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Hogwarts
Brain kind of fried, but I finished with today's tasks and so was able to get this done. Yay.
December 1st marks the start of 31 days of "limbo" over at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
novel_in_90. Since by common consensus we're not starting the new round until 1/1/08, we're just sort of puttering along without the 90 goal for the month. Personally? I'd like to finish the Hogwarts story during that time. This leads to some interesting thoughts.
The Hogwarts game, when it ran, went for 5 sessions in it's core. After that, there was a "side story," but I was an ST for it so I didn't play Delia and she wasn't in the events that took place. The story as it is ends very badly for my poor character, too. And there's pretty much no resolution of the main plotline.
I've got one more game's worth of materials to write, and then ...that's it. As such, I've been thinking more and more about what to do. The ideas I have are:
1. to just leave it. I mean, that's the end, then that's the end, and it can't be helped.
2. continue! Make up more!
Increasingly, I'm inclined towards option 2, though I think I'll take a break in between, since the story is already the length of a novel (formatted "normally" it's 240 pages long!! gah!) and I think I'll need a break. However, I've been trying to think where to go from here. So...well, I don't know if anyone reading this cares, but if they do I'd love some opinions. Since I can't imagine any one who didn't play IS reading it, then the folks who are know what is to come. I was thinking that the most reasonable "next step" from where the story left off would be the retaking of Hogwarts, followed by the defeat of Palucid Nox. I've had some thoughts on how to accomplish this, too. But I still haven't completely decided to do anything at all, so...well, if anyone has ideas, I'd love to hear them. :)
Today's was kind of fun, because I got to wrestle with the Black Family Tree, to attempt to sneak us in as best I could. It worked out better than I anticipated, too, I only had to add one daughter to the family, and shift who was Phineas by one generation, and get his new id to not be disowned. I'm glad of it, in truth - I like things like this better when they fit in relatively neatly, it feels more like cheating when you have to rip apart canon to do what you want. ;) It'd not have been possible but that the "real" Phineas Nigellus had a son named Phineas who didn't marry, making it utter simplicity to make it that "our" Phineas was actually that guy - necessary to make later events go the way the should...er...did.
The following morning, I hastily packed, my parents made a great fuss, Alasdair decided – pleasantly – not to deign to accompany us on our errand though he had the day off because it was Christmas Eve, and soon enough we were making our way by carriage towards the Inn that marked the entrance to the alley.
Everyone was frightfully punctual, such that at the designated time both parties arrived at largely the same moment at the correct spot. Marcus politely introduced his parents, and I introduced mine, and for a moment a truly awkward silence reigned. This was broken, however, but the enthusiasm of both Marcus’ father and his step-mother, who gushed about how pleased they were to meet me (or, in his father’s case, to meet me again) and to meet my parents, and seeing as it was lunch time might we not all go out someplace? No surprises there.
I will not attempt to replicate the contents of the conversation that afternoon. Indeed, I scarcely remember them but that I found much of it rather embarrassing and upsetting. Much like Marcus’ himself, his parents were outgoing, cheerful, unreserved people. My parents, on the other hand, are the height of proper decorum. The result was something like mixing oil and water. I truly don’t think that any of the parties involved disliked the others, but my parents quiet made his parents concerned that they were making a bad impression, and his parents’ vivre caused my parents a high degree of discomfort, for they simply didn’t know how to respond to it. Marcus and I, of course, did our best to smooth things over. Strangely, it would be the only time our parents would ever meet. Or perhaps I shouldn’t say such things, for they cast such a light on the events to come.
After the meal, my parents left to shop the Alley, with mentions of all of the different ideas my mother had concocted the previous day of what shopping they intended to do, and we left, for they had already completed their shopping before lunch. Another carriage took us through the streets of the city, which were thronged with muggles completing last minute preparations for the holidays. Indeed, now that it was later in the day, the roads were so busy that we eventually gave up, deciding it would be faster to walk than it was to ride, and made our way through the streets past all the smiling people, window shoppers, happy couples, all decked out in their winters’ finest to enjoy the Christmas cheer.
The house at which we arrived was on a smart little circle in a refined neighborhood. It was a townhouse, one in a line of identical homes which snuggled up close to each other. A fancy plaque on the row read “Grimmauld Place,” and the building in question was number 12. While many of the homes bore wreaths, garlands, and tinsel to mark the holiday, number 12 had nothing but a small red bow which someone had seen fit to tie on the knocker. We didn’t bother to knock, though, since Marcus was of the family and we were expected, having already spent the night. His parents dropped us off; as neither of them were Black’s, they were themselves spending the Christmas day with the Relious’ family instead.
As is so often the case with wizard homes, the building was noticeably larger on the inside than on the outside, and bore all the signs of being home to wizards of the very finest sort. The hallways were lined with portraits of stern old wizards and witches who primly watched anyone who went by; one staircase was adorned with the heads of former house elves, which I thought might perhaps be one of the most grotesque displays I had ever seen. Not a piece of furniture but was of the highest quality and richest make, and the whole place reeked of money, austerity, and superiority. If it hadn’t been for a modest dose of Yuletide joy to modulate it, I think I would not have liked it. As it was, though, Grandfather Black – who, I learned, was named Phineas Nigellus, strangely, or perhaps not strangely – for all his pride, seemed to rather like Christmas, and so a tree had been set up, and the banisters had been – tastefully – ringed with evergreen, and the whole home was warmly lit.
A rather large number of people currently inhabited the residence. Children scampered about playfully, as if they had no sense whatsoever of the somewhat oppressive air surrounding it, and the adults, though they frowned, didn’t make any effort to stop it. Grandmother Black had died some years previously, but Grandfather Black’s brother, Greatuncle Sirius and sister, Great Aunt Elladora, were both present. Neither had married, though. Grandfather and Grandmother, on the other hand, had been more than prolific enough to make up for this; they had 6 children, all but two a son, and all but one married. Marcus’ mother, one of the two daughters, had died, but all the rest were here. The one unmarried was the more familiar Phineas Nigellus, the headmaster. The others – who were all present – had all brought their own children, as well, with the result that Blacks and Burkes – the daughter’s married name – surrounded me on every side. The family tradition, meanwhile, of giving children the name names rendered this exercise utterly confusing. I was soon so overwhelmed by Sirius’, Phineas’, Cygnus’, Regulus’, and Arcturus’ that I wondered if I had not perhaps been sent out in to space to play among the stars; the daughters were no easier. It was only good breeding that kept me from utter embarrassment.
Marcus, perhaps sensing that I was slightly nonplussed by this rather large number of people, took me on a tour of the house. Afterwards, we rejoined the family, and I avoided the majority of them by speaking with the Headmaster about potions. I had never seen him outside of school before, and of course I liked him very much even normally, but outside of Hogwarts he seemed such that I could say that I think others would have found him more likeable in general. When he didn’t have to constantly assert his authority, he was a bit more relaxed. We talked of work entirely, and I was left with the sad feeling that whoever had chosen Phineas Nigellus as headmaster of Hogwarts had done every involved party a terrible disservice; the Headmaster would have preferred to work, and the students certainly didn’t appreciate him. Oh, I despaired to think how many potions his great brain might have uncovered and brewed had he not had to worry about administration!
Eventually, though, I had to mingle with the others. It was, to say the least, a somewhat awkward situation. While Grandfather Black had been very fond of Marcus’ mother, his youngest child, some of the others clearly thought that Marcus’ family had no place here now that she had died, and considered the Relious’ family rather like my parents had – as blood traitors. Most had the good taste not to show this disapproval openly, or at least the intelligence not to let it been seen in front of Grandfather Black, but that didn’t change the fact that there were still oh so many little ways in which it came out. Marcus was completely oblivious to all of it as far as I could tell, though, and spent most of his time with the children. Due to random chance, not a one of them was of an age where they were at school with us – they were all either younger by a few years or older by a few years. I did my best to make the rounds among the adults, and therefore spent the majority of the day being sized up. No matter how they felt, Grandfather Black said that Marcus was a Black, which meant that his spouse would also be a Black, no matter what their last name actually was. And every single one wanted to be sure that I was worthy of the Black name. They asked me about my parentage, the approved of the Prince lineage. They asked me about my knowledge of spells and magic, they inquired heavily in to my breeding – though usually subtly by asking testing questions like, “isn’t the Prince family related to the Yaxley’s?” and expecting me to be able to unhesitatingly state the degree of relationship accurately – and generally found every way they could to determine my suitability. I rose to every challenge as best I could, and by the end of the day I was thoroughly exhausted, rather annoyed with almost everyone present, and glad that I had at least three people who I could talk to for, in addition to Marcus and the Headmaster, the Grandfather seemed to have taken to approving of me vocally. This, I must say, was an infinite relief. I had been terribly concerned that my parents oversight would convince the old man that I was not worthy of his name or his grandson, but that did not seem to be the case. In fact, apparently I was far superior to my parents in every conceivable way. I didn’t argue.
Christmas day was, thankfully, far more pleasant. Everyone was more relaxed, and the delight of the children at their present was contagious. I think, perhaps, the egg nog helped as well. But whatever the cause, I had a genuinely good time. Best of all, in all of the hubbub of activity, Marcus and I were able to steal some unchaperoned time, during which we talked and, in a fit of naughtiness, carved our initials into a banister on the topmost staircase landing, covering our crime with a wreath. I also spent more time with the Headmaster, and had one very challenging – for I had to be on my best behavior! – conversation with Grandfather Black which seemed to imply that he would approve the match if his permission was asked. That was a relief. The Headmaster, I thought, was also spending a great deal of time watching us, as if he had never before noticed that Marcus and I were close enough that I might be invited to Christmas dinner, and wondering what it might signify. His questions indicated his concern, and I’ll admit to being flattered.
December 1st marks the start of 31 days of "limbo" over at
novel_in_90. Since by common consensus we're not starting the new round until 1/1/08, we're just sort of puttering along without the 90 goal for the month. Personally? I'd like to finish the Hogwarts story during that time. This leads to some interesting thoughts.The Hogwarts game, when it ran, went for 5 sessions in it's core. After that, there was a "side story," but I was an ST for it so I didn't play Delia and she wasn't in the events that took place. The story as it is ends very badly for my poor character, too. And there's pretty much no resolution of the main plotline.
I've got one more game's worth of materials to write, and then ...that's it. As such, I've been thinking more and more about what to do. The ideas I have are:
1. to just leave it. I mean, that's the end, then that's the end, and it can't be helped.
2. continue! Make up more!
Increasingly, I'm inclined towards option 2, though I think I'll take a break in between, since the story is already the length of a novel (formatted "normally" it's 240 pages long!! gah!) and I think I'll need a break. However, I've been trying to think where to go from here. So...well, I don't know if anyone reading this cares, but if they do I'd love some opinions. Since I can't imagine any one who didn't play IS reading it, then the folks who are know what is to come. I was thinking that the most reasonable "next step" from where the story left off would be the retaking of Hogwarts, followed by the defeat of Palucid Nox. I've had some thoughts on how to accomplish this, too. But I still haven't completely decided to do anything at all, so...well, if anyone has ideas, I'd love to hear them. :)
Today's was kind of fun, because I got to wrestle with the Black Family Tree, to attempt to sneak us in as best I could. It worked out better than I anticipated, too, I only had to add one daughter to the family, and shift who was Phineas by one generation, and get his new id to not be disowned. I'm glad of it, in truth - I like things like this better when they fit in relatively neatly, it feels more like cheating when you have to rip apart canon to do what you want. ;) It'd not have been possible but that the "real" Phineas Nigellus had a son named Phineas who didn't marry, making it utter simplicity to make it that "our" Phineas was actually that guy - necessary to make later events go the way the should...er...did.
The following morning, I hastily packed, my parents made a great fuss, Alasdair decided – pleasantly – not to deign to accompany us on our errand though he had the day off because it was Christmas Eve, and soon enough we were making our way by carriage towards the Inn that marked the entrance to the alley.
Everyone was frightfully punctual, such that at the designated time both parties arrived at largely the same moment at the correct spot. Marcus politely introduced his parents, and I introduced mine, and for a moment a truly awkward silence reigned. This was broken, however, but the enthusiasm of both Marcus’ father and his step-mother, who gushed about how pleased they were to meet me (or, in his father’s case, to meet me again) and to meet my parents, and seeing as it was lunch time might we not all go out someplace? No surprises there.
I will not attempt to replicate the contents of the conversation that afternoon. Indeed, I scarcely remember them but that I found much of it rather embarrassing and upsetting. Much like Marcus’ himself, his parents were outgoing, cheerful, unreserved people. My parents, on the other hand, are the height of proper decorum. The result was something like mixing oil and water. I truly don’t think that any of the parties involved disliked the others, but my parents quiet made his parents concerned that they were making a bad impression, and his parents’ vivre caused my parents a high degree of discomfort, for they simply didn’t know how to respond to it. Marcus and I, of course, did our best to smooth things over. Strangely, it would be the only time our parents would ever meet. Or perhaps I shouldn’t say such things, for they cast such a light on the events to come.
After the meal, my parents left to shop the Alley, with mentions of all of the different ideas my mother had concocted the previous day of what shopping they intended to do, and we left, for they had already completed their shopping before lunch. Another carriage took us through the streets of the city, which were thronged with muggles completing last minute preparations for the holidays. Indeed, now that it was later in the day, the roads were so busy that we eventually gave up, deciding it would be faster to walk than it was to ride, and made our way through the streets past all the smiling people, window shoppers, happy couples, all decked out in their winters’ finest to enjoy the Christmas cheer.
The house at which we arrived was on a smart little circle in a refined neighborhood. It was a townhouse, one in a line of identical homes which snuggled up close to each other. A fancy plaque on the row read “Grimmauld Place,” and the building in question was number 12. While many of the homes bore wreaths, garlands, and tinsel to mark the holiday, number 12 had nothing but a small red bow which someone had seen fit to tie on the knocker. We didn’t bother to knock, though, since Marcus was of the family and we were expected, having already spent the night. His parents dropped us off; as neither of them were Black’s, they were themselves spending the Christmas day with the Relious’ family instead.
As is so often the case with wizard homes, the building was noticeably larger on the inside than on the outside, and bore all the signs of being home to wizards of the very finest sort. The hallways were lined with portraits of stern old wizards and witches who primly watched anyone who went by; one staircase was adorned with the heads of former house elves, which I thought might perhaps be one of the most grotesque displays I had ever seen. Not a piece of furniture but was of the highest quality and richest make, and the whole place reeked of money, austerity, and superiority. If it hadn’t been for a modest dose of Yuletide joy to modulate it, I think I would not have liked it. As it was, though, Grandfather Black – who, I learned, was named Phineas Nigellus, strangely, or perhaps not strangely – for all his pride, seemed to rather like Christmas, and so a tree had been set up, and the banisters had been – tastefully – ringed with evergreen, and the whole home was warmly lit.
A rather large number of people currently inhabited the residence. Children scampered about playfully, as if they had no sense whatsoever of the somewhat oppressive air surrounding it, and the adults, though they frowned, didn’t make any effort to stop it. Grandmother Black had died some years previously, but Grandfather Black’s brother, Greatuncle Sirius and sister, Great Aunt Elladora, were both present. Neither had married, though. Grandfather and Grandmother, on the other hand, had been more than prolific enough to make up for this; they had 6 children, all but two a son, and all but one married. Marcus’ mother, one of the two daughters, had died, but all the rest were here. The one unmarried was the more familiar Phineas Nigellus, the headmaster. The others – who were all present – had all brought their own children, as well, with the result that Blacks and Burkes – the daughter’s married name – surrounded me on every side. The family tradition, meanwhile, of giving children the name names rendered this exercise utterly confusing. I was soon so overwhelmed by Sirius’, Phineas’, Cygnus’, Regulus’, and Arcturus’ that I wondered if I had not perhaps been sent out in to space to play among the stars; the daughters were no easier. It was only good breeding that kept me from utter embarrassment.
Marcus, perhaps sensing that I was slightly nonplussed by this rather large number of people, took me on a tour of the house. Afterwards, we rejoined the family, and I avoided the majority of them by speaking with the Headmaster about potions. I had never seen him outside of school before, and of course I liked him very much even normally, but outside of Hogwarts he seemed such that I could say that I think others would have found him more likeable in general. When he didn’t have to constantly assert his authority, he was a bit more relaxed. We talked of work entirely, and I was left with the sad feeling that whoever had chosen Phineas Nigellus as headmaster of Hogwarts had done every involved party a terrible disservice; the Headmaster would have preferred to work, and the students certainly didn’t appreciate him. Oh, I despaired to think how many potions his great brain might have uncovered and brewed had he not had to worry about administration!
Eventually, though, I had to mingle with the others. It was, to say the least, a somewhat awkward situation. While Grandfather Black had been very fond of Marcus’ mother, his youngest child, some of the others clearly thought that Marcus’ family had no place here now that she had died, and considered the Relious’ family rather like my parents had – as blood traitors. Most had the good taste not to show this disapproval openly, or at least the intelligence not to let it been seen in front of Grandfather Black, but that didn’t change the fact that there were still oh so many little ways in which it came out. Marcus was completely oblivious to all of it as far as I could tell, though, and spent most of his time with the children. Due to random chance, not a one of them was of an age where they were at school with us – they were all either younger by a few years or older by a few years. I did my best to make the rounds among the adults, and therefore spent the majority of the day being sized up. No matter how they felt, Grandfather Black said that Marcus was a Black, which meant that his spouse would also be a Black, no matter what their last name actually was. And every single one wanted to be sure that I was worthy of the Black name. They asked me about my parentage, the approved of the Prince lineage. They asked me about my knowledge of spells and magic, they inquired heavily in to my breeding – though usually subtly by asking testing questions like, “isn’t the Prince family related to the Yaxley’s?” and expecting me to be able to unhesitatingly state the degree of relationship accurately – and generally found every way they could to determine my suitability. I rose to every challenge as best I could, and by the end of the day I was thoroughly exhausted, rather annoyed with almost everyone present, and glad that I had at least three people who I could talk to for, in addition to Marcus and the Headmaster, the Grandfather seemed to have taken to approving of me vocally. This, I must say, was an infinite relief. I had been terribly concerned that my parents oversight would convince the old man that I was not worthy of his name or his grandson, but that did not seem to be the case. In fact, apparently I was far superior to my parents in every conceivable way. I didn’t argue.
Christmas day was, thankfully, far more pleasant. Everyone was more relaxed, and the delight of the children at their present was contagious. I think, perhaps, the egg nog helped as well. But whatever the cause, I had a genuinely good time. Best of all, in all of the hubbub of activity, Marcus and I were able to steal some unchaperoned time, during which we talked and, in a fit of naughtiness, carved our initials into a banister on the topmost staircase landing, covering our crime with a wreath. I also spent more time with the Headmaster, and had one very challenging – for I had to be on my best behavior! – conversation with Grandfather Black which seemed to imply that he would approve the match if his permission was asked. That was a relief. The Headmaster, I thought, was also spending a great deal of time watching us, as if he had never before noticed that Marcus and I were close enough that I might be invited to Christmas dinner, and wondering what it might signify. His questions indicated his concern, and I’ll admit to being flattered.
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Oh and visit www.margaretsworld.com/litm for the site. Us STs are having our first meeting this month - then game launch in January!!
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I remember me you and Kendra had also made some suppositions as to what happens after Deliea has her run in with tragedy (something about eventualy developing Lupin's potion and having a happily ever after anyways).
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And I'm definitely including stuff in relationship to Delia's particular problems, and that'll make it in to what I right now. It's what hypothetically comes after that, in terms of meta plot, that I'm wondering about.