[identity profile] chief-michael.livejournal.com

Just five more minutes. He had five more minutes before his shift was over and he’d be able to retreat to his quarters with a hot pizza and 4 or 5 hours of uninterrupted sleep. Things were finally going his way.. which had him worried. Because when things went his way, it meant that something was gonna go wrong, something always went horribly, catastrophically wrong. It was just the way the universe ran. Something going right? Time to screw with Garibaldi.

He stepped through the doors, intent on making one last sweep through Brown Sector before calling it a night. His boot caught on a rock and sent him sprawling.

See? Things were already going awry. And what the hell was a rock doing on a space station?

ExpandThis is gonna get weird, isn't it? )

[identity profile] trader-sayar.livejournal.com
((If you don't know the Tradewinds games, they're frightfully addictive. I enjoyed playing Rihana so much that I thought I'd app her here. She's from Tradewinds: Legends by Sandlot Games.))

A ship is sailing toward Hogwarts. Not on the lake--on the air. It's a stately, beautiful ship with a prow like a dragon's head. It comes to a rest beside the tallest tower, where a few House Elves make it fast, and a ramp descends from the ship to the window of the Sorting Room. A woman dressed in the finest silks appears and descends into the room. This is Rihana Sayar.

She's very attractive and young, appearing to be only in her early twenties. In spite of her expensive clothing and youth, though, there's deep sadness in her eyes, and from the roughness of her hands, one might guess she has worked for her wealth. She carries about her the scent of sea air, spices, and gunpowder.

Rihana looks around as she enters the Sorting Room, not appearing to be thrown in any way by the strangeness. Well, not until she looks at the application. One might guess she was expecting something quite different indeed.

ExpandWhat does this have to do with the price of salt in Sabrallaj? )

"I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. ____RS________
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. ____RS_______.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. _____RS______.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. _____RS________"
[identity profile] centauri-londo.livejournal.com

((Londo has spoken to Delenn's mun and gotten the OK))

He stepped through the doorway and tugged at his coat, straightening the heavily embroidered sleeves. Ambassador Londo Mollari of the Great Centauri Republic surveyed his new surroundings. The walls and floor were wrought stone, but it did not have the same light and airy feel one would find in Centauri architecture. Was he back on Narn?

“Great Maker, I hope not,” he muttered to himself. “I could use a drink. Vir!” he bellowed.

Londo took a step forward and was startled to see a quill appear in front of him, just hovering over a piece of parchment.

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

ExpandRead on! )


 

[identity profile] calligraphywolf.livejournal.com
((Depending on how perceptive your character is, they'll see Amaterasu as either a regular white wolf roughly the size of a small pony, or see her god form, a white wolf with the strange red markings + whorls within her fur + the Divine Instrument (the shield looking thing with flames) she wears on her back. Characters might also recognize her as the Shinto sun goddess. "The Great Mother Okami Amaterasu."

Issun is a separate character, but since Amaterasu can't communicate with people on her own, he does the talking for her. It'd be really difficult to app Amaterasu without him, since they're a package deal. Modly types, let me know if it's not okay.))


Amaterasu had charged into the Devil Gate with the intention of battling more of the corrupting demons that plagued the earth. What she definitely hadn't been prepared for was the sudden drop of a few dozen feet, and a stone floor rising up to meet her.

She hit the ground hard and didn't immediately rise. After a few moments, she slowly lifted her head and shook it as though it might help her to orient herself. Several feet away, a tiny, glowing green sprite sat up and rubbed his head.

"Nice going, ya big furball!" the sprite, Issun, grumbled at the wolf. She offered a suitably apologetic-sounding whine as she stood up and made her way over to retrieve her Poncle friend, who reclaimed his perch atop her snout. Wherever Amaterasu stepped, grass and flowers began to sprout from right out of the stone.

"What is this place, anyway?" Issun wondered aloud, looking around the room. "Hey Ammy, what's that over on the table? Looks like it wants our attention."

ExpandLeap before you think! )

"I have read the [livejournal.com profile] hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. A/I
I have read the [livejournal.com profile] hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. A/I
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. A/I
One day, marmalade will rule the world. A/I"
[identity profile] blond-bondshell.livejournal.com
This was not a vacation. There was no down time at Hogwarts.

If it had been a real vacation, James Bond would have left a trail of warm beds and broken hearts through whatever exotic location he'd chosen, and when the time was up he'd be whisked off to London for another assignment.

So he did what he did when there was no time to relax. He practiced.

The man wasn't superhuman, but he was focused. He'd heard the rumors behind his back, that it simply wasn't possible to be that good. And while they'd been talking, he'd been at the gym, pushing himself to run harder or swim faster than anyone else. He'd spent the hours at the shooting range, taking the time to get the feel for every gun available. There were training manuals that he'd read and remembered for later.

Now he was turning that focus to spell work. He'd found a classroom outside of Gryffindor and used it. Bond stayed with one simple spell, and practiced it until the words came without hesitation, and the wand movement was muscle memory. The endless repetitions were never just routine. He concentrated intently on each new attempt, mentally making adjustments each time. Without a strong foundation of even the simplest spells, it would be foolish haste to move on to the more complicated spells he had in mind.

"Wingardium Leviosa." Swish, flick. "Wingardium Leviosa." Swish, flick. The pencil made a circle in the air then returned to the desk.
[identity profile] blond-bondshell.livejournal.com
James Bond entered the Sorting Room as if he had always meant to be there. It was possible that he had. MI6 had interest in a wide variety of subjects, and with the Ministry of Magic so heavily involved in Muggle politics, who was to say that the Muggles weren't keeping tabs of their own?

He was dressed as if he had just come from a decadent gala. The tuxedo was crisp and tailored, and his vodka martini was fresh. Bond set the drink down on the table and examined the application. He had been expecting some questioning when he arrived. However, he had been expecting questions that made sense.

ExpandNot shaken, and not stirred. He was as cold and sharp as a diamond. )

"I have read the [info]hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. __James Bond__________
I have read the [info]hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. _James Bond__________.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. _James Bond______.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. _James Bond____________"
[identity profile] hobbitwithaplan.livejournal.com
The door of the Sorting Room opens, and what looks like a small, curly-headed child walks in, holding a pipe. Only, rather than a small child, the figure is instead rather a tall hobbit; and in taking in the proportions of the room he finds himself in, he looks perhaps understandably confused.

Still, he is well-versed in travel, and more used to Mannish structures than most hobbits would be. It only takes a few moments for him to find the application parchment, which he fills out with growing curiosity - occasionally looking up, still alert for his errant cousin or some other inhabitant of his sprawling, underground mansion.

ExpandPippin...? )

((OOC: I'm taking Merry from book-canon, just after the Scouring of the Shire. So he does have a silly, irresponsible side, it's just... not as blatant as movieverse!Merry's.))
[identity profile] callmewednesday.livejournal.com
Mr. Wednesday knows full well that the kind of magic he does is a magic that can't be taught. There will be no field trip to Mimir's Well at the base of Yggdrasill. For one thing, few students are likely to sign a waiver stating they forfeit an eye or a limb or some other body part for the sake of wisdom. Nor does Wednesday believe that the Wizarding Examinations Authority would approve the task of hanging on the World Tree for nine days and nine nights, even if the students could survive it (the no-kill rule being no help with the World Tree located off Hogwarts grounds, naturally).

The kind of magic Wednesday does is a magic he alone can use to its fullest extent.

Nonetheless, he can share with them some basic facts. He can show them the letter-forms, teach them to carve and to color the letters known in his own language as secret. He can teach them the names of the letters.

It'll be a little like kindergarten.

Expand~Now I know my F-U-THs! Tell me what you think of me!~ )

There is a stack of parchment and a pile of spare quills as well as some pots of ink on the table at the head of the classroom. It seems Wednesday felt his students might not remember to bring their own.

"You may begin your communal efforts." Wednesday almost smirks when he says it. The idea of groupwork amuses him.


(( OOC: First off, the link to the PBS site contains a script that, if you plug in a name, will generate that name in runes. Easy. Just remember to disable NoScript if you have that Firefox plug-in, or it won't work. ;) Second, those of you with characters who'd ICly read Wednesday's optional article on runic magic may consider the character to have read it without having OOCly done so. Third, if you have any questions OOCly, feel free to ping me; if you have questions ICly, please note in the subject line of your comment that you'd like Wednesday to answer. Otherwise I'll assume you're playing amongst yourselves.

The characters who signed up for Runes are listed here, but characters who didn't sign up are still welcome to attend.))
[identity profile] mari-el-la.livejournal.com
Mariella knows about Hogwarts. She won't say anything to anyone to indicate this. Don't worry :)

The blonde-ringletted girl does not look as though she should be wearing all black. She looks rather...dare I say...preppy.

Except Mariella got some pritt stick and she glued her lips together; she doesn't talk. She's an elective mute. (She heard someone say once 'that means she could talk if she likes but she doesn't want to.' Mariella likes this assessment.) And she's had enough of her mother's begging to try and fit in.

So Hogwarts would probably welcome her. As she walks into the Sorting room, she's beaming. Oh yes, this is the Hogwarts she read about in books and fanfics. Too bad she won't feel like telling anybody.

ExpandMariella, Mariella, my pretty, baby girl, unglue your lips from being together and wear some pink and pearls )
[identity profile] barneystinson.livejournal.com
Anyone glancing up at the sky would perhaps be alarmed at the flock of Doves descending upon the castle, each one with a perfectly tied blood red bow around it's neck. Those with apt vision would be alarmed at the disfigurement of the doves, and how they from one side looked like owls.

It must be said, Barney Stinson was smooth. He knew that each and every woman; straight, single, gay, disfigured, multi genital, turns into a soppy romantic when it comes to valentines day. Sure, the transfiguration of the owls might have been a *little* off, but the effort was there none the less.

The owls/doves/dowves were heading to each and every female (excluding minors), with the following,

ExpandRead more... )

Oh, he was so going to get laid.
[identity profile] computerwizkid.livejournal.com
With a small bang of displaced air, a twelve-year-old girl appeared, carrying what might have been a laptop computer, if laptops had eyestalks and jointed legs. She looked around, an increasingly annoyed expression on her face, and groaned.

“Definitely not the Crossings,” Dairine sighed, and opened the cover of the computer. “Spot? Could you show me the transit routine? Something went wrong.” Obediently, the computer displayed a complex diagram, and the girl sat down with the laptop in her lap to examine it. “Nah, looks alright. Any idea where we are?” Again, the requested data displayed itself. The girl frowned.

Scotland? How in heck had she ended up in Scotland? She shouldn’t have been anywhere near Earth! She’d never messed up a transit like this, especially not with Spot’s help. Her dad was going to kill her, followed by Nita, and possibly Tom and Carl, if she didn’t die of embarrassment, first. Sker’ret, who she was supposed to be meeting, would probably die laughing.

Closing the lid of the computer, she looked around again, and picked up an application, examining it. With a shrug, she pulled a ballpoint pen out of her pocket and began to fill it out.

ExpandWhere the heck am I? )

"I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. D C
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. D C
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. D C
One day, marmalade will rule the world. D C "
[identity profile] signedwithahat.livejournal.com
The window stood invitingly open, so it was really no one's fault but the owner's when a shiny metal hook sailed over the edge and lodged there. The attached length of rope shuddered lightly, tensed as someone pulled against it from the other side. After a moment, a felt trilby eased over the windowsill followed quickly by a blank grey mask. Judging it to be safe, the would-be thief climbed nimbly through.

By the time he realized he wasn't in the empty drawing room of a rich old widow, his point of entrance had vanished. There was a moment of panic, but the lack of anything resembling the inside of the DeFoe Manor squashed it back down. He would figure out what was going on, and in the meantime, he would stay calm.

And fill out this application. Maybe it would draw out whoever was responsible.

ExpandAnother perfect entrance ruined by uncooperative windows. )

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

((OOC: My Trilby is taken from shortly after 5 Days a Stranger and completely disregards the rest of his canon. Awesome games, don't get me wrong, but that was not Trilby don't lie to me. *pouts* Also, his signature there is supposed to be a hat.))
[identity profile] entilzha-delenn.livejournal.com
It took Delenn some time after her Sorting, first to find Gryffindor, then to find writing supplies, and then to find the Owlery and attach a message to a bird.
ExpandUnwarded, since she hasn't even got a wand yet )
[identity profile] ugly-old-hat.livejournal.com
The Sorting Hat had a new lease on life, thanks to the return of its abducted bride. In Virginia's absence, the Hat had fretted alone in the Hat House, leaving only grudgingly for the Sortings it must perform, and using the rest of its time for contemplation so emo as to be worthy of the most bespandexed Gryffindor. Had it a navel, it would have contemplated that.

After playing on repeat 20 times a compilation of wizarding musicians' covers of Morrissey's greatest hits, the Hat reached a conclusion.

It was meant to be alone. Everyone, everywhere, was meant to be alone. Marriage was a charade for little minds.

Of course the mass marriages had produced not a single duck waffle. How could such a tender and precious thing as a duck waffle be produced from the sterile and meaningless institution of marriage? The farce must end. Now.

The Hat had been waiting until Virginia came back safely to make any changes in school routine. Now that she was back, the time had come.

Movers came to take back all the tents and hot tubs -- they'd only been rentals. The rec center and boat ride remained, but El Mundo del Sombrero was no more. Its tenants were summarily evicted, herded back to their dorm room by the house elf phalanxes that had herded them to the village in the first place. It happened like this:

Three a.m. Knocks and scuffles and loud thumps audible from outside every tent, as the earth released the hot tubs under power of levitation spells. Lots of elves in strange uniforms directed the hot tubs elsewhere, back to the warehouse-of-holding where Rent-A-Village stored its goods. More elves stormed into the tents without warning and roused the sleepy residents, presenting them with the following eviction notice:


Congratulations! Your marriage is null and void! Consider yourself evicted. Your belongings are being moved to your former dorm rooms by house-elves and you are hereby commanded to report to the castle! Isn't that great?

There will be a welcome-back party tonight in the Great Hall! Be there!


Now things could get back to normal, with plenty of healthy debauchery and lack of attachment! A Welcome Back party was in order, for Virginia and for all the students!

Valentine took the return of his belongings (mostly consisting of his stolen, transfigured, and jury-rigged drug lab equipment) back to their proper places in Slytherin to be a sign that a celebration was coming. And what was a celebration without treats? He had no doubt that people were going to be going wild over the dissolution of their marriages, from the amount of complaining that he had overheard in his stay at El Mundo del Sombrero. He had to admit that he was hardly free from guilt in that regard.

And so, in a stunning display of philanthropy, he decided to be generous. One trip to the Hufflepuff food library and an hour and a half of charms, hexes, and injecting questionable substances into food later, he had a veritable feast prepared and ready to be delivered with an anonymous note of congratulations for the Hat. Hot Pockets of all flavors (including cactus-leaves, Bertie Botts' Every-Flavored Beans, and other such unusual fillings), punch with something vaguely fruit-like dissolving in it, jelly donuts... and all guaranteed to give the unwitting reveler who tried them a little surprise.

Excited, the Hat knew that this congratulatory note from a secret admirer confirmed the Hat's own glorious and benevolent wisdom. Everyone must surely appreciate everything the Hat did for them. The note was like a straw poll, showing the Hat's approval ratings were way up, not that approval mattered at all since the Hat didn't give a shit whether anyone was happy.

Stoned off of his ass and hallucinating colors that didn't exist, Valentine settled back to watch the mayhem. Life was grand.

((It's up to the player to chose whether they've gotten something drugged or charmed, and what result is visited upon them, just like a regular chocolate plot.))
[identity profile] entilzha-delenn.livejournal.com
((I am taking Delenn from between the end of s4e06, "Into the Fire," and s4e07, "Epiphanies" - that is, directly after the end of the Shadow War and in the celebratory pause before the beginning of the Babylon/Earth war and the Minbari civil war.))
The door to the transport tube slid open, and Ambassador Delenn stepped out to find herself in a large room like nothing she had seen aboard the space station.

"John?" she called. "Lennier?"

She walked around, long robes swishing around her with each step, and candlelight glinted off her long brown hair. She ran a hand over the stone walls; no comm interface. No, this was definitely not Babylon 5.

Delenn stepped up to the table in the center of the room and picked up the top sheet from a stack of papers set upon it. Immediately a quill sprang into position atop the next sheet.

"In Valen's name!" she exclaimed, and her eyes widened in surprise and then delight as the quill took down her words.
ExpandSometimes the universe requires a change of perspective. )
"I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. __delenn__.
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. __delenn__.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. __delenn__.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. _stranger things have happened__."

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