[identity profile] iam-beowulf.livejournal.com
Beowulf loved the Secret Santa exchange. He had loved it ever since Pippi Longstocking gave him the gift of rainbow-striped scarf, hat, and matching gloves, which he wore every year at Yule thereafter.

The concept of Santa, however, had very little to do with the holiday cheer Beowulf knew best. This year, he decided, as Gryffindor Prefect he would take matters into his own hands.

Posters went up everywhere, dictated by Beowulf to about twenty Dictaquills writing on twenty different sheets of parchment at once, and subsequently tacked up by house elves in all the usual places.



HWÆT! Yule tide does approach!

We call upon you to give gifts to one another, in the manner of a Yule Goat. If you do this, a Yule Goat will also give a gift unto you! If you fail to honor your pledge of gift-giving, a Yule Goat will disapprove!

Note the name by which you are called, if you wish to take part in this jolly exchange!

You have until the 10th day of December to make your pledge. On the 11th day of December, you will be told the name of the Hogwartsman whose Yule Goat you will be!




((OOC note!: Wishbone's player has kindly passed the torch to Beowulf this year. Beowulf will be organizing the Secret Santa exchange along the same lines as Wishbone's exchange last year.

Like last year, characters can ICly sign up other characters if the mun has OOC approval from the other character's player. Just note the permission OOCly in your comment.

Either let me know what e-mail address I should associate with that character's player, or what LJ account I should PM, once Beowulf has made all the assignments. ICly the character will receive an owl from Beowulf giving them their assignment, which is how the characters who didn't sign themselves up will find out they are obligated! OOCly, I'll either e-mail or PM each player.))
[identity profile] junkyard-hunter.livejournal.com

The first thing he realized was that he had a screaming headache. It wasn’t the kind that was brought on by spending too much time drinking, or even getting cracked on the head. The second thing was that his cheek was resting on something cool and hard. Stone? What the hell?

The hunter’s eyes snapped open and he pulled himself to his feet.

I got your cut right here.. )

[identity profile] scarysensei.livejournal.com
[OOC: Iruka is from manga chapter 450, "The Joyful Village". Possible spoilers in the comments, but not the post itself. Hope I'm doing this right.. if not, smack me down, daddy!]

Iruka froze. One minute he'd been sitting on the grass outside, alone, watching the sun go down. He was now sitting on a stone floor, in a small room with a desk. In a flash he was pressed against the wall, hand dipping into his thigh-pack for a kunai - I'm running low on those, better keep hand-to-hand and throw as few of them as possible - his head turning sharply to discern if anyone was in the room. He heard nothing and after searching the place for a minute or so with his eyes, he half-relaxed, staying alert for any noise but losing the tense posture. His eyes had noticed the desk earlier and he stepped towards it curiously, then jerked backwards as the quill rose without support, dipped itself neatly in the ink and began to write with sure sharp strokes. After ensuring it wasn't a threat, Iruka began to read what was there.

Either Iruka knows English or there is a nifty little charm in place here~ )

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

[OOC: Edited once to change a word ("cloak" to "flak jacket"). I was too into the Potter-y vibes to be paying attention to the fact that he doesn't wear a cloak.]
[identity profile] ukon-sakon.livejournal.com
Tachibana Sakon is a bunraku puppeteer. Ukon is a bunraku puppet made in the 1870 (the series is set in the late 1990s). As Sakon is shy enough to be practically mute without Ukon and Ukon is a puppet, they are together. Sakon is also a master ventriloquist. His mouth doesn't move when Ukon talks and their voices are different. He can also mimic voices he's heard, though he tends not to very often as he feels that mimicing voices is something similar to channeling. Ukon can be touched, but permission would be needed, either IC or OOC to actually remove him from Sakon's control. For Sakon's sanity, though, Ukon shall have to be indestructible as his version of the 'no kill' spell (or, in other words...I'm fine with curious poking, asking to take the puppet, but no taking apart the puppet).

One of the joys of being a performer was being able to travel. Sakon enjoyed being a street performer, enjoyed the more formal stage performing, even enjoyed the practice for performing. He loved puppetry, loved learning more of it, exploring more. He was going to a museum in Hokkaido, a long way from his home, to learn more about the art of puppet making and repair. While his family did have ties to a school of puppet makers, it was still a good idea for him to know as much as he could about as many different techniques as he could. And, he enjoyed the opportunity to travel. The journey also coincided with the autumn festivals, giving him a chance to perform as well.

He was dressed for travel, as well—a long, brown trench coat with and elbow length cape over the shoulders to keep out the cold, his sneakers on his feet, comfortable for walking and standing in, black pants, a black, long-sleeved shirt and the sleeve covers that kept his sleeves out of the way of his puppetry, and a gear-like collar. On his back, the green wooden case that held Ukon and in one hand, the suitcase that held clothes for him. He traveled light, his family only providing enough for the train fare up. It was up to him to earn the fare back and to cover a place to stay—a task he'd yet to fail in.

When he arrived at the gates of the castle, he thought it a little strange. He couldn't remember any building like the one before him in Japan, but he also knew that western style archetecture wasn't completely unheard of. The grounds looked different, too, but it was his first trip to Hokkaido, so he wasn't entirely sure what to expect. As the gates were open, he started to proceed, only to pause. He brought the case on his back forward and Ukon burst out of it.

"What is this, Sakon? This doesn't look like a museum!" the puppet declared, looking around, even over Sakon's shoulder.

"I'm not sure, Ukon. This is where the train and the map led us," the boy replied, his voice much gentler, quieter than his puppet's.

"Are you sure you read it right?" Ukon demanded.

Sakon chuckled, handing over the map. While Ukon examined the map, Sakon adjusted the case on his back and picked up his suitcase and started toward the castle again.

"Oi, Sakon, that lake is on the wrong side," Ukon said as they approached the doors to the castle.

Looking over at the map the puppet held, Sakon considered a moment then turned it around. "No, it's not," he said, raising his hand to knock on the door. It opened before him, though, before he made contact.

"This place gives me the creeps," Ukon complained.

"Hush, Ukon. We were invited," Sakon replied, though a shadow of doubt flickered over his features.

They remained in the door, though, a portrait of contrast. Sakon, with his dark clothing, dark hair, fair skin and violet eyes, still, only his eyes moving as he looked around the strange room. Ukon, a child's puppet, a masterpiece of work, with bright red hair, blue eyes and a yellow haori over a white kimono, a blue collar showing at his neck, a square sash around his neck with white medallions on it, looking around avidly, his neck craning, trying to take in everything.

"Well, I guess we're here," Ukon declared, his hands coming up behind his head. "Might as well see what this place is about, Sakon."

Sakon walked in, turning when the door closed behind him. "It seems we have little choice," he mumbled.

"What?" Ukon demanded, his eyes wide as he stared at the door.

"Nothing, don't worry about it," Sakon said, turning back to the room. As there was nowhere to remove his shoes, he left them on, walking over to a table in the center of the room. He picked up one of the pieces of paper on it, handing it over when Ukon demanded to see it.

What is the meaning of this? )
[identity profile] nerdsexgoddess.livejournal.com
((Backdated to sometime during the holidays. I'd have put this up sooner except, well, I've been busy.))
Given how well it had worked last year, Amaranth decided that spreading holiday saliva was a tradition that should continue for as long as possible.

Thus it was that, with the assistance of house elves, she made sure mistletoe was hanging above every frequently (and not so frequently) used door in the school. The mistletoe would be charmed to remain levitated over the school for a few days, which was certainly long enough, in Amaranth's view, for gratuitous snogging to commence.

Satisfied with her work, the nymph bounced gaily down the halls, eager to assist anyone should they find themselves in need of a makeout partner.
[identity profile] woocha.livejournal.com
The house elves were arranging presents under the tree, well, what can fit anyway. Some of the bigger and more mobile things were placed nearby. Each gift has a pretty tag saying who it's for.

And where was the dog that arranged all this?

Er...he's sleeping on the table. Lots of yummy treats will do that to you.

[[OOC: Secret Santa gifts are here.

I know, four of you are missing gifts (well, two technically, since two of the characters are mine). Rest assured, you will be taken care of.

People who still haven't posted their gifts, you have until tomorrow to post them. Otherwise, one of the pinch hitters will do so instead.]]
[identity profile] prettypendulum.livejournal.com
Startled profanity announced Kuronue's appearance in the sorting room. Twisting at the waist and peaking over his shoulder to look around rather warily, as well as curiously, he let loose another mumbled tangle of words that may or may not have made much sense to anyone who was close enough to hear. He wasn't quite sure what he'd said himself he was so startled. There had been blackness, and then...this.

"Right," he said to himself. "Right, okay. Stranger things have happened."

Shaking his head and stretching his wings a little, he figured it was the correct thing to do to wander over to the table not too far away from him. He stared down at the parchment for a moment, then sighed. Honestly, he'd seen stranger. He was a demon. A big nasty demon with pointy claws and fangs to go with it. This shouldn't startle him as much as it did.

People came back to life suddenly all the time. Uh-huh.

Kuronue shrugged his worries away and began fiddling with his old straw hat without realising it. He bent forward to read the first question.

Allow me to elucidate. )

"I have read the [livejournal.com profile] hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. __Kuronue__."
I have read the [livejournal.com profile] hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. __Kuronue__.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. __Kuronue__.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. __Kuronue__."
[identity profile] mixedup-pup.livejournal.com
A soft coalescence of heavenly blue light made itself happen in the Sorting Room. It stirred into a cloud, a shape, a body... a dog. A mangy, flea bitten mutt that could have been part german shepherd somewhere down the line, but was all mutt from the tip of one gnawed ear to the bottoms of his dirty paws.

Charlie B. Barkin, formerly alive, dead, alive and dead again, dropped from the blue, sparkling cloud in an undignified heap with all the grace allotted his species, which was to say none.

"One place this ain't is Heaven," Charlie muttered, picking himself off the floor with a pained grunt. He didn't remember there being cold stone floors in Heaven. Or stone walls, or anything that wasn't pink clouds, stars, halos and clocks.

So maybe (definitely) he wasn't going back after all. Hell, all of that pretty blue light and the "come home, Charlie" and the sparkles... Never trust a whippet. Heck, never trust a damn dead dog about anything. especially ones that could dance.

Sure, he'd died for Anne-Marie (and Itchy. God bless him, never forget Itchy) and he'd do it all over again if he was asked to. But he figured if this is where someone who nobly sacrificed his life to be a Good Dog and do the things that Good Dogs did ended up, well... he didn't want it anyway. Not that he had a choice.

Well, he'd dealt with worse. And if the worst this place (wherever this place was) could throw at him was a floating pansy pen, then he'd take here over New Orleans any day. Better than getting shot at by Flash Gordon rayguns or being nearly-eaten by foppish, gigantic sewer gators. Nothing, he was sure, could beat that.

He sniffed at the quill and parchment topped table, wishing for nothing more at that moment than a stiff drink.

What's a dog gotta do to get a drink in this joint? )

"I have read the [info]hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. ______Charlie B.______
I have read the [info]hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. _____Charlie B.______.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. _____Charlie B.______.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. ______Charlie B._______"
[identity profile] llsymmetryll.livejournal.com
Death the Kid adjusted the lapels of his jacket briefly as he walked into the Sorting Hall with an expression of reverence. The decor met with his approval- for the most part.

"This room, it's set up beautifully!" As he glanced upwards, his smile shifted to a frown of concern. "Those candles though, they should really be realigned in a more organized manner."

The parchment and quill soon caught his attention, and he approached both curiously. "What's this? He scowled and put a hand to his chin as he examined the quill's handiwork. "I suppose this lettering is adequate." Had it been recording his observations in an unsatisfactory manner, he would have had to put a stop to it.


Why can't there be eight questions? )


"I have read the [livejournal.com profile] hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. Death the Kid
I have read the [livejournal.com profile] hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. Death the Kid
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. Death the Kid
One day, marmalade will rule the world. Death the Kid"
[identity profile] fatedjune.livejournal.com
Preperation and calling participants to the stage )

After waiting a bit in front of the short stack of cotton blankets with her ritual hoe, which has a golden head and red ropes that tie bells to the hoe, Rika thinks that enough time has passed to gather all the participants that wish to drift cotton and/or see her ritual dance. Ginko, who has his back turned to the audience beats the drum a final time and Rika begins.

Rika grips the hoe with both hands, moving the hoe to a perfectly horizontal position, before lifting it above her head while doing a little spin. Rika then sharply swings the hoe down and turns around. She lets go of the hoe with one hand and make a sweeping motion over until she is facing the audience again. Going back to the hoe she turns again, now facing the blankets and swings the hoe over her shoulders to rip open the top blanket. She ends the dance by bowing to the audience and announces that they may now take a handful of cotton to ball up and float in the lake.

Rika lays the fake hoe she made with magic behind the stage and Ginko starts the cotton drifting by collecting his and heads towards the lake. Rika eventually makes her way down to the lake with a cotton ball of her own.

((ooc: feel free to have characters talk to Rika or Ginko, or neither of them))
[identity profile] dinosaurman.livejournal.com
((Open to all, even those who didn't sign up. I couldn't think of a partner activity, so feel free to team up or talk to whomever you want for the "assignment." And, credit where credit is due, the information comes from Principles of Animal Behavior, Lee Alan Dugman, 2004.))

After waiting long enough for everyone who was going to show up to arrive, Grant started his lecture.

The queen is the one wearing the little grass lingerie )
[identity profile] gourmetchairman.livejournal.com
The Chairman was stuck.

He had an idea for a battle (which had temporarily gotten shelved, but he's gotten back on it.)

He knew exactly who to owl and who should be paired up with who.

He had a good idea whom he wished to judge for the battle.

He even tested the Room of Requirement (after long hesitating) to find that yes, it will scale down Kitchen Stadium to be more kid friendly.

But he couldn't think of a theme ingredient.

Which if he couldn't decide on one, he might as well not do it. It had to be something relatively easy and universal, meaning nothing too expensive.

But every theme he thought of he thought of quite a few reasons why he shouldn't.

Which explains why he's in the Great Hall drumming his hand on the table lost in thought.
[identity profile] 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. ____________"
[identity profile] serrulata.livejournal.com
Outside greenhouse six there was a sign:

DETECTION AND DEFENSE AGAINST DANGEROUS MAGICAL PLANTS

Students enter at own risk. Non-participants please stay near the exits and behind the red line.


True to the sign, there was a red line drawn in chalk segmenting two thirds of the greenhouse. The third behind the line was closest to the door, and clear of obstacles.

The space beyond the line, however, was a different story. )
[identity profile] kingbandit.livejournal.com
Boys, regardless of their origin, are drawn to trouble like moths to a candle flame. In his explorations of the grounds and nearby towns, Jing came across some foods that promised great entertainment. While collecting them had been quite entertaining (getting around some of the anti-theft charms had proven quite fun), he wasn't quite willing to try them himself. He had seen food offered in the Great Hall before and that gave him an idea.

He set out the collected items, some sweets, some savories, all with various enchantments on them, buffet style and took a seat over in a corner with a sandwich he'd purloined from the kitchen, free from the enchantments set on the other foods, to watch.

((OOC: as stated above, all the food is enchanted, your choice with what and what you get. Jing is available for RP or ignore him, as you like))
[identity profile] serrulata.livejournal.com
After the first thousand years or so, Kurama found a way to control exhausting emotions like rage and hate and the like. Most of the time, he could cool down after a moment, probably following some bit of vengeful destruction, and move on.

Sometimes, however, it took more than just a little vengeful destruction.

In which a large amount of greenhouse two is methodically destroyed. )
[identity profile] elegantsamurai.livejournal.com
So, there was another demon at the school, this one seeming more like the kenyou he was used to. He knew the reason he stood a chance against Kurama was that the kitsune often held himself back when they sparred, adapting himself to human limitations for the amusement and the verbal sparring that was part of their matches. With Kurama, it was a game. With Karasu, it wouldn't be. And, though Yukimura was confident of a great many things, his skill against a full demon not holding back wasn't one of them.

Winter would be ending soon. He forced his mind onto the weather, allowing his subconscious to work a strategy. As he had ideas, he would play them through in his mind, but circular thinking would not help him. He was a strategist, a general. He had won against 'impossible odds' and would again.

For now, he needed something else to think about. He sat on one of the staircases, looking up at the ceiling, a bottle of sake held loosely in one hand, his cup, currently empty, in the other, resting on his lap.

((OOC: Yeah, that Kaga thread...Not so safe for work))
[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."

Leap 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"

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