled from the fetal position he had resumed (it had become his habit to sleep outside the Popcorn Room, waiting for Tinky Winky to return), standing up without any problems and dusting himself off. To Guano and Pam, he announced (without any seeming surprise at their presence), "It's Tinky Winky's Coming Out Day today. We need to throw him a party. A Gay Ol' Time Party. To celebrate his gayness and the gay life he lived while he lived life."

Pause. "And then I ought to probably check on Dunder Mifflin. Jan Levinson's going to kill me if she calls and finds out the branch went under because nobody was running it." Well, Dwight had really been doing a hell of a lot to keep things going, but that counted as nobody, pretty much, anyway. "And make sure the owners of the Little Green Apple don't find out Tinky Winky's popcorn because then they might try to start a hostile takeover." Nothing went with shishka and expensive perfume oils like chaps and chaw, after all. Michael knew this, and he was concerned.

Tone absolutely normal, plucking at the lapel of the suit he was wearing as if not quite aware of it specifically but totally aware but not really but also subconciously not happy with the unmanliness of his attire (he had accidentally worn a women's suit), "Pam, can you command the House Elves to get the Party Planning Committee to get a pink triangular cake ready? They'll probably listen to you since you're probably the hottest in the office next to Ryan, who's not here now anyway. Guano, you can help me decorate the Popcorn Room with...." He trailed off, realizing that Guano was so wasted away from two months of no Tubby Tustard that the best he could probably do was lie there and stare up at the ceiling.

"Pam! Also ask the House Elves to make Guano some Tustard!" It might not be of the Tubby variety, but Guano had to be saved! At Michael's words, Guano's tail wagged weakly.

Michael hadn't been in the Popcorn Room since seeing Tinky Winky's name on the plaque. Which is not really essential information at this point, but why not share it anyway?

Open RP

[impulsivekid.livejournal.com]

ZOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!

There is a rising rooster tail out across the lake, building in size and length as a red blur moves across it's surface.

ZOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!

And again, it Crosses the lake, growing even bigger.

ZOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!

And one last time, so that now there are good, ten foot waves washing back and forth across the lake.

"Hang ten, dude!" And there is Bart, still in his costume, riding a surfboard through the barrel. Cause sometimes, you need to get away from the husband and relax.