![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
unforthGo insomnia go! Sigh.
When I was young, in late elementary school early middle school times, I had a phobia that caused me a lot of problems: I was afraid of death. Aside from a general unease about graveyards which would have been no big deal, this had several severe side effects. The first was that I was also afraid of the dark. The second was that I'd have terrible nightmares. And third thirds was that, as a result of the previous two and my inability to refrain from equating the oblivion of sleep with the much more permanent oblivion of death, I often had trouble sleeping. (indeed, as I got older I realized that my phobia never was of death, it was always simply of oblivion, and several other things related to oblivion still freak me out)
In order to overcome this, I started making up stories in my head. To begin with these were utter nonsense, but over the years I was in middle school they developed some very set forms. They universally starred what I now recognize as my own Mary Sue, a stunningly beautiful vaguely elven woman, tall and elegant with perfect black hair down to her ankles (though she often wore it in a braid, otherwise it'd be in the way when she fought!); she was an expert fighter with the staff and a broad sword; she was a talented wizardess, sort of; she was immortal; and she was angsty, as only immortals can be. I would read things, and I would pick at the stories until I found a way to integrate my Mary Sue, my Lyla, and then I'd weave her in to my favorite books. Which is how she ended up Mendenbar's sister, Rand's guardian, Aphrael’s mother, Alannon’s old friend, the keeper of the Staff of Law, and various other things. (bonus points: what five books are those from? Go!) I adopted elements from different books - the Age structure from WoT, for example - until I had assembled the pieces I liked best, and the end result was an amalgam of all my favorite books, and the common theme was Lyla. And the entire purpose of these constructs? To help me fall asleep.
I've continued telling stories to put me to sleep ever since. I have to be truly exhausted to fall asleep without something to distract my brain. The key to the story tell is that is to be easy. I can’t have to think about it, or make decisions for the most part – it needs to flow, I need to know what happens next. But when I was in college, I didn’t have time to read, and Lyla’s been through my old books so many times that it’s hardly any fun anymore, and so a second category of things joined Lyla in these moments: a liberal amount of retelling gaming stories in my head, because it also does the trick. Or at least it did. Which brings me back to insomnia.
I don't normally suffer from insomnia. However, when I get stressed enough or depressed (and right now, I'll admit, I'm some of both) I sometimes have trouble sleeping because my brain just won't shut down. I've tried telling the stories now, but more and more of late they haven't been helping at all. It doesn't help that I've truly and utterly, after 15 years, exhausted the potential for integrating Lyla in to most things; she doesn't fit in non-fantasy books most of the time (though she had a run at Star Trek... ;) ) and the RP I’m doing now isn't passionate enough in my current game to infuse it with the necessary...whatever...for it to do the trick more than briefly. I've rehashed the games that ARE infused enough so many times that, like Lyla, it’s no longer enough.
This problem has been particularly bad in the past week, though it's been building since the summer. What's made it worse this week, I think, is the Hogwarts writing. For now, when I grasp at straws on what to tell myself, my brain very naturally goes to a game infused with passion which is in the front of my mind. However, I've just TOLD most of the story in this regard, and so I start from where I stopped writing that day. Only, I’m running out of material as I write. Which means I do one of two things, neither of which helps me sleep: I either go massively in depth, which amounts to me basically writing my next installment of the story in my head, hence why some days have so much in them; or I begin to hypothesize on what happens after the last session - for as those who played know, the story doesn't have a positive end, in particular for poor Delia, and I've been trying to figure out where the writing will go when I reach the end of "real" events - will I stop? Will I keep going? (at a later point, once I'm closer, I'll take some opinions on this, but there's no need now unless it inspires some deep thoughts. ;) ) And this leads to "new" stories; and whenever I tell a very new or interesting story, it obviously doesn't help me sleep cause I want to know what happens.
Meanwhile, in addition to considering what the fate of the "after the end of the LARP" Hogwarts story, I've been working my way through it steadily (1k to 2k+ of writing every day adds up pretty fast!) and so, since I might NOT be doing more on it, I've begun to go back to thinking about what I want to work on next. The list I have is unchanged, fundamentally, from before; the projects I want to work on are: two works in progress - my Changeling diaries, which are not truly diaries (I finished Kathryn’s actual diary before the game finished) but instead are a barebones retelling of events which I did for my own edification and go through June of 2006 or so; my poetry project; the Sirius Black short story; two ideas I've yet to be able to get to work right - a super hero story and a strangely-structured fantasy novel that'll take a lot of outlining to work right; and the City of Gold and Silver; I’ve also wanted to write up the story of Zebulon Tifton for ages, more game retellings. Going down the line chronologically, then, Changeling comes next.
For about a week, then, I've found myself with an idea that I've been trying to rid myself of. I've been having a BLAST writing up the Hogwarts game. While I'm pretty sure a couple people are reading it, and that makes me really happy, in truth I wouldn't mind if they weren't, it wouldn't stop me, because it's bringing me delight, pure and simple, to write it. That's the rest of why I'm writing so much at a time. The words just flow like they were always there, even though obviously there's much more in what I'm writing than ever could possibly have been in the game. Before I resumed work on it, too, I read every word of what I had written before to get my mind back in the right place and remind myself of what had been going on, and it stirred so many good and happy memories! And all of this joy, all of this ease of writing, had given me the terrible idea that instead of completing my Changeling diaries - repeat, a bare bones account of everything I could remember about what happened in the Changeling games - I should do the same for Kathryn. If the Hogwarts story brings me joy, surely a Changeling story would too. It's good practice, too - I can't help but remember![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
swan_tower's adage that the first million words are crap; the more I write, the more I improve, and writing another "easy" story like the Hogwarts one, where I don't need to worry about plot and can concentrate on description, clarity, characterization, etc., would help me out a lot since these were the areas I felt were lacking in the novel I finished. And I want to write another novel. I'm loving this. So all in all practice is good.
Still, it'd be VERY time consuming; the Hogwarts game was only 5 sessions and 3 interludes; I've only written up 3 1/2 of those sessions and all of the interludes, and it's already 70,000 words. How much longer, then, would the Changeling game, which I played a session and an interlude of almost every month for almost two years! It'd be a monster! It'd take me months! It surely couldn't be worth it. Anyway, why risk upsetting myself? I'm loving writing the Hogwarts game, but it's also making me sad, because of the friends I've left in Bloomington, the games that are over forever, the characters I'll never pick up again, etc.
So I had talked myself out of it. It was tempting, but it was a bad, bad idea.
Until, of course, I was trying to fall asleep last night. And failing. And as I tried to focus my brain, to tell myself whatever story would help me sleep, it settled - not on Hogwarts - but on Changeling; not on the broad sweep of those events, but on the minutiae of Kathryn's first day as a fae - my first interlude. And before I knew it, the story was writing itself. And since I was wide awake anyway, I gave in, I surrendered, resolving to stop when I got tired.
Which was after 6 AM.
It is, as I predicted, going to be a monster. I may not get more done before I finish the Hogwarts story, but I do think I’m gonna do it. Now I just have to decide if, after the current tale is done, I’ll post that one in LJ to. And consider ways of getting other peoples input; I’d love to read other peoples write-ups of old Changeling stuff, too. ;)
Determined to set a good example, I sat still has good be, quiet, eyes straight ahead, hands clasped on the table. The minutes passed slowly, and I filled them by cataloging what ingredients I would need to obtain for the potions I planned to brew over the winter break. My reserves were running low, and a week would be enough time for most potions to properly come together, but I would need to do some shopping, and that would require money, which, thanks to Zonko’s, I had. Very neat, really. I also began to go through the list of potions I knew that had Gryphon scale in it, and picked one or two choice ones to attempt to make. Outside of class, I’d never had access to Gryphon scale before, and it would be great to have the chance to try some of those brews!
Thus in this fashion did I pass the time, and I was pleased with it, until the Aurors from the Ministry of Magic arrived. There were three of them, and all looked severe. They came in to the Great Hall, held whispered conference in the Great Hall, and then two of them went to the teachers lounge – the same room where the Headmaster had told me of my promotion, while the third checked a parchment he was holding.
“Under the authority of Statute 21, clause 4A, I, Auror Thelorius Monkwort, announce the opening of the inquest in to the circumstances surrounding the demise of Auror Maeve Weasley, hereafter called the deceased. Having received assurance that the deceased has died in questionable circumstances, in accordance with the law, investigation will commence with the questioning of witnesses with first knowledge of the habits and activities of the deceased.”
“I will call your names one at a time. When I do, please come forward, surrender your wand and I will escort you in to the room,” he gestured as if we could be in doubt, “and you will be questioned. If,” somehow, Auror Monkwort made it sound like this was really a doubt for each and every one of us, “you are found to have no involvement, your wand will be returned to you and you will be dismissed.” He paused, consulted his paper, and then said, “Marcus Relius.”
Marcus, looking rather surprised, nonetheless immediately proceeded up to the front, surrendered his wand to the Auror, and followed his escort.
Not too terribly long after – I didn’t think it was more than 10 minutes – Auror Monkwort returned. I felt a chill – if they spent that long questioning everyone, it would take most of the night. I felt a dull throb of impending pain from my stiff back – oh, keeping up my postured on wooden benches! – that foretold how very unpleasant that would be. I was spared this, though, as the very next name called was my own. Afterwards, I learned that the Head Boy and Head Girl were called first to make a good example, and the prefects called last for the same reason, and had even more reason to thank my luck than I did at that moment as I went up to the front and surrender my wand with dignity.
My questioning took longer than Marcus’ since I had been a witness to the affair. If it had been particular pleasant, or unpleasant, or onerous, I would recap it here, but in truth retelling it would add little to my account that my original relating of events omitted. They asked me about my relationship with the deceased, what I knew of her, and to retell had had happened in the classroom that day. They asked me a few extra questions I suspected were entirely intended to cause me to slip up if I had told a lie; since I hadn’t done so I simply reiterated what my answers, explained any mistakes I made, and finally Auror Orion – who had been playing the “good guy” all along – escorted me to the back door as Auror Monkwort went to get the next student. He told me, jocularly, that they had wanted to call me early on because the Headmaster had assured them that I would give an honest account of the what happened; I flushed slightly with pride at this very high praise.
The hallway was just as empty as it had been earlier as Auror Orion shook my hand and went back inside, but all the torches were lit and the hallways no longer seemed as scary. I started towards the Ravenclaw common room, thinking perhaps I might still get some work done this evening, but as I rounded the very first corner I walked directly in to Marcus, such that I tumbled to the floor; he had just been moving forward to look anxiously round that same corner.
“I’m sorry,” he exclaimed, very apologetically indeed, “so sorry, here,” and he helped me up and began to help me smooth my skirts out before I blushed very red and he stopped, wiping his hands on his own robes. “Sorry,” he added again; he was blushing too.
“It’s alright,” I replied. “Is everything okay?”
He nodded. “I was waiting for you,” he supplied, “though I had no idea of it being so soon – indeed, given that I was called first, I rather feared that you would be called last, Head Boy and Head Girl on each end, that sort of thing. I would have waited,” he added loyally.
“Well, I’m glad that you don’t have to,” I smiled. “I promised I would explain…” I trailed off, wondering if he wanted that explanation now, and he nodded. So, in whispered tones, I related to him the whole of what I knew of what had happened, leaving nothing out. We sat on a bench just down the hall and talk in whispered tones so that we wouldn’t get caught and punished lingering in the hallways. Every 5 to 10 minutes, a student would go by, and we would both assume the stern air of The Head Boy and The Head Girl and tell them firmly that we were there to make sure they went directly back to their common room, even as we did no such thing ourselves. And for all that we were both rules-followers, we didn’t really suppose that the students listened; the creepy feeling I had felt earlier had shifted slightly in to a feeling of mystery, and somehow I knew that nothing would keep students in their dorm rooms tonight, there was too much fascination in exploring. And if even I felt it, it must have been a powerful urge indeed!
We continued after my initial telling by considering and discarding theories for what had happened. I maintained that Palucid Nox must surely have been involved, and that the Auror’s were wasting their time questioning the Hogwarts students when such as he roamed the school grounds freely. Marcus wasn’t as convinced, but it gave us something to talk about. The fifth student who went by us, meanwhile, was Fred.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, seeing us, “is everything alright?”
“I feel obliged to tell you,” said Marcus in the tone he thought was firm that he always used when he was being The Head Boy, “as your prefect, that it is of the utmost importance that you return to the Hufflepuff dormitory and remain there. This is no night for wandering the castle when murder has been done.”
Instead of hurrying to do mischief out of sight, which is what I was convinced the others had done, Fred instead tilted her head at us and said, “but you haven’t returned to the dorms.”
“Of course not,” I said firmly, “we’re here to tell everyone else to go to the dorms.”
“But…nobody told you to do that,” Fred half asked, half said. It was too much; I broke in to giggles. She joined me. “You’re talking about what happened, aren’t you? Can I join you? Are you going to do something about it? Can I help?”
Marcus and I exchanged looks. “We are talking about it…” Marcus owned with a secretive smile.
“But we certainly weren’t considering ‘doing something about,’” I said, but my tone was speculative. I hadn’t been thinking about doing anything at all, truly, other than talk about it and spin out fantastic theories, but now I was.
When I was young, in late elementary school early middle school times, I had a phobia that caused me a lot of problems: I was afraid of death. Aside from a general unease about graveyards which would have been no big deal, this had several severe side effects. The first was that I was also afraid of the dark. The second was that I'd have terrible nightmares. And third thirds was that, as a result of the previous two and my inability to refrain from equating the oblivion of sleep with the much more permanent oblivion of death, I often had trouble sleeping. (indeed, as I got older I realized that my phobia never was of death, it was always simply of oblivion, and several other things related to oblivion still freak me out)
In order to overcome this, I started making up stories in my head. To begin with these were utter nonsense, but over the years I was in middle school they developed some very set forms. They universally starred what I now recognize as my own Mary Sue, a stunningly beautiful vaguely elven woman, tall and elegant with perfect black hair down to her ankles (though she often wore it in a braid, otherwise it'd be in the way when she fought!); she was an expert fighter with the staff and a broad sword; she was a talented wizardess, sort of; she was immortal; and she was angsty, as only immortals can be. I would read things, and I would pick at the stories until I found a way to integrate my Mary Sue, my Lyla, and then I'd weave her in to my favorite books. Which is how she ended up Mendenbar's sister, Rand's guardian, Aphrael’s mother, Alannon’s old friend, the keeper of the Staff of Law, and various other things. (bonus points: what five books are those from? Go!) I adopted elements from different books - the Age structure from WoT, for example - until I had assembled the pieces I liked best, and the end result was an amalgam of all my favorite books, and the common theme was Lyla. And the entire purpose of these constructs? To help me fall asleep.
I've continued telling stories to put me to sleep ever since. I have to be truly exhausted to fall asleep without something to distract my brain. The key to the story tell is that is to be easy. I can’t have to think about it, or make decisions for the most part – it needs to flow, I need to know what happens next. But when I was in college, I didn’t have time to read, and Lyla’s been through my old books so many times that it’s hardly any fun anymore, and so a second category of things joined Lyla in these moments: a liberal amount of retelling gaming stories in my head, because it also does the trick. Or at least it did. Which brings me back to insomnia.
I don't normally suffer from insomnia. However, when I get stressed enough or depressed (and right now, I'll admit, I'm some of both) I sometimes have trouble sleeping because my brain just won't shut down. I've tried telling the stories now, but more and more of late they haven't been helping at all. It doesn't help that I've truly and utterly, after 15 years, exhausted the potential for integrating Lyla in to most things; she doesn't fit in non-fantasy books most of the time (though she had a run at Star Trek... ;) ) and the RP I’m doing now isn't passionate enough in my current game to infuse it with the necessary...whatever...for it to do the trick more than briefly. I've rehashed the games that ARE infused enough so many times that, like Lyla, it’s no longer enough.
This problem has been particularly bad in the past week, though it's been building since the summer. What's made it worse this week, I think, is the Hogwarts writing. For now, when I grasp at straws on what to tell myself, my brain very naturally goes to a game infused with passion which is in the front of my mind. However, I've just TOLD most of the story in this regard, and so I start from where I stopped writing that day. Only, I’m running out of material as I write. Which means I do one of two things, neither of which helps me sleep: I either go massively in depth, which amounts to me basically writing my next installment of the story in my head, hence why some days have so much in them; or I begin to hypothesize on what happens after the last session - for as those who played know, the story doesn't have a positive end, in particular for poor Delia, and I've been trying to figure out where the writing will go when I reach the end of "real" events - will I stop? Will I keep going? (at a later point, once I'm closer, I'll take some opinions on this, but there's no need now unless it inspires some deep thoughts. ;) ) And this leads to "new" stories; and whenever I tell a very new or interesting story, it obviously doesn't help me sleep cause I want to know what happens.
Meanwhile, in addition to considering what the fate of the "after the end of the LARP" Hogwarts story, I've been working my way through it steadily (1k to 2k+ of writing every day adds up pretty fast!) and so, since I might NOT be doing more on it, I've begun to go back to thinking about what I want to work on next. The list I have is unchanged, fundamentally, from before; the projects I want to work on are: two works in progress - my Changeling diaries, which are not truly diaries (I finished Kathryn’s actual diary before the game finished) but instead are a barebones retelling of events which I did for my own edification and go through June of 2006 or so; my poetry project; the Sirius Black short story; two ideas I've yet to be able to get to work right - a super hero story and a strangely-structured fantasy novel that'll take a lot of outlining to work right; and the City of Gold and Silver; I’ve also wanted to write up the story of Zebulon Tifton for ages, more game retellings. Going down the line chronologically, then, Changeling comes next.
For about a week, then, I've found myself with an idea that I've been trying to rid myself of. I've been having a BLAST writing up the Hogwarts game. While I'm pretty sure a couple people are reading it, and that makes me really happy, in truth I wouldn't mind if they weren't, it wouldn't stop me, because it's bringing me delight, pure and simple, to write it. That's the rest of why I'm writing so much at a time. The words just flow like they were always there, even though obviously there's much more in what I'm writing than ever could possibly have been in the game. Before I resumed work on it, too, I read every word of what I had written before to get my mind back in the right place and remind myself of what had been going on, and it stirred so many good and happy memories! And all of this joy, all of this ease of writing, had given me the terrible idea that instead of completing my Changeling diaries - repeat, a bare bones account of everything I could remember about what happened in the Changeling games - I should do the same for Kathryn. If the Hogwarts story brings me joy, surely a Changeling story would too. It's good practice, too - I can't help but remember
swan_tower's adage that the first million words are crap; the more I write, the more I improve, and writing another "easy" story like the Hogwarts one, where I don't need to worry about plot and can concentrate on description, clarity, characterization, etc., would help me out a lot since these were the areas I felt were lacking in the novel I finished. And I want to write another novel. I'm loving this. So all in all practice is good.Still, it'd be VERY time consuming; the Hogwarts game was only 5 sessions and 3 interludes; I've only written up 3 1/2 of those sessions and all of the interludes, and it's already 70,000 words. How much longer, then, would the Changeling game, which I played a session and an interlude of almost every month for almost two years! It'd be a monster! It'd take me months! It surely couldn't be worth it. Anyway, why risk upsetting myself? I'm loving writing the Hogwarts game, but it's also making me sad, because of the friends I've left in Bloomington, the games that are over forever, the characters I'll never pick up again, etc.
So I had talked myself out of it. It was tempting, but it was a bad, bad idea.
Until, of course, I was trying to fall asleep last night. And failing. And as I tried to focus my brain, to tell myself whatever story would help me sleep, it settled - not on Hogwarts - but on Changeling; not on the broad sweep of those events, but on the minutiae of Kathryn's first day as a fae - my first interlude. And before I knew it, the story was writing itself. And since I was wide awake anyway, I gave in, I surrendered, resolving to stop when I got tired.
Which was after 6 AM.
It is, as I predicted, going to be a monster. I may not get more done before I finish the Hogwarts story, but I do think I’m gonna do it. Now I just have to decide if, after the current tale is done, I’ll post that one in LJ to. And consider ways of getting other peoples input; I’d love to read other peoples write-ups of old Changeling stuff, too. ;)
Determined to set a good example, I sat still has good be, quiet, eyes straight ahead, hands clasped on the table. The minutes passed slowly, and I filled them by cataloging what ingredients I would need to obtain for the potions I planned to brew over the winter break. My reserves were running low, and a week would be enough time for most potions to properly come together, but I would need to do some shopping, and that would require money, which, thanks to Zonko’s, I had. Very neat, really. I also began to go through the list of potions I knew that had Gryphon scale in it, and picked one or two choice ones to attempt to make. Outside of class, I’d never had access to Gryphon scale before, and it would be great to have the chance to try some of those brews!
Thus in this fashion did I pass the time, and I was pleased with it, until the Aurors from the Ministry of Magic arrived. There were three of them, and all looked severe. They came in to the Great Hall, held whispered conference in the Great Hall, and then two of them went to the teachers lounge – the same room where the Headmaster had told me of my promotion, while the third checked a parchment he was holding.
“Under the authority of Statute 21, clause 4A, I, Auror Thelorius Monkwort, announce the opening of the inquest in to the circumstances surrounding the demise of Auror Maeve Weasley, hereafter called the deceased. Having received assurance that the deceased has died in questionable circumstances, in accordance with the law, investigation will commence with the questioning of witnesses with first knowledge of the habits and activities of the deceased.”
“I will call your names one at a time. When I do, please come forward, surrender your wand and I will escort you in to the room,” he gestured as if we could be in doubt, “and you will be questioned. If,” somehow, Auror Monkwort made it sound like this was really a doubt for each and every one of us, “you are found to have no involvement, your wand will be returned to you and you will be dismissed.” He paused, consulted his paper, and then said, “Marcus Relius.”
Marcus, looking rather surprised, nonetheless immediately proceeded up to the front, surrendered his wand to the Auror, and followed his escort.
Not too terribly long after – I didn’t think it was more than 10 minutes – Auror Monkwort returned. I felt a chill – if they spent that long questioning everyone, it would take most of the night. I felt a dull throb of impending pain from my stiff back – oh, keeping up my postured on wooden benches! – that foretold how very unpleasant that would be. I was spared this, though, as the very next name called was my own. Afterwards, I learned that the Head Boy and Head Girl were called first to make a good example, and the prefects called last for the same reason, and had even more reason to thank my luck than I did at that moment as I went up to the front and surrender my wand with dignity.
My questioning took longer than Marcus’ since I had been a witness to the affair. If it had been particular pleasant, or unpleasant, or onerous, I would recap it here, but in truth retelling it would add little to my account that my original relating of events omitted. They asked me about my relationship with the deceased, what I knew of her, and to retell had had happened in the classroom that day. They asked me a few extra questions I suspected were entirely intended to cause me to slip up if I had told a lie; since I hadn’t done so I simply reiterated what my answers, explained any mistakes I made, and finally Auror Orion – who had been playing the “good guy” all along – escorted me to the back door as Auror Monkwort went to get the next student. He told me, jocularly, that they had wanted to call me early on because the Headmaster had assured them that I would give an honest account of the what happened; I flushed slightly with pride at this very high praise.
The hallway was just as empty as it had been earlier as Auror Orion shook my hand and went back inside, but all the torches were lit and the hallways no longer seemed as scary. I started towards the Ravenclaw common room, thinking perhaps I might still get some work done this evening, but as I rounded the very first corner I walked directly in to Marcus, such that I tumbled to the floor; he had just been moving forward to look anxiously round that same corner.
“I’m sorry,” he exclaimed, very apologetically indeed, “so sorry, here,” and he helped me up and began to help me smooth my skirts out before I blushed very red and he stopped, wiping his hands on his own robes. “Sorry,” he added again; he was blushing too.
“It’s alright,” I replied. “Is everything okay?”
He nodded. “I was waiting for you,” he supplied, “though I had no idea of it being so soon – indeed, given that I was called first, I rather feared that you would be called last, Head Boy and Head Girl on each end, that sort of thing. I would have waited,” he added loyally.
“Well, I’m glad that you don’t have to,” I smiled. “I promised I would explain…” I trailed off, wondering if he wanted that explanation now, and he nodded. So, in whispered tones, I related to him the whole of what I knew of what had happened, leaving nothing out. We sat on a bench just down the hall and talk in whispered tones so that we wouldn’t get caught and punished lingering in the hallways. Every 5 to 10 minutes, a student would go by, and we would both assume the stern air of The Head Boy and The Head Girl and tell them firmly that we were there to make sure they went directly back to their common room, even as we did no such thing ourselves. And for all that we were both rules-followers, we didn’t really suppose that the students listened; the creepy feeling I had felt earlier had shifted slightly in to a feeling of mystery, and somehow I knew that nothing would keep students in their dorm rooms tonight, there was too much fascination in exploring. And if even I felt it, it must have been a powerful urge indeed!
We continued after my initial telling by considering and discarding theories for what had happened. I maintained that Palucid Nox must surely have been involved, and that the Auror’s were wasting their time questioning the Hogwarts students when such as he roamed the school grounds freely. Marcus wasn’t as convinced, but it gave us something to talk about. The fifth student who went by us, meanwhile, was Fred.
“Oh!” she exclaimed, seeing us, “is everything alright?”
“I feel obliged to tell you,” said Marcus in the tone he thought was firm that he always used when he was being The Head Boy, “as your prefect, that it is of the utmost importance that you return to the Hufflepuff dormitory and remain there. This is no night for wandering the castle when murder has been done.”
Instead of hurrying to do mischief out of sight, which is what I was convinced the others had done, Fred instead tilted her head at us and said, “but you haven’t returned to the dorms.”
“Of course not,” I said firmly, “we’re here to tell everyone else to go to the dorms.”
“But…nobody told you to do that,” Fred half asked, half said. It was too much; I broke in to giggles. She joined me. “You’re talking about what happened, aren’t you? Can I join you? Are you going to do something about it? Can I help?”
Marcus and I exchanged looks. “We are talking about it…” Marcus owned with a secretive smile.
“But we certainly weren’t considering ‘doing something about,’” I said, but my tone was speculative. I hadn’t been thinking about doing anything at all, truly, other than talk about it and spin out fantastic theories, but now I was.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-11-25 03:59 am (UTC)I am behind on reading these, by the way, which is why I hadn't posted. I shall catch up tonight.
-K
no subject
Date: 2007-11-25 02:01 pm (UTC)I'll be in Indiana from the 10th through the 16th of December. Any chance of seeing you? I'll come up to Chicago...
no subject
Date: 2007-11-26 11:51 am (UTC)only because it's about storytelling . . .
Date: 2007-11-26 12:14 pm (UTC)plus, whenever the next round of novel in 90 starts, i'll be joining. i'm just not sure which outline to procede with. i have a few days to decide.
hope you are feeling better and i thought of something too that you can spy with your few remaining days in japan: have you seen any art books by the author of Vampire Knight and Meru Peri? it hit me last night while i was cleaning up the spare bedroom and alphebetizing the manga. *huggles*
Re: only because it's about storytelling . . .
Date: 2007-11-26 12:29 pm (UTC)Hm...well, in addition to MeruPuri and Vampire Knight (which is up to 6 volumes in Japan), she's written a one shot called "Wanted," and "Toraware no Mi no Ue," which is 5 volumes. Okay, the answer is no, there isn't one. If there was, I'm pretty sure it'd be listed on amazon.co.jp, and it's not - she's pretty popular right now. Sorry...
And I like rehashing games in my head, it helps me remember them and it's kind of comforting.
As to the next round of Ni90, you've got some time - by common consent the next round won't be starting until January 1st, thereby being a memorable date and bypassing everyone's busy holiday seasons.
no subject
Date: 2007-11-27 12:20 am (UTC)All in all, that sounds pretty awesome. I mean, I think it's funny that Teneb - who is, despite being a lamer, pretty definitely NOT one of the more evil members of the party, ends up as the sinister one, and I'm not sure, given how the dealings have been going, that Solomen could resist his inner demons, but all of it adds up to an awesome story, which is really all that matters. ;)
What about Kilik and Devlin? Cause you know...we're awesome...
no subject
Date: 2007-11-27 10:09 pm (UTC)But I would love to read it...
PS your stuff arrived and has been put with Sid's costume for your claiming.
I am sooo very excited to see you!!!!
no subject
Date: 2007-11-28 09:16 am (UTC)The Hogwarts I've been writing has very few spoilers in it, because it's set about 90 years before the events of the books, but I'm not sure I'd recommend it anyway - just like most game writing, it's pretty much masturbation for the writer and the other players. ;) Not that there is anything wrong with that, but I suspect it's of limited interest to the general reading public.
I would LOVE it if you (and