[identity profile] ancient-adam.livejournal.com
Methos wasn't sure when he had decided to start marking his birthdays on the new year. It may have been in Rome, or while he was living in Athens, he couldn't remember exactly; but it made it easier to count the years as they passed.

Today he turned five thousand two hundred and fifty seven.. or so.

It had been a supremely strange year, and given his age, that was saying something. He had gone on wild drinking binges with angels, met old friends he had thought long dead, and learned magic.

The immortal wasn't in much of a celebrating mood, so he headed out to walk near the Forbidden Forest. In a leather bag slung over his shoulder was a six pack of beer, a bottle of scotch and a bottle of old honeyed mead he begged off a house elf. He'd drink, toast in the new year, and another year past.
[identity profile] masteroftitans.livejournal.com
((WARNING: CONTAINS SPOILERS for Spartacus: Blood and Sand, season 1.))

A middle-aged man of unimpressive stature, dressed in the garments of a successful Roman and drenched in blood, appeared on the floor of the Sorting Room. After a moment, he stood up, looking around. There was supposed to be a river. And a ferryman. And a three-headed dog. But, there wasn't. There was only a strange room, without a trace of sand or blood anywhere. Except on his garments, which were drenched in it. His hand sought his neck as he took in his surroundings, lingering there a moment, and he frowned.

ExpandRead more... )
[identity profile] fr-ickingbig.livejournal.com
It's funny what happens when you have a room that allows you to get anything you want. Funny, as in crazy things happen.

Thus, Francium thought of his friends. He wanted to talk to the other Periodics again. Unfortunately, when he thought of element names, he was referring to the horses, but the room thought he meant the actual elements. Science was a different place from wherever Hogwarts was. When he barged into the room, there was, basically, fire and boom. Tip: do not add alkali metals to, well, anything. Do not add extremely radioactive materials to said alkali metals. And you certainly don't surround that whole thing with chlorine and other reactive vapors. And you REALLY certainly don't summon a lump of nuclear fuel close to that big mess.

The room of requirement would erupt in an intense flash of white light and fire, with the resulting smoke cloud dissipating into a eerie blue glow, sticking to the walls and ceiling. Francium himself took no damage: he had prepared for an attack by Tungsten or something if the room had extrapolated, thus was in gaseous phase at the time. Among the glowing smoke, silver whispers of vapor coalesced into the form of the giant horse, who eventually switched back into his standard form, the tough, reflective body of a stallion. A very embarrassed stallion.

"Do I fix this?" he muttered, stepping over some chunked-up floor fragments.
[identity profile] chinasorrows.livejournal.com
((OOC: In the Skulduggery Pleasant canon, when a person first sees China Sorrows, they fall instantly in love. The ability isn't gender bias, it will affect men and women equally. In addition, within the canon, is the susceptibility to control somone once their name is known. These abilities may or may not affect the characters at Hogwarts if that is the mun's preference. If you think it will be fun to play into it, e.g. to let a character fall for China, then you'll need to let me know through OOC or pm. For more information on China, check her user profile. Her mun.))

China Sorrows; her hair, black as deepest sin, framed her face while her eyes, as pale as her brother’s had been, scanned the sorting room. The heavy doors closed behind her with a soft fwump. The skirt she wore was a light green, and the jacket was of a green deeper than a thousand crushed emeralds. Her necklace was exquisite, having cost two very fine men their lives. At times, she wore it as a tribute to their sacrifice. Other times, she wore it because it went well with the skirt.

China walked to the desk at the far end of the room, situated below the large arched windows that overlooked the lush grounds of the castle. When she sat down in the chair the quill, having been unanimated next to a scruffy piece of parchment, became animated, standing at attention on its gold-point. China eyed it. A small smile graced her lips. She noticed that as she leant in to read the parchment, the quill was slowly turning clockwise on the desktop, grinding into the grain. Curious, she thought.

At the parchment’s top it explained that any verbal answers would be written down by the quill. The addendum and questions were all written in the elegant, Edwardian script. She was intrigued. She read on.

ExpandAllow me to elucidate... )

"I have read the hogwarts_hocus  faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. __China Sorrows__
I have read the hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. __China Sorrows__.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. __China Sorrows__.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. __China Sorrows__"
[identity profile] junotechsupport.livejournal.com
[[OOC: Taken immediately after the Great Seal is performed, but before she loses her memories of the Dark Hour, Shadows, Personas, etc. Uses the semi-canon name Minato Arisato when referring to the Protagonist.]]

ExpandCut for a scene which might be triggering. )

There was a sound almost like glass shattering and what looked like a huge woman appeared in Hogwarts, Fuuka inside the bubble below. Fuuka's voice took on an echo-y tone as she spoke while inside.

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? No Shadows...lots of humans..." Fuuka furrowed her brow, "but what are these ones I can't identify?" (Those would be the demons, gods, aliens, and Shoggies. The Shoggies are totally non-scannable. :P)

The creature disappeared, leaving Fuuka standing there. "I didn't know there was an entire school devoted to magic." Wherever she was at, they were definitely farther along than Gekkoukan High. The Dictaquill poked her in the arm.


ExpandOh! I'm sorry, I didn't realize I had to fill this out. )

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


ExpandYou 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___________
[identity profile] 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.

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. __Ryssland__
I have read the [livejournal.com profile] 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__"
[identity profile] runaway-stark.livejournal.com
She was safe, she was warm, and the whole situation was very much like being asleep. And then with an abrupt pop!, Arya Stark was salty and buttery and very much wide awake.

She was disoriented for several seconds, trying to mesh two distinct memories of where she had just been. The first set was of Braavos, and the House of Black and White, and going to sleep after drinking a cup of bitter milk. The other was of this place, this castle... Hogwarts, she thought, and faces flashed in her mind, at once familiar and alien. Memories of most of her family here, though they were more impressions than images. And memories of some time before, coming back into the school to check in with her temporary guardian Kal, only to find his name on the plaque. It had been the last in a chain of... something... and she had stopped fighting and gone to sleep.

"Welcome back," said a man's voice from somewhere above her. She wiped greasy butter out of her eyes and looked up, seeing a large, burly man in a garishly-colored button-up shirt left open over a white undershirt, a pair of short trousers cut right around the knee, and a pair of worn-looking leather sandals in a style that she'd never seen, not even in Braavos where travelers from all over came. "Nice little pigsticker you've got there, eh, girl?"

Arya looked around her and found a sword--her sword, Needle--next to her and covered in as much butter as she was. She grabbed for it and started to try and wipe it off on the leg of her own cut-off trousers, but it did absolutely no good. The man chuckled. "Here," he said, reaching into a bag that he carried slung over one shoulder and pulling out another brightly-colored shirt. "Good girl," he said approvingly. "You've a good sense of priorities. You know how to properly care for a sword."

"Of course I do," she said irritably, more at the situation than at the man. The shirt was getting soaked with grease, but Needle looked slightly better than before. "I'm going to be a water dancer."

"Is that so?" the man said with the genial blandness of someone who didn't know what she was talking about. "Good for you, then. Name's Titus Pullo."

Arya looked at him warily, considered that she was holding a sword and he wasn't, and remembered vaguely that she was safe at Hogwarts. "Arya Stark."

((Both Arya and Pullo are available in here. Come on in and say hi!))
[identity profile] gourmetchairman.livejournal.com
Yes, I did just rip off Oliver, what of it?


Whether he had found a house elf who was a fantastic cook or snuck some of his own chefs in, the Chairman would never tell, but he had a modest but good feast laid out. A full list of what's offered isn't up (mainly because the mun is winging it), but among the foods were a foie gras dish, a Mishima beef dish, a potato dish, a tricolor bell pepper dish, and a dormouse dish.

The last was specifically for Octavian, whom he sent an invitation to, as he did to Kusuriyuri, who had wanted to learn more about foreign food. However, he was a generous madman, and anyone who wanted to sample some food was more than welcome.

And none of it will turn him into a cat.
[identity profile] ninedoves.livejournal.com
    A woman dressed in a strange uniform enters the sorting room.  She appears to be lost, her eyes scanning the room as she walks towards a nearby table.  “Hello?”  Before she has finished the word, a quill pen practically leaps up and begins writing.  The woman raises an eyebrow.  It was amazing what Shield’s technology could do, but a self-writing pen?  Really, that’s what they were working so hard on?  Curious, the woman reaches for the paper the quill has written on.  It looked like a list of interview questions.  Placing the sheet back on the table, she began to answer its questions

"I have read the [Unknown site tag]hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. Magdalena Marie Neuntauben

I have read the [Unknown site tag]hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. Magdalena Marie Neuntauben.

I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. Magdalena Marie Neuntauben.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. Magdalena Marie Neuntauben"

((OOC:  Veda is taken from between issues 4 and 5 because her player is broke and hasn't read past that.  There should not be any spoilers for the plot beyond those issues.  Forgive any inaccuracies, my issues are two states away at the moment.

Edit:  Sorry, I think I've fixed everything. Please let me know if I missed anything. ))
[identity profile] ingenius-evil.livejournal.com
((Totes meant to do this forever and a half ago. Might as well do it now while he's the only muse I got!

Technically speaking, here, Zim has not been popcorned - mun ownership has transferred over, is all. I'm going the whole popcorn amnesia route, however, becau~use it's easier to explain the time gap since the last mun used him, and... Okay, I'm just too lazy to read old roleplays. Consequentially, Zim remembers showing up at Hogwarts and the concept of it - fuzzily so - but he doesn't remember anything else that has happened.

This is also WAY backdated to before Evan Ferguson's application, because... Zim kind of showed up there. Continuity wut. Okay, and if that's enough OOC-mumbo jumbo for you yet, onward!))


ExpandSo strong my face is/You punch break fingers/Kick me you're limping/Stab me you're bleeding/I am be dangerous now/You throwing rock at me/Hit eye and it no hurt me/I'm strong/You're not/You're not/I'm making time for fighting/I'm clearing time for hitting/We'll meet and I will beat you/Our schedules permitting/I pick out fighting outfit/Don't want my pants too tight/Need clothes to breath to beat you/You'll be beaten down tonight )
[identity profile] queenbeewaldorf.livejournal.com
((For the record, Blair's canon is going to be from the television series version of Gossip Girl, not the books.))

What kind of school hired ugly little midgets for their bellboys?

Honestly, Blair couldn't stop looking back at the things with some kind of curious disgust. They had these giant ears and huge noses and what were they wearing? Knapsacks? At least the Waldorf mansion had housekeepers paid enough to be able to afford their own clothing. Dorota was nice, actually. Not a midget. Normal-sized ears. Laid out her clothes and everything. And did something weird with cleaners that had her room smelling like vanilla rather than Lysol - what was not to love?

So, another country. Scotland, to be precise. Land of constitutional monarchy, St. Andrew's cross, and Irvine Welsh. Another boarding school. This place was no Constance Billard, that was for sure. At least it was all that closer to her father's chateau in France, him and his boyfriend Giles. She had to wonder how Ping and Pong were doing. She hadn't seen him in so long.

The school, though, that's where it had gotten interesting. Magic? A certain Eleanor Waldorf had not been happy to hear about this little number, taking off for a new boarding school. Prestigious, still, and something to help boost that interview to get into Yale, she was sure.

ExpandPlus? It looked like they were pretty damn lax on the uniform policy. Score. )


"I have read the [livejournal.com profile] hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. BCW
I have read the [livejournal.com profile] hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one mostsome? of them. BCW
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. More like satin culottes. I don't do granny panties, thanks! BCW
One day, marmaladeI will probably rule the world. BCW
palewhiteand: (Default)
[personal profile] palewhiteand
Ruby frowned as she looked over the application she held. Magic school? What in the...

It couldn't hurt to answer the questions. When in Creta, do as the Cretans do, or so the saying went. She sighed and proceeded to answer.


ExpandNo looking backward, after all. )

I have read the [livejournal.com profile] hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. ~*Ruby*~
I have read the [livejournal.com profile] hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. ~~**Ruby**~~
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. ~*~Ruby~*~
One day, marmalade will rule the world. ~*~*~Ruby~*~*~
[identity profile] deadlywrenches.livejournal.com
Because Winry was a mechanic, the frequency of having something to work on largely depending on other people bringing her things to fix, but since getting married most of her time had been spent with Edward, and she had made very little progress in the 'consumer relations' category.

And so, she set up a booth just outside the Great Hall, the words "Rockbell Elric Repairs" painted in large green letters on the wood, and a smaller sign that said "Free repairs and maintenance work - Bring me your broken or damaged possessions and I will fix them, free of charge!"

After setting her tools out on a cloth on the counter, she sat behind the booth and propped her chin in one hand, perking up when people walked by and grinning widely at them.
[identity profile] iam-beowulf.livejournal.com
Hwæt! A very muscular Geat in a leather loincloth-type thing strode into the Sorting Room out of nowhere. A leather band circled his temples in a vaguely '80s way, and he wore leather boots.

If anyone wondered who he was, they could cease their wondering almost immediately, as the first words out of his mouth were: "I AM BEOWULF!"

The Dictaquill wrote this down dutifully. Beowulf watched with an impassive eye. He had seen stranger things than a self-propelled feather.

ExpandHWAET! )

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

Also, you may enjoy this synopsis of the movie, not written by me.
[identity profile] arc-angel31.livejournal.com
*Annja stares around the room in surprise, still holding her flashlight up in one hand and an open book in the other. Ok, this was not what she was supposed to find on this dig. One minute she'd been picking through a ruined castle, indeed, a -condemned- ruined castle in Scotland and the next she was... here. Now, admittedly, this certainly looked like it fit with the castle she'd been exploring but... in a whole lot better shape. Absently she mutters* Where on Earth did I end up? For that matter... how did I get here?

*Curiously she wanders around the room, studying the architecture intently, periodically making muttered remarks about it to herself. Realizing her flashlight is still on she clicks it off and stows it in her pack, slipping the book in after it and retrieving another one. Opening the new one she glances from it to the walls, continuing her slow walk. After a few moments she reaches the table of applications. Shaken out of her reverie, Annja glances down at them, automatically picking one up. Frowning slightly she peruses it, occasionally mumbling an answer out loud*
ExpandWell this isn't your everyday castle decor )
[identity profile] fiercefluffy.livejournal.com
Octavian did not ordinarily go about clanking with money. Indeed, slaves handled most of the money for the house of the Julii. He'd brought a small supply with him on his expedition to Hibernia, or Britannia, or what have you (the old pontifex hadn't been too clear on that; Octavian now felt fairly certain this was the extreme north of Britannia), but it was nothing near what he needed to fulfill all the payments he had promised in exchange for votes in the Sorting Room. The little girl Rose Casson had almost cleaned him out.

Fortunately, he could command his journeyings between here and his Rome; while his mun was in Florida he made a short visit home, not to his mother's house (though he would have liked to see Octavia, the risk of running into Atia or, worse, Antony was not a prospect Octavian cared to entertain) but to the moneylenders with whom he'd arranged to borrow against Caesar's will initially. Assured that neither his mother nor Mark Antony had heard anything about this sizable loan, nor had means of learning thereof, he returned to Hogwarts as sanguine as he could ever be, amply supplied with denarii.

To the Sorting Hat he sent 500, as they had agreed, and to those who had given him votes and had not explicitly declined payment, he sent 50 each in accordance with his offer. These were the recipients:

Laura de Winter
Titus Pullo
Jaime Reyes
Laura Palmer
Tenel Ka Chume Ta' Djo
Wolfram von Bielefeld
Shibuya Yuuri


Each 50-denarii payment had been secured in a small leather purse, plain and unadorned, cinched with a knotted leather thong. To each of these a note had been tied as well, with the recipient's full name and the brief message In thanks for your vote, here is the promised gift. Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus.

Each, that was, except for Tenel Ka's payment. That one Octavian set aside until the others had been dispensed with, house elves clanking off to the Owlery with the neat little parcels.

He considered using her full name, to show respect (and, perhaps a little, to demonstrate retention of memory). In the end he simply sent the bag itself with no signature or seal, only the tersest of messages:

I am Sorted into Slytherin. Would a lake do in place of a fountain?


This one he sent with the tame owl he had bought for himself, a very nondescript and average specimen of owlness. He thought a lake might do for Tenel Ka's stated purpose, and if she asked him why, he would explain.
[identity profile] fiercefluffy.livejournal.com
A young man appears in the Sorting Room, in the way people often appear here: without warning. He carries himself with what modern prose might style a patrician bearing. This is for good reason. He is a patrician, the genuine article.

While he does not seem entirely surprised to find himself here, neither does he seem entirely prepared. For one, he's not dressed for Hogwarts. He wears a tunic and a toga over that, both white with a border of murex red-purple, the true Tyrian purple. If asked, he will stress that he wears this because of status, not age: though this is what younger boys wear, also all pontifices are entitled to the toga praetexta. He put on the plain toga virilis a few years ago, years that seem to him quite long, and only put it away for this when his uncle named him pontiff: a surprising honor, for one so young, only seventeen; and Octavian may be a little touchy about his age, these days. Properly speaking he ought to be the head of his family.

Properly speaking, he is the head of his family. But there is not very much that is proper about Octavian's house, these days, it seems to him.

He is lettered, quite solidly so, more so perhaps than his mother would like. However, he has never seen a quill pen before, being accustomed to the use of a stylus, and it does not occur to him immediately that this feather upon the table is meant for writing. The Dictaquill does its work. Octavian watches it with a slight widening of his eyes that quickly regulates itself to his normal set expression.

This place is as strange as he had expected.


ExpandI can take care of myself. )

By now, the quill has demonstrated its purpose quite adequately. In mid-stroke, its movement is interrupted by Octavian, who grasps it and writes his name, neatly, in a smooth and well-schooled hand:

Gaius Octavian.

He writes it by habit, then crosses it out. Lately he has been given a new name.

Gaius Julius Caesar Octavianus.

There. Better.



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

Expandhere there be OOC notes )
[identity profile] 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.


ExpandIs 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_______"
[identity profile] pullo-xiii.livejournal.com
Former legionary Titus Pullo, current captain of the Aventine collegium, stumbled out of his bed and into his clothes. A big man wearing the tunic of a commoner and soldier's caligae, he blearily made his way to the kitchen for breakfast, only to find that he was suddenly in a room that looked nothing like the wood and stone of his apartment on the Aventine. He looked around in surprise and went for the little Gallic knife that he kept hidden in one bracer. "Mascius? Vorena? Aeneas?" His voice was slightly more panicked at the last name, before he calmed and took a good look at his surroundings. "What's this, then? I didn't drink enough last night to not find my way home! ...Dis, what language is this I'm speaking, German?" He sounded appalled for a second, but quickly brushed it off. Looking around, he didn't see anything or anyone immediately threatening, so the knife disappeared back up his bracer. He picked up a parchment lying on a table, found he could read it, and began giving his answers.

ExpandAll women have them! Ask anyone! )

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

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