[identity profile] engravedonsouls.livejournal.com
In more recent days, Lenneth had steadily come to the realization that she'd never cooked a day in her life. In fact, Platina hadn't done any cooking either. The lack of food, in the home of the Valkyrie's human form, had forced Platina's mother to do the cooking so that no food was wasted. She could only recall that the meals were terrible but at least Platina had been fed.

And now, Lenneth wondered if perhaps she could cook a meal. She spent the better part of the day hunting for books on cooking, and then searching for recipes that didn't appear complicated. There was a pie that looked good but it seemed like it'd be hard. Maybe she'd try that once she got the hang of cooking. And then she found a recipe for tarts that had some kind of "peanut butter cups" placed in them. That one was certainly tempting, so she made a note of that one. And there was the classic chocolate chip cookies.

The goddess obviously chose the easy and well-loved chocolate chip cookies.

It started out well enough. She mixed the batter, poured in the chips and figured out (after about twenty minutes) how to preheat the oven. When the cookies went in, she was careful and then went to do what else she needed. Lenneth wasn't sure how it happened, but her cookies burned... in fire. She yelped and jumped back before fumbling for her wand and putting it out. Sure, she's a goddess and it couldn't hurt her too terribly but it was still a terrible surprise when your cookies catch fire! Even more so when, as you try to put the fire out, the sleeve of your robe catches fire. Her armor had always been so much more convenient. At least she could put the fire out without help.

But cooking was definitely... Not something she'd be trying for a long while.
[identity profile] ugly-old-hat.livejournal.com
The party was not intended to celebrate Halloween, actually, but to celebrate the existence of pumpkins. It just seemed Halloween would be a good time for that kind of a celebration.

Wizarding culture had a special regard for the pumpkin, making it into tarts and juice and savories, forcing it down the gullets of every magic-user from such a tender age as to form a lifelong habit. The Sorting Hat, being steeped in magic, had also steeped itself in many a vessel of pumpkin juice over the centuries of its storied existence. Pumpkin juice, pumpkin ale, pumpkin hooch. Gooey pumpkin-gut strings, luxurious nutrient-rich slime studded with pale seeds. Oh pumpkins, glorious gourd of wizard's delight!

The Hat had dubbed this party after one of its favorite recipes: the LUSCIOUS PUMPKIN JAM.

The huge doors of the Great Hall were open. While magic kept the chill seasonal drafts from the Great Hall itself, party-goers who wished to enjoy the crisp autumn air could do so from the luxury of a pumpkin carriage. These were quite literally hollowed pumpkins that the Hat's magic had transfigured into full-size carriages, capable of carrying several occupants. Each was lit from within by enchanted candles, and studded with gleaming black jewels, with carved faces in lieu of windows. Several of the enchanted wonders were lined up outside the doors, with their house-elf coachmen ready to whisk students around the school grounds in slightly-gooey, pumpkin-scented comfort.

Indoors, all was warm and merry, and candlelit, and mostly orange. Instead of bobbing for apples, guests could bob for miniature pumpkins, the sort Martha Stewart might have used to decorate a mantelpiece, their tub filled with pumpkin juice in lieu of water. A pumpkin-carving station took prominent position near the doors, with paints and yarn to bedeck uncarved gourds for those students uninterested in pulling out pumpkin pulp. Tables had been moved to accommodate a dance floor, with a karaoke machine placed nearby. Golems inspired by Arcimboldo, wholly composed of autumnal fruits, did duty as waiters and DJs.

From the vantage of the head table, elevated above the main body of the hall, the Hat could take in all at once the entire spectacle. Satisfied, it rapped a self-congratulatory pastiche/homage:

"There ain't no party like a Sorting Hat party 'cause a Sorting Hat party don't STOP!"

The Hat felt most coolio itself, extending a strap to caress languidly the sequined sombrero that lay beside its place at the Great Hall's head table. The sombrero did not respond, of course. It was rather like the hat-equivalent of a RealDoll. Inert though it might be, the sombrero was velvety AND blingy, and that was what mattered.
[identity profile] engravedonsouls.livejournal.com
Lenneth had spent far to much time inside the castle, exploring each corridor, room, the computer lab (gods in Asgard, she would not be spending more than a few minutes at a time in there with those things) and the library and, of course, practicing with the instruments that Lezard had left her. With enough time here, Lenneth had calmed considerably when it came to the necromancer but she'd be unlikely to seek him out at any time and she'd be damned if she attempted to play nice.

It had been a thoughtful gesture though, delivering her those instruments. Lenneth had grown quite fond of them, which was one of the reasons she'd spent so much time in the library.

With the weather as warm as it had been lately, Lenneth had decided to go for a swim. And with the people here, she'd sooner enter a divine sleep than swim naked as she might have with her sisters and the elves in Midgard. So she spent some time finding a swim suit. Oddly enough, the only one she could find that would fit her comfortably was quite frilly and exposed much of her body, much to her disappointment. Others wouldn't be so objective towards it, she was sure. So she was careful as she went out to the lake.

From experience, she knew lake water would be far more cold than a pool. And that was to her liking. The chill of the water would feel refreshing, make her feel like she was more full of life than ever. And, if she had been tired, it would wake her in a heartbeat.
[identity profile] soris-tabris.livejournal.com
 Soris came through a small, wooden door, very, very confused. He had been going into the marketplace to sell a few things-- and upon walking out the front door to his home had ended up here.

"Shianni? Look, this isn't funny. Kallian?" His cousin was Warden-Commander and hero of Fereldan, sure, but for her to gather all these resources just to play a trick on him seemed unlike her.

"All right, this is too strange. Somebody needs to explain what's going on..."

And that's when he saw the parchment sitting on the desk in the middle of the room.

State your full name.
Soris looked a little nervous. “I, uh... Soris Tabris.”
1. What is your favorite cheese? Why is it your favorite?
“Well, if we're really lucky, we can buy some of the nicer stuff from the Denerim marketplace. But, uh, we don't get lucky very often.”
2. Who would you kill first, Barney or Carrottop?
“I'm not... I don't...” It actually takes a moment for the young elf to compose himself before he speaks again. “I don't do that anymore. If they hurt my family, though, I'd do it.”
3. What time is it where you are?
Soris glances about the room, looking out the window. “I think it's still morning. It's still kind of light out.”
4. If you were Albus Dumbledore returned from the dead, which member of the Order of the Phoenix would you sexually harass? How would you harass them? If you are Albus Dumbledore, please answer as if you were Sirius Black.
“I wouldn't dare,” said Soris, visibly angry. “it's... a very sensitive subject. Ask the next question.”
5. If you are pushing to be in:

A. Slytherin - please state the clever, witty name of the bar in which you bartend, in the dark.
“Uh... The, uh...” Soris ponders for a long while. “The Kidnapped Bridesmaid? Because it sounds witty in retrospect but was horrible at the time... Dear Maker, I'm not good at being witty.”
B. Gryffindor – Debate whether Harry should ultimately end up married to Fred or George. Use examples from a variety of world mythologies to bolster your argument.
“He should end up with someone he loves. I mean, I'm no theologian, but the Maker is very big on love.” Soris looked at his answer askance, praying that they would accept what he'd offered.
C. Ravenclaw – You guys are supposed to be smart. Explain why my desk is inundated with paperwork at all times, even though I'm constantly disposing of it.
“Well, try putting lots of stuff on the desk so that there's nowhere to put the paperwork,” the young elf offered hopefully. He was smart, for someone who hadn't been given much schooling outside of ancient elven history, reading, and combat training.
D. Hufflepuff – Prove you are not useless.
“I, uh... I killed Vaughan Urien. I'm not really proud of it, but I killed him.” He paused. “I mean, my cousin was there, but I landed the final blow. She just sorta killed the other two guys. But it was Vaughan we were after!”
6. Offer a bribe to the members of this community so that they will not squib you. Items used in bribery do not necessarily have to belong to the person offering the bribe. Do not threaten us rather than offering a bribe. A threat indicates you either don't really want to be here, or don't have enough sense to answer the question properly. The hat will automatically squib you, regardless of other votes, if you do.
I, uh, I can give you these!” Soris pulled a small package out of his backpack-- his wedding clothes, which he had been planning to sell. “They're really nicely made. The whole alienage chipped in.”

"I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. ___Soris_____
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. ___Soris___.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. ___Soris___.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. __Soris___"
[identity profile] arrogantmage.livejournal.com
((not nsfw but if you find stalkerish behavior triggering you will not wish to read this thread))

He had a plan. He always did. )
[identity profile] arrogantmage.livejournal.com
Too heavy for owls to carry, yet these gifts were not seen to be delivered by any house elves. One morning they were simply there, heaped outside the door to Lenneth Valkyrie's dormitory room.

Musical instruments of Earth, from a mishmash of places and eras and cultures: a panpipe, an oboe, a kanun, a bouzouki, a balalaika, an autoharp, a didgeridoo, a harpsichord that very nearly blocked the corridor. None featured any special additions or alterations save one: a Moog synthesizer hooked up to a potted carnivorous plant whose container had been encrusted in glowing crystals. (Insects or meat would feed the plant; the plant fed the crystals; the crystals powered the Moog.)

That these gifts were left outside the room could itself be considered a statement, of a sort.

Upon the harpsichord's stand a quire of what might have been sheet music had been perched, open to a page of staves entirely blank of notes. At the top of the page, well clear of the topmost stave, a few words had been written in a hand the Valkyrie might recognize:

Nothing is true. Everything is permitted.
[identity profile] scribe-counter.livejournal.com
((Veronica is taken from after the Independent ending, companion quest finished on the Causeless Rebel path, and the Dead Money DLC completed. Potential spoilers accordingly. I haven't RPed here in ages, please tell me if I'm botching something))

The woman entering the Sorting Room in what looked like a brown potato sack with a hood on top might be mistaken for a monk – that is, if you didn't take into account the mechanical gauntlet on her right hand that would hurt at high velocity. With a tired sigh, she lowered her rucksack from her shoulder and turned to the application.

A fresh start. From what she'd managed to pick up after arriving in a place that was unexpectedly metropolitan beyond even the preserved grandeur of New Vegas, her travels had shunted her into another version of the Old World. There was a lot of science involved, and at this point she wasn't ruling out magic. Her knowledge of technology might not be as helpful here, but at least the Brotherhood of Steel wouldn't be after her for giving it out.

'Tell me about yourself'? My favorite subject! )

“Well, hope you'll take a chance on a naïve young girl from postapocalyptic Nevada with stars in her eyes and a pneumatic gauntlet on her hand."

"I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. _____VS_______
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. _____VS______.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. _____VS______.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. _____VS (Ooh, like an irradiated jar from the Old World gone horribly wrong? Check the safety seals, people!)________"
[identity profile] mistersnippy.livejournal.com
This was new. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been in a building that was fully intact, devoid of corpses and free of irradiated monsters. Even now--with a ridiculous cancer-purse and a gas mask still habitually in place--it actually made him feel some measure of... hope.

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. _____MS_____
I have read the [livejournal.com profile] hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. ____MS_____.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. ____MS_____.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. _____MS______")
[identity profile] ugly-old-hat.livejournal.com
The Sorting Hat kept up with the trends! It knew that the world was scheduled to end on May 21, and all the righteous would be uplifted to Heaven.

Since the Sorting Hat knew itself to be the wisest and most righteous being of all, it came to the most logical conclusion.

Upon waking from a nap on the afternoon of the 21st, and realizing it was still at Hogwarts, the Hat understood that it was already in Heaven.

Hogwarts was heaven.

"Halos and harps for everyone!" the Hat decreed.

And so it was. House elves brought everyone gilt halos and strap-on wings and hand-held harps, or autoharps, or the occasional harmonica (the house elves had taken to tasing one another for fun, and their mental acuity was not what it once was). The Great Hall (still home to the wax display of Hatsguard Heroes, mind you) was bedecked in white draperies, tinsel, and leftover battle fog from the Harkonnen Dining Experience machines (the Hat felt this would create a cloudlike effect). Angel food cake and ambrosia were the evening meal. Oh, and cans of Red Bull ((at player suggestion, because it GIVES YOU WINGS)).

Debbie Gibson's BELINDA CARLISLE's "Heaven Is a Place on Earth" was piped through WART, the insipid soundtrack of Hat Heaven. Alternating with the Elvenking cover of same ((thanks to Igor-mun)).
[identity profile] engravedonsouls.livejournal.com
Lenneth's eyes roamed the room she found herself in. Her wings were spread, pristine white and almost shining. She did not move a muscle for mere moments ago she had been with her sisters and allies, standing before Lezard in his twisted world. Her right hand is held till over the hilt of her blade, waiting for some sign of hostilities.

None came, and the Goddess allowed herself to relax. Her wings vanished, only a couple feathers falling the the ground around her. Normally used to show that a fallen warrior was chosen to fight for the gods, Lenneth cannot help but spare them a moments glance as she recalled times when that was all she was meant for.

Allow me to elucidate. )

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

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