hh_mirror | Entries tagged with archangel michael

gourmetchairman.livejournal.com

Which, the mun decided, took place on the 11th, so as not to interfere with the sex bomb plot.

It was a most unusual battle, certainly. After all, children did not normally battle in Kitchen Stadium.

However, it wasn't every day that Kaga found two willing participants.

Pippi Longstocking and Rika Furude battled against each other for the right to be called 'Chibi Iron Chef', an honorary title, but a title nonetheless.

As they were so young, Kaga summoned two of his ~~minions~~ chefs, Iron Chef Tako and Iron Chef Dwight Schrute, to assist the challengers. Iron Chef Schrute assisted and advised Pippi Longstocking, and Iron Chef Tako assisted Rika Furude.

Kaga unveiled the theme ingredient to be bananas, chosen for their kid-friendliness (and cause he loves bananas).

Furude managed to convince Tako to help her a little more than necessary (and technically more than the rules allowed), but she looked so cute and innocent she got away with it. Tako, for his part, insisted on adding plenty of nutmeg to the dishes. (He also had a bit of a fanboy: Beowulf showed up to be very loud and cheer Tako on.)

Longstocking made a mess, but surprisingly her pet monkey Mr. Nilssen was a well trained cook as well. Not to mention her guinea pig to her mostly dessert laden dishes. (Not that Kaga was complaining.) ~~thankfully~~ She mostly ignored her adviser's help and worked independently.

Her dishes consisted of:

Banana bread with whipped cream and strawberries, a cake built of pancakes with bananas and chocolate syrup and more whipped cream between the layers, and banana pudding!

Five judges judged instead of the usual four, to avoid a tie. Among the judges were the archangel Michael, a wanderer named Ginko, and Princess Peach had been invited back. (Gotta fill the Bimbo du Jour quota, after all).

In the end, it was a close match but Pippi Longstocking won, 3-2, to take the title Chibi Iron Chef.

[[OOC: All permissions given by the respective muns. They also get partial credit for adding details. Hooray for Pippi!]]

patrick-mckenna.livejournal.com

((I am cheating and taking McKenna from way, way before any of the events of Angels and Demons, so there are no spoilers ~~or bits that made me want to tear my hair out.~~))

The newest member of Hogwarts was young for a priest, not even forty. Dressed in a flowing black cassock, he seemed like a silhouette save for the white clerical collar. The stone walls were definitely not the lush office he'd just left. "Hello?" he said in Italian, then again in English, with an Irish accent.

Patrick McKenna took a few deep breaths. He had no idea where he was, or what had just happened, but he was a man who could remain calm in a crisis. He had a quiet, reserved air, and even in his confusion he seemed solid and self-assured. McKenna had natural determination and Army training to thank for keeping him from panicking.

The only clue was a quill on a table. It was floating, and he noticed that it had written his words down. The quill hovered over a sheet of questions. Maybe in exchange for his answers, he could get some of his own.

( Ave Maria, gratia plena... )

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

cosmicteddy.livejournal.com

((Since Michael does need to meet some people... Here he is!))

Since Hogwarts was the type of school that saw teaching as more or less optional, while some of its students were of the studying kind, the library was a frequently frequented place. Michael wished he had the time to assist each and every student personally, but his... other line of work sadly prevented him from doing so. But now, at least, it seemed like the cosmos could manage without his involvement, so he could do something restful and human. He could stack some books, and maybe help some people find what they were looking for.

His gaze went to the empty chair in the corner, where Matilda had used to sit. The little girl had become popcorn not long ago, and Michael noticed her absence more than expected. It was strange that such a small child, who hadn't really done much other than reading for hour on end, could leave such a hole. He knew, though, that whatever she had gone back to, she was going to be happy, and that was comfort enough. Michael was not the type of person to dwell on the negative; eternity was too long for that.

So he was padding around the library in his perpetually wrinked suit, searching for people to help or perhaps treat to a cup of tea. And a pastry. Michael did love his pastries.

Current Mood: calm
Current Location: The Library

noseymaddie.livejournal.com

So, it's that time of year when chocolate bunnies remind us that the Romans killed this guy and he didn't oblige them by staying dead. Inconvenient for the Romans, rather important to many others.

But, one of the traditions is eggs. Just what the eggs have to do with anything is up to interpretation...unless you're one of those 'country' people who believe this time of year is to celebrate fertility.

Maddie, for her part, just thinks colored eggs are lovely. She has convinced the house elves to boil her up a few ~~hundred~~ dozen to decorate.

The mun is dreadfully lazy, though, and has yet to decorate Maddie's egg. For shame.

But, there are plenty more for everyone to decorate. And, perhaps, even, the mun can be convinced to do some work.

fiercefluffy.livejournal.com

A house elf brings a carved ivory figurine of an ox to Maia's room, along with an accompanying note:

I refuse to wish anyone a merry Christmas. The notion of this holiday I find appalling as the religion that spawned it. It disgraces the commemoration of the Larentalia, a serious occasion.

However, this is for you, in observance of the general gift-giving tradition that has arisen around that contemptible cult of a raving desert lunatic.

With fondest regards,
Octavian.

*** added after the above and its subsequent thread ***

A very careful and polite owl is sent to the Archangel Michael.

To Michael, librarian of Hogwarts and archangel, Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus sends greetings.

There is a question which you are best equipped to answer. Assume that there is an evil spirit which needs protection from other evil spirits. The normal charms and amulets for such a use would harm any evil spirit, so that an evil spirit could not employ one without harming itself. Assume too that there is no moral dilemma in the equipping of said evil spirit with protection.

In such a case, what charm would be useful, in your knowledge as cosmic librarian and defender against evil?

Be well.

ugly-old-hat.livejournal.com

The Sorting Hat had been dabbling in way too many fringe philosophies. (Neo-Rosicrucianism? Really, Sorting Hat?) It seemed that puppet!Ron Weasley's name for it, Sorting Hat the Wise, had gone to the Hat's lack-of-visible-head.

On the morning of Dec. 13 (or was it the 14th?) the Hat's esoteric interests affected the school for the second time.

The first instance had been more than a year past, when the Hat took a cue from Rev. Sun Myung Moon and united most of the Hogwarts students in mass marriages. That had been a lengthy and concerted effort by the Hat and its house-elf minions, opposed vigorously by the wicked (or noble??) Kojiro. Kojiro's kidnapping of the Hat's bride had been something of a turning point for the headstrong headgear.

This new instance ... even Kojiro might be powerless to counter. And the Hat's agency would be difficult, if not impossible, to discern.

In a mighty magical working, the Hat projected many of the students ... to the astral plane, in their astral forms.

Astral Hogwarts resembled the real material Hogwarts (well, the Sorting Hat's version of material Hogwarts) very closely indeed. There were some dissimilarities: did Hogwarts, on the material plane, really sparkle so much? Were there so many rainbows in the sky, without a hint of rain to prompt their presence? Were there really pastel-colored unicorns frolicking on the grounds? Unicorns with hair made of cotton candy?

Could the students fly without brooms in material Hogwarts?

Other than that, it would be instantly recognizable as Hogwarts. The astral students would find nothing jarringly unfamiliar, being astral themselves. No disorientation, as there had been with the mass weddings; only a pleasant surprise, if they did happen to remember the absence of pastel unicorns and self-propelled flight.

Finally the Hat would have achieved paradise! Too bad not all the students could be brought into this happy realm. The Hat hadn't quite figured out how to bring everyone en masse. But many of them could be.

Including Kojiro, perhaps ...

(( OOC note: People are welcome to RP astral shenanigans here, or to start their own new posts for interactions of a closed variety. Please, if you embark on NSFW action, make a new post so that it can be lj-cut with appropriate warnings. ))

totallyluminous.livejournal.com

You ever get that thing, sometimes, where you know you have to be somewhere? Not in that crappy novel-you-packed-for-the-hols way, where the hero's all 'I just...knew' when asked some question by the stupid heroine why he was there when she was about to be eaten by a shark, but when something's almost pulling you irresistabl--right, no, of course you don't. Angels do, though.

So it comes that before Mel can much question it, Helix has her walking down a stone corridor, shoes echoing somewhat. Helix is rarely, if ever, wrong. Mel's learnt to go with her inner angel, though it's been difficult. Helix pushed her to keep training, martial arts and connecting more strongly with the Link, until she's turned into what she is now--able to save her world, if she does it right. And maybe, just maybe, she needs to talk to Michael about this, even if she hasn't mentioned it to Lola or Brice.

But the archangel who runs her school might be a good port of call when she feels this saving-the-world gig might be coming up on her soon. She pushes open the heavy doors of the library and almost drifts in, swallowing a lump in her throat. This conversation might be a bit hard to handle.

Current Mood: calm
Current Location: The Library

we-shall-see.livejournal.com

Is it possible to be so bored you die? No.

Is it possible to be so bored you long for the days you were under cover orchestrating military coups drinking unpasturized goat's milk wearing a hat that looked like a tea cozy and probably infested with fleas? Strangely enough, yes.

Is it possible to whistle the Queen of the Night's aria? Gust is doing his level best to find out. Rudely enough, in a library (albeit, in the back shelves, searching for books with the rudest curses he can possibly find, this side of the Restricted Section.)

lemondrop-party.livejournal.com

Pleased to learn that a new Astronomy professor had been appointed, Dumbledore dashed off a quick invitation to Bean, identical to the invitations he had sent the other members of the Hogwarts faculty. Then he toddled off to the staff lounge in his best high-heeled boots. Time to ready the room for his tea party.

The house elves had assembled a staggering array of teabags, teapots, varieties of tea, tea-related accessories, sweeteners natural and artificial, tea sandwiches with crusts off, pastries, biscuits, et cetera, hopefully not ad nauseam. Dumbledore bustled about happily, humming to himself like the bumblebee who shared his name, charming napkins into origami shapes. As a final touch, he zapped a dish of clotted cream with a simple food-coloring spell to rainbow its contents.

The final effect he deemed quite satisfactorily cheery.

He knew better than to hope the group he had invited would mesh well. No faculty ever did, unless confronted with some shared enemy, and those were not forthcoming: Voldemort was popcorn, the Headmistress and Sorting Hat were best left alone, and Dumbledore did not think it kind to gang up on poor Kojiro. Nonetheless, he preferred heterogeneity, even with its attendant discord. In diversity lay strength!

To make sure they mingled well, he turned himself invisible (something he could do without an Invisibility Cloak, because he was just special like that). Now they would have to talk among themselves, rather than waiting for the former Headmaster to moderate their discussion or play the host. At the proper moment he could always duck out of the room and reappear properly with apologies for his lateness...

lemondrop-party.livejournal.com

Severus' return made Dumbledore both glad and a bit concerned. Things were so different here than the Hogwarts he and Snape had shared. Acclimation would surely not be easy for the former Potions Master. Having secured a faculty position would help somewhat, yet so many of the faculty were not from the wizarding world ...

Then again, that might be a blessing in disguise, might it not? All his life, the half-blood Prince had been embattled by the interminable internecine feuding of wizards. Now, here, his former home had become a more open place, populated mostly by people who neither knew nor cared much about the old feuds.

It was therefore with slight ulterior motives that Dumbledore penned tea-party invitations to all the faculty and staff of Hogwarts.

( owls to Kahnooloo, Jack Harkness, Ssillissa, Kon-El, Valentine Wolfe, Alan Grant, HR Pufnstuf, Ron Weasley, Archangel Michael, Ford Prefect, Kusuriyuri, Mr. Wednesday, Simkin, Homsar, Severus Snape, Johnny C., and Vislor Turlough )

cosmicteddy.livejournal.com

There was something amazingly soothing about libraries, even magical ones. It was nice to have a place like this to return to, after flinging around the Universe a few times and making it, in general, a better place. Michael was an exceedingly busy person, but he made time for Hogwarts and the library. He needed breaks like this. Managing cosmos was stressful work; managing books... less so. And besides, it occupied his mind so that he didn't worry needlessly about his students being away on missions. It was pointless to worry. What would be, would be.

Currently Michael was stacking books, and he did it the human way. It was such a wonderfully normal thing to do, and he took some pride and pleasure in it. Michael had never been human, so this was refreshingly new.

Young Matilda sat as usual in her big chair and devoured one thick book after another, while her furby slept by her feet. Michael knew better than to disturb her, and instead only smiled to himself. Having a happy human being there (better yet, a happy child), was like having a little personal heater or a nightlight in the library. In this strange and bizarre environment, she knew exactly who she was and what she liked. Angels always approved of humans like that.

Michael had put out a plate of assorted pastries on a table, hoping it would bring some students to the library. (All the books had, practically enough, been placed under enchantments to make sure they weren't going to get spilled on... Michael was new at the librarian job, but he did know a few things.) He also had plenty of tea. Somehow, he was under the impression that he was expected to drink a lot of tea.

((Feel free to drop by and bother Michael! Since he's powerful, it's more than likely that he'll know your character's name without them telling him, but that's all. He won't confess to knowing anything else about them without mun permission, to avoid godmodding.))

nicknamegirl.livejournal.com

( To Jaime, warded and charmed to shimmer in gold )

After having sent the owl off, Lola grabbed her belongings and hurried down. Michael had arranged for a time flight to come pick up everyone, but it had to be done outside the school grounds for some reason. He'd said it had to do with all the magical disturbances in the atmosphere, but Lola hadn't quite understood the mechanics around it. Presumably you had to be an archangel to really do.

She jogged out into the chilly Scotland air and instantly spotted Brice and Mel. They were standing there, as ready as they could be, though Brice seemed tenser than usual and Mel was clearly worried. Lola wished, not for the first time, that she could go on the same mission as her friends. It shouldn’t be too difficult, though? They just had to escort a reincarnated bodhisattva to his new place of education, with the monks in the northern part of India, where he’d learn everything he needed to learn to hopefully bring world peace to the 21st century...

Yeah, no problem at all. To add an extra amount of fretting to the equation, little Obi was only four years old, and Lola knew he was a particular favourite of Mel's. Brice was attached to the little guy too, as much as a very macho and obviously suave and cool teenage guy could be to a preschooler.

"You ready?" Mel asked quietly, smiling as well as she could.

Lola gave her best friend and soulmate a sweet smile back, trying to calm herself down. "Carita, we'll be back before we know it." She squeezed Mel's hand. "Older and wiser. Just don't get PODS slime on my boots."

That at least elicited a grim grin from Brice and a wan giggle from Mel. The girls hugged, and then parted, Mel's hands fiddling with her tags, Lola double-checking that she had everything. Brice was just staring into space, a muscle moving in his cheek. The prospect of Hell interference was doubly worse for him; even if he was better at sniffing out Dark agents than most angels, deserting the Powers of Darkness meant they were keener than usual to ruin their mission.

In the sticky, uncomfortable silence, Lola felt a shimmer go through her body, like she was rising into the air. Michael. Being in the presence of an archangel never gets old. He materialised in front of the three, and smiled, crumpled suit and tired eyes not having a single affect on his peaceful vibe. The air suddenly felt easier to breathe, and it smelled of lilacs. Heaven.

"Ah, yes," said Michael. "Good that you are all here... Is everyone ready?"

Current Mood: nervous
Current Location: Outside Hogwarts grounds

lemondrop-party.livejournal.com

Having an active librarian would be good for Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore was sure. In a school now comprised largely of nontraditional students, a school whose student body ranged at all levels of academic achievement and who must rely primarily on independent study, the library would be even more crucial to the ongoing project of education.

Given some of the Board of Governors' unorthodox choices in hiring, Albus did not allow himself to hope for much. Therefore he was not only pleased but surprised when word came that the archangel Michael had been given the job. Granted, it didn't seem much of a lateral career move to go from guarding Eden with a flaming sword to guarding the Restricted Section with a pad of demerit slips. Albus did know that this was not Michael's first detour into the field of higher education, however. Doubtless the angel had his own reasons for being here.

(Albus had to admit he might harbor a little curiosity as to what those reasons were; but only a little. With angels and demons and antichrists and Tinky Winky Himself roaming the school grounds, nothing was to be wondered at.)

So Dumbledore visited the library with an officewarming gift for the new librarian. The basket held various stationery supplies, a large mug for tea with a lid that screwed on to prevent spills, and a copy of Bookbinding and the Conservation of Books: A Dictionary of Descriptive Terminology.

He did not sing or even hum as he wound his way through the stacks and knocked finally at the librarian's office door. He respected library etiquette!

Current Mood: amiable
Current Location: library

cosmicteddy.livejournal.com

( Curriculum vitae )

Current Mood: hopeful

makeminemayday.livejournal.com

((Hey all - posting this NOW for the people across the pond. Secret Santa is still open, but due to shower lines, packing, traffic and a tyrannical 5-year-old, I have NO IDEA when I'll be home. Use it to mingle. May/Jaime/Tomo will be tagging sometime later tonight, I just can't say when.))

Decorations? Check.

Enough food and drink to feed an army? Check.

Slightly annoyed house elves because May hadn't let them risk their necks decorating the Great Hall (hey, sticking to walls could come in handy when you were hanging garlands)? Check.

Well, things looked good, May mused as she adjusted the hem of her red sweater dress and the Christmas light necklace she was wearing.

Nobody involved in the Secret Santa exchange had complained, not even Tomo (or Tomo's ~~victim~~ recipient). She literally jumped over a pair of house elves carrying trays as the first few people started trickling in, waving to them. "Hi, come on in! Merry Christmas!"

((Backdated to Christmas Day, of course! Secret Santa participants are expected to show up with one more gift for the recipient and to unmask themselves. Make sure that everyone who participated in the Secret Santa exchange has started a thread. Look for the thread of the person your character gave gifts to, and have them reveal/introduce themselves.

This is NOT just for Secret Santa stuff, of course, it's open to the whole school. Be warned, though, if anybody starts a physical fight in the Great Hall, Mayday will DEFINITELY try to break it up or get you to take it outside. Especially after what happened last year. Please make an OOC note if you don't want her to notice.))

makeminemayday.livejournal.com

((Backdated to November 1. I know I said no more Halloween posts, I forgot about this, shut up. XD ))

Several owls go out anonymously to a group of people, none of them signed, and charmed so the handwriting is not recognizable to the reader. There's nothing creative about the warding, really, the writer just wasn't in the mood.

( Owl to Michael, warded )

( Owl to Trilby, warded so that only he can open the suitcase )

( Package to Francis Abernathy )

( Owl to Tomo Takino )

( Owl to Benton Fraser, warded )

The last owl is sent out much later, after a great deal of deliberation on the writer's part.

( Owl to Zelgadiss Graywords, very heavily warded )

Current Mood: worried

makeminemayday.livejournal.com

May had just gotten out of the shower after a workout, and was perusing her closet when she overheard the WART broadcast. She smirked when her request was played and as she puttered around, the smirk became devious.

( You woke up this morning / All the love has gone, / Your Papa never told you / About right and wrong. / But you're looking good, baby, / I believe you're feeling fine, (shame about it) / Born under a bad sign / With a blue moon in your eyes )

((Without much else to do, Evil!May has gone out looking to steal, bully, harass, whatever. Is your window open? Is your room unwarded? She'll be in your base, looting through your stuff. ~~Yes, the mun knows it's "in ur base" but can't stand chatspeak.~~ Post a comment if you want an intrusion or a confrontation - just remember if you catch her in the act, she's not going to be contrite.))

Current Mood: devious
Current Music: A3 - "Woke Up This Morning (Chosen One Mix)"

totallyluminous.livejournal.com

Backdated to just after Mel's rp.

( I still remember your light/and it was streaming down and burning out my eyes )

( Very properly-warded owl. It looks rather annoyed, as if it has had to sit through at least three failed wardings because the person who sent it was hopeless at Charms. )

Current Music: Feathery Wings--Voltaire

angelicbadboy.livejournal.com

Since I am about to get company from the Land of Wonder (AKA America), I am going on hiatus, starting tomorrow and continuing for a bit. The company leaves on the 17th, but the day after I'm going on holiday with my family. Estland, baby! I'll be back to my regularly scheduled RPing on the 23rd. I'll still be checking my email (josefin at ingenting dot se, in case you were curious) and will reply if you want me anything.

IC reasons for absence (this is the fun part).
Pippi has had quite anough of this, thank you very much, and has gone out to the Forbidden Forest to find her horse. Really. He's been there ages. She will return, triumphant, with Little Old Man.
Edward is, to the surprise of no one, lying on his bed and remembering wistfully what Bella smells like.
Brice took Mel out to dinner. Yesterday. They're still not back. Hmm.
Lola is baby-sitting Twoey for Brice, and is considering having her own birthday party soon.
Bombalurina, pleased with her recent photo-shoot, is waiting eagerly to examine her pictures and se that yes, she is one fine-looking woman.
Indigo went to the library and found books about Aurors. He now wants to become one, so he's practising wand movements in his room. And makes curry sandwiches for Rose at random intervals.
Quaxo is cleaning his room, or Mistoffelees has threatened to ground him.
And Michael is still in the Sorting Room, giving out pastries to everyone that approaches him.

cosmicteddy.livejournal.com

((When there are only two Angels Unlimited muns, and I am one of them, it was very easy to get permission to app this one. So. No worries!))

There was a humming sound, and then a light as if someone had turned a switch. It was a warm, golden glow, a heavenly light if you will, and it was accompanied by the sweet, simple fragrance of lilacs in bloom. The Sorting Room zinged with energy for a moment or two... and then the light faded, and a man was standing in the same spot. He was wearing a very classy pinstriped suit, which would have looked more elegant if he hadn’t appeared to have slept in it. As it were, it made him look frazzled and jet-lagged.

Then Michael looked up and smiled, and all the kindness, understanding and serenity in the world shone reflected on his face.

“Well.” He cleared his throat and straightened his suit as best he could. It was a futile task, but he wanted to make a good first impression. Michael frowned and patted his chest pockets. “Now, I was sure I had a pen here somewhere... Ah!”

He triumphantly pulled out a traditional 21st century ballpoint pen and began dealing with the application. Sometimes he wrote the answers out himself, and sometimes he let the Dictaquill deal with it. Such a handy little thing!

( Calling the headmaster Michael? How hippie-dippie is that! )

Michael made himself comfortable, brushing some imaginary dust off his trousers and waited for someone to turn up. While he sat there, a passing owl flew into the room and placed itself on his knee, hooting happily. Michael accepted this, smiled at the bird, and scratched it on the head. He spoke to it softly in its own language, a lovely musical sound that all animals understood. The owl looked absolutely blissed out. Animals loved angels.