hh_mirror

mello-n-choco.livejournal.com

I'm getting restless again. It's weird, this place. I am happy here, but there are times I feel trapped by the walls, too. There are times I just want to leave, to vanish and go back to the mafia, but there's too much important to me here. I don't really want to leave, but there are times I want out.

I'm walking down a set of stairs when some idiot runs into me. "Watch where you're going," I snarl, looking up to see this kid in a bright orange coat.

He grinned at me. "I was," he said. "You weren't."

I scowl at him. "What the fuck is that supposed to me?"

He put his hands in his pockets and kept grinning at me. Bastard. "I was watching where I was going."

"And you still chose to run into me," I snap, cutting him off. "What is your problem.

The kid shook his head and turned around, continuing up the stairs I was going down. "By the way," he said, not bothering to turn around to face me. "You should decide which is more important."

"Which what?" I demand.

He looked at me, holding up a lego. "Freedom or this," he said, tossing it down to me.

The fucking bastard! I catch the lego. It's the one from my pocket! The damn thief! When I look back up, though, he's gone. The staircase starts moving on me, though, the upper half twisting around to point in a different direction. Fucking castle. I continue down running the lego between my fingers. Maybe being outside will help. I know which is more important, but that doesn't stop me from wanting what I gave up.

((Follow Jing up or Mello down, just be sure I know which you want ;) ))

degeneratewolfe.livejournal.com

Valentine waited until what he'd judged was the last straggler to make their way in and shut the door. The dungeon classroom was, for the moment, brightly lit and students were paired up in front of cauldrons. There were a number of beanbags shoved off against one wall. "Why, hello," he said, waiting for whatever chatter was in the air to die down. "And welcome to today's ( potion class. )

hopalongmcgurk.livejournal.com

((Thanks to

woocha for doing the math so I didn't have to, because math is haaaard!))

I finally grab the betting pool box and, prefect results in hand, I spend some time calculating the winners. Afterwords, I struggle to the owlery and send out owls.

( Owl to Nathan Explosion )

( Owl to Rat )

( Owl to Ofdensen )

( Owl to Matt )

( Owl to Turlough )

( Owl to Hagrid )

( Owl to Methos )

( Owl to Basher )

My cut, I've determined, comes to 481 galleons, 119 sickles, 2 knuts, and two apples.

Also, while I'm sending out owls, I dash off another one.

( Owl to Skwisgaar )

Current Mood: pleased

cockneysplosive.livejournal.com

Well. He did manage most everything.

Basher surveyed his room to make sure he got everything.

22 AK-47s (he had tried to get two more but that deal fell through)

An M47 Dragon (it had been the best he could do, rocket launcher wise)

Both crates of the M67s, two crates of the MK3A2s, and six individual incendiary grenades.

And of course, ammo for the above.

All in all, Bash was satisfied with his haul and was sure the Baron would be as well. So with the aid of the shrinking spell, Basher put them in a secure case and went to his office, knocking.

i-am-harkonnen.livejournal.com

The Baron Vladimir Harkonnen needed to arrange a couple of meeting. It was of course too much effort to actually go to the Owlery to send owls, so he sent off a few of the house-elves with sealed notes, and went back to watching recordings of American Idol. The study of Muggle Culture really was a fascinating one.
_______________________________

To Basher Tarr,

Please do drop by the Muggle Studies department sometime in the next couple afternoons. I've got an acquisition job for somebody, and I expect that you might be interested in it. Naturally, if you are interested, there'll be a generous finder's fee attached.

-Baron Vladimir Harkonnen

_______________________________

My dear Jasper,

You really should drop by this evening, as it's always such a pleasure. I'm not expecting any other visitors, so, you won't have to be concerned about any little incidents. I'll be looking forward to seeing you later.

-Vladimir

((Sorry about the lack of fancy cuts. Due to my LJ-noobiness, I figure I'd just mess up fancy cuts.))

cockneysplosive.livejournal.com

It had been early in the morning-2 or 3ish-when a man snuck into the Great Hall holding a broom and wearing an invisibility cloak he 'borrowed' from someplace. Using them both, he flew up to the rafters of the Great Hall. There he pulled something out of his pocket and secured it to the rafter, making it invisible in the process. He did this two more times, at different points of the Great Hall.

Having done that, Basher went back to bed.

Fast forward to lunchtime. Basher went there to get some lunch, and see if there were enough people in the room. Luckily, there were.

Opting to go straight into the kitchen, he ducked into a closet in there which had a wall adjacent to the Great Hall. Pulling out and putting on a gas mask, he pushed the trigger on the bombs.

There was no explosion, hell, there wasn't even a visible difference, unless you saw through magic goggles or something. But if you could, you'd be able to see aphrodisiac seep out from the bombs and over the Great Hall.

All right, hat. You wanted a sex bomb, you got one, Basher thought from his closet.

ancient-adam.livejournal.com

Freshly showered and feeling much better in non-buttery clothing, Methos swung on his trenchcoat and decided to begin re-exploring Hogwarts. Thanks to directions from a few helpful house elves, he managed to locate his old room and was relieved to find his journals safely stacked away on a shelf among the other books and empty beer bottles. Dragging a finger across the dusty desk, he frowned. "Guess I've been gone for awhile then."

Methos closed the door behind him, hoping he'll at least remember his way back. His challenge in the Forbidden Forest with Akabane had left him in strangely good spirits. He still couldn't remember much about the school itself aside from a random flash or two, so perhaps a long stroll around the grounds would serve to jog his memory.

Current Mood: chipper

ubergazebo.livejournal.com

Slow life of wood. Sap seeping through woodgrain and through cracks in paint. News from tree to tree in wind speaking of brothers slain. Gazebo, I, will stretch and move. Gazebo probes earth to taste what path leads to the brothers' resting ground. Another flavor there too, like truffles. Gazebo knows that is a love flavor.

Magic helps gazebo, me, to move. Proudly bedecked in flowers. Handsome and angry. That is me. Hear the voice magic gave me to speak without wind. I demand audience.

( Allow me to elucidate. )

"I have read the [info]hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG.

ubergazebo
I have read the [info]hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them.

ubergazebo
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch.

ubergazebo
One day, marmalade will rule the world.

ubergazebo"

nerdsexgoddess.livejournal.com

Very early on Friday morning, a team of house elves had begun construction of a large and gaudy pavilion, located just outside the window of the groundskeeper's hut. There was a lot of noise going on during this construction, which probably woke anyone currently sleeping in said gamekeeper hut.

Once the pavilion had been constructed, Amaranth swooped in to do some decorating. Soon, several picnic tables, all covered with plastic tablecloths, had been put into place. One table was designated for any food, and another would hold any gifts people would bring to the Turlough-Hagrid wedding reception.

The pavillion was large enough to give people room to move around--even to dance, if they should so choose. A karaoke machine had been set up in one corner, powered by magic. The food table contained a massive, three-layer wedding cake featuring likenesses of Turlough and Hagrid made out of chocolate, for those who had always hoped for an opportunity to bite off either of the grooms' heads, literally. One of the guests, Miranda binewski, had also brought scones, and there were, of course, other perennial wedding reception foods, such as homemade mints, a bowl of macadamia nuts, and both a relish and meat tray. Champagne had been provided for anyone who wished to imbibe. For the tetotalers, the house elves had made several pitchers of Crystal Lite. As with most large events at Hogwarts where food was offered, most of it was enchanted, though Amaranth had not realized this when she commissioned the food order from the house elves.

Amaranth looked around the gaily decorated pavillion and clapped her hands happily. True, Turlough and Hagrid hadn't wanted this marriage, but she was happy to help them celebrate in the best way she knew how.

((The scones were approved by Miranda mun in chat. As with all chocolate plots, the effects of the enchantments will vary according to what you want them to do, so have fun and be cracky. This RP is open to everyone, even if you don't know the characters in question, so feel free to have your character drop in without worrying about a pretext for them to do so.))

Current Mood: chipper
Current Music: The Village People - YMCA

g-wormtongue.livejournal.com

A shabby little crow-like man dabbed at his bloody lip with a handkerchief. He made his way through the tower, silent except for the rustling of silk on silk. Saruman was deep in his workings and that left Gríma to contemplate his own failure.

Just when he had finally succeeded in banishing Éomer. (By the Válar, he loved banishing!) He had his own bodyguard, Unfearth. And then, Láthspell. What part of 'forbid his staff' did Háma not understand!?
He swore quietly.
Saruman had been waiting for him at the steps of Orthanc. "The faithful servant returns and bleeds in sympathy, as he should." Those eyes were like fathomless wells. Despite the gentleness of the wizard's voice, Gríma shuddered; to be trapped in the tower with those eyes, to have Saruman's full attention was not something anyone would wish. He felt his eloquence, his very sanity was beginning to ebb away.

Saruman would yet rule Middle Earth, he had no doubt. Gríma's fear was for his own future.

He wandered until he came to a room unlike any other in the tower. It had a low wooden desk rather than stone pedestals almost too high for him to see over. He read the parchment. Was it some sort of test?

( Just questions, my lord. )

"I offer my service. I offer my tongue and everything I have; my experience as counselor through the years." A pitiful offering to a wizard.

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

((*Excerpt from the book, (see question 4): "First, make ye right sure there is a dead body in the room, preferably that of her relative you killed yourself. In a pinch, you can use a relation whose death you caused indirectly, but mark you are seated right next to it when you make the puppy-dog eyes at her. Then you may be confident of winning the lady's heart.))

((Taken from movie canon. Yayy, Brad Dourif. But I like to imagine a book-ending would have happened, had Gríma stayed. Insanity, accusations of hobbit-eating and all.
This application is cleared with Legolas' mun. I'm new to writing Tolkien canon, and Gríma's a lot more eloquent than I am, so feel free to point out errors.
Please do not expose Happy Fun Gríma to the color white. He keeps a Secret Diary.))

miranda-bnewski.livejournal.com

Characters: If you want to vent to your muns, or complain about the people who share your headspace, this is the place. It may not help things, but maybe you'll feel better.
Characters may comment and talk with each other.

i-am-harkonnen.livejournal.com

The Baron Vladimir Harkonnen enjoyed his 'walk' (he was floating, so it was a somewhat inaccurate term) to the Muggle Studies department with Octavian as his eloquent and informative escort. He was intrigued to hear of the apparent technological focus of the place, and even more intrigued to actually see it when they arrived.

Vladimir took in the surroundings with interest- there were a number of screens that caught his notice, possibly the televisions? And apparently, there was indeed a kitchen. Which was a very useful thing to have around, even if he wouldn't use it himself. Proximity was what mattered, and, he anticipated spending a good amount of time here.

Octavian explained what he was familiar with, and Vladimir noticed that despite the technological devices and unusual culinary accoutrements, it did have standard classroom trappings like shelves with books, and things that resembled books. He'd have to look into those later, as, when Octavian turned on one of the televisions, which appeared to be stuck on CNN, Vladimir was immediately fascinated. There were advanced technologies in his era, but for some reason, they didn't have television, and amused themselves with almost medieval forms of entertainment. So this was a remarkable discovery.

It wasn't just the oddly-dressed announcers explaining the current events of the day that were fascinating and informative, there were advertisements too! How ingenious! The Baron was baffled as to why the Imperium did not have this technology- the ability to stream information at people in such an easy to ingest format, regulated of course, along with telling them what they wanted as consumers, would have been a remarkable asset. It did not take long for the Baron to tell the house elves to bring him dinner and a couch. He was curious about the things that Octavian didn't know how to operate, but, figured that someone at Hogwarts was bound to know, or he'd figure it out by experimentation later. But for now, he was sitting on the couch and staring at the television, entranced.

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. ____________"

fiercefluffy.livejournal.com

Octavian had decided to attempt a better understanding of Judeo-Christian theology, idiocy though he knew it to be. His conversation with Michael had convinced him he ought to know his enemy.

He had also decided this study would best be done outside the library, away from the archangel's eye.

This would explain why an eighteen-year-old boy -- unremarkable in dress; he wore the Hogwarts uniform, rather than the toga praetexta, more often than not these days -- would be sitting on the lawn, on what appeared to be a picnic blanket, drinking (diluted) wine and reading the Bible.

He'd opted for the Vulgate Bible, this being the easiest for him linguistically. Beside him lay a concordance and some random volumes of tangential interest: Tertullian; Augustine; a secondary study of Aquinas that he'd left wholly untouched to this point. And FitzGerald's English translation of the Rubaiyat, because Octavian liked poetry far more than any of this Christ rubbish, and he deserved some recreation.

A Book of Verses underneath the Bough,
A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread -- and Thou ...

Just a quiet afternoon for Octavian, his Bible, and whoever might show up to cadge some wine or some bread off him.

nerdsexgoddess.livejournal.com

The following anonymous post appeared on the compy network.

For the purposes of curiosity...

If you want to play, let me know in a reply to this thread, and I will pick three people currently in attendance at Hogwarts.

Which would you have sex with?
Which would you marry?
Which would you kill, provided that there weren't a no-kill spell?

If anyone else wants to assign choices as well, that would be grand!

((Edited to fix the rules. The mun has never actually played this game herself.))

Current Mood: curious

derkhan.livejournal.com

She came to consciousness in a profoundly unfamiliar room. Stone walls, bare stone floor, rich tapestries on the walls.

In her capacity as art critic for the Beacon, a reputable and legitimate paper of record, Derkhan Blueday would have estimated this setting -- tapestries and all -- to bespeak a desperate hunger for respectability on the proprietors' part. It was a look of deliberate antiquation, the kind of thing favored by money so new it practically bled ink.

However, in her capacity as acting editor of Runagate Rampant, a publication less respectable (indeed, illegal), Derkhan was alive to other possibilities. Evaluating her new surroundings in that light, she speculated that the decor might have been calculated to intimidate detainees, to put them in mind of dungeons and torture chambers.

Surely this was not the Spike? The room seemed far too large. A crawling in the pit of Derkhan's stomach insisted that if this wasn't the Spike, then it was someplace similar in purpose, and she was in deep trouble. She was in deep trouble regardless. So much for her painstaking disguise. Poor compared to what she'd routinely have put on just for the ride from Kelltree to Dog Fenn, but she and her friend spent so much effort on this one, it hurt worse somehow to know it'd failed -- the hair dye, the false scar, the other carefully improvised attempts, best they could manage under the circumstances ...

Derkhan took a series of deep breaths. Composed herself as best she could. Waited for something to happen. It would be a questioning, no doubt, and who knew how much she would actually say? She knew what tactics would be brought to bear, to make her talk.

( But when the questions came, they were far from what Derkhan expected. )

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

cockneysplosive.livejournal.com

Okay. So. A job went wrong again.

He supposed that's what he got for working with amateurs.

The point was, Basher Tarr needed someplace to hide, and he heard from a mate about a safe haven in Scotland, that even if a cop managed to get in, he couldn't arrest a bloke.

Turns out Basher missed the safe haven completely and ended up in Hogwarts, but don't tell him that.

Anyway, Basher came into the sorting room, sitting down in the chair, pulling out his reading glasses and looking over the application.

( No one told me this was a magic school. )

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

[[OOC: Hey, out of curiosity, what would happen if we hit the max on tags? Delete the ones we no longer use?]]

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Entries tagged with basher tarr

Landings ((Open RP, Mello, Jing))

Potions class

Lots and lots of owls - Betting Pool Results!

[Closed RP, Basher, Harkonnen] Supply and Demand

Notes from the Baron (Closed RPs: Vlad Harkonnen/Basher Tarr & Vlad Harkonnen/Jasper Hale

[Open RP] Sex Bomb!

The Old Guy goes for a walk (open rp!)

A handsome gazebo. (OC squibbait application)

Open RP - The Turlough-Hagrid wedding shower and chocolate plotstravaganza!

Application: Grima Wormtongue, LOTR

OOC Post: Vent to the Muns

Open RP - The Muggle Studies Department

Application for Camerlengo Patrick McKenna: Angels and Demons (film)

open RP

Compy Post: FMK Meme

application for Derkhan Blueday (Perdido Street Station)

[Application] Basher Tarr, Ocean's Trilogy

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March 2022

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