[identity profile] chainedbyred.livejournal.com
ExpandAllow me to elucidate. )

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

((Yes, he is passing himself off as Edward for the moment. It wouldn't be Russel if he didn't.))
[identity profile] spinmybuzzer.livejournal.com
Halloween again! Twice in the same year, even! That was like a dream come true. And the best part was, they didn't have to chase down Halloween night or get nagged by Marzipan or listen to Strong Sad tell a really sad story or anything.

Well, there was the Horrible Painting in Strong Mad's closet to deal with but he didn't count.

Yep, it was the best Halloween ever, and in celebration, Homestar decided to listen to the radio. Because that wasn't overly contrived at all. Oh no. Funny thing about evil, mind-changing broadcasts, though: Homestar was totally immune. Completely. And totally. And just to prove how completely and totally immune he was to turning evil, he was going stand in the hall. Completely innocuous. Nothing happening here at all. Totally not-evil Homestar, standing not-suspiciously at all and whistling not-innocently.

I mean innocently. Totally innocent. He wasn't waiting for someone to come by so he could trip them. Why would you think that? What kind of a terrible person are you?

((And yes, Homestar will be tripping anyone who walks by.))
[identity profile] stylish-nebulon.livejournal.com
Nebulon had been tipped off. His nemesis had finally deciphered his cryptic hints about The Milk Chocolate, and had gone to Hershey, taking with her two innocent bystanders. Now Nebulon had to stop her from uncovering the many sweet secrets to be found at the chocolate factory, lest she take her Candyland victory way past board game territory and into the real world.

Nebulon never learned to Apparate. He didn't need to learn that. He could travel through space, wibbling and blibbling unconcerned through zero gravity and zero atmosphere. It was just what he did. There were only two things about space he didn't like. First, in space, no one could hear you sing. Second, unless you got near an asteroid or something, there was nothing to tag. No one in space could see the proud blazon of NEB-1. He might go into graffiti withdrawal!

His carefree blibbling abilities kept his re-entry into Earth's atmosphere gentle and light. (A hot meteoric streak across the sky might have had style. Nebulon, much to his dismay, only had the kind of style that no one likes.) He touched down in Hershey long before Dax and her henchmen, and proceeded to scrape together a disguise. A trench coat. A big hat. He couldn't really do anything about his height, so he got a motorised wheelchair in which to blibble along. He tried to disguise his eyestalks as a bobble-antenna headband, by putting on a plain green headband to match it, though the big hat then covered the headband. The finishing touch was a huge false black mustache. It did not have curlicues at the end, as Nebulon did not wish to appear evil!

Thus equipped, many cans of spray paint strapped to his green body under the coat, he began a concerted campaign of Purposeful Lurking. Soon Dax would show up. Nebulon would be ready. He would fend her off, and he would do it with style.
[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] tartan-pussy.livejournal.com
In the Recreation Center, there is an owlery, plenty of board games- like Scrabble, Candyland, Monopoly, Yahtzee, Hungry Hungry Hippos, and Operation,- an oxygen bar, a seperate, waterproof, padded room for Jenga, lots of beanbag chairs, inflatable furniture, pinatas, a jukebox (it starts if you bang on the side of it), a juice bar, a regular bar, and a velvet conversation pit*. Everyone is invited!

*Google it if you must.
[identity profile] ugly-old-hat.livejournal.com
One bright Hogwarts morning, fliers with small, numbered Hat-shaped plastic tokens are sent out to a select group of students via house elf. “Your presence is required at an Awards Ceremony in the Great Hall tonight,” the flier states. “Attendance is mandatory. Formal dress is required. Prizes will be given.”

And so, at the appointed time, the students are ushered into the Great Hall. It has been lavishly decorated for the occasion: streamers, flowers, a champagne fountain, the works. At the front of the hall sits the Sorting Hat, likewise decorated in a wreath of flowers and lots of bling. It sits imperiously and waits until everyone has taken a seat and the beautifully decorated doors have been closed and barred.

“My dear students,” it begins, “we are gathered here today for a wonderful ceremony. A ceremony of magic and beauty, and it is my privilege to be here with you. Now, before you can get your wonderful awards--” here one of the Hat's folds dips in what might have been a wink on something with a face--”are you all carrying your special prize tokens?” It waits for a little longer while the attending house elves (all carrying bouquets of multicolored flowers) check to ensure that yes, everyone in the room has one on their person. “Wonderful! By the power vested in me by the Board of Education, I now pronounce you married!”

Before the shock and outrage can set in, the Hat rushes into the next part of its speech. “No use getting upset, it's legal now! This place has become a haven for loose morals, and you're helping to fix that! Don't worry about your belongings, you won't have to spend a second sweating and becoming undesirable for your new spouses! While you've been here, the house elves have moved your sundries out to your new homes for you, isn't that nice of them? They've even been allowed to charm your new homes so that you can't remove your objects from them! Let's hear it for the house elves!” It doesn't pause for applause. “Now, I'll let you happy newlyweds get to the business of consummating your new relationships in the name of duck waffles procreation. Your tokens are numbered with your new addresses, and a map has been provided at the door. Don't try to run, the ushers have been provided with cattle prods and given the permission to use them.” The Hat waves a strap at one terrified-looking bouquet-holding elf near the front, who pulls a cattle prod out of the flowers and waves it around. “And now, onward! Onward to happy families! Onward to El Mundo Del Sombrero!

The doors open. The armed house elves swarm, herding the students to a tent village on Hogwarts grounds. Resistance is futile.

Once arriving at the tent whose number matches the number on their token, each student will meet his or her new spouse(s) ...



((The tents in El Mundo Del Sombrero are wizarding tents that appear to be one-bedroom houses complete with bathrooms, kitchens, living rooms, etc. inside. Rearranging and addition of objects is allowed, removal of objects for the purposes of moving elsewhere or returning to the castle is not due to the charm on the tents. Players are allowed to NPC the house elves shocking their own characters if an escape attempt is made. Note that characters will not be barred from returning to the castle later to do other things, e.g., use the library; they just can't move back into the castle. Congratulations on your nuptials.

Feel free to RP in this post, or to post your own separate posts that take place within the dubious sanctuary of your brand-new tent!))
[identity profile] stylish-nebulon.livejournal.com
Nebulon was so thrilled! He had actually attended a party! And no one jeered at him or forced him to leave! Since this was unprecedented in his miserable existence, he didn't quite know how to handle it, and left of his own accord. His blibbling joy could not be contained, however. He had to spill it all over the airwaves!

He still didn't have the hang of communicating with these Earth creatures. So a Speak-and-Spell did the work for him, uttering the words of the dedications and song titles...


Expandstylin' tunes )
[identity profile] daxtastic.livejournal.com
"Hello, all! If you could please take a moment to fill out a name tag-" Dax gestured to a neatly organized table, laden with Sharpies and stick-on tags "-we can get started! Please include your name, species, and a fun fact about your biochemistry!" The eager professor’s own tag proudly displayed 'Jadzia Dax, Trill, Has been male four times.'

ExpandI never noticed/How lovely were the aliens/Lovely were the aliens/I never noticed/ Lovely were the aliens/Lovely were the aliens )

((Open RP. Go forth and mingle, aliens/party crashers of Hogwarts!))
[identity profile] lovesmanthongs.livejournal.com
It was a glorious day for Khazakstan. Having not been excuted because his movie had not done badly at the American 'office of boxing', Borat Sagdiyev had quickly decided which fine country to return to next. The proud land of Scott Land. Though Borat still wasn't sure who this Scott was, and why he got a whole country named after him, his last visit had proved that there were many nice woman here - although none could ever match up to Pamela, of course.

Also, the person he'd tried to buy the ticket off had no idea where "Aryan Land" was, so "Scott Land" it had to be. So much for visiting Ireland.

Proudly clad in nothing but his eye-blindingly yellow man-bikini and white sneakers, Borat strode into the hallway, coming face to face with a moving painting. He took this strange phenomena completely in stride. "Ah, hello, I am Borat!" He greeted, grinning enthusiastically, his heavy accent twisting his words. "I come from Khazakstan. I have seen the photo-pictures of women like you. You are very nice! How much?"

The woman in the painting abruptly ran away.

Far from disheartened, Borat moved to the suit of armor a few feet away. "My name is Borat!" He greeted the suit of armor by kissing it on both cheeks of the helmet. "Do you know where I can find womens? Perhaps you are a woman inside, yes? That is what I always tell my brother - he has the retard-ation, and cannot get any vah-jin! Haha!"

Anybody passing by would be treated to the sight of Borat trying to somehow look inside the suit of armor just to see if it was secretly a woman.

"How can I make with the sexy times if you will not remove this full-body metal con-dom?" Borat complained loudly for anybody to hear. Would nobody help him in his quest for sexy times?
[identity profile] insane-mil-cmdr.livejournal.com
A corona of orange light burst into being in the Sorting Room, dilated and disappeared, leaving behind a man dressed all in black. His head was back, eyes closed, fists clenched at his sides, and a small red robot rolled back and forth on the floor beside him, unnoticed.

At length Bialar Crais lowered his head and opened his eyes, and reached behind him to feel the back of his neck. His face constricted in intense pain and grief for a moment, and then he forced it back into an impassive mask. Looking down at himself, he scowled in disgust and yanked off his black leather gloves, then his leather duster with armored breastplate, and dropped them into a chair beside a writing desk, leaving him in black uniform slacks, boots and a long-sleeved black thermal shirt. After a moment's thought he added a leather cap from a cargo pocket on his thigh to the pile, pulled a pulse pistol from its holster and held it above the pile, then pulled his hand back and reholstered it.

He walked around the room, the little droid rolling in the opposite direction, examining the walls. "MALDIS! Show yourself!" he bellowed. When no answer came, he added, "I will not give you what you want, Maldis! I have no anger left for you to feed upon."

The little robot scaled the leg of the desk and beeped to call the man's attention to a moving quill. The quill had recorded the entire speech, including the electronic beep. Puzzled, he pulled a copy of the application form from the stack and began answering the questions aloud.
ExpandThis time, Scorpius, I am not going quietly. )
"I have read the [livejournal.com profile] hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG.__BC__
I have read the [livejournal.com profile] hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them.__BC_.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. __BC__.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. _as long as it's not Scorpius_BC__"

((Crais' arrival has been approved by Chiana-mun and Aeryn-mun - thanks guys!))
[identity profile] stylish-nebulon.livejournal.com
A strange green creature blibbles into the Sorting Room. From the wobble in his blibble it's plain to see he fancies himself quite stylish. In truth, there is a sad and timeless legend beyond his complete lack of style. The morning that the Great Spirit handed out style, Nebulon slept in all day, because he'd stayed up all night watching a "Charles in Charge" marathon.

He knows that many Free Country USA denizens have flocked to Hogwarts, and he's desperate to reacquaint himself with them. He would also like to acquaint his eyestalks with their fleshy bits. His stubby green tail wags in gleeful anticipation.

His lack of visible arms does not prevent him from filling out the application ...

ExpandFreak out in a moonage daydream, oh, yeah! )

Puffed up with pride in his immensely logical and reasonable answers, he awaits judgement!

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

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