hh_mirror | Entries tagged with bialar crais

beantheory.livejournal.com

A tiny boy appears in the Sorting Room. He appears to be about five years old, and small for that age, with thin hair and dark eyes. In reality, he is seven. The lingering effects of early deprivation haven't been wiped out, despite looking lean and strong. And he's careworn, unusually so for a child so young.

The boy takes a long moment to look around the room, quick eyes drinking in everything: the layout of the room, the exits (door, wide enough for him to go through even with five adults blocking the way; four windows, highly-set but not impossible to reach; a chimney-place), the furniture. There's no one about so he pads to the fireplace first, examining its usefulness as an escape route. It's difficult to be certain by sight alone. He's tempted to climb up and find out - it's possible that this connects to a network of some kind - but the inside of the flue is coated with soot. He has no way of knowing how common soot-covered (or naked, if he chose to save his clothes the abuse) children are in this place. It can wait.

The gravity pressing against him is noticeable. There's no underlying, subliminal sense of motion.

Bean is back on Earth.

( The enemy's gate is down... )

garland-briggs.livejournal.com

( The Major Enters )

monde-finis.livejournal.com

In the summer of 1999, very little surprised Claire Tourneur. She simply wouldn't let shock take away valuable time that could be spent partying away the fact that her life was going to end. Everyone's lives, actually. The nuclear satellite hung precariously over the earth, losing a battle with gravity that would end life on the planet when it finally succumbed. That was the theory, at least. Nobody was quite sure what would happen, but there was no point in taking chances. Faced with her own mortality, Claire had decided that if she couldn't beat the satellite to the punch, she was going to live the rest of her life in an unending fog.

The party she had just left was a one in a long string of interchangeable gatherings. She had woken up on a couch she couldn't remember falling asleep on. She'd picked up a champagne flute that certainly wasn't hers, grabbed shoes that possibly could be hers, and had stepped outside to leave in her stolen car. That was when the world had ended.

How else could she be in a cold castle, and not out in the drive? She was frozen, shocked into feeling her first strong emotion in months: fear. The fear didn't last long, though. The pills she had consumed the night before formed a protective chemical barrier against those bothersome feelings, and her pharmaceutical defenders were quick to come to her aide. So that was the end, she thought. I suppose that a warning would have been too much to ask for. French was her native tongue, but she was fluent in English and German, if the situation called for it.

If this was the end of the world, though, she had expected a bit more fanfare in the next life, or at least a bit more crowding. As it was, she was the only person in the room. There was one other object of note: a small wooden table with a sheath of papers and a pen. Or not a pen, really. Claire appreciated that. She would not enjoyed the afterlife very much if the celestial powers did not have a sense of flair. The paper had writing in English, so she answered in turn.

( I took the money/I spiked your drink/You miss too much these days if you stop to think )

caprica-6.livejournal.com

A tall, statuesque woman, so blonde her hair looked to be nearly white and dressed in elegant looking black pants and an equally flattering black halter top, appeared in the Sorting Room. She didn't look confused or disoriented, and she moved with grace and purpose to the table holding the application. She picked up the application and skimmed over it, pausing every now and then to raise an eyebrow or smile faintly. With an amused glance at the quill pen, she began to write her answers.

( Genocide, murder, vengeance... They're all sins in the eyes of God. That's what you and I know. That's what they don't want to hear. )

"I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. C6
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. C6
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. C6
One day, marmalade will rule the world. C6"

((Caprica Six's head!Gaius is not perceivable to anyone else. Not even other versions of her have shown any awareness that he is there. So while it's obvious that occasionally she's talking to or listening to someone who's not there, it's basically as if she's talking to a made-up invisible friend--no other presence would be dectected. As far as I know, anyway. Additionally, Head!Gaius occasionally knows things that he should have no way of knowing about people they've never met, and tells Caprica little hints to move in the direction he/she/they want to take. He doesn't do it often and I will, of course, ask the mun before having him butt into a conversation like that.))

Current Mood: calm
Current Music: "Counting Bodies Like Sheep (To the Rhythm of the War Drums,)" A Perfect Circle

twoswordpsycho.livejournal.com

Application for Drizzt Do’Urden (Forgotten Realms)

((Spoilers for the Legend of Drizzt Series including The Orc King))

Change

It is what happens with the passage of time, whether we mere mortals like it or not.
It is the wave against the rock, the falling of the shore into the ocean.
The challenge is to see this as change and not pure destruction.

It is the circumstance I have been put in, though some changes were easier
to fathom than others. Leaving House Do’Urden and finding the Surface was
evolution that saved my life, made me who I am. Admitting my feelings for
Catti-brie and marrying her was another large step in the right direction,
change I feared but accepted.

The tide has turned, I fear, in a direction more towards erosion than growth.
The wonderful marriage I thought I had was further proven a friendly a
rrangement. The peaceful life patrolling around Mithral Hall has become a
bit harder as of late.

At one point in history, such change would have torn through my heart.
Now, however I see it as a gateway to new opportunities, new adventures,
new places I never thought I would travel, and skills I never thought I
would want to learn.

Maybe change can indeed be good though it wears an ugly
face at times.

-Drizzt Do’Urden

A black-skinned elf the size of a short, slender human walks into the
sorting room. His long, thick white hair falls over the white, direwolf fur
stoll of his green cloak. He is wearing a nice gray shirt over plain
leather leggings and high black boots. A sword is strapped to each
hip.

He walks in and looks at the application, taking a quill and
pondering.

( How to bemuse a drow ranger )

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

brainy5.livejournal.com

"...This is not my lab." Brainiac 5 looked around the room, which was... nothing at all like his lab, actually. His lab was definitely not a large stone room, and not even remotely as... primitive? Yes, primitive seemed like the right word. ~~Not that there was anything wrong with primitive, it was just an accurate descriptor.~~

On discovering the table with the applications, he read through it and frowned. "Application to a magic school. Right." He'd admitting during the Zyx incident that there was in fact such a thing as magic, but that didn't mean he wanted to go to school to learn it! Magic made no sense! On the other hand, he was here, and there didn't seem to be a ready way out. Applying to the school and learning for a while would buy some time, right...?

( This is a very strange application )

"I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. _____B5_______

I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. _____B5______.

I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. ______B5_____.

One day, marmalade (?!?!?!) will rule the world. _____B5________"

zombag.livejournal.com

"Urgh...."

Zalbag groaned as he slowly came to, picking himself up from the cold stone floor of the sorting room. He fixed himself, shifting from a crumpled heap to sitting up, and blinked as he took in the new surroundings.

"Where in the world am I?" he asked, brushing himself off and standing up. He then noticed a small piece of parchment lying on a nearby desk, with a small quill set beside it to indicate that someone had been writing on it recently. He picked up the piece of paper, and noted, with some amusement and much bemusement, that it was an application of sorts.

"Perhaps this'll shed some light on the situation?" he wondered. He sat down and went to work filling out the sheet.

( Yet, sadly, it didn't. )

Current Mood: blah

bantersucks.livejournal.com

((Contacted the four active DC-muns about this to get permission. Jaime is being pulled from right after Blue Beetle #14. NOTE: Jaime's armor has a mind of its own. Anyone with special abilities, PLEASE check out this tl;dr post on the scarab and how it might react to you - and let me know what you want it to detect - before posting! ~~SYLAR I'M LOOKING AT YOU.~~))

"AAAAAAAHHHH -"

From out of nowhere, a skinny teenage boy falls face down into the Sorting Room, slamming into the stone floor.

Hard.

"Ow."

Slowly, painfully, Jaime pushes himself up into a kneeling position, rubbing a sore shoulder as he looks around the room, surprised but seemingly not panicking yet. This is a kid who is used to being thrown into insane situations. "Uh, hello?" No answer. He seems to be muttering to himself as he takes stock of his surroundings. "I know. Shut up."

He finally gets to his feet and notices the application, staring at the questions. "Okay, this has got to be a joke." He takes a step back as the quill moves on its own, hovering expectantly over the page. "Whoa! I said shut up. What are you gonna do, blast the magic feather pen?"

( 'Banter. Sucks. So much.' )

I have read the

hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. JR
I have read the

hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. JR.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. JR
One day, marmalade will rule the world. ~~As long as it's not the Reach~~ JR

Current Mood: confused

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!))

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"

damnrap.livejournal.com

((Another Hero? SAY IT AIN'T SO. :P Spoilers for the episode 'Unexpected', just to be safe. And approved by Sylar-mun. ^^)

( ...You're kidding. )

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

Blink. Blink.

" ...D.S.?"

Current Mood: confused

littlmorespacey.livejournal.com

Trillian sighed, they were meant to be on their way to Milliways at the end of universe, but this really didn't look like it. Unless the restaraunt had gone for a castle look. Which she really doubted. She looked around. "Arthur? Zaphod? Ford?" She paused, not really wanting to call the robot since he annoyed her, but since there was no-one else. "Marvin?" She folded her arms and frowned. It was then she spotted the paper with questions. Well it was something to do while she waited.

( Normality restored? )

wh0-kill3d-m3.livejournal.com

Broadband service has now been reinstalled, halle-frickin'-LUiah, I've been jonesing so bad! What do people without internet do at night?

And I once again have access to AIM and the IRC channel. :-)

Laura, Carrie, Ian, Reilly, Max, Brenda, Mr. Darcy, Lady Heather and Crais are all back on duty again, finally.

Current Location: home computer!
Current Music: Blades of Glory OST

wh0-kill3d-m3.livejournal.com

ETA: Looks like Wednesday, please God. I'm in withdrawal here. Especially with apps I really wanna have my guys in!

So, hai guyz! I got a new computer, yay me! One that's like made in this century and hasn't had six previous owners! It works and everything, like a good little miracle of modern science.

What it lacks for the moment is a net connection. I've gotta get Comcast out to the house to reinstall the cable modem and network it to the other computers in the house. No idea when that will be, we haven't even put the service call in.

Meantime I *will* be able to pick up tags, at work and at wifi hotspots with my laptop (which is what I'm doing now). But I won't be able to do any full-immersion RPs for a few days, not that I have any on the slate right now.

The laptop and work computers don't have IRC or AIM installed, so if you need me - or if I'm in danger of missing a tag and you need to n00dge - best way to reach me is email, perletwo@yahoo.com. Or by replying to this post, which comes to the same thing through the miracle of comment notification.

Sooooo, look for a little less presence for Laura Palmer, Sidney Reilly, Carrie White, Ian Malcolm, Brenda Johnson, Max Headroom (who's never around anyway, I gotta do something about him), Lady Heather and Bialar Crais. I'll keep you posted. (Haa! Posted! See what I did there?) (Sorry. I've been crawling around on the floor untangling cables and breathing mutant dust bunnies, I'm a little punchy.)

Current Location: Borders cafe
Current Music: Theme to The Lost Boys

gotmyass.livejournal.com

With a snort and a jolt, a man with fluffy brown hair awoke to find himself laying across a desk in a room that he was pretty sure he'd never seen before. Looking around, he frowned. "Well. I've woken up in stranger places." He poked his finger against the wood of the desk, and, convinced it was real, he pushed himself up.

Once he was sitting up, he realized that he wasn't the only thing on the desk. All around him lay papers and strange looking feathers ("whatever works for you, man"), all in a spectacular disaray, suggesting he had tossed and turned while he had been passed out. Picking up one of the sheets of parchment, he found it had questions, and grinned. "Questionnaire. Awesome." After groping around on the table for a pen and closing his hand around the inky part of a quill, he realized that hey, the feathers weren't supposed to be used the way he had first guessed. Bending to the task at hand, he muttered "At least I hope not. No clue where it's been."

( Contrary to popular belief, hippies can spell. )

"I have read the

hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. ____GB____
I have read the

hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. ____GB_____.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. _____GB____.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. ______GB_____"

legal-wheaties.livejournal.com

Jack was pretty sure he was dreaming. Then again, he hadn't had a dream this weird or vivid in a long time. Most nights, he didn't even remember dreaming at all. But now, he was in a large room, in what seemed to be a castle. It had the feel of a school too. Maybe he was dreaming about being back at St. Ignatius, with the Jesuits, although this felt... different.

He noticed a piece of parchment on a desk in front of him, with a quill, standing poised on its own, apparently ready to dictate. Jack changed his mind immediately upon seeing that -- definitely not St. Ignatius. Glancing over the questions on the sheet, he felt this fact even more strongly.

( Opening statements )

insane-mil-cmdr.livejournal.com

A corona of orange light burst into being in the Sorting Room, dilated and disappeared, leaving behind a man dressed all in black. His head was back, eyes closed, fists clenched at his sides, and a small red robot rolled back and forth on the floor beside him, unnoticed.

At length Bialar Crais lowered his head and opened his eyes, and reached behind him to feel the back of his neck. His face constricted in intense pain and grief for a moment, and then he forced it back into an impassive mask. Looking down at himself, he scowled in disgust and yanked off his black leather gloves, then his leather duster with armored breastplate, and dropped them into a chair beside a writing desk, leaving him in black uniform slacks, boots and a long-sleeved black thermal shirt. After a moment's thought he added a leather cap from a cargo pocket on his thigh to the pile, pulled a pulse pistol from its holster and held it above the pile, then pulled his hand back and reholstered it.

He walked around the room, the little droid rolling in the opposite direction, examining the walls. "MALDIS! Show yourself!" he bellowed. When no answer came, he added, "I will not give you what you want, Maldis! I have no anger left for you to feed upon."

The little robot scaled the leg of the desk and beeped to call the man's attention to a moving quill. The quill had recorded the entire speech, including the electronic beep. Puzzled, he pulled a copy of the application form from the stack and began answering the questions aloud.

( This time, Scorpius, I am not going quietly. )
"I have read the

hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG.__BC__
I have read the

hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them.__BC_.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. __BC__.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. _~~as long as it's not Scorpius~~_BC__"

((Crais' arrival has been approved by Chiana-mun and Aeryn-mun - thanks guys!))

Current Mood: drained
Current Location: Maldis' castle? The commerce planet?
Current Music: echoes of explosions