(no subject)
Mar. 22nd, 2006 08:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
averygoodun42First off, Happy belated birthday to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
snarkyroxy and kjay1! Hope your birthdays were wonderful.
Second,
http://drawapig.desktopcreatures.com/gallery/large.asp?id=990888&p=0&hof=1&q=personality+test
hmm. I HATE drawing with a mouse. Most mice (what is the plural of a computer mouse?) are designed for right handed use. Although I am slightly ambidextrous, I write and draw left handed. Drawing with a mouse is awkward. Icky. Uncomfortable. Bleh. At some point, when we have money to burn, I'll get one of those electronic pencils. That'll make me a touch happier.
Sigh. I'm tired. I'm achy. I just want to go to bed and not get up for the next week. Bleh.
On the bright side, I think I've finished the first draft of chapter five! It's the shortest chapter yet, if I decide it is done. It's only about 4300 words. Absolutely tiny. ;) I asked DH if I jumped the shark with that chapter, because, well, it is rather extreme, but he said I've written it so that it's all very plausible (within the story's context). The only thing he actively protested was that it didn't end on a cliffie. Thing is, if I continued it through what's probably going to be chapter 6, it still wouldn't end with a cliffhanger, and I refuse to end it a few paragraphs back just so that it is a cliffie.
Am I revealing too much? Hmm.
Anyway, to celebrate the (tentative) completion of the troublesome chapter 5 (I had to write the ending 3 times, and that's before revision), here's a(n unbetaed) teaser from chapter 4.
Hermione reached the stairway out of the dungeons before she realized she didn't know where to go. All she knew was that she wasn't going back to Snape. Not only was she afraid of him, but she was afraid of what she would do to him.
She quickly ran through her options, realizing with a grimace there weren't many that were viable. She could go to the Great Hall to meet up with Harry and Ginny, but most likely they had already left for the common room.
The common room was an option, but she didn't trust herself to stay quiet if questioned. As angry as she was at Severus, she didn't really want to bad mouth him to the student body. He was her husband, after all, for better and for worse. The other bad thing about the common room was that come bed time, she would have no place to go, unless she wanted to explain her situation to all and sundry.
The library was attractive, but, again, where would she go when it closed? She went through her mental inventory of all her favorite nooks and crannies in the castle, and kept coming up with the cold, hard fact that there wasn't a single place for her to sleep, other than her marriage bed.
Hearing someone coming down the stairs, Hermione retreated to the nearest door and, fortunately, found it unlocked. Quickly and quietly, she looked around and, finding nothing but a dark, barren room, closed the door to the corridor. She breathed a sigh of relief as she heard the footsteps fade without pausing at her door.
She waited until the footsteps were no longer audible, then reached for the handle and pulled. And pulled again. The third time she pulled on the handle, she put all her weight into it, but the door stubbornly remained where it was.
Panting slightly, she let go, then withdrew her wand and cast alohamora without any results. She tried again, this time using a stronger unlocking spell she'd come across the previous year, but it didn't work either. Growing concerned, she wracked her brains for some spell that might get her out of the room.
Casting Lumos, she looked at the hinges, but they seemed to be in good order; they hadn't squeaked when she entered the room. She then peered at the latch, but couldn't see any problems there, either. Extinguishing the light, she cast an unsticking charm, a greasing charm, a release charm, and finally a purging hex, all to no avail. Cringing at the destruction she was about to wreak, she backed up a few feet and said, "Reducto," but nothing happened.
She cast Lumos again, and studied the door, trying to discern the problem. The longer she looked at the door, however, the more it looked like a perfectly ordinary wooden door which should open when prodded.
Shrugging, she stepped up and tried the handle again. It didn't budge. Crossing her arms in frustration, she turned around to lean on the door, hoping that she had just imagined it opening into the room. Unfortunately, the door offered her back sturdy support.
Letting her shoulders droop, she gave up and slid to the floor. All she could hope was that someone would walk by fairly soon, and that they would hear her.
After taking five minutes to sulk fruitlessly, she raised her wand to illuminate the room a little better. It was fairly odd to find a windowless room that didn't have torches lining the walls, but it seemed like every other dungeon room in otherwise: dank, dark and moldy.
Sighing, she got up to examine the door once again but, finding nothing, she returned her attention to the room itself. There was a pile of straight backed chairs on one side of the room, and on the other side there was a bulky form covered with a dingy cloth. Edging forward, she examined the cloth covered object, noting the years of dust that had accumulated.
Lifting the dust jacket slightly, she peeked underneath to see... nothing. Whatever the cloth was covering seemed to be invisible. She tentatively reached out to touch whatever she couldn't see, but by the time her shoulder was even with the edge of the cloth, she still couldn't feel anything. Invisible and intangible. Interesting.
Intent on examining the non-object closer, she was lifting the cover when she heard voices from the corridor. Not caring who was on the other side, she ran over and started pounding on the door, yelling for help.
Pausing for a moment, she waited to see if the people had noticed her, but all she heard were indistinct voices getting fainter.
"No!" she yelled, pounding on the door again. "Don't go! I'm in here! Please, help me get out!" She kept pounding on the door for a minute more, but she knew, even before she stopped making noise, that the people were gone.
Frustrated, she kicked the door as hard as she could and promptly yelped, sitting down gracelessly to hold her damaged foot. Tears of pain filled the corners of her eyes, and as she tried to soothe her toes, images came to mind of slowly dying -- withering away in the horrible, cold, damp, stuffy room. She tried to shake those thoughts away, but a quiet voice inside her head pointed out that at least she'd be reunited with Ron if she were never rescued from the room.
snarkyroxy and kjay1! Hope your birthdays were wonderful.Second,
http://drawapig.desktopcreatures.com/gallery/large.asp?id=990888&p=0&hof=1&q=personality+test
hmm. I HATE drawing with a mouse. Most mice (what is the plural of a computer mouse?) are designed for right handed use. Although I am slightly ambidextrous, I write and draw left handed. Drawing with a mouse is awkward. Icky. Uncomfortable. Bleh. At some point, when we have money to burn, I'll get one of those electronic pencils. That'll make me a touch happier.
Sigh. I'm tired. I'm achy. I just want to go to bed and not get up for the next week. Bleh.
On the bright side, I think I've finished the first draft of chapter five! It's the shortest chapter yet, if I decide it is done. It's only about 4300 words. Absolutely tiny. ;) I asked DH if I jumped the shark with that chapter, because, well, it is rather extreme, but he said I've written it so that it's all very plausible (within the story's context). The only thing he actively protested was that it didn't end on a cliffie. Thing is, if I continued it through what's probably going to be chapter 6, it still wouldn't end with a cliffhanger, and I refuse to end it a few paragraphs back just so that it is a cliffie.
Am I revealing too much? Hmm.
Anyway, to celebrate the (tentative) completion of the troublesome chapter 5 (I had to write the ending 3 times, and that's before revision), here's a(n unbetaed) teaser from chapter 4.
Hermione reached the stairway out of the dungeons before she realized she didn't know where to go. All she knew was that she wasn't going back to Snape. Not only was she afraid of him, but she was afraid of what she would do to him.
She quickly ran through her options, realizing with a grimace there weren't many that were viable. She could go to the Great Hall to meet up with Harry and Ginny, but most likely they had already left for the common room.
The common room was an option, but she didn't trust herself to stay quiet if questioned. As angry as she was at Severus, she didn't really want to bad mouth him to the student body. He was her husband, after all, for better and for worse. The other bad thing about the common room was that come bed time, she would have no place to go, unless she wanted to explain her situation to all and sundry.
The library was attractive, but, again, where would she go when it closed? She went through her mental inventory of all her favorite nooks and crannies in the castle, and kept coming up with the cold, hard fact that there wasn't a single place for her to sleep, other than her marriage bed.
Hearing someone coming down the stairs, Hermione retreated to the nearest door and, fortunately, found it unlocked. Quickly and quietly, she looked around and, finding nothing but a dark, barren room, closed the door to the corridor. She breathed a sigh of relief as she heard the footsteps fade without pausing at her door.
She waited until the footsteps were no longer audible, then reached for the handle and pulled. And pulled again. The third time she pulled on the handle, she put all her weight into it, but the door stubbornly remained where it was.
Panting slightly, she let go, then withdrew her wand and cast alohamora without any results. She tried again, this time using a stronger unlocking spell she'd come across the previous year, but it didn't work either. Growing concerned, she wracked her brains for some spell that might get her out of the room.
Casting Lumos, she looked at the hinges, but they seemed to be in good order; they hadn't squeaked when she entered the room. She then peered at the latch, but couldn't see any problems there, either. Extinguishing the light, she cast an unsticking charm, a greasing charm, a release charm, and finally a purging hex, all to no avail. Cringing at the destruction she was about to wreak, she backed up a few feet and said, "Reducto," but nothing happened.
She cast Lumos again, and studied the door, trying to discern the problem. The longer she looked at the door, however, the more it looked like a perfectly ordinary wooden door which should open when prodded.
Shrugging, she stepped up and tried the handle again. It didn't budge. Crossing her arms in frustration, she turned around to lean on the door, hoping that she had just imagined it opening into the room. Unfortunately, the door offered her back sturdy support.
Letting her shoulders droop, she gave up and slid to the floor. All she could hope was that someone would walk by fairly soon, and that they would hear her.
After taking five minutes to sulk fruitlessly, she raised her wand to illuminate the room a little better. It was fairly odd to find a windowless room that didn't have torches lining the walls, but it seemed like every other dungeon room in otherwise: dank, dark and moldy.
Sighing, she got up to examine the door once again but, finding nothing, she returned her attention to the room itself. There was a pile of straight backed chairs on one side of the room, and on the other side there was a bulky form covered with a dingy cloth. Edging forward, she examined the cloth covered object, noting the years of dust that had accumulated.
Lifting the dust jacket slightly, she peeked underneath to see... nothing. Whatever the cloth was covering seemed to be invisible. She tentatively reached out to touch whatever she couldn't see, but by the time her shoulder was even with the edge of the cloth, she still couldn't feel anything. Invisible and intangible. Interesting.
Intent on examining the non-object closer, she was lifting the cover when she heard voices from the corridor. Not caring who was on the other side, she ran over and started pounding on the door, yelling for help.
Pausing for a moment, she waited to see if the people had noticed her, but all she heard were indistinct voices getting fainter.
"No!" she yelled, pounding on the door again. "Don't go! I'm in here! Please, help me get out!" She kept pounding on the door for a minute more, but she knew, even before she stopped making noise, that the people were gone.
Frustrated, she kicked the door as hard as she could and promptly yelped, sitting down gracelessly to hold her damaged foot. Tears of pain filled the corners of her eyes, and as she tried to soothe her toes, images came to mind of slowly dying -- withering away in the horrible, cold, damp, stuffy room. She tried to shake those thoughts away, but a quiet voice inside her head pointed out that at least she'd be reunited with Ron if she were never rescued from the room.
