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wombatminer.livejournal.com

((Digger is taken from after the end of the comic with the assumption she made it home ok; she has vague memories of Hogwarts but nothing specific.))

Digger had thought she was done waking up in ridiculous circumstances, but clearly, this wasn't the case, because in a strange place, surrounded by giant popcorn and covered in butter was ridiculous by anyone's measure. She sighed, facepalming, and then spent a moment furiously trying to wipe melted butter from her eye.

Well, no point crying over cracked marble (or errant dairy products, for that matter) - despite the butter, it didn't seem that anyone was trying to eat her, which was always a plus in Digger's book. And the stonework here was of solid quality, always a good sign - although she couldn't quite shake the feeling that it was somehow familiar. The wombat paused for a moment to extract a stick of chalk from her pack, marked a neat arrow next to the door of the popcorn room, and started along the passageway. Maybe she'd run into someone reasonable, although honestly, Digger wasn't holding out much hope on that score. As likely as not, there would probably be gods involved in a situation like this.

ugly-old-hat.livejournal.com

Clearly, the residents of Hat Shore needed something to do to keep from getting restless, much like a giant hamster ball. But once the idea of shoving everybody into a giant hamster ball had been nixed, the next best thing had been arranged: a boot camp! It would get everybody out into the open air, give everyone a chance to burn off energy, and provide a good laugh to all and sundry.

Being a wise and all-knowing and general busybody of a Hat who could indeed read minds while Sorting (even if it liked talking for talking's sake), the Hat had the perfect candidate in mind to be drafted into its fun. A few consultations were made, owls were exchanged, and Yoda, former Grand Master of the Jedi Order, found himself in charge of Hat Shore's Boot Camp.

( Hat Shore goes to camp. Not a happy camp. )

((Yoda will be available upon request--please note so in the subject line of your reply.

In order to pick a winner, the mods request that participating contestants go to random.org and use the number generator on the front page, 1 to 100, on the subject line of each first event post for your character. We will be operating on an honor system. At 11 p.m. US Eastern time on Wednesday, February 9, the mods will be totaling up the numbers and determining the winner thusly. Any further IC interactions--races, dueling, etc.--should be handled as usual, with communication between players to determine what, if anything, they wish to happen.

Have fun with each other and the environment!))

lorne-host.livejournal.com

A somewhat confused demon stood in the middle of the Sorting Room. His brilliant green skin, red horns and eyes contrasted sharply with the well tailored pale blue shirt and lemon yellow suit that he wore. He looked around and groaned. “Jumping Judas on a pogo stick, a castle? Isn’t this all a little, you know, cliché? I swear if the Powers sent me somewhere I can’t get my hands on a decent Seabreeze, I’m going on strike. Ya’ll can call Miss Cleo from now on.”

( Test? Can't I just hum a few bars? )

grandmasteryoda.livejournal.com

Cards from Codex to:

( Francium. )

( Dieter. )

( Igor. )

( Nemo. )

( Marcus. )

( Sakon and Ukon. )

Gifts and such from Megan:

( Igor! )

( Sage and Rat! )

( Maddie! )

( Dean! )

( Rose! )

Valentine's presents:

( Baron Harkonnen. )

( Jasper. )

( Dethklok. )

( Professor Homsar. )

Not-presents from Lee:

( Methos. )

( Raistlin. )

( Castiel. )

Something confused from Sokka:

( Ty Lee? )

( Kurama and... Mr. Kurama? )

From Aayla, there are a bowl of fortune cookies under a tiny Christmas tree in the Gryffindor common room, with "Merry Christmas - From Aayla Secura" on the bowl. The fortune cookies are not cursed, drugged, or in any way tampered with--they just have happy messages inside.

From Santa Yoda:

( To R2-D2 and C-3P0: )

( To Rat: )

( To Tenel Ka: )

( To Coraline: )

( To Toki and the Shoggies: )

( To Dieter: )

((And because I think it's hilarious, the voices of Obi-Wan Kenobi and Yoda from Star Wars: The Clone Wars did their own version of 'Twas The Night Before Christmas this year. Obi-Wan, Cad Bane, and Ziro doing How The Grinch Stole Christmas last year was pretty fun, too!))

oh-artoo.livejournal.com

A (mostly) gold droid waddled into the sorting room and stopped in shock. This was most unfortunate, as a short and squat droid was right behind him and ran into his knees. "Artoo! Pay attention!" the tall droid snapped. R2-D2 whistled something at him that sounded both indignant and rude.

"No, I don't know where we are! This must be some mistake." Artoo whistled again. "No, I don't believe that stone is an appropriate building material for a Mon Calamari cruiser. Do I look like a starship engineer? We'll just have to ask somebody in charge. Come along, Artoo."

Threepio walked over to the table and picked up the application. "Look, Artoo, at least they left instructions."

( 'Artoo and I would be pleased to elucidate!' '...It means explain, Artoo.' 'Well, don't blame me for your malfunctioning dictionary!' )

"I have read the [info]hogwarts_hocus faq, and understand it is a crazy, cracktastic sorting community and RPG. _C-3P0 and R2-D2___________
I have read the [info]hogwarts_hocus rules and agree to abide by each and every one of them. _C-3P0 and R2-D2__________.
I agree to be a good sport and not get my knickers in a bunch. _I'm afraid neither Artoo nor I are wearing knickers, but in the event that we would be we promise not to bunch them__________.
One day, marmalade will rule the world. __Which world would that be?___________"

((C-3P0 and R2-D2 are taking two character slots.))

((Sorry for the delay; I had family come in unannounced from out of state. I've spent the last few days trying to convince my Trekkie cousin that Star Wars is cooler. No luck :())

fizbanthegreat.livejournal.com

((OOC : edited for formatting fail. *sigh* Again.))

Raistlin was returning from his encounter with the dragons of Hogwarts, feeling quite pleased with how things had gone. He looked forward to future conversations with Nidhogg and was anticipating a meeting with this mysterious ‘Arioch’.

“Who turned out the lights?! I’ve gone blind! Pick on an old man will you? I’ll show you! What’s the name of that spell? Firecracker? Featherball? Ow!” The howl was in a voice so familiar it stopped him in his tracks. Raistlin whirled, pushing open the door to the Sorting Room. A short old man in tattered mouse-colored robes was flailing underneath one of the hanging tapestries that had somehow come off the wall. Raistlin passed by two house elves who were nearly doubled over with laughter. He pulled the heavy tapestry back and stared. Fizban. The avatar of Paladine, the Platinum Dragon, in the guise of a doddering old wizard had somehow found his way to Hogwarts.

"You!" was all the stunned mage could stammer out.

( Now where did that spellbook go? )

lion-in-white.livejournal.com

((Intended for a couple of specific characters, but I'm leaving the RP open in case anyone new would like to meet Jaime. Post edited to remove spoiler, but thread will likely contain them, so tell me if you mind being spoiled.))

Jaime misliked Hogwarts. He misliked the Sorting Hat and its coy hints. Whatever was in store for him, he'd prefer to face it head-on.

Given the nature of Hogwarts, he couldn't. He wasn't one to accept such inability, but in the end, he wasn't Tyrion. He was not the Lannister brother whose weapon was wit and cunning. He was the Lannister brother whose weapon was a sword. A sword he'd given away, at that.

This would be why he was sitting in the Little Green Apple, drinking. He was wearing his white cloak, grimy though it was. He wore it to remind himself who he was, or who he ought to be.

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

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__

kingbandit.livejournal.com

Jing is a thief. He lives to steal secrets and the representations of grief or pain from their owners. Hogwarts is rife with such secrets, but there is the matter of deciding just what to steal and when and whether he'd truly get away with it.

Then, there is the open challenge he has out to another thief, but the time isn't right yet. So many things happen that keep that particular prize from achieving the value it should have before it's reclaimed.

He's seen the compy lab and wondered about it. Does it hold secrets to steal? The best way to find out is to try. And Jing is one to be rather direct, issuing warnings of his intent. The lab is perfect for this as well.

A brief introductory session, interrupted by a tapestry behind him and the house elf showing him the system bursting into flames, and Jing understands much more than he was shown. In the manner of mischief common to boys and thieves, he makes a post under the name "ODorobou," since he is not one to hide just who and what he is.

Everyone has secrets, things they hide--or think they do--that they don't want anyone else to know. The problem with those secrets is the harder you try to hide them, the more valuable and more vulnerable they become. Unburden yourself. Reveal your secrets and be free of them.

Another fire behind him makes him decide to wait elsewhere, but he'll check back periodically to see just what secrets he collects.

This may be one of the easier heists he's pulled, if it works.

Current Mood: mischievous

grandmasteryoda.livejournal.com

Despite the general coloration, lack of height, and large batlike ears, only the very densest sort of person would mistake Yoda for one of Hogwarts' many house elves. For one thing, he wore clothes, the brown and grey Jedi robes that he had favored for hundreds of years before his death. For another, house elves tended to not use the gimer stick that served him as both cane and occasional snack.

And there was the intangible presence around him as he went about his decidedly non-house elf activites. Where the house elves were all busy bundles of nervous energy, Yoda was calm and still, with the ever-present Force acting always as his touchstone and guide. Such as now, as he sat in the library like a small mossy rock with bat ears, hardly moving save for his breathing, the occasional chewing motion as he gnawed his cane, and using his free tri-clawed hand to turn the page of the large tome almost as large as he was. The leather cover read Hogwarts, a History. He had spent the past year traveling this world, learning about history both magical and non-magical, and it seemed fitting to him that this particular excursion should end with the history of the establishment that currently served him as home.

He turned another page, ears twitching as he began a chapter on foreign wizarding influences on the school's architecture.

toujours-sirius.livejournal.com

It may or may not have been coincidental, but at almost the exact same time, eight figures walked through the front door of Hogwarts and into the Entrance Hall. Well, seven walked. The eighth blibbled.

( The godfather, the reluctant hero, and the marshmallow )

( The rhinoceros )

( The jokester )

( The swan )

( The boss and the receptionist )

((Time to officially end my unofficial hiatus! Please feel free to throw your characters at any or all of these guys, gals, and marshamallowy-type creatures! Emmie Silvey is still on hiatus, but I will bring her back in a separate post sometime in the nearish future. :) ))

wolfboyblack.livejournal.com

((OOC Approved by All Twilight muns, Jacob is taken from New Moon))

Jacob was confused to say the least at exactly where he was at the moment. The last he had remembered. Bella had decided to indulge herself in a cliff-diving "adventure" in which the boy had to painfully watch happen right in front of him. It was then that Jacob felt it necessary to be the hero (as usual these days) and save his best friend's life. The weird thing however was that just as he was about to enter the freezing Washington rapids, something happened and he ended up... well, here. Not knowing where exactly "here" was or what to do now that he had arrived, the dark-haired boy looked around for some sort of an answer.

He turned around only to be met by an interesting looking table, on top of which sat a quill and parchment. That was surely unusual, but he approached it anyway, not knowing what else to do.

( A Hero No More )

we-shall-see.livejournal.com

Is it possible to be so bored you die? No.

Is it possible to be so bored you long for the days you were under cover orchestrating military coups drinking unpasturized goat's milk wearing a hat that looked like a tea cozy and probably infested with fleas? Strangely enough, yes.

Is it possible to whistle the Queen of the Night's aria? Gust is doing his level best to find out. Rudely enough, in a library (albeit, in the back shelves, searching for books with the rudest curses he can possibly find, this side of the Restricted Section.)

monde-finis.livejournal.com

In the summer of 1999, very little surprised Claire Tourneur. She simply wouldn't let shock take away valuable time that could be spent partying away the fact that her life was going to end. Everyone's lives, actually. The nuclear satellite hung precariously over the earth, losing a battle with gravity that would end life on the planet when it finally succumbed. That was the theory, at least. Nobody was quite sure what would happen, but there was no point in taking chances. Faced with her own mortality, Claire had decided that if she couldn't beat the satellite to the punch, she was going to live the rest of her life in an unending fog.

The party she had just left was a one in a long string of interchangeable gatherings. She had woken up on a couch she couldn't remember falling asleep on. She'd picked up a champagne flute that certainly wasn't hers, grabbed shoes that possibly could be hers, and had stepped outside to leave in her stolen car. That was when the world had ended.

How else could she be in a cold castle, and not out in the drive? She was frozen, shocked into feeling her first strong emotion in months: fear. The fear didn't last long, though. The pills she had consumed the night before formed a protective chemical barrier against those bothersome feelings, and her pharmaceutical defenders were quick to come to her aide. So that was the end, she thought. I suppose that a warning would have been too much to ask for. French was her native tongue, but she was fluent in English and German, if the situation called for it.

If this was the end of the world, though, she had expected a bit more fanfare in the next life, or at least a bit more crowding. As it was, she was the only person in the room. There was one other object of note: a small wooden table with a sheath of papers and a pen. Or not a pen, really. Claire appreciated that. She would not enjoyed the afterlife very much if the celestial powers did not have a sense of flair. The paper had writing in English, so she answered in turn.

( I took the money/I spiked your drink/You miss too much these days if you stop to think )

vislor-turlough.livejournal.com

OOC: While the people below have signed up, this is open for anyone to enter the crazy.

So. It's Valentine's Day. Turlough had rounded up a few house elves to do his bidding. Said bidding was to set up tables with name cards, a table with food and drink (which may or may not be hexed, I couldn't decide), and a sign:

We will not be responsible for anyone fed love potions.

Because someone will.

We also will not be responsible for any actions here on in.

Turlough stood in the corner of the Great Hall, drink in hand, smirk on face as he watched people come on (or forced in by cattleprod point, in Soichiro's case.)

( Pairings as followed )

bad-date-nate.livejournal.com

To say that Nathaniel Archibald, son and heir to Anne and Howie 'The Captain' Archibald, was sleeping on the long wooden table would be not entirely accurate. Nate Archibald was unconscious on the long wooden table.

You can't blame the teen for partying too hard; a typical Upper East Side BYOB is BYOX, BYOGHB, and of course BYOBFF to guard your drink. And if your father took to calling himself the Captain, could you really be surprised if you found yourself toking up a few times ~~a weekend~~?

( Hello Hogwartsers. Looks like this school has claimed a new victim. )

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

Current Mood: sleepy

makeminemayday.livejournal.com

((Hey all - posting this NOW for the people across the pond. Secret Santa is still open, but due to shower lines, packing, traffic and a tyrannical 5-year-old, I have NO IDEA when I'll be home. Use it to mingle. May/Jaime/Tomo will be tagging sometime later tonight, I just can't say when.))

Decorations? Check.

Enough food and drink to feed an army? Check.

Slightly annoyed house elves because May hadn't let them risk their necks decorating the Great Hall (hey, sticking to walls could come in handy when you were hanging garlands)? Check.

Well, things looked good, May mused as she adjusted the hem of her red sweater dress and the Christmas light necklace she was wearing.

Nobody involved in the Secret Santa exchange had complained, not even Tomo (or Tomo's ~~victim~~ recipient). She literally jumped over a pair of house elves carrying trays as the first few people started trickling in, waving to them. "Hi, come on in! Merry Christmas!"

((Backdated to Christmas Day, of course! Secret Santa participants are expected to show up with one more gift for the recipient and to unmask themselves. Make sure that everyone who participated in the Secret Santa exchange has started a thread. Look for the thread of the person your character gave gifts to, and have them reveal/introduce themselves.

This is NOT just for Secret Santa stuff, of course, it's open to the whole school. Be warned, though, if anybody starts a physical fight in the Great Hall, Mayday will DEFINITELY try to break it up or get you to take it outside. Especially after what happened last year. Please make an OOC note if you don't want her to notice.))

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:

( Charles Macaulay )
( Francis Abernathy )
( Richard Papen )
( Selvetarm )
( Shaun and Liz )
( S.A.R.A.H. )
( Susan Sto Helit )
( Willow Rosenberg )
( John Ryder )
( Silas )
( Yoda )

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Page generated Jun. 19th, 2025 12:11 am

Entries tagged with yoda

The Unpopping of a Wombat ((open rp))

Reality Show Event 2: Hat Shore Boot Camp Swamp Edition! (Hat Shore Participants)

Welcome the Host ((application, Lorne, Angel season 5))

Gifts from Codex, Megan, Valentine, Lee, Sokka, Aayla, and Yoda

Application: C-3P0 and R2-D2, Star Wars

Fizban the Great ((dragonlance canon, application))

cheer up, emo Jaime! (open RP)

Arts and crafts with Yoda! (Open RP)

Open RP - Mistletoe Madness!

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

Compy Post: Your secrets

Teachers and students (Closed for Yoda and Octavian)

De-hiatusing post and open RP!

Application: Jacob Black (Twilight Series)

Open Rp: Disruptive and Unrepentant

Claire Tourneur: Until the End of the World

[Open RP] Happy Valentine's Day, suckers!

Application: Nate Archibald; "Gossip Girl" (TV Series)

Open RP: Christmas party in the Great Hall! (Backdated to Dec. 25th)

merry Christmas, from Camilla and Henry Winter! (backdated to Dec. 24)

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March 2022

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