Post by chrissy on Oct 25, 2008 18:19:54 GMT -5
The beginnings of a really bad storm were raging outside, rather it had been raging outside for the last few hours, and it was quite obvious today that the weather was bad. The corridors had been packed full with unnecessary traffic brought from the chaotic downpours polluting the air space outside the castle on the grounds this morning. The grounds had remained deserted for the better half of today, the rain had driven most away and only a few students remained to brave the rain for the sake of a mud fight. Those were only the younger years of course because everyone past the age of thirteen had better things to do rather then to end up get a mud pie in the face. Those same fights did not last long though because a respectable member of the Hogwarts staff had been out earlier to break them up. That was before the storm had gotten worse, lightening and thunder were then added to the seize less rainwater pouring from the gray skies. The resounding echo of the loud booming thunder strikes outside now filled the Hogwarts corridors stirring up a chorus of screams in its wake. And that had been how Christine had spent the afternoon dodging through the crowded corridors in between classes cursing anyone dumb enough to fall across her path. Hating every single moment of having to fight for her personal space Christine had attempted to take shelter in the common room several times today, but right now was the only time that she found adequate for the maneuver. And a maneuver it really was because the common room had been packed due to the jammed up corridors and the lack of interest in going outside or even mingling with any of the other houses. Leave it to Slytherin house to breed brainless recluses. Crowd control was on no one's mind as the halls grew less and less jammed as the day wore on, since more and more students found places for themselves that did not involve being in the corridor. Later that evening Christine was thankful for it because she could make her routine rounds striding through the corridor looking for someone to curse or trip if only "by accident." Course it was not accidental and anyone that believed her was probably out of their mind not to mention rather drugged up or maybe just brainless to begin with.
Friday it was and Friday it felt like, but by now it was in the early morning hours of Saturday and Friday was long gone. Yet somehow Christine's sense of time was still suspended in the early evening hours of Friday. Her sense of time was skewed even more as she lounged around in the windowless common room. Sure the windowless thing did not really help any mostly because there was no light coming in or out of the room to judge the time of day. It could have been bright and sunny outside now for all he knew shut up in a dark-cellar-like room. For the most part Christine did not mind not knowing the time of day, she cared about few things and the hours in the day was one of them. She had never really slept much, at least not since that day; only because she was scared that she might sleep-talk or rather scream. The nightmares had been quiet ones at first, the simple low roar of an engine that quiet yelping noise, the same one that her dog had made when the squeal of tires had forced out it's last living breath. But then things got crazier. That yelp turned quickly into a blood curdling scream, and that roar turned into a deafening growl. Things seemed so much fiercer when reality was not involved, and that was really when she begun to hate sleeping. In general she knew the stereotypes about teenagers sleeping much more and longer then adults, but she defied those stats in every way. Late to bed early to rise. That was Christine's schedule and she kept to it almost as devoutly as a religious person would their church attendance. This schedule was her lifeline; she did not want a re-enactment of first year, because at the time she had not known how bad her nightmares were. Apparently they got loud.
The common room had only been her escape tonight because there were no more options, it was a Friday night yet she was not even allowed to leave the castle. That was Hogwarts and its stupid regulations and curfews like everything there was the downside and the downside here happened to droop quite visibly. Where was the fun in being away from home when it was always early to bed early to rise? There was no fun in that, but unlike most Christine found herself easily disregarding the Hogwarts "Guidelines" as she called them. There were other things that she had to do anyways; she had a schedule to follow and things to do of course. On this theory Christine was always where she was not supposed to be somehow this was what had stuck over the years as she had grown. If she was not someplace where she shouldn't be at that moment then she was planning on getting there. Her trip to the drab common room tonight had held true to this fact like any other night. Christine was having trouble sleep yet again. Restlessness had drifted over her as it had drifted through the corridors earlier today. No one knew where to place themselves today, and she felt the same way. Out of indecision she had chosen the common room because it was the safest at this hour. No one would come through here because everyone was asleep; it was rare for anyone to be awake at this early hour. Restless as she was Christine had still attempted sleep she owed herself that much every night so she set time aside a good hour or to usually. Tonight had been more hopeless then it had been in a while for she had thrown herself on the bed on top of the covers and had laid there for a while. Nothing came so she got up and stopped the familiar tossing and turning pattern that was so common to her. Her roommates did not deserve to be woken up due to her own stupidity she owed them that much at least -- decency that was. Why doom the innocent to her own guilty fate? There was no reason to because they had not done her any wrong yet.
With rather low spirits Christine had marched herself into the common room looking a bit more dead then she had in weeks. Hazel eyes shined with intimidation as they examined the empty room that had not at all been used much today. By the dim glowing firelight the place looked as if it were waiting for some use by anyone who might come along. Without another glance she had thrown herself across the sofa the only chair fit for more then one person in the whole damn room. The eerie feeling the 17th century furniture was giving off did not reach Christine tonight. Maybe the place was actually beginning to feel like home; truly this was doubtful because it looked more like a place fit for a séance then anything else. The velvet emerald drapes hung on the bare concrete walls unused and dusty while the strong scent of musk drifted through them. That all too familiar scent was not filling her unwilling nostrils as she considered it, practically greeted it, another obnoxious practicality of the room. If you had a dungeon with furniture that was as old as the ages then it had to smell musky. It was a mandate, just like it was a mandate that you had to be of purer blood to be a Slytherin. Strange how there was always the exception to the room, the dormitories beyond the common room did not smell as musky as the common room itself. And here she was a half blood, living proof of a tainted line that she alone had broken, having been sorted into the house for only the purest of bloodlines. Sure no one knew her dirty little secret, but she did and when he was younger it had bothered her and put a lot of strain on her for she worried that everyone else would find out. But then again she had never run with the clicks of purebloods within Slytherin house. She knew them all by name of course, but she had never joined their ranks because she refused to pair herself up with anyone. Christine did not worship anyone, nor did she follow them. She was her own person and she wanted to keep it that way, which was why she had not gone about dragging herself after anyone. That did not stop her from socializing with them, but it was done in moderation. It was strange how that worked how she had been able to escape the clutches of the larger groups when she was younger. Christine sat on the barely stuffed dark green sofa in the Slytherin common room staring blankly at the ceiling considering this.
[open]
Friday it was and Friday it felt like, but by now it was in the early morning hours of Saturday and Friday was long gone. Yet somehow Christine's sense of time was still suspended in the early evening hours of Friday. Her sense of time was skewed even more as she lounged around in the windowless common room. Sure the windowless thing did not really help any mostly because there was no light coming in or out of the room to judge the time of day. It could have been bright and sunny outside now for all he knew shut up in a dark-cellar-like room. For the most part Christine did not mind not knowing the time of day, she cared about few things and the hours in the day was one of them. She had never really slept much, at least not since that day; only because she was scared that she might sleep-talk or rather scream. The nightmares had been quiet ones at first, the simple low roar of an engine that quiet yelping noise, the same one that her dog had made when the squeal of tires had forced out it's last living breath. But then things got crazier. That yelp turned quickly into a blood curdling scream, and that roar turned into a deafening growl. Things seemed so much fiercer when reality was not involved, and that was really when she begun to hate sleeping. In general she knew the stereotypes about teenagers sleeping much more and longer then adults, but she defied those stats in every way. Late to bed early to rise. That was Christine's schedule and she kept to it almost as devoutly as a religious person would their church attendance. This schedule was her lifeline; she did not want a re-enactment of first year, because at the time she had not known how bad her nightmares were. Apparently they got loud.
The common room had only been her escape tonight because there were no more options, it was a Friday night yet she was not even allowed to leave the castle. That was Hogwarts and its stupid regulations and curfews like everything there was the downside and the downside here happened to droop quite visibly. Where was the fun in being away from home when it was always early to bed early to rise? There was no fun in that, but unlike most Christine found herself easily disregarding the Hogwarts "Guidelines" as she called them. There were other things that she had to do anyways; she had a schedule to follow and things to do of course. On this theory Christine was always where she was not supposed to be somehow this was what had stuck over the years as she had grown. If she was not someplace where she shouldn't be at that moment then she was planning on getting there. Her trip to the drab common room tonight had held true to this fact like any other night. Christine was having trouble sleep yet again. Restlessness had drifted over her as it had drifted through the corridors earlier today. No one knew where to place themselves today, and she felt the same way. Out of indecision she had chosen the common room because it was the safest at this hour. No one would come through here because everyone was asleep; it was rare for anyone to be awake at this early hour. Restless as she was Christine had still attempted sleep she owed herself that much every night so she set time aside a good hour or to usually. Tonight had been more hopeless then it had been in a while for she had thrown herself on the bed on top of the covers and had laid there for a while. Nothing came so she got up and stopped the familiar tossing and turning pattern that was so common to her. Her roommates did not deserve to be woken up due to her own stupidity she owed them that much at least -- decency that was. Why doom the innocent to her own guilty fate? There was no reason to because they had not done her any wrong yet.
With rather low spirits Christine had marched herself into the common room looking a bit more dead then she had in weeks. Hazel eyes shined with intimidation as they examined the empty room that had not at all been used much today. By the dim glowing firelight the place looked as if it were waiting for some use by anyone who might come along. Without another glance she had thrown herself across the sofa the only chair fit for more then one person in the whole damn room. The eerie feeling the 17th century furniture was giving off did not reach Christine tonight. Maybe the place was actually beginning to feel like home; truly this was doubtful because it looked more like a place fit for a séance then anything else. The velvet emerald drapes hung on the bare concrete walls unused and dusty while the strong scent of musk drifted through them. That all too familiar scent was not filling her unwilling nostrils as she considered it, practically greeted it, another obnoxious practicality of the room. If you had a dungeon with furniture that was as old as the ages then it had to smell musky. It was a mandate, just like it was a mandate that you had to be of purer blood to be a Slytherin. Strange how there was always the exception to the room, the dormitories beyond the common room did not smell as musky as the common room itself. And here she was a half blood, living proof of a tainted line that she alone had broken, having been sorted into the house for only the purest of bloodlines. Sure no one knew her dirty little secret, but she did and when he was younger it had bothered her and put a lot of strain on her for she worried that everyone else would find out. But then again she had never run with the clicks of purebloods within Slytherin house. She knew them all by name of course, but she had never joined their ranks because she refused to pair herself up with anyone. Christine did not worship anyone, nor did she follow them. She was her own person and she wanted to keep it that way, which was why she had not gone about dragging herself after anyone. That did not stop her from socializing with them, but it was done in moderation. It was strange how that worked how she had been able to escape the clutches of the larger groups when she was younger. Christine sat on the barely stuffed dark green sofa in the Slytherin common room staring blankly at the ceiling considering this.
[open]