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vislor-turlough.livejournal.com

OOC: While the people below have signed up, this is open for anyone to enter the crazy.

So. It's Valentine's Day. Turlough had rounded up a few house elves to do his bidding. Said bidding was to set up tables with name cards, a table with food and drink (which may or may not be hexed, I couldn't decide), and a sign:

We will not be responsible for anyone fed love potions.

Because someone will.

We also will not be responsible for any actions here on in.

Turlough stood in the corner of the Great Hall, drink in hand, smirk on face as he watched people come on (or forced in by cattleprod point, in Soichiro's case.)

( Pairings as followed )

bantersucks.livejournal.com

((To keep things short, posting all my pups' gifts in one post. Also, just listing who got what rather than doing tons and tons of LJ-cuts. Backdated to Christmas morning - sorry, it's so late, but I've had maybe a few minutes at a time to compose anything at the laptop since Christmas AND IT WAS STARTED ON TIME SO THERE. If you are not on this list, you're getting the gift at the party or you got it in an owl reply ~~or because the mun is still working on it, darn it~~.))

May had been so wrapped up in coordinating the Secret Santa and baking way too many cookies (she'd accidentally tripled the recipe, oops) that she almost forgot to send out her gifts. Fortunately, with the help of Alley and a couple owls, she did so:

( To: Mel Beeby, Brice de Winter, Jaime Reyes, Laura Palmer, Tomo Takino )

Jaime didn't forget - May had talked him into being her guinea pig in the cookie-baking, and had rewarded him with about a third of the results when she realized she'd made too much. Thus Sancho was flying all around Hogwarts for most of the morning. Which was good since the raven was too tired to really follow through with his shiny-stealing tendencies for once.

( To: Tomo, May, George King, Molly Michon )

Christmas? Tomo, forget Christmas? Of course not. No holiday that involved presents would be forgotten! She somehow managed to bully the owls into sending her packages out.

( To: Douche (Dwight), Kagura, Osaka, Demyx, Jaime, Mayday )

Current Mood: busy

runaway-stark.livejournal.com

( Owl and package to Ned Stark )

( Owl and package to Catelyn Stark )

( Owl and package to Jon Snow )

( Owl and package to Sansa Stark )

( Owl and package to Robb Stark )

( Owl and package to Brienne of Tarth )

( Owl and package to Molly Michon )

( Owl and package to Lily Potter )

( Owl and package to John Ryder )

( Owl and package to Laura Palmer )

( Owl and package to Ray Kowalski )

lady-thujone.livejournal.com

Flyers had appeared all over the school.

Come to the Little Green Apple's Holiday Spectacular! Fine food and drink! Door Prizes! Karaoke! Special Holiday-Only smoking blends!

The cozy little establishment had been adorned with banners in deep gold and rich jewel tones, and the smell of spices filled the air.Jones holiday sodas were laid out at each table and booth. A buffet table was loaded with festive treats; roast goose, ornate marzipan fruits, gingerbread men (and an elaborate gingerbread house), mince pies, rum balls, a selection of fine cheeses, and many other delicacies. And of course there was the drinks table, featuring a punchbowl brimming with a vividly green concoction, eggnog (also faintly greenish) dusted with nutmeg, mulled wine, hot cider, and rich cocoa flowed freely.

To complete the festivities, La Fee Verte had brought out the karaoke machine. What party would be complete without it?

"Welcome, darlings! Welcome to the Little Green Apple's Holiday Spectacular!"

((OOC: The punch and eggnog are, of course, intensely alcoholic, as are a few of the holiday treats. The real culprit, however, is the cider! Any character who drinks it is liable to suffer the bizarre, if temporary, magical effect of your choosing.))

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

callmewednesday.livejournal.com

(( note, 11/21: I've been feeling under the weather, and thus slow with the tags, but I will get back to everyone's tags! Feel free to toss people at Wednesday. Today is, after all, his day.))

Folds of air shimmered as though an invisible curtain had billowed. Somehow, ineffably, they parted; and a well-dressed man of somewhat indeterminate age stepped into the Sorting Room, a blast of chill surrounding him but quickly dissipating.

He wasn't young, but he didn't look old-old. Certainly he didn't look anywhere near his actual age, and that was a thing he wasn't likely to expound upon, not right off the bat. His hair was fair, the ruddy blonde you see in some Scandinavians, now gone mostly to gray; his eyes, too, were gray, a gray that might put one in mind of flint, or of ice. He wore a pale suit of a clearly expensive make and cut, and he wore it with the ease that suggested this was not just an interview suit. On the other hand, he didn't seem averse to being interviewed, as the Hat declaimed the questions and he allowed the Dictaquill to write down his answers.

Mostly, he seemed amused.

"You'll want to know what to call me. I've had many names. You here can call me Wednesday. Mister Wednesday, if you want to be polite, and I find courtesy often advisable among new acquaintances."

( He's a god, he's a man, he's a ghost, he's a guru / You're one microscopic cog in his catastrophic plan / Designed and directed by his red right hand )

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

Current Location: Sorting Room
Current Music: Nick Cave, "Red Right Hand"

schizowarrior.livejournal.com

A notice appears around the school:

Feel stressed? Overworked? A little nuts?
Try YOGA!
Free class with resident therapist Molly Michon
Four o'clock, next to Greenhouse Three

( You don't HAVE to turn into a pretzel )

Current Mood: peaceful

schizowarrior.livejournal.com

Photo Sharing and Video Hosting at Photobucket

Beneath it is a button that says PUSH ME

((OOC: Credit for the video goes to Nny-mun. Has some foul language, so might not be worksafe ^_^))

Current Mood: accomplished

chaotic-miles.livejournal.com

Miles returned to Hogwarts like a tornado on speed. It was really, really good to be back here. At least in Hogwarts, he didn't have to pretend to be the slightly psychotic space admiral or the dutiful young Barrayaran officer. He could just be Miles, because nobody here cared about who he was supposed to be on any given day.

There was a little bounce in his limping stride as he made his way toward Slytherin, whistling a popular Barrayaran folk tune. He didn't have any idea what his immediate plans were, except they involved food, sending an owl to Susan, and possibly looking for something to blow up. However, that was the future. Now, he was ripe for being bothered, should anyone wish.

Current Mood: chipper
Current Location: Back at Hogwarts, baby!

grandmasteryoda.livejournal.com

((Backdated to the day after this.))

( Frog to Dax, warded and charmed to turn into a flower after she finishes reading it. )

Yoda didn't stress too much over his behavior at the party. In fact, with the revelation that he liked Dio and freeballing, he counted it as a pretty successful night. Besides, he's old. People are supposed to expect a certain degree of senility in their elders, aren't they?

So he was in a good mood as he took a walk outside to enjoy the morning air. Not that it was a very long walk. His return from death had done nothing for his joints. He sat on the stairs in front of Hogwarts's main entrance, enjoying the weather, gnawing on his cane, and looking like a frog sunning itself. It would have to have been a frog with abnormally large ears, though. And of course, he was humming that catchy tune that he had heard the band play the night before.

Current Mood: calm
Current Music: "Holy Diver," Dio

bantersucks.livejournal.com

It was a rather cool and dreary morning when Jaime walked back onto the grounds of Hogwarts, seemingly just walking out of the woods on foot. He was visibly tired, damp from the light drizzle that was falling, and fairly cranky. The rain was petering out, and the sun was starting to peek out from between the clouds, but that wasn't helping his poor state of mind. Which was pretty obvious by the way he was ranting at the scarab.

"How do you confuse Reach tech with a giant freaking spider?"

For the hell of it, he'd flown out to Edinburgh strictly to confirm something. There was a shop in the airport with United States maps, and not one had Gotham on it. El Paso was, though, which only contributed to the theory that this wasn't his Earth. Seriously, why else would a US map that included El Paso leave out Gotham? Damn. Then he'd been stopped by security asking for his passport, and had the scarab not caused a short in their equipment, he might not have escaped.

On top of that, the scarab had taken him on a detour which turned out to be a wild goose chase, which had turned a short evening trip into an all-nighter. "Oh, excuse me, a magically constructed giant spider. That just changes everything."

So he wasn't exactly at his best as he crossed through the boundary of the no-kill spell - "don't even think about trying to disrupt that, man," - passing the Quidditch pitch as he made his way across the open grass towards the castle, approaching a tree not far from the lake.

"Give me a break," he muttered, trudging through the damp ground and not paying any attention to his surroundings. "You just wanted to pick a fight." He stopped, listening to something, and then groaned, leaning against the tree. "What's wrong with that? 'Cause when you want to pick a fight you have to drag my butt along for it."

Jaime pressed his hands against his temples. "Collateral damage is a very bad thing. How many times do we have to go over this?"

He wasn't paying any attention to his surroundings or whether or not there was someone within earshot. Of course, with his luck, that meant he definitely had an audience.

Current Mood: aggravated

wings-and-claws.livejournal.com

Application for Cyclona, Freeway II: Confessions of a Trickbaby

(Note: This application contains vague spoilers. Also lots of cursing.)

The lean teenage girl in sweatpants and a (blood?) stained white tank-top looked distinctly ill at ease in the sorting room. She ducked her head and hunched her shoulders, long hair hiding most of her face, but not her angry eyes.

"Hey, where is this?"

When the quill lifted at the sound of her voice, she jerked back in shock, pulling a knife from her waistband with a low growl. Spotting the application, she looked it over suspiciously.

( Is this my new life? )

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

Current Mood: restless

dress-three.livejournal.com

Application for Jane Christie from Coupling

Jane paused before entering the Sorting Room, for the hair-makeup-are-my-boobs-even check she never admitted to doing. She was Jane, after all. She always looked perfect.

( Allow me to elucidate. )

"I have read the hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. ____JC________
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. _____JC______.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. ______ ~~Knickers? What are those?~~_____.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. ______JC_______"

schizowarrior.livejournal.com

Hi all,

This mono is utterly whooping my ass, physically and mentally, so I'm taking a few days off to sleep and all that--hopefully I'll be better enough to come back in a week or so. To everyone I've left hanging in threads, I'm sorry, but I promise I'll get back to you.

Daniel is working on his class syllabus
Harry D is plotting ways to get rid of the YED
Delirium is chasing butterflies
Silas is being the human guard-dog he always is
Henry is with Camilla, trying to adjust to his recently-regained memory
Devi is working on the scenery for the play
Catelyn is being of teh grateful for Ned and Robb
Merlin is in the library, being totally confused by all the Arthurian legends
Susan and Shaun are experimenting with incendiary pudding
Molly M is practicing her part in the play
Slartibartfast is collecting more lint for a second solar system

I'll be back, y'all.

Current Mood: sick
Current Music: Tarot - Pyre of Gods

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!

parlulilaloo.livejournal.com

(( Permission given by Pirates-muns! I'm taking Jack just after At World's End, like Norrington has been, so I'm warning ye now for some spoilers. Not much in the way of major ones in the post, but I'm not promising for the comments >>; Other than that... up, up and away! ))

( Popcorn. Native American-based, of course. Inventors of snowshoes. )

Current Mood: Oy?
Current Location: A rather nice hallway, I must admit.

world-builder.livejournal.com

((Open to everyone who signed up))

Last time Slartibartfast had done one of these, he'd carried everybody to Magrathea in an old converted van. This time, there were so many people going, he'd had his ship the Starship Bistromath delivered, and it now sat idling on the lawn. Irrational behavior wasn't going to get them to Magrathea in anything like enough time, however, so he'd refitted it with an Infinite Improbability Drive.

"All right, ah, everyone, I want you to, you know, to find your partners, and we'll get on the, the, you know, the ship. I do hope everyone dressed, uh, dressed sensibly."

schizowarrior.livejournal.com

( You are Cordially Invited to hear the wedding of Johnny C. and Devi D. )

c-macaulay.livejournal.com

( I became awake. / I thought I was sleeping, but I was only forming a structure with no ceiling, / With words like a runway, a cloud of a person drifting away. )

Current Mood: cold
Current Music: Great Lake Swimmers, "I Became Awake"

estebanmd.livejournal.com

Aloysius the house elf into Gryffindor dormitory to find Molly Michon. He had a delivery for her: a large apothecary bottle, just over half-full of some questionably murky concoction. The bottle was of sufficient size that he had opted to trundle it along on a little cart, being a house elf of no uncommon strength.

Tied to the bottle's neck was a little note, somewhat blotchy with ink and various substances. It read:

Miss Michon:

This bottle contains the prototype of the potion you had requested me to attempt. If it works as I hope it will, only specific aspects of the nervous system will be rejuvenated. I must caution you not to hope for much: there is a chance you will find yourself a child inhabiting an adult's body; there is also a chance you will find yourself afflicted with physical side effects having little to do with age. Rest assured that whatever eventuates will be but temporary. This means that if the potion does work as hoped, of course, you will need continual doses.

Please do keep me informed of the potion's effects. We will refine the recipe to suit, or we may scrap it altogether and start afresh if need be.

- S. Maturin.

Current Mood: accomplished
Current Location: potions lab

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Entries tagged with molly michon

[Open RP] Happy Valentine's Day, suckers!

Yet ANOTHER Christmas owl post!

Christmas owls from Arya

::Open RP : Holiday Party at the Little Green Apple::

Owls and Open RP: Nothing says Thanksgiving like Pharmaceutical Fruitcake

application for Mr. Wednesday (American Gods)

Sock and Open RP: Yoga FTW

A poster appears around the school

Open RP - The Triumphant Return of Miles

Apology frog, and open RP on the grounds

I'm not crazy, I just hear a voice in my head! (Closed RP for Molly Michon and Jaime)

Application for Cyclona, Freeway II: Confessions of a Trickbaby

Application for Jane Christie from Coupling

Small hiatus for DD

A Midsummer Night's Insanity: Rehearsal the First!

Well, well, well. Jack Sparrow, isn't it?

Semi-Open RP: Astronomy Field Trip

The WART of Wedding-y Goodness, as officiated by Molly Michon

mini-gryphon to Molly Michon, though the writer doesn't quite know her by that name

house elf delivery to Molly Michon, with a note.

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March 2022

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