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Drained
Well, I just hit "send" on the e-mail with everything I had to do for the grant that I was lead on. We've been writing two Teaching American History grants due on Monday; I was lead on the one for G. and mom was on the one for P. Things were going okay until mom got sicker and sicker, so I've worked almost 20 hours in the last two days to pick up the slack. I completely overhauled mom's and got her final draft together while she was too sick to get out of bed. After I finished hers I did all of the pieces that remained of my own - which was a lot more than hers. She only agreed to write the main narrative and a couple other supporting documents for P. I'm much stupider than that, and as a result though I didn't put it all together the e-mail I just sent contained 12 documents, many of which I wrote from scratch or near scratch, and probably about 40 pages of writing. (after being edited for length extensively)
It feels a little silly that my first thought on feeling drained is to babble on my LJ, but there have been some interesting parts to this whole thing and I want to detox. Still, thinking over what I'd say, it's really not appropriate for me to do so, and talk about clients, in my LJ, so I guess I'll just have to babble to myself. :) I'll probably have to put out fires tomorrow, so I'm not exactly done, but it hardly matters anyway since now I have to catch up on the packing and moving.
I'm so glad I'm at least nominally finished. Maybe I can get some sleep tonight. I'm starting to feel sooooo tired. I'm not sure I'll get any writing done today, but if I do, I'll append it to this post.
Edit: Add "Beat Final Fantasy XII" to my list of accomplishments for the day - I only had the final dungeon left and haven't had time to play in two weeks, but I was determined to do it before I left, and now it's done. And only leading men can steal my heart - oh, be still! :)
Somehow. I'm not actually that happy with todays, but I think I'll just press on and fix it in an edit run at some point in the future - two of the most emotionally effecting scenes in the game for me made it in to today, but I think they lacked punch in this retelling, mostly cause I'm exhausted.
The hush that greeted the Headmasters words was absolute. Stunned expressions painted most faces, but mine was not that only one that showed resolve, either. Indeed, I could see the faces of who would defend the school by those that showed that determination. Guillermo Patil, and Lycia Gringott; Celestine, and Deletrious Grindlewald. Katrina, the Lunari’s, James Ferguson, and the insipid little Alexis Crowley. A few others, fourth and fifth years I didn’t know, all of the school Prefects. Perhaps 15 students in all, no more than 20 I thought. And me. And Marcus. I stood up. “Prefects,” I said in a ringing voice, “gather your houses.” The Headmaster nodded and sat down. And all around the room movement began, deliberately, purposefully, orders being called, commands given, people organizing. Most moved towards the door, to gather what belongings they could while Professor Lindelthwaite prepared this gateway. The resolved faces moved forward.
Marcus was at my side, and he took my hand now. “I think…” he met my eyes with sorrow. “I will join the sky group.” He spoke firmly. How brave he was, how dashing! “I have fought these zeppelins before, and it is where I can do the most good.”
“And I will fight on the ground,” I said a little sadly, “because potions are of no use against zeppelins, but will be of great use against werewolves.” We exchanged sad smiles, and joined the short queues in front of our respective Professor. Soon enough, I was in the front; Lycia, Caius, Deletrious and Celestine were the only students who had gone to Professor Patronius; the rest had spoken to Professor Tremens.
He gathered us all up together. “None of you have to stay,” he said firmly, “especially the girls. Are you certain?” None of us budged an inch. The professor nodded. “Very well. Get what you need in order. Dark falls in two hours. In 30 minutes, we will meet on the East turret over the door, facing the Forbidden Forest, and prepare our strategy. Bring your brooms.” And he walked off purposefully. For a moment, the five of us – I almost laughed hysterically, 5 students, 3 of them girls, to defend against an army of werewolves! – stood there, baffled as to what to do, but then the others started to move. And I realized there was something I wanted to do – no, something I had to do – and soon. I turned towards the staff table, where only the Headmaster still sat of all the teachers, and I walked to him with purpose. The initial shock of the attack had washed over me, and the grief at the death of this man who I looked up to, who I respected, who was my mentor, washed over me.
“Is it true?” I asked, and my voice sounded as miserable as I felt, for all that I tried to make it not seem so. “Are you really…”
The Headmaster smiled gently at me. “I’m afraid it is true, Ms. Prince,” he spoke gently, too, and it was that and his expression that convinced me more than his words. “If I had not thought such a thing might happen; if I had not drunk the draught of unlife this morning, I’d not be here to lead the school.”
“But when…”
“24 hours. It is enough time to do what needs to be done.”
I started to cry. His expression changed in to something truly odd to behold. He looked like he wanted to try to be comforting, but didn’t quite know how, and so he half smiled, half frowned, and some remaining part seemed baffled. “Really, Ms. Prince…” he grumbled. Still, he reached out a comforting hand and patted my shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” I wiped my eyes. “Headmaster, may I say…that is…” I took a deep breath. I had to say it. I might never get another chance. “I heard from…from sources that I trust…that those monsters that attacked me, that attacked the students, in the fall, that you were behind their creation…” I didn’t quite ask, but I received the answer. His hand froze on my shoulder, and his face twisted with grief and guilt. “I just wanted to tell you that whether you did it or not, it never mattered. I’ve always believed in you, Headmaster. I’ve always known that you had the students’ best interest in heart even when you were being strict or brusque; I know that you’d never have done anything like…like…like…that, if you didn’t believe it to be necessary to protect the school. I can only speak for myself, but I just wanted you to know that. I’ve always believed in you! You’re the best potions’ master I’ve ever seen, ever read of.”
I won’t attempt to explain the expression that these words brought to his face. “I,” he shifted uncomfortably, but the look in his, the tenderness, didn’t fade, “you are a very fine student, I’ve never seen one with better potential. I wish you would not participate in the battle. You should flee with the others.”
“I can’t, sir,” I replied. There were tears in my eyes again. The Headmaster hardly ever praised anyone, and never when it hadn’t been earned. “You understand that, I’m sure.”
He sighed. “I do.” He moved his hand, and I thought he was finished, but just as a I began to turn, he said, “Ms. Prince…” I looked back again, and met his eyes. He looked tired, so very tired, and all of the bluster and energy that he had always shown seemed gone now; I didn’t think it was just because he had died. “I’m sorry, Ms. Prince.”
I turned from him and left. I didn’t expect to ever see him again.
The Great Hall had mostly emptied at that point, and I hurried to the Ravenclaw common room to organize their evacuation and gather a small number of my belongings. This proved easy enough, and so I was only running a couple of minutes late for the rendezvous on the East wall, my broom in hand, but just as I reached the doors, Marcus met me, him coming from outside. “Oh!” he exclaimed. “There you are, I was looking, but they said you had yet to arrive.”
“I had to get my things,” I said softly. I felt distinctly shy in a way I didn’t normally feel with Marcus. There were things I needed to say to him, too. And I feared that if I didn’t say them now, I might never get the chance. I don’t know which frightened me more – that I might never see him again, or that I might die and leave him alone. He seemed to feel something similar as he closed the door he had come through. He took my hands in his, warm and strong and comforting, and for a couple of minutes neither of us spoke.
The press of time kept the moment from lengthening; the tension seemed to snap and we both started to speak at once. Then we both stopped and waited, and started again, and finally I simply waited. “Can I not convince you to flee?” his voice, earnest and concerned, pleaded with me.
“Could I convince you to?” I replied. We were both silent again. We didn’t need to answer such silly questions. It was I who broke this new quiet first. “Marcus,” his eyes drew me in. They were filled with tears, just like mine. “In case…” I swallowed. “In case the worst should happen,” what was the worst? “I just…” I couldn’t make myself speak, even now. And the silence stretched out again.
It was the door opening again that interrupted it, Professor Patronius sticking his head into the building. “Oh,” he commented as if nothing was being interrupted, “there you are. Come on, Ms. Prince, there’s no time!” He held the door for me.
I started to pulled away from Marcus, and he started to do the same. But then, what I hadn’t been able to say, what I hadn’t been able to do, a moment before overcame me, and I turned even as he did the same, and his lips met mine for the first time. As kisses go it was remarkably tame, but for all of that it was my first kiss and it had all the weight of what we both knew but couldn’t seem to say behind it. I loved Marcus. He knew that with my saying it. And he loved me. And I knew that without him saying it. What would saying it have said that that kiss did not?
And when it ended, we turned from each other, and I went out to the rampart, and I was determined to live. Nothing in this world would keep me from seeing him again. And when I did, I would tell him all of the things in my heart.
It feels a little silly that my first thought on feeling drained is to babble on my LJ, but there have been some interesting parts to this whole thing and I want to detox. Still, thinking over what I'd say, it's really not appropriate for me to do so, and talk about clients, in my LJ, so I guess I'll just have to babble to myself. :) I'll probably have to put out fires tomorrow, so I'm not exactly done, but it hardly matters anyway since now I have to catch up on the packing and moving.
I'm so glad I'm at least nominally finished. Maybe I can get some sleep tonight. I'm starting to feel sooooo tired. I'm not sure I'll get any writing done today, but if I do, I'll append it to this post.
Edit: Add "Beat Final Fantasy XII" to my list of accomplishments for the day - I only had the final dungeon left and haven't had time to play in two weeks, but I was determined to do it before I left, and now it's done. And only leading men can steal my heart - oh, be still! :)
Somehow. I'm not actually that happy with todays, but I think I'll just press on and fix it in an edit run at some point in the future - two of the most emotionally effecting scenes in the game for me made it in to today, but I think they lacked punch in this retelling, mostly cause I'm exhausted.
The hush that greeted the Headmasters words was absolute. Stunned expressions painted most faces, but mine was not that only one that showed resolve, either. Indeed, I could see the faces of who would defend the school by those that showed that determination. Guillermo Patil, and Lycia Gringott; Celestine, and Deletrious Grindlewald. Katrina, the Lunari’s, James Ferguson, and the insipid little Alexis Crowley. A few others, fourth and fifth years I didn’t know, all of the school Prefects. Perhaps 15 students in all, no more than 20 I thought. And me. And Marcus. I stood up. “Prefects,” I said in a ringing voice, “gather your houses.” The Headmaster nodded and sat down. And all around the room movement began, deliberately, purposefully, orders being called, commands given, people organizing. Most moved towards the door, to gather what belongings they could while Professor Lindelthwaite prepared this gateway. The resolved faces moved forward.
Marcus was at my side, and he took my hand now. “I think…” he met my eyes with sorrow. “I will join the sky group.” He spoke firmly. How brave he was, how dashing! “I have fought these zeppelins before, and it is where I can do the most good.”
“And I will fight on the ground,” I said a little sadly, “because potions are of no use against zeppelins, but will be of great use against werewolves.” We exchanged sad smiles, and joined the short queues in front of our respective Professor. Soon enough, I was in the front; Lycia, Caius, Deletrious and Celestine were the only students who had gone to Professor Patronius; the rest had spoken to Professor Tremens.
He gathered us all up together. “None of you have to stay,” he said firmly, “especially the girls. Are you certain?” None of us budged an inch. The professor nodded. “Very well. Get what you need in order. Dark falls in two hours. In 30 minutes, we will meet on the East turret over the door, facing the Forbidden Forest, and prepare our strategy. Bring your brooms.” And he walked off purposefully. For a moment, the five of us – I almost laughed hysterically, 5 students, 3 of them girls, to defend against an army of werewolves! – stood there, baffled as to what to do, but then the others started to move. And I realized there was something I wanted to do – no, something I had to do – and soon. I turned towards the staff table, where only the Headmaster still sat of all the teachers, and I walked to him with purpose. The initial shock of the attack had washed over me, and the grief at the death of this man who I looked up to, who I respected, who was my mentor, washed over me.
“Is it true?” I asked, and my voice sounded as miserable as I felt, for all that I tried to make it not seem so. “Are you really…”
The Headmaster smiled gently at me. “I’m afraid it is true, Ms. Prince,” he spoke gently, too, and it was that and his expression that convinced me more than his words. “If I had not thought such a thing might happen; if I had not drunk the draught of unlife this morning, I’d not be here to lead the school.”
“But when…”
“24 hours. It is enough time to do what needs to be done.”
I started to cry. His expression changed in to something truly odd to behold. He looked like he wanted to try to be comforting, but didn’t quite know how, and so he half smiled, half frowned, and some remaining part seemed baffled. “Really, Ms. Prince…” he grumbled. Still, he reached out a comforting hand and patted my shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” I wiped my eyes. “Headmaster, may I say…that is…” I took a deep breath. I had to say it. I might never get another chance. “I heard from…from sources that I trust…that those monsters that attacked me, that attacked the students, in the fall, that you were behind their creation…” I didn’t quite ask, but I received the answer. His hand froze on my shoulder, and his face twisted with grief and guilt. “I just wanted to tell you that whether you did it or not, it never mattered. I’ve always believed in you, Headmaster. I’ve always known that you had the students’ best interest in heart even when you were being strict or brusque; I know that you’d never have done anything like…like…like…that, if you didn’t believe it to be necessary to protect the school. I can only speak for myself, but I just wanted you to know that. I’ve always believed in you! You’re the best potions’ master I’ve ever seen, ever read of.”
I won’t attempt to explain the expression that these words brought to his face. “I,” he shifted uncomfortably, but the look in his, the tenderness, didn’t fade, “you are a very fine student, I’ve never seen one with better potential. I wish you would not participate in the battle. You should flee with the others.”
“I can’t, sir,” I replied. There were tears in my eyes again. The Headmaster hardly ever praised anyone, and never when it hadn’t been earned. “You understand that, I’m sure.”
He sighed. “I do.” He moved his hand, and I thought he was finished, but just as a I began to turn, he said, “Ms. Prince…” I looked back again, and met his eyes. He looked tired, so very tired, and all of the bluster and energy that he had always shown seemed gone now; I didn’t think it was just because he had died. “I’m sorry, Ms. Prince.”
I turned from him and left. I didn’t expect to ever see him again.
The Great Hall had mostly emptied at that point, and I hurried to the Ravenclaw common room to organize their evacuation and gather a small number of my belongings. This proved easy enough, and so I was only running a couple of minutes late for the rendezvous on the East wall, my broom in hand, but just as I reached the doors, Marcus met me, him coming from outside. “Oh!” he exclaimed. “There you are, I was looking, but they said you had yet to arrive.”
“I had to get my things,” I said softly. I felt distinctly shy in a way I didn’t normally feel with Marcus. There were things I needed to say to him, too. And I feared that if I didn’t say them now, I might never get the chance. I don’t know which frightened me more – that I might never see him again, or that I might die and leave him alone. He seemed to feel something similar as he closed the door he had come through. He took my hands in his, warm and strong and comforting, and for a couple of minutes neither of us spoke.
The press of time kept the moment from lengthening; the tension seemed to snap and we both started to speak at once. Then we both stopped and waited, and started again, and finally I simply waited. “Can I not convince you to flee?” his voice, earnest and concerned, pleaded with me.
“Could I convince you to?” I replied. We were both silent again. We didn’t need to answer such silly questions. It was I who broke this new quiet first. “Marcus,” his eyes drew me in. They were filled with tears, just like mine. “In case…” I swallowed. “In case the worst should happen,” what was the worst? “I just…” I couldn’t make myself speak, even now. And the silence stretched out again.
It was the door opening again that interrupted it, Professor Patronius sticking his head into the building. “Oh,” he commented as if nothing was being interrupted, “there you are. Come on, Ms. Prince, there’s no time!” He held the door for me.
I started to pulled away from Marcus, and he started to do the same. But then, what I hadn’t been able to say, what I hadn’t been able to do, a moment before overcame me, and I turned even as he did the same, and his lips met mine for the first time. As kisses go it was remarkably tame, but for all of that it was my first kiss and it had all the weight of what we both knew but couldn’t seem to say behind it. I loved Marcus. He knew that with my saying it. And he loved me. And I knew that without him saying it. What would saying it have said that that kiss did not?
And when it ended, we turned from each other, and I went out to the rampart, and I was determined to live. Nothing in this world would keep me from seeing him again. And when I did, I would tell him all of the things in my heart.
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