hh_mirror

thefuturemrpond.livejournal.com

When exactly meeting up for drinks with the Master had become a regular thing, Rory wasn't sure. But it helped, having one other person around who understood things. Even if that one person was a megalomaniacal alien.

They were in the Ravenclaw bar, because the drinks in Ravenclaw had substantially less chance of causing anything embarrassing to happen, like getting into fights or long involved discussions of root vegetables. And Rory was experimenting with the iSieve. From the device, a little voice proclaimed "Prisoner Zero will vacate the human residence..."

theregothedrums.livejournal.com

The Master found it harder than expected to compose his note to the Doctor.... the Doctor as he had been so long ago. He could barely recall how it was between them, it was so long ago.

But finally, he produced a letter in an elegant hand.

My dear Doctor,

As we discussed, there is an establishment in this school suitable for a gentleman's relaxation. The enclosed map will direct you there, and no where else. Shall we meet for drinks at seven?

With a sharp pang, he signed his name in Gallifreyan.

science-advice.livejournal.com

A blue box gradually appeared, harked by its eerie, otherworldly klaxon… albeit one that wasn’t working as smoothly as it should have, by the sound of it. It flickered as if reluctant to solidify into existence, and the settled on visibility with a violent blink. Even it’s sound shut off rapidly, and there was an ominous bang from the inside. A moment after the door opened and a man exited, bringing with him a puff of smoke. He coughed discreetly and brushed his plum velvet coat and black cape with a brilliant purple satin lining somewhat indignantly, before looking around himself.

“Well, it’s not where I left at least… but where is it then…” he muttered to himself.

It looked like Earth, possibly even England, though not the time period he’d just left (and that was the first time in a while, he had to be getting better at this fixing business)… and yet not quite right. He gave a wide berth to a particularly unpleasant looking hat, and instead went to inspect a table, which seemed to be empty, but perhaps-- the Doctor’s eyebrows rose as a piece of paper and a quill shimmered into existence on the table. Now this was certainly not technology from any of humanity’s older periods. And a school of magic? Probably another embarrassing ploy from the Master, he really had to stop dabbling with this sort of thing. But for now, he might as well go with it.

( Now what is this nonsense? )

braveexplorer.livejournal.com

Coraline was ever so slightly lost.

This didn't worry her as much as it might have. The castle had a tendency to move bits of itself around when she wasn't looking, and she was used to it by now. And she'd learned a spell that made her wand point towards the north, so she could tell she was moving more or less the right way.

She had been walking for a while, though, and no one else seemed to be around. So when she heard sounds coming from one of the classrooms as she passed, she opened the door a little and cautiously peeked inside.

glamhologram.livejournal.com

Jem was never happy without a cause. Weirdly enough, in the wizarding world there were no fashion moguls ready to throw charity galas on their yachts, or if there were, they hadn't been clamoring for an appearance by Jem as the headliner. Nor were there any mysterious millionaires itching to hold a contest for the best music video, with a mansion as first prize (perfect for housing a lot of orphans). Why didn't life at Hogwarts match up to Jerrica Benton's ordinary life? Pumpkin tarts and Alohomora! had their interesting points, but without some cause to champion, Jerrica/Jem had begun to slip into the proverbial doldrums.

Her house-elf backing band kept asking whether she wanted anything. A mopey Jem couldn't possibly be right. She needed to get back to her bubbly, effervescent self. Without Rio or her girls to cheer her up, what could she do?

The breakthrough came when one of the elves offered to bring her a book from the library. Suddenly, Jem remembered.

There are people in the world who don't know how to read!

Some of them might even be at Hogwarts?

Literacy was a favorite cause of Jem's. She'd already held a carnival in Philadelphia to promote adult reading, and [SPOILER ALERT FOR '80s CARTOON] even convinced one of the Misfits to give reading a try!

But how to champion literacy in a place without carnivals, Philadelphia, or the Misfits?

In the end, Jem wound up in the corridor outside the Great Hall, sitting at a table draped in all the colors of the eight Hogwarts Houses, with a big stack of See Spot Run-style primers, and a huge sparkling banner hung overhead:

Reading is Rad!

theregothedrums.livejournal.com

The Master had been in many prisons in his lives, of varying security and comfort. They tended to be more temporary arrangements than his would-be captors anticipated. The idea of a 'detention' therefore seemed more like an entertaining novelty than an ominous prospect.

The house elf that had apparently been sent to fetch him seemed a bit anxious, which was promising; he wasn't especially kind to house elves (at least, when the Doctor wasn't around to see) so whoever 'Baron Vladimir Harkonnen' was, the house elves were more scared of his wrath than being a test subject for a newly-learned hex or the latest setting on the Master's electrostatic manipulator.

He largely ignored the creature this time, however, following it with a carefully studied air of ennui as he took mental note of the particular corridors they traveled to reach the Muggle Studies office.

"I suppose you'd better announce me," he told the house elf with a malicious grin.

theregothedrums.livejournal.com

Oh, you humans. So much fuss over a basic feature of your own planet's orbit. A simple little solstice and everyone has a gaudy holiday full of enormous meals, family drama, and decorations everywhere.

Pssst: Spring will come even if you don't throw endless parties. And that won't be a gift from some magical sky fairy either.

I found a fun tradition, though. Somewhere in the school I've hidden a life-size caganer. It's got a few enchantments that might make it easier to find.

There might be a prize involved.

is-not-a-droid.livejournal.com

((Grievous is apped with permission from the active Star Wars muns. As Grievous has ended up with 2 backgrounds, an original one and a retconned one, I should state that this is the Clone Wars CGI series Grievous, and will be adhering to the retconned background info given in this series. I have tried not to be spoilery about the series in his app, but, some amount of spoileryness is liable to come up in comments. Timeline-wise, he is being taken from the current point of the Clone Wars series.))

The new arrival said nothing, standing stark still as he found himself in the Sorting Room. After a few seconds, he glanced about, a low, gravelly growl emanating from somewhere within a body which formed an abrupt and jarring contrast to the mostly-organic sound it emitted. As he wore nothing but a dull greenish-grey cape, most of this body was visible, and aside from his eyes, it appeared to be robotic. The next sound was the metallic clatter of clawed digitgrade feet upon the stones of the Sorting Room floor as General Grievous began to pace, robotic hands clasped behind his hunched back. Aside from the cape, the only other accoutrement worn by the cyborg were four tubes secured to his waist, which occasionally clattered against the white plating of his thighs. As he paced, his yellow lizard-like eyes surveyed his surroundings from behind his elongated skull-like face plate- after a moment, they landed upon the application.

( Read more... )

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

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.

tenofgallifrey.livejournal.com

"Master...What are you doing to our room?"

Current Location: i'm sorry, my brain =pfft. Better posts ahead!

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!)________"

Current Music: Frank Sinatra, “I Could Make You Care”

theregothedrums.livejournal.com

It wasn't a matter of distress or inner conflict. His current situation needed to be handled with finesse, of course, but if it was too easy he'd know better than to trust it. Still, it was nice to take a break from all that earnestness for a drink or two and, of all things, a hot fudge sundae. Because sometimes a hot fudge sundae is just what you need.

theregothedrums.livejournal.com

It's been a while, all you wayward children of Hogwarts. I think it's time for a little more... music.

( Uh-oh, he sounds happy. )

((ETA: Eventual NSFW in the Ten/Master thread))

theregothedrums.livejournal.com

He should be happy. Should be over the moon, as it were. But of course their conversation had taken an uncomfortable turn, and the Doctor had breezed off. So very typical of him.

But he wasn't going to let that keep him from doing the things he wanted to do. And as it was fairly early in the morning, that was helping himself to coffee and danishes that he had personally seen the house elves set out

[ETA: NSFW!]

tenofgallifrey.livejournal.com

[Wakes up in a very strange room, even by his standards. Popcorn everywhere. He blinks and runs a hand through his hair, wondering how on Earth he wound up here and realizes his hair is very... slick. In fact so is the rest of him. It smells like.. He sniffs and then puts a finger in his mouth. Butter, He's absolutely covered in butter. Interesting.
The Doctor gets to his feet and takes a good look around the room. His stomach growls, empty as it's ever bveeen but for some reason it seems like a good idea not to eat anything in here. Absently licking his fingers again he wades through the mess and for the door.]

Hullo?

Current Mood: confused

vislor-turlough.livejournal.com

Having gotten nowhere with his visions, Turlough had decided to consult a library. He supposed it would be related to Divination, but he didn't want to bother Kusuriyuri yet, and he definitely didn't want to bother the Doctor if it turned out to be the-well, his-future.

Alas, he would never make it to the library, for there was someone with...plans for him.

[[WARNING: Torture]]

a-bit-put-upon.livejournal.com

Days, maybe, but as far as the Doctor was concerned, it could have been hours for all the attention he paid his immediate surroundings. His first goal, of course, had been to get outside as quickly as possible; the faintly Escheresque quality of the castle's interiors were disconcerting at best, and reminiscent of muddled times alongside. The grounds and surrounding lands, though still unfamiliar, were far more welcoming to his senses.

Even if the populace wasn't.

Nothing like pursuit by an impressive assortment of intriguing creatures to get the hearts in shape and the mind sorted out, apparently. Perhaps he'd go back and make peace with them later.

Having escaped barely unscathed and with a distressing handful of tearing and stains on his coat, the Doctor decided that perhaps exploring the castle itself would be a good idea after all. After being sidetracked frequently by a number of talking paintings (some indignant, of course, upon having their basis of existence challenged and their frames prodded in search of transmission devices) and strange visions (also indignant upon being told to return to their proper energy planes, because, of course, ghosts don't exist), he'd managed to acquire a room of his own somehow, where his coat rested until he could learn to mend it himself, and his hat kept it company. He then got himself more or less directed to the library, where he spent what most humans would consider an embarrassing amount of time simply getting lost among the rows. He didn't know whether to be relieved or disappointed to find no direct references to his presence or influence in the immediately available historical documents, though this Merlin fellow sounded somewhat familiar. Better to pursue that concept later on, though.

With better footing after that, despite how few familiar subjects he could find amidst the archives, the Doctor set to work educating himself about his surroundings. It wouldn't be fair, would it, to condemn the place for the intentions of a few denizens, and wouldn't it be his luck to land here in some other time zone by courtesy of the TARDIS? Earth itself had been a prison for a time, after all, and he loved it no less than he had before his sentence.

And so it was that now, some several days after his release, the Doctor could be found at a massive reading table, surrounded by codices of theory, numerology, defence, herbal maintenance and utility, potions and the like, nearly hidden behind the stacks with his nose buried in Hogwarts, A History. He'd decided several times over to stop and seek out a cup of tea, but he could never tear himself away from a good story.

thefuturemrpond.livejournal.com

Rory stopped by the popcorn room, sometimes. Just out of curiosity. There were a couple of - versions? regenerations - of the Doctor listed on the plaque, and, alarmingly, a Dalek, which he was keeping an eye on.

He'd noticed 'Ninth Doctor' appearing on the list, not long ago, and 'Tenth Doctor' disappearing, and remembering some of his awkward conversations with the Master, he'd thought that could get interesting...

And now 'Tenth Doctor' was back on the plaque.

Rory suddenly had a very bad feeling.

glamhologram.livejournal.com

In the Sorting Room, a starburst of magenta light flashed and was gone. At the center of the afterglow stood a young woman with big pink '80s hair, wearing a pink wrap dress belted with silver beaded fringe. Her matching pink heels were alarmingly high, yet she could do anything in them, it seemed. This was adequately demonstrated as she ran back and forth between the Sorting Room's walls, alternately throwing herself against the walls and pounding against them. Throughout this display, she managed not to break the microphone she was clutching in her hand.

"Help! Let me out! Someone? Anyone? Rio, where are you?!"

Finally she gave up. With a furtive look around to assure herself no thugs or Misfits were around to discover her secret, she reached up to finger one of the gaudy red starburst-shaped earrings she wore.

"Show's over, Synergy."

But nothing happened. Instead, a funny piece of parchment floated into view, and a floating quill beside it. Was the quill actually reading questions to her, and then writing down the answers?

( Show's over, Synergy! .... Synergy? SYNERGY?!? Hello ...? )

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

theregothedrums.livejournal.com

The Little Green Apple was as good a neutral spot as any in Hogwarts, and comfortable to boot. The Master was still making at least a token effort to seem nonchalant and sardonic, despite the intense longing he was sure kept creeping into his gaze. If he could make a show of ignoring it, perhaps the Doctor would allow him the dignity of doing the same.

It helped that there were so many utterly ridiculous bits of trivia in what made up daily life at Hogwarts. Even the rather skimpy outline he'd given was enough to distract anyone with a modicum of curiosity... a mad hat dictator with a penchant for forced marriages, hexed chocolates with the most alarming (if temporary) effects, and the sheer variety of residents from a seemingly limitless pool of potential universes was fuel for plenty of conversation.

There was, however, a matter of personal importance he needed to settle, and the sooner the better. He'd thought he'd had the help he needed lined up, but that seemed less certain than he'd thought. Alternate measures might be called for.

Which, damn it, meant lowering himself to asking for help, to asking the Doctor for help, again.

"And there's a personal project I'm working on," he said, changing the subject abruptly. "Alone, it's not something I'm comfortable... letting anyone else into... but I've reached a point that I won't be able to manage entirely on my own."

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Entries tagged with the master

Drinks in Ravenclaw ((Rory and the Master))

Owl from the Master to the Third Doctor

Application: Third Doctor (Doctor Who)

discovery ((Coraline and the Master))

Literacy is truly outrageous! [Jem, the Master, and open to whomever]

OH NOES DETENTION! - RP for Baron Harkonnen and the Master

Christmas Trollery in the Compy Lab!

Application : General Grievous (Star Wars : Clone Wars)

Luscious Pumpkin Jam (dated to Halloween night)

(no subject)

Application for Veronica Santangelo, Fallout: New Vegas

A Hellgoddess and an evil overlord walk into a bar (RP for Glory and the Master)

WART from the Master!

[RP for Ten and the Master]

Unpopping the Doctor

[Closed, Master/Turlough] Wiping that smirk off his face.

So what do bookworms eat? [Fifth Doctor and OPEN!]

confidante ((closed for Rory and the Master))

application for Jem! (of the cartoon JEM)

RP for the Tenth Doctor and the Master

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March 2022

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