Application: Alfons Heiderich

[nazibyproxy.livejournal.com]

((Just a quick note to say that Alfons looks just the same as Alphonse Elric, but a couple years older, and he has blue eyes. Also short hair.))

A sudden, painful twinge in his forehead coaxed Alfons into awakening. He groaned as he sat up and rubbed his forehead. He thought back at what the possible cause could be, then he remember last night at the Braurei. He hadn’t planned on drinking that much, but when someone announced that his wife was pregnant, the celebration had began. It was also a rare time he saw Edward genuinely enjoying himself, and he hadn’t wanted to interrupt it. The last thing of last night he remembered was helping Edward up the stairs.

But this desk, it wasn’t his. Had he gone to one of the others’ places? No, this didn’t look like anywhere familiar. His thoughts were interrupted by a series of coughs as the fluid in his lungs shifted. Then he felt a jab of pain in the back of his hand. He glanced to it, and found a quill dancing and poking him insistently. This had to be some kind of dream. He took it, and looked down at the paper in front of him. If this was a dream, then it seemed reasonable to play along.

( If only it really was a dream )

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

Owls: Sorting Bribes

[ayameonaplane.livejournal.com]

Ayame had spent most of the time since his sorting holed up in his room, which was now covered in snippets of thread, designing and sewing and getting house-elves to go find out people's measurements for him. Finally, his sorting bribes were done. A flurry of owls went out, each bearing a package and a note. They're not warded, because Ayame's been too busy sewing to learn any magic yet.

( To Wolfram von Bielefeld )

( To Tomo Takino )

( To Michael Scott )

( To the Sorting Hat )

Closed RP: Not-Christmas Dinner

[blue-ataru.livejournal.com]

It was Friday, and that meant dinner for two. Aayla had tried to cook spaghetti and meatballs, and was relatively sure that they were fit for consumption. She had tossed a meatball to her new raven Quin and it hadn't seemed to affect him adversely, anyway.

Her room in Gryffindor was rather bare, as she had been raised to avoid attachment and it showed. Still, she had managed to drag her desk out where it would serve as an adequate table and borrowed an extra chair. The half-finished carvings that she had been working on were all moved from the desk's surface and carefully placed on her pillow where they wouldn't be stepped on and broken--except for the one that she was currently working on, which was beginning to take the shape of a Delta-7 Aethersprite fighter. She sat in a chair and worked on it as she waited, using an abrading spell that she had stumbled upon.