hh_mirror

coxinsox.livejournal.com

The problem was, Dr. Cox had somehow thought that the new job would actually fix things.

Which he guessed was his first mistake, come to think of it. Come on -- he'd also thought divorcing Jordan would fix things, and that hadn't done a whole lot.

Anyway, the fact of the matter was that something... was in the air around here, and his nice new salary wasn't doing a whole lot to get rid of it. At first, he'd thought maybe it was just that he was more bored than usual... But nah, that wasn't it. Something was definitely different. Something was changing. People were starting to disappear left and right, like something was actually repelling them away from the place. And good God, some of the people that were coming in! He kept hearing rumors through the House Elves about all kinds of... well, some of it was better than his stories, but some of it was just downright disturbing, disgusting, and many, many other adjectives that, when you boiled it right down to it, all meant "screwed the hell up."

It had been putting him on edge, that was for sure. He was snappy to begin with, God knew, but lately even he had to admit he'd been unbearable. And -- well, he could not tell you why, but one day enough was enough.

Maybe it was that he'd gone down to the Popcorn Room and seen one too many new names he knew. Maybe it was that on his way to the Great Hall for lunch, an owl had crapped on his lab coat. Maybe it was just that he wasn't getting enough fiber in his diet. Whatever it was, he was done.

When he got back to work, an errant House Elf dropped a set of beakers, and Cox finally snapped for good. "All right," he snarled at the poor, terrified Elf, "that's it! I have had it up to here with the amateurish crap that goes on around this place aaaand if I have to go ahead and do hyeverything by myself, well, gosh darn it, I may as well do it someplace that doesn't make me want to go ahead and kill myself and everyone around me." He gave the Elf a twisted, manic grin and surged to his feet, knocking over the rest of the beakers. Whistling cheerfully, he stalked out of the Wing, heading back towards the Popcorn Room.

The fact of the matter was, magic wasn't fun anymore, not these days. The fun had gone right out of the whole damn place. And he couldn't go back home, not with everything he knew now. So, he guessed, it was time to find out what was next.

And maybe -- just maybe -- if he was reeee-heeeeeeally lucky -- JD wouldn't follow him this time.

schizowarrior.livejournal.com

((Backdated to Thanksgiving Day))

( to Geoffrey Tennant )

( to Nny and Devi )

( to Arya Stark )

( to Cyclona )

( to Doctor Maturin )

( to Jaime Reyes )

( to Shaun Riley )

( to Susan Sto Helit )

( to Lily Evans in the Hospital Wing )

Attached to each owl is a paper cup of small, pretty fruitcake cubes done up in waxed paper. They certainly look and smell appetizing, whatever else might be said of them.

It wasn't until the owls had been sent that Molly realized she'd massively overbaked--she had enough left over to send out probably twice the parcels she had.

Damn. Well, it really would be a shame to let it go to waste. People could be weird about eating something left out for common consumption, but maybe if the person who actually made it was there, it would be a little better. Might as well try, at least.

Accordingly, she hauled all her goodies down to the Great Hall, dragooning a small herd of house elves to help her set up a little stall. Some of them got some fruitcake, too, and wound up staggering off and occasionally bouncing into the walls, giggling. Molly smiled--it was always nice to see people properly enjoying the holidays.

Current Mood: accomplished

c-macaulay.livejournal.com

(( Dated just after Henry sends out his half of the invitations. ))

Invitations go out, identical save for the addressee's name, all of them hand-written (not by a Dictaquill; heaven forbid!) on a heavy smooth parchment, the wizarding equivalent of good stationery.

The following are the recipients:

Yoda
John Preston
Simkin
Bella Swan
Lestat de Lioncourt
Willow Rosenberg
Shaun Riley
Dean Winchester and Stephanie Brown (jointly, because Camilla still thinks they are a couple, but the invitation still says they can bring guests ...)
Robin Goodfellow
Geoffrey Tennant

( A simple and brief invitation )

Separate notes are sent out to a smaller group of people, to whom various additional allowances or apologies or explanations are owed:

( owl to Silas )

( owl to Susan Sto Helit )

( owl to Francis Abernathy )

( owl to Richard Papen )

( tiny animated stuffed gryphon to Charles Macaulay )

crazynotstoned.livejournal.com

( Owl to the Cast and Crew of A Midsummer Night's Dream )

edit ( Owl to Neil Perry )

coxinsox.livejournal.com

Hi all,

So as most but probably not all of you know, I'm leaving for Japan in... a couple of hours, actually, my goodness. I'm going to be gone for the next three-and-change weeks and until then my internet access is going to be pretty sporadic, so to make things simple I'm just going to go on hiatus.

Dr. Cox, Francis Abernathy, Mohinder Suresh, Jim Halpert and Anthony Crowley are all, for individual but important reasons, getting on a plane to New York; Robb Stark is going to accidentally sneak into Crowley's car while on a hunting spree and get dragged along for the ride. En route they run into a thunderstorm and the plane goes down! Luckily, everyone makes it out okay, but they're all going to be stranded on a desert island for the next month.

Constable Fraser will catch wind of the missing persons and set out intrepidly to find the lot of them. Unfortunately, he'll run into the same thunderstorm (it is very stubborn) and land on the same island.

Don't worry, they'll all be okay -- Crowley's going to build them a house to last them until they can get some help.

Geoffrey Tennant is entrenching himself deep in the dungeons so he can work on the play in peace. When I manage to get some access I will put a post up for that sometime while I'm gone! If you want to do play-related posts in the meantime, feel free, please!

DEATH and Jordan Sullivan are now both popcorn, and may they enjoy it very much. DEATH's journal is adoptable if anyone wants it.

I think that takes care of all of my characters... I'll be on email and possibly even in IRC sporadically, I hope, because I think I'll go crazy if I don't get to talk to anyone for the next month. *crosses fingers* But just in case, have a great August, and I will see you in September!

Love,
APN

crazynotstoned.livejournal.com

( A mass owl to the cast of the Dream )

( Owl to Carrie White )

Current Mood: tired

post-stab-crier.livejournal.com

((Okay'ed by the S&A muns.))

( I'm Darren Nichols. Deal with that! )

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

crazynotstoned.livejournal.com

((Hi all :D Sorry for the delay on this -- I was away, and then I was sicky sickity sick sick sick. Pretend the cast list was posted, you know, a week ago. To avoid spamming the comm I'm putting the rehearsal RP and the cast list in the same post -- OOC details on the rehearsal below!))

After carefully considering the auditions (and drinking himself into a stupor over some of them), Geoffrey made his decisions and carefully put together his cast. He posted the list up by the door in the Great Hall for everyone to see.

As it turns out, not quite enough people showed up to auditions, so a certain lucky few had been reluctantly allowed back into the cast...

( The List )
~*~*~

And so, one week later, Geoffrey sat in the empty classroom on the third floor and waited for his cast to arrive. The room was dominated by three long tables, forming the shape of a U, with an open space behind them. Geoffrey was seated at the bottom of the U, hunched over a sheaf of notes, scrawling quick, last-minute notes on them before the others got there. He'd lost a week of work thanks to the whole Twelfth Night debacle, and as a result things had been a little stressful for him since the auditions. Ellen had been weirdly helpful, but still... he was kind of nervous.

It didn't help that this play, this particular play, was the very last play the last Oliver Wells, Geoffrey's one-time best friend, mentor, and later personal ghost, had put on before he'd died. That wasn't helping at all. He kept expecting the man to show up again to help out -- he almost wished for it to happen, because he missed him, but the thought made the hair on the back of his neck stand up anyway.

Casting one last worried glance at the door, Geoffrey bit his lip and scribbled down another note. Oliver, Ellen, Bun-Bun, the cast... someone had to show up soon.

( OOC Note Part 2 )

Current Location: Rehearsal Space!

c-macaulay.livejournal.com

( to Geoffrey Tennant )

( to Francis Abernathy )

Current Mood: helpful

crazynotstoned.livejournal.com

So as far as Geoffrey knew, his production of Twelfth Night was well under way. No, really -- despite it having been weeks since his posters had been altered, he had somehow entirely failed to notice that the people who were signed up for the play were, in fact, signed up for a completely different one. This meant he was probably due for something of a surprise, today.

He'd cleared a large space in the Great Hall and tacked up a sign that said "Auditions here!" which he figured was enough decor. Pulling up three chairs -- one for himself, one for his stage manager, and one for Oliver... wait, make that two chairs -- he slouched down into his seat, rolled up his sleeves, and waited for the first arrival.

((This is primarily for people who are auditioning, but if you missed the signup and want to participate in the play, now's your chance!

Edit: So I figured we'd do one thread for each character, and they could read a little monologue and chat with Geoffrey and Bun-Bun if they liked. And please, feel free to mention A Midsummer Night's Dream. A lot. Geoffrey still has no idea that's what he's actually supposed to be working on.))

crazynotstoned.livejournal.com

Geoffrey had taken down his poster some time ago, and really, he had meant to sent out a batch of owls soon afterwards... but then his list had gotten lost beneath piles of notes and charts and diagrams and in all the midst of planning for ~~A Midsummer Night's Dream~~ Twelfth Night he had sort of forgotten about it, assuming someone else would take care of it.

It took him a while to remember the list, and longer to remember that there was no one else to take care of it. Fuck. He abandoned his scene study and dove into the elbow-deep piles of paper that scattered his room, fishing out the list.

He sat down at his desk and hastily composed several owls, all messy and covered in ink stains and smudges.

( Owls to Devi, Nny, Mr. Universe, Carrie White, Arthur Dent, Fred Weasley, and Strong Sad )

( Owl to Charles Ofdenson )

( Owl to Bun-Bun )

( Owls to Robin Goodfellow, Hedwig Robinson, Strong Bad, Molly Michon, Jack Harkness, Lola Sanchez, Bert, Dr. Killjoy, Archie Kennedy, Erk, Ford Prefect, Kelly Kapoor, Stephanie Brown, Rose Tyler, Tomo Takino, Brienne of Tarth, Luna Lovegood, Jo March, Ellen Fanshaw )

( Owl to Hamlet )

crazynotstoned.livejournal.com

Having decided on a play to put on as his Sorting bribe, Geoffrey realized it was probably about time to get people to actually help him on the production. And act, and whatnot. As much as he hated to admit it, it was hard to do a play without other people. Ellen was off ~~being the victim of her mun's carpal-tunnel~~ being unhelpful, so the postering was left up to him. He scribbled something down on a piece of parchment and stuck it up in the Great Hall.

It was some time later that a certain Robin Goodfellow saw the poster and was, naturally, outraged. A few quick scribbles hastily amended it to his satisfaction. Geoffrey didn't wind up noticing -- he could be just a little oblivious at times, and he was already absorbed with the preparations for his new production of Twelfth Night.

Little did he know what was now being advertised.

((OOC notes: Use of Robin okayed by his mun. This is just for signups and/or owls -- if you put your character's name down, Geoffrey will shoot them an owl to arrange an audition or interview. :) Go forth! Even if your character wouldn't act, there are lots of behind-the-scenes tasks that we can stick them on!))

Current Location: Great Hall

crazynotstoned.livejournal.com

It had been a few weeks since Geoffrey's admittance to Hogwarts, and for the most part he'd been taking advantage of the time to settle in, get used to the place, and mooch like only an ex-actor could. As someone who ran quite possibly the poorest theater in Montreal, and who was practically homeless to boot, he could damn well appreciate the free room and board that was offered without even the caveat of a straightjacket or, you know, a court order. He especially liked the free bar. That was a great perk. He'd been voted into Gryffindor, but since discovering the bar he and Ellen had been spending quite a bit of time in Ravenclaw.

Anyway, the point was, he'd been taking plenty of advantage, but he had made a promise, and it was getting on time to deal with that. He'd spent the past day mulling it over, and somehow at the end of the evening had once again migrated to the bar with Ellen.

Maybe drinking copiously would make the decision easier. Who knew? It had worked in the past!

He took a long pull of his beer, wiped a hand across his mouth, and frowned down at the bar. "Well, we can't do Titus," he protested. "It's too bloody. What's left?"

Current Location: Ravenclaw Bar

hedwigrobinson.livejournal.com

A slender, slightly-built woman staggered into the Sorting Room on high-heeled boots, emerging from a cloud of smoke, the kind a fog machine might make, stage-smoke. Wild eyes peered from garish pools of makeup, darting confused glances here and there. Hedwig Robinson tugged at the hems of her cutoffs and smoothed sweaty palms along her gleaming stockinged thighs.

She answered the questions in a voice somehow gravelly and clear at once, flavored with a pronounced East German accent. The questions seemed to amuse her. Everything seemed to amuse her, in a sort of bitter way.

( To be free, one must give up a little part of oneself. ... )

I have read the

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

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

Current Mood: artistic
Current Location: Sorting Room
Current Music: Hedwig and the Angry Inch, "Tear Me Down"

hidden-house.livejournal.com

Blythe House remembered ushering John onto his train, tuning out his usual complaints about how trains were too slow and how some idiot was going to do some such thing that would surely make him late. She remembered turning away from the distinctly normal-looking Amtrak train and having the idea to go to the market to buy herself some vegetables for a small stew she could eat while he was away. She remembers cooking that stew and waiting for her husband to return from his trip. Five days and he still wasn't back. It wasn't entirely unusual, but enough to set her on her guard. She remembers going to bed the previous night, thinking that if he wasn't home by dinner the next evening, she was going to call the police.

What she doesn't remember is someone possibly attacking and drugging her, which was the only explanation she could think of for why she seemed to be somewhere in Europe all of a sudden. The room she stood in and, indeed, the building that housed it was very, very old, she could see. She imagined that if Greg had been here, he might be able to tell her something about the architecture. He was always reading books and things about the places they'd lived in when he'd been younger. He would bend her ear for hours, telling her about the things he'd learned in school and wandering around the various countrysides. Blythe sighed deeply, missing Greg not for the first time. He was never a hugely talkative person, but he'd never gone more than six months without calling before. She certainly hoped that whatever he was doing, he wasn't in any trouble. Sighing and reminding herself that he probably didn't want to worry or bore her with what he saw to be trivial and inane (no matter how many times she tried to tell him that he never bored her; she didn't think he could, her dear), she looked around the room. There was a desk in the middle of it with a single sheet of what looked like parchment and...a quill? Now she was slightly amused, if from nervousness. If she didn't know better, she almost felt as though she'd fallen into one of the books she'd read Greg when he'd been a child. He'd always loved them.

Smiling at the thought, she shifted her purse higher onto her shoulder and went to sit down at the table. She felt a bit silly picking up the quill and dipping it into the inkwell provided alongside it, but she figured there wasn't much else she could do.

( Here goes something possibly anticlimatic...though I do hope I don't explode... )

I have read the

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

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

Current Mood: worried
Current Location: The Sorting Room
Current Music: 'Tiny Vessels' by Death Cab for Cutie

crazynotstoned.livejournal.com

((Here thar be BIG fat spoilers for seasons 1-3 of "Slings and Arrows." Read at your own risk! Application with permission of Ellen-mun.))

A man appears in the Sorting Room, tall and unshaven, with wild brown hair, badly rumpled clothing and a long black coat that reaches to his knees. He's halfway turned around, reaching for something with one hand, calling over his shoulder: "Yeah, sure, I'm just going to grab some--"

What he's grabbing, though, is apparently not to be known. He cuts off in midsentence, seeming to realize what's just happened to him. He slowly turns and stares at the Sorting Room, the blood draining from his face, his mouth going slack.

"Oh, no," he croaks. "Not again... Ellen?" he asks in a small voice. He turns in a slow circle, his face ashen, his fingers nervously pulling at his motheaten sleeves. "Oliver?" He sounds hopeful for a moment, but when he gets no reply his face falls. "OLIVER!" he bellows in a voice loud enough to echo off the rafters; the sound of his own voice hits him like an assault, making him wince.

It's then that Geoffrey -- he being Geoffrey -- spots the table with the quill and paper on it. He approaches it cautiously, as if afraid it might attack him. When it does no such thing, he peers over the application. Surprised, he lets out a sharp snort of laughter. "What is this, Oliver, a test?" He looks around, then snorts again and shrugs. "Fine. Why not?"

Leaning over the table, Geoffrey flourishes the quill and begins to fill out the application, his hands shaking as he writes.

( Well, my baggage is now literal. )

When he's calmed down again, he signs with an inky flourish:
I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. GT
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. GT.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. GT.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. GT

Current Mood: crazy

Profile

HH_mirror

March 2022

S	M	T	W	T	F	S
		1	2	3	4	5
6	7	8	9	10	11	12
13	14	15	16	17	18	19
20	21	22	23	24	25	26
27	28	29	30	31

Syndicate

Page Summary

Style Credit

Style: Neutral Good for Practicality by timeasmymeasure

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags

Page generated Jun. 15th, 2025 02:30 pm

Entries tagged with geoffrey tennant

Gently Into That Good Blah Blah Blah

Owls and Open RP: Nothing says Thanksgiving like Pharmaceutical Fruitcake

more invitations!

He Emerges!

OOC: Hiatus desu desu desu

Assorted Owls

Application: Darren Nichols (Slings & Arrows)

A Midsummer Night's Insanity: Rehearsal the First!

owls to Geoffrey Tennant and Francis Abernathy

Open RP: Auditions!

Owls to the Cast and Crew

Open: Auditions!

Open RP: Two Shakespeareans Walk Into a Bar...

Hedwig Robinson, "Hedwig and the Angry Inch"

Application for Blythe House from House, M.D.

Application for Geoffrey Tennant (Slings and Arrows)

Profile

March 2022

Syndicate

Most Popular Tags

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags