hh_mirror

shifter-mordi.livejournal.com

Being unexpectedly transported to an unfamiliar castle wasn't the most inconvenient thing that had ever happened to Mordi, but it was going to put a crimp in his afternoon plans.

He looked like a businessman who'd been dressed by Batman. Mordi's fine Italian suit was offset by a flowing cape and binoculars clipped to his belt. "Hello? What's going on?" He looked around for the person who had teleported him, but didn't see anyone. Maybe they had the power of invisibility, along with teleportation.

Then he saw the paper on the table, and the feeling of confusion drained away to exasperation. "Paperwork," he sneered. Even on a good day, Mordi radiated smarminess and condescension. The sneer wasn't anything special. "You brought me here for paperwork?" The "you" being the Venerate Council, of course, but on closer examination there didn't seem to the multiple forms (all in triplicate) that were the hallmark of the Council's paperwork.

Knowing that if he blew off this form, there'd be even more down the line, he hunkered down and filled out the questions.

( Kidnapping is so pass�. )

((I have permission from Simon Tam's mun to use the same PB. Meta is encouraged.))

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

mello-n-choco.livejournal.com

OOC: No real god-modding here. We RPed it out in google docs before posting it, so Kuronue's part was written by Kuronue-mun.

There are times I wonder about the general stupidity of the populace in this school. Just what won't they do? A lot, if not all, know that any food laying about may possibly be hexed, and yet a great number of them will still try the food. Some put it down to chance, others, like that stupid fox, do it for entertainment. Would they still do it if they knew the food was hexed?

I wonder, though, just how I'm going to set this up. Obviously, it has to be in the Great Hall. That's where the most people will be exposed at any given time.

I'd need a confederate, though, someone else to mask my appearance in the Great Hall. Someone who wouldn't mind being the 'fall guy' should things go wrong. Near's out in that regard. He's no one's 'fall guy,' least of all mine. Matt's too into L and his games to be of much use. He is my best friend, but, honsetly, how much listening to him go on and on about how great L is can a guy be expected to stomach? Kurama's too much of a pain in the ass right now, mostly because I'm still avoiding him, trying to fix things in my own head. Kuronue though, Kuronue openly admitted he ate them for amusement until he found one interesting. He displayed an active interest in ruining other peoples' days. That at least, is something worth using to my advantage. It wouldn't be too unusual for Kuronue to be blamed for something like that, if it falls through, considering how much of an ass he is.
( In which a confederate is recruited )

OOC: Standard, sort of, chocolate plot, save the chocolates are accurately labeled as to their effect and duration (4 hours). Have fun with 'em ;)
ETA: Albel/Kuronue thread NSFW ;)

ticketyhare.livejournal.com

The large doors to the Sorting Room opened and in stumbled a frazzled hare in a waistcoat. He was stressed to find no dining table or tea anywhere. He couldn’t smell the delectables of pancakes and muffins, of cookies and sugar, of dates and pudding. He took out his pocket watch, staring at the hands. He moved in to sniff the glass face mutter about the hands staying at 13 o’clock. He stashed away the pocket watch, and surveyed the room around him.

In his own mind he could see arrows pointing towards a table. With each arrow he looked over, the signs adopted a more aggressive exclamation. Finding no other course but to follow the arrows’ advice, he hopped over to the desk that the largest of the arrows was pointing down too. Once by it he found the chair oddly large. He jumped up and his head was only just visible over the desk.

Then he spied the quill moving without a hand as direction…

( Allow me to elucidate. )
I have read the

hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. ____March Hare________
I have read the

hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. ____March Hare_______.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. _____March Hare______.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. ______March Hare_______

im-wacky-times.livejournal.com

So there's this T-Rex in the middle of the Sorting Room. He is looking around for something to stomp. "Where's the tiny house?" he demands. (He can totally talk.) "Where's the tiny woman? NOT THAT THERE IS ANY MISOGYNY IN THIS QUESTION. I am just used to stomping on a tiny woman and her gender is incidental! ANYWAY I WOULD LIKE TO STOMP ON SOMETHING NOW OKAY"

He speaks this way. The sentence has no definite ending, sometimes.

Some magic has reduced his size so that he can fit indoors. The T-Rex evinces no concern in this regard. His major concern is the lack of tiny woman, tiny house, and -

"ALSO WHERE IS THE TINY CAR?"

- tiny car.

"Okay SO I see this application here with a fancy quill pen. Look at these arms. My vestigial arms. Are you kidding me? No, really." The quill starts to record his words, and T-Rex calms down. "Oh, right, one of those! I think I remember seeing one of those at the mall! I did not stick around to learn about the latest up-and-coming technology." T-Rex hates the mall.

( Allow me to elucidate. )

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

raistlin-red.livejournal.com

Valentine’s Day. A day for lovers and a day to remind the single people that they are still, well, single.
And if you’re a lonely, sickly wizard, it’s just going to make you crankier. The decorations and general squishy, lovey mood had only served to darken Raistlin’s mood. Setting fire to the pink paper hearts and cupids would have been satisfying, but it would have only created more work for the house elves, and he didn’t want to create more work for the creatures that he actually liked.

He tried to avoid the festivities by reading in the library and hoping that when he left, all the nonsense would be over with. Because he certainly wasn't hiding or trying to avoid the entire holiday.

gourmetwolfe.livejournal.com

A large man, weighing a full seventh of a ton, bustled through the door, carrying a branch of a Phalaenopsis hybrid in a bud vase. He frowned as he realized that he was not in the room that he expected to be in. He turned, the door no longer behind him. He frowned, the corners of his mouth turning down slightly. His assistant, the man he was looking for, would classify the expression as a frenzy of expression. He turned again, facing in the room. "Confound it," he snarled. "Archie. Archie! Enough of this flumery. Confound it." He glared around the room impartially. His desk, his chair, the book he was reading. None of them were in this room, the room that should have been his office. "Fritz!" he bellowed.

"Confound it," he pronounced again, looking around the room. He found a chair that looked as though it would support his mass near a table. He crossed to it, his steps heavier now as he crossed the room. He set the vase on the table and pulled down his gray suit jacket. He ran his hands down the matching vest and adjusted his yellow and red abstractly patterned tie, resetting the yellow collar of his shirt before he sat himself, obviously uncomfortably, in the chair.

He drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair, looking around. He glanced at the table he'd set the orchid branch on and noticed the stack of papers. He drew them over, read over them quickly and tossed them back onto the table. "Buffoonery. I will not be subject to this nonsense. Archie!" He waited a beat or two and then called, "Fritz!" With a disgruntled sigh, he looked around the room again. There was nothing else to occupy him and idleness did not sit well with him, despite his chronic laziness. He picked up the papers again.

( Tommy rot. )

"I have read the

hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. _____NW_______
I have read the

hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. ____NW_______.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. _____NW______.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. ______NW_______"

grandmasteryoda.livejournal.com

There was something of a mess in the Great Hall.

On one of the long tables, Yoda sat, surrounded by felt squares, fake fur, pillow stuffing, buttons, needle, and thread. "Shoo," he told a house elf who tentatively tried to pick up some of the discarded scraps of felt. "Recycled into something else, that can be, yes." He was not exactly sure what yet, but there would doubtless be some use for small rectangular scraps of felt at some point in the future.

He picked up his needle and thread and finished sewing the final detail onto his masterpiece: a triangle of fake brown fur under something that could be described as a mouth if one was feeling generous. Satisfied, he sat back and giggled to himself, holding up the finished project.

Voila, a cuddly stuffed bantha!

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.

Current Mood: horny

not-so-notsil.livejournal.com

"Kolot? If you can hear me, I need you to check the left stabilizer again, it didn't feel right last run." The woman who appeared in the Sorting Room stretched and rubbed tiredly at her eyes, waiting for the angry chatter of her Ewok copilot demanding that she check it herself. It didn't come. "Kolot?" She blinked the bleariness from her eyes--she'd instructed Tonin, her astromech, to wake her after only two hours of sleep and she really could have used six more--and frowned. Whatever this place was, it wasn't her shuttle. There was no sign of Kolot or Tonin.

Oh hell. I've finally gone off the deep end.

She stroked the red braid that fell over one shoulder, though not hard. Her long red hair was a wig. Underneath, her hair was still mostly white-blond and short, though it had grown some in the past few weeks and her natural brown coloring could be seen close to her scalp. She chewed at her lower lip as she glanced around the room. Unfamiliar, primitive looking architecture. Despite her brain being filled almost to the breaking point with everything that Imperial Intelligence had deemed potentially useful, she couldn't match it to any of hundreds of worlds, cultures, and alien species. The stone floor under her boots felt real. The slight chill in the air felt real. The smells--dust, the slight tang of smoke--seemed to really be there. And the texture of the parchment under her fingers as she picked up the sheet on a nearby table certainly felt real enough.

Parchment? Seriously? After a lifetime of datapads and flimsi, it was almost comical. For lack of anything better to do, she skimmed the paper, brows creasing the further she read. Odd questions, and how did they expect her to answer them? There was no keyboard, no stylus. "Does anyone know how to work this thing?"

A feather floated up from the desk. She smiled weakly at it.

( All the furniture that made up the way I'd thought and felt about things all my life started coming loose in my head. Nowadays it slides around and breaks into pieces and I have no idea what parts of it are real and what aren't. It hurts, and a lot of the time I don't know who I am anymore. )

"I have read the

hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. GP LN KS
I have read the

hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. GP LN KS
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. GP LN KS
One day, marmalade will rule the world. GP LN KS"

((Permission has been granted by the two SW muns, one of whom is me!))

best-guitarist.livejournal.com

((Slightly NSFW comments that surprisingly don't involve any sex toy gift baskets in any way.))

( Toki's gift from Skwisgaar: )

All the other gifts are collectively from Toki, Skwisgaar, and their Shoggies. The cards included with each feature a photo on the front of the two Scandinavians and their adopted "children": Toki happily grinning in a padded Santa suit, Skwisgaar looking sullen in a reindeer suit (sans antlers, as only girl reindeer have them in winter, of course) with a bell collar, and they're both holding two Shoggies each, who are all wearing black Santa hats and waving with their pseudopods. It's set against a snowy backdrop, and their breath misting in the cold air indicates it was taken on location rather than being a(n even more) cheesy studio family portrait.

( To Nathan, Pickles, Murderface, and their butler: )
( Additional gifts specifically to Ofdensen and Nathan together: )
( Additional gifts specifically to Pickles: )
( Additional gifts specifically to Murderface: )
( To their Shoggies, from Toki and Skwisgaar: )
( To Sweden: )
( To Smaug: )
( To Elric: )
( To Jasper: )
( To the Baron: )
( To the raptor: )
( To A: )
( To Sunflora: )

tick-justice.livejournal.com

“SPOOON!”

The cry was followed by a deafening crash as a gigantic man in blue plowed headfirst into the solid flagstones of the Sorting Room, hard enough to leave sizeable cracks.

Yes, the Tick, Guardian of The City, the Mighty Blue Avenger, has come to Hogwarts. And landed on his head.

Woozily he sat up, clapping a hand to his forehead. “Ugh, gravity is a harsh mistress.”

He looked up, hearing a weird scratchy sound. The Tick stood and walked over to the podium that held the application as well as the impatiently hovering dictaquill.

“A test, eh?” he muttered. He started when the dictaquill wrote his answer. “Oh keen!”

( Like you were expecting something deep )

chaoswithawhip.livejournal.com

Where was this? It looked vaguely like The Halls of War, with the stone walls and flaming torches, but the feel was entirely wrong. The energies were completely unfamiliar, in fact, and Discord didn't like that one bit. She was supposed to cause confusion, not suffer from it! She wasn't sure how she'd gotten here (she didn't remember being invited to any decadent Olympian revels, and if it had been good enough to forget, she'd have at least a headache) but there was no reason to stick around. Time to teleport elsewhere.

...and it didn't work.

With a shriek of displeasure, she stalked around the room, taking in her surroundings. For some reason she'd neglected the desk with the scroll on it earlier. Scroll, pen, definitely some sort of enchantment... well, there was nothing else to do.

( You have GOT to be kidding me. )

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

yggdrasilgnawer.livejournal.com

((Apped with approval from relevant characters. Apologies to the mods for taking ages to post this up, RL's been getting in the way.

ETA: Sorry for the massive slow down on replying! Am currently in another country for boring work stuff. I also get to see Dethklok... twice. \m/ RL's very hectic right now, I'll get back to tagging regularly when I'm less frazzled.))

His purpose thus fulfilled, not even Nidhögg could resist the pull of the Sorting Room any longer. He made use of his forelimbs to gain purchase as he climbed the castle's steep walls, his great leathery wings fanning out, large enough to block out the returned sun and cast the castle into shadow. Perhaps due to some enchantment or other his claws and the sheer bulk of his weight did no harm to the stone.

He investigated several openings in the walls before eventually finding one large enough to permit him partial entry. Bowing his head through it, he continued to writhe until he was able to squeeze his forelimbs through as well, and paused there, peering at his surroundings. The rest of his body remained coiled about the castle outside.

The room, though large and spacious by human standards, felt cramped to the dragon, and an impatiently tapping quill was for the moment his only company there. Then a disembodied voice was addressing him...

( For aeons I have gnawed at the roots... )

"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."

ilikemyscars.livejournal.com

((I'm taking Claire from the end of s2e1, "Vows;" obviously there are spoilers for the last couple eps of s1, where we learned a bit about her history.))

Claire Saunders was running out of excuses.

Imprinted phobias be damned. She drove, crying and shaking and white-knuckling the SUV's steering wheel, as far as a tank of gas would take her in the general direction of "away from the Dollhouse." She finally stopped for the night at a rundown motel on the outskirts of Los Angeles.

Claire has no pop culture references, or she might have noticed the place's resemblance to a key set in "Psycho." Never having seen any Hitchcock, however, she opened the door of the motel, to find not Norman Bates, but the Hogwarts Sorting Room.

"What the..."

Maybe her flight from the Dollhouse was just a hallucination. She'd heard the Attic described as 'like a nightmare you can't wake up from;' surely the kind where you run and run and never get anywhere would qualify? Unconsciously Claire rubbed the scars on her forehead and cheeks, half expecting Alpha to leap out of the shadows with a blade.

She braced herself, put a hand against the writing desk to stabilize herself, and noticed the application. Curious despite herself, she picked up the quill.

( I like my scars. They bring out my eyes. )

"Hello? Is anyone there? I filled out your little form here. Just one question: Is any of this real?"

I have read the

hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. ___Dr._Saunders__
I have read the

hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. __Dr._Saunders__.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. _Ha._No_promises._
One day, ~~marmalade~~ Rossum will rule the world. ___Dr._Saunders__

ugly-old-hat.livejournal.com

There had been only the most obscure and private of warnings. There were beings who could have predicted the event, with runes or through oracular visions, or by whatever arcane powers they brought with them to Hogwarts -- whatever powers had not fallen prey to the castle's unpredictable field of interference. But how might they have prevented it? And how could they banish it, now that its inevitable advent had begun?

It rose in the sky, bloody and shrieking, three weeks short of All Hallows' Eve. Having risen, it radiated visible rays of unclean light, a light which carried no warmth and lent a cast of jaundice-yellow to the objects thus illumined. Going outdoors was like trying on a new outfit in a fluorescent-lit fitting room. Everything looked subtly wrong.

Mostly its shrieks heralded nothing. They were disconcerting, and raised the hackles on the backs of animals; they caused a mild dyspepsia in some who heard the shrieks, though by no means all. Indeed, some sentient creatures remained unaffected altogether.

But then there were the rarer moments when the shriek of the Baby Sun signified the beginning of something strange. Phenomena that could best be described as Fortean.

The first of these, beginning with the sun's shriek at noon of the day it first rose over Hogwarts, was a rash of spontaneous fires afflicting inanimate and nonsentient objects. This took place not only on the grounds, but also within the castle. Students might reach for their books only to find the book beginning to smolder, then abruptly flaring into a tower of flame. A plate of food in the Great Hall might go to greasy ashes before the first forkful could be taken. The house elves seemed to be spared, at least for now. Pets were safe. But no inanimate object, no matter how cherished or sacred or essential, was immune.

The Baby Sun giggled its loathsome amusement and lolled in the sickly sky. The whole of the grounds lay bathed in its bilious light. Once a student stepped off the grounds, the normal and benevolent sun of Earth was the only sun visible. Yet all of Hogwarts remained under the Baby Sun's mysterious sway, and none could say why or wherefore.

Perhaps some intrepid students might seek to find an answer.

(( OOC: As usual with these kinds of events, you can opt out. Your stuff doesn't need to get burnt; you don't need to get caught outdoors in a rain of fish or blood, or whatever subsequent phenomena take place between now and Halloween. If you want, your character can be unable to detect the Baby Sun or the weird quality of light at all. The mods will banish the Baby Sun through certain mysterious IC means once Halloween has come to pass. ))

znachit-v-morg.livejournal.com

It was with no small amount of confusion that Ivan found himself not in the foyer of his house in Moscow, but inside what seemed to be a rather large castle he had never stepped foot in before. His round, childish face scrunched up, he slowly turned around to stare at the door he had just come through. No, that was definitely not his front door. Strange, because he was certain that he had just come in from his garden.

Well, damn, he hoped he'd seen the last of those memory lapses after 1991.

When Ivan turned back around there was a wide, cheerful smile plastered on his face and a long metal water pipe clutched in both gloved hands. He surveyed the room quickly for anyone he could talk to about exactly where he was and how he’d gotten here, before he spotted a desk across the room. As it was the most distinguishing object he had seen so far, Ivan approached it with a few long strides.

( Allow me to elucidate. )

"I have read the

hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. __Ryssland__
I have read the

hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. __La Russie__.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. __Rossiya__.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. __Russia__"

bigredbernard.livejournal.com

Andy Bernard had come to Hogwarts with baggage. To house-elves he had entrusted his suitcase and even his messenger bag, but the banjo case he insisted on carrying himself. Its strap rumpled his suit jacket and diagonally bisected the neat front of his shirt (point-collar classic-fit dress shirt in glacier stripe, clashing with his Northwest-tartan wool tie, both by J. Crew).

"I'm comin' up so you better get this party started!"

How better to announce his arrival than with an a cappella cover of Pink's 2001 hit single?

( I'm, like, really freaked-out and confused. ... I haven't freaked out about a decision like this since I had to choose between Here Comes Treble, Treble in Paradise, the Trebleshooters, and the Finger Lakes Maestros. )

((Posted with the approval and encouragement of the Office muns))

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

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._______"

serrulata.livejournal.com

Realizing that it had been more than long enough since he explored the particular acoustics of the Great Hall, Kurama had grabbed up his guitar and made his way from the greenhouses to the many-purposed hall Not to be left behind, his imperialistic cat followed at his heels, sniffing at passers-by in a queenly manner. Finding a seat at one of the massive windows, he began to tune and re-tune the sadly neglected instrument, playing snatches of songs as they came to him, or as people passed.

omg-sunflora.livejournal.com

Well, that had been embarassing. Sunflora had been beaten! Twice! And once by a water...creature! (While Sunflora still thought Ursula was some sort of Water Pokemon, we know better.) She had the advantage and she still lost!

That was humiliating! And not right for a member of Wigglytuff's Guild to go through!

Clearly, there was one solution. More training!

So Sunflora wrapped her Pecha Scarf around her neck (wouldn't do to get poisoned, after all) and headed for the mangosteen grove, which was closer and warmer and didn't have centaurs that didn't appreciate being target practice.

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Entries tagged with sunflora

Application for Mordichai Black: Julie Kenner's Aphrodite series

The Open Chocolate Plot ((Open RP, Great Hall))

Application (The March Hare - Alice in Wonderland)

application for T-Rex (Dinosaur Comics)

Valentine's Day - not for the single. ((open rp))

Application for Nero Wolfe from the Nero Wolfe novels by Rex Stout

Arts and crafts with Yoda! (Open RP)

Open RP - Mistletoe Madness!

Application: Gara Petothel/Lara Notsil/Kirney Slane, "Star Wars" (Wraith Squadron novels)

God Jul from Toki and Skwisgaar and the Shoggies!

The Mighty Blue Avenger! ((application, open rp))

Application: Discord, the Xenaverse

[Application] Nidhögg, the Völuspá.

Application: Dr. Claire Saunders (a.k.a. "Whiskey"), "Dollhouse"

Eh-oh and uh-oh. (open RP / ongoing event)

Application for Ivan Braginski (Axis Powers Hetalia)

Andy Bernard (The Office, US)

Application for Charlie B. Barkin (All Dogs Go To Heaven)

Day cruising (Open RP, Great Hall)

[Open RP] Training in the Mangosteen Grove