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fandomhigh2012-07-23 01:03 am
bigdamnprisoner.livejournal.com) wrote in fandomhigh2012-07-23 01:03 am
Entry tags:
Detention, Depths of the Castle, Monday
Morning had broken in Fandom, and another day in detention was about to begin, the same as every other day.
For the moment, things were as quiet as they probably ever got, while everyone was still resting on their cots, women on one side of the magical black cloth barrier, men on the other. Soon, those who had managed to sleep would be woken by the ever-cheerful voice of Dolores Umbridge coming from the loudspeakers, ordering them to rise. The barrier would disappear, and whatever bland, tasteless substance they were calling breakfast today would appear instead. After that, those in detention were free to do whatever they wanted ... if they could find anything to do that didn't break one of the island's rules, or that could be done while trapped away from everyone else.
But really, the days of those in detention weren't that slow. Soon enough, visiting hours would start, and there wouldn't be nearly as much boredom then.
[OCD is up, have at it!]
For the moment, things were as quiet as they probably ever got, while everyone was still resting on their cots, women on one side of the magical black cloth barrier, men on the other. Soon, those who had managed to sleep would be woken by the ever-cheerful voice of Dolores Umbridge coming from the loudspeakers, ordering them to rise. The barrier would disappear, and whatever bland, tasteless substance they were calling breakfast today would appear instead. After that, those in detention were free to do whatever they wanted ... if they could find anything to do that didn't break one of the island's rules, or that could be done while trapped away from everyone else.
But really, the days of those in detention weren't that slow. Soon enough, visiting hours would start, and there wouldn't be nearly as much boredom then.
[OCD is up, have at it!]
Re: Chat With Your Fellow Prisoners [07/23]
Their field. Squall had made a promise to her. They would wait there and meet up again. No matter what. She had promises to keep.
The air was crisp and bright, and the petals flew through the air. She caught one in her palm, and it turned into a white feather. Her feathers.
Her wings.
She would go there, again, and be free.
There were tears streaming down her face, now. It was okay. They were good tears, and the wind was kissing them away.
Re: Chat With Your Fellow Prisoners [07/23]
It would tire her out, but that was okay. This was the only thing worth anything anymore.