[identity profile] the-lady-door.livejournal.com
She woke to the smell of some vaguely rancid chemical flavoring, and the textures of grit and grease.

Door looked down at her ruined dress, and wondered just where she was, and how long she'd been there. She remembered being acting prefect for Hufflepuff, but it got a bit hazy after that. There were... were those oversized popcorn kernels surrounding her? That seemed vaguely familiar as well. Distressed, she fled the room.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"
[identity profile] tomowildcat.livejournal.com
Later on, it would come as no surprise to anyone that Tomo had started the fight.

The entire thing started out innocently enough, of course. It was a chilly but beautiful afternoon at Hogwarts; it had snowed early in the morning, and all around there was a new layer of freshly-fallen snow. Now the clouds were parting and the sun was starting to come out. The conditions were perfect for anyone who wanted to play in the snow.

Or, if you were Tomo, ambushing the unwary. Like Jaime, for example, who was headed towards the courtyard outside the Great Hall. He was distracted, as usual, and had yet to notice that Tomo was lying in wait with a small stockpile of snowballs.

Then he came into range, and Tomo let fly the first volley with a "GOTCHA!"

...unfortunately, her aim was a bit off.

Which meant that the next person who stepped out into the cold would have a snowball flying at their head.

((Open RP to anybody who wants to get in on the fight - or RP snow hijinks elsewhere and comment on the stupid from afar. Feel free to dodge and especially to retaliate. Go crazy! Jump in WHEREVER YOU WANT! It's up to you if you get hit by a stray snow missile!

This is also a snow mingle post for those who are going to avoid the snow-pelting crazies. Just start a new thread if you feel the urge.))

((OOC ETA: Right now, it appears to be Tomo and Richard with Ed helping against everybody else - ICly, Richard is keeping out of sight, though.))
[identity profile] c-macaulay.livejournal.com
Rather a lot of people had come to the Winters' wedding. (Let's pretend, shall we, that Camilla actually sent out thank-you notes to those people who brought gifts? She surely would not have neglected it, lest Nana roll over in her grave; she should not be blamed for the laxity of her mun.) Believe it or not, most of them had been invited because Camilla liked them, or else because she felt obliged to them for one reason or another. As such, most of them qualified to be remembered at holiday time.

The following people were sent poinsettias with accompanying tasteful nonsectarian holiday cards:

Ned and Catelyn Stark
Simkin
John Preston
Jezz Jaelre
Dale Smither (because she was married to Charles, however briefly)
Jadzia Dax (because she’s Henry’s … friend? Fellow researcher? Camilla still isn’t sure.)
Chance Silvey (cf. Dax)
Stephen Maturin
Merlin
Deety Long
Bella Swan
Ron Weasley
Blair Waldorf
Dean Winchester
Stephanie Brown (whose poinsettia was accompanied by soap.)



Then there were people who merited a gift of some greater significance:


ExpandCharles Macaulay )
ExpandFrancis Abernathy )
ExpandRichard Papen )
ExpandSelvetarm )
ExpandShaun and Liz )
ExpandS.A.R.A.H. )
ExpandSusan Sto Helit )
ExpandWillow Rosenberg )
ExpandJohn Ryder )
ExpandSilas )
ExpandYoda )
[identity profile] dont-exacerbate.livejournal.com
ExpandWith friends like these... )

((Send in anything and everything, guys--have at it. After all, it's not just birthday humiliation, it's a WART, dammit XD))
[identity profile] schizowarrior.livejournal.com
((Backdated to Thanksgiving Day))

Expandto Geoffrey Tennant )

Expandto Nny and Devi )

Expandto Arya Stark )

Expandto Cyclona )

Expandto Doctor Maturin )

Expandto Jaime Reyes )

Expandto Shaun Riley )

Expandto Susan Sto Helit )

Expandto 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.
[identity profile] c-macaulay.livejournal.com
ExpandDon't regret our ties / This endless flow / You take these fears / When you say they go / Your touch honey-smooth / Your shining calm / So what if blood's spilt / You're my light you're my balm )


(( OOC: There are two parts to this. One is the wedding bit itself, which will be played out by the principals in its own thread, which Camilla's account has already posted below.

The other is the reception/dinner afterward, and for that, feel free to start your own threads here. As S.A.R.A.H. decided, there isn't any assigned seating. Instead, there will be lots of round tables at which people can choose to seat themselves, eight chairs per table -- think of the more disorganized sort of awards banquet and you'll probably have a good idea. The house elves will bring people whatever kind of meal they prefer, with special instructions to bring Yoda a plate of nice twigs. Rather than one large cake there are tiered single-serving cakes in a variety of flavors, again at S.A.R.A.H.'s brilliant suggestion. [GJ, have we told you lately that we love you?]

Finally, characters who have not been invited can crash the reception. Just think of some reasonable explanation for why they've heard there's a wedding going on -- unless they're Homestar, who just sort of turns up places. ))
[identity profile] 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

ExpandA 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:

Expandowl to Silas )

Expandowl to Susan Sto Helit )

Expandowl to Francis Abernathy )

Expandowl to Richard Papen )

Expandtiny animated stuffed gryphon to Charles Macaulay )
[identity profile] usethepoker.livejournal.com
Susan and Shaun had been cobbling together a guidebook to Hogwarts when the WART broadcasted. The idea was to put together something that would help ease Liz’s transition, whenever she arrived; both of them knew that Liz was definitely not the sort of person who would take some of the weird shit here easily.

“Well, theme music,” Shaun said, looking up. Composition was not his strong point--like many people who are erudite enough in speech, he had a hard time when it came to setting it down on paper, and the carpet around his chair was littered with discarded balls of crumpled parchment. “That’s a bit of all right.”

Susan, who didn’t recognize a single song, nevertheless nodded. “I still don’t fully understand this ‘Halloween’ thing,” she said. Though she’d been at Hogwarts last Halloween, she couldn’t remember it now, and thus the point and significance of the holiday were lost on her. Shaun had tried to explain it, but why something that was more or less the Day of the Dead should inspire people to dress up and get drunk, she didn’t know. Then again, in her experience quite a lot of people would use almost anything as an excuse to dress up and get drunk, so…

Shaun didn’t get a chance to try to explain again. Something odd was going on in his head--something he’d never really felt before, or at least not in this magnitude. The adrenaline-fueled desperation he’d experienced when they’d been besieged in the Winchester slammed back full-force, but this time the fear had been replaced with…something else. Memory of him threatening to gut David with a broken bottle if the man came any nearer his dying mum overtook him--the sheer rage he’d felt in that moment, only now it was amplified tenfold. Shaun was not a violent man--at least, not if you weren’t a zombie--but something in him suddenly wanted to be.

He looked at Susan, who had gone very still herself. A change seemed to ripple over her features--her already pale skin whitened to near transparency, her hair coiling down into something limp and passive, and when she looked up at him her eyes would have scared the life out of him, if he hadn’t been so changed already himself.

They were black--solid black, unbroken save for a tiny, remote pinprick of arctic blue at the center. She smiled, and her teeth seemed…sharper, somehow; sharper, and a good deal more sinister than any smile Shaun had ever seen on her.

They looked at one another. Both suddenly had an inexplicable urge to go do something very unpleasant to someone else, but the two of them were allies--there was an unspoken understanding that they’d do nothing awful to one another.

…LET’S PLAY, Susan said, and the Voice had taken on strange harmonics it had never before held--there was a note of malevolence beneath it, a gleeful, vicious sort of malice that promised all sorts of unpleasant things. She paused. AND THEN LET’S GET PIE.

Shaun picked up his bat, flipping it from hand to hand. He returned her rather disturbing smile. “Play, then pie,” he said. “Gotcha. Shall we?”

They didn’t even bother to use the door--Susan just grabbed his hand as she went straight through the wall, taking him along with her. Neither one knew where they were going, or what they would do when they got there, but both were in silent agreement as to the type and amount of damage they wanted to do along the way. Odd thoughts of dominance were firing through Susan’s brain--the need to overpower, to crush, to overwhelm. Shaun, whose mindset was echoing that, was more than willing to help--they’d get rid of any and all zombies once and for all, intelligent or not.

And then there would be pie. Because dude, every evil would-be villain needs pie, dammit.

((NWS warning: Stephen and Susan's thread eventually devolves into attempted murder, and thence into smut. Yeah, we don't really know, either :P))
[identity profile] 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


ExpandYou don't HAVE to turn into a pretzel )
[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] charlesofdensen.livejournal.com
Owls were sent to everyone in the village, warded to electrocute any house elf.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I've done some research and to avoid future unwanted marriages and annul current ones, the only conclusion I keep coming back to is.....food warfare against the Sorting Hat.

Gather at the Hat House at 10:00 sharp, and bring any and all food items you can spare.

Charles Ofdensen

And he was also waiting there, along with the Exile and Arthur (who want out) and Ed (who's tagging along).
[identity profile] 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.
[identity profile] 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."
[identity profile] estebanmd.livejournal.com
Mr Riley:

I should like to make amends for our last conversation and awkward parting. It would seem there have been a few misunderstandings, at least some of which have since been righted. Perhaps we might discuss the matter over a drink, if you have not quite forsworn the battle against evil clowns.

- S. Maturin.
[identity profile] redonme.livejournal.com
Shaun, fresh off his WART debut, headed back to his room grinning. He'd always wanted to be a DJ, and had wondered more than once how he'd wound up an appliance salesman instead. It had been a good laugh, getting to pretend he'd actually got his dream job for a night.

He was absolutely exhausted, too--he'd spent much of the day getting drunk and watching kung fu with Susan, who had also kicked his ass in an impromptu poker/cricket bat face-off with a straw dummy. She'd told him she'd impaled someone with the poker, and now he reeeaaallly believed her.

He made it into Hufflepuff without incident, only to find a man he'd never seen before standing outside the door of his dorm room, holding his TV. He'd loaned the TV to Susan, so she could introduce some friend of hers to the joys of kung fu, and he hadn't expected to get it back right away. He certainly hadn't expected anyone but Susan to return it.

"Er...can I help you?" he asked. There was something rather creepy about the man's pale eyes, and Shaun found himself wondering if looters ever wandered through Hogwarts. The eyes were almost like zombie eyes, but whoever this guy was, he was definitely alive. Huh.

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