Soris came through a small, wooden door, very, very confused. He had been going into the marketplace to sell a few things-- and upon walking out the front door to his home had ended up here
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Pufnstuf entered the Sorting Room backwards, just for a change of pace. He spun around at the last moment and double-gunned Soris, his eyes spinning in opposite directions like the tassels on a talented stripper.
"Hi! You..." But the familiar phrase died a-borning. Because this creature did not look like Jimmy. At all.
Puf was deeply saddened by this unexpected turn of events.
Oh, no. This would never do. Puf looked sourly at not-Jimmy's extended hand - which is to say that his expression changed not a jot. He ignored the gesture and reached out his arms for a hug.
Vote: Gryffindor!pufnstufJune 26 2011, 11:21:52 UTC
A brave, brave soul this. Puf enfolds him tenderly, possibly lipping the top of the elf's head experimentally. Soris probably can't tell if it's deliberate or not: Puf's intentions are generally obscure, even to him.
It comes to Puf in a great, emotional rush: this must be Cling n' Clang, spliced together by Witchiepoo's evil machinations. Or rather, what he thought was, 'You look jes' like Cling n' Clang.'
Nary a word of his suspicions was spoke, though, lest it truly be Stupid Bat in a cunning disguise. Puf was wily like that.
Hugging procedure complete. He looked closely at Soris, pupils spinning clockwise for precisely .27 seconds before coming to a complete stop in the exact center of his eye and then slowly drifting in random directions. "You bring th' Rescue Racer? This place is jes' chock full o' folk needin' rescue." He began a stylised Bollywood interpretive dance. "I'm votin' Gryffindor, cos yer a brave couple of blobs."
Re: Vote: Gryffindor!soris_tabrisJune 26 2011, 14:29:43 UTC
It became clear to Soris after the uncomfortably long hug that no matter what he said, the creature wasn't going to listen to any reason he could give about who he really was, or where he was really from.
"I, uh... I don't have a Rescue Racer," he said, eyeing the dancing... thing... "But the second I have one, I'll let you know."
"Hi! You..." But the familiar phrase died a-borning. Because this creature did not look like Jimmy. At all.
Puf was deeply saddened by this unexpected turn of events.
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"Well, uh. My name's Soris. It's a pleasure to meet you." He extended a hand, hoping this thing wasn't hostile.
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Slowly, cautiously, he extended his arms in the same way, praying to the Maker that this thing wouldn't devour him or something like that.
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It comes to Puf in a great, emotional rush: this must be Cling n' Clang, spliced together by Witchiepoo's evil machinations. Or rather, what he thought was, 'You look jes' like Cling n' Clang.'
Nary a word of his suspicions was spoke, though, lest it truly be Stupid Bat in a cunning disguise. Puf was wily like that.
Hugging procedure complete. He looked closely at Soris, pupils spinning clockwise for precisely .27 seconds before coming to a complete stop in the exact center of his eye and then slowly drifting in random directions. "You bring th' Rescue Racer? This place is jes' chock full o' folk needin' rescue." He began a stylised Bollywood interpretive dance. "I'm votin' Gryffindor, cos yer a brave couple of blobs."
Reply
"I, uh... I don't have a Rescue Racer," he said, eyeing the dancing... thing... "But the second I have one, I'll let you know."
Reply
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