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Potterlock|Chp 3: Badgers and Eagles"HUFFLEPUFF!"
Shocked and more than a little miffed, John removed the hat and handed it back to the Professor McGonagall. The Hufflepuff table had applauded when his fate had been decided, but he also saw Mike grinning at him and clapping a little from the Gryffindor table, and Sherlock caught his eye from Ravenclaw and gave the slightest nod.
Emboldened, John sat down in a space which had been cleared for him by his new housemates. He grinned at those around him and shook a few hands, but proper introductions would have to wait for the last two students to be sorted. “Wiggins, Bill,” was sent to, “RAVENCLAW!” and, “Wilkes, Sebastian,” was deemed a, “SYTHERIN,” by the hat almost before it touched his head.
As the final cheers faded, Mcgonagall stepped up to the podium and cleared her throat. Immediately, all lingering conversation came to an abrupt end. “Welcome students old and new to another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft a
The Langoliers' Banquet|Main CourseTo the most honourable of Langoliers,
I’ll admit; when you first came to me, I had my doubts about you. But the reason I can tell you this is the reason I can tell you everything else; you can see just how corrupted of a person I am and have opened my own eyes to the fact. Of course, you have told me how you love the taste of a decaying soul, but still I find myself wondering, sometimes, why it is you stay with me.
Recently, I had another revelation. I came to the conclusion that it is quite impossible for me to feel love. Perhaps it is because of my lack of friends growing up, or perhaps my creator missed some integral part of my personality while putting all my pieces together (HOW COULD THEY MAKE SOMETHING SO UNNATURAL), but I find that whenever I try to offer my heart to someone, I always feel myself tiring, eventually. Perhaps you don’t understand, so I’ll try to paraphrase it.
Once, about two or three years ago now, I found my mother in the lounge room crying si
Potterlock|Chp 2: Blue and Silver, Black and GoldThrough the night, John thought long and hard about what his mother had told him and came to the conclusion that, if his father had loved his mother as much as she loved him (and John could see that she loved him very much sometimes, but she tried to force herself to forget), then he would want to tell her that he was a wizard, so there must be something else stopping him, some law saying he couldn’t tell his muggle wife about the magical world. So there was probably a law saying that you can’t just run around, willy-nilly, casting spells, either, because the closest thing to spells John had seen before yesterday was fireworks on New Year’s Eve and he was pretty sure they weren’t magical. Mum had said that Harriet had unconsciously done magical things when she was a baby. What if the same went for John and he’d never truly realised? Would strange things continue to happen to him? Would that mean he’d end up breaking some wizard law? What if he ended
PotterLock|Chp 1: Cedar and Unicorn HairJohn H. Watson, aged eleven, stood quite still, close to dumbfounded, feeling a confliction of emotions he’d never experienced in his short life. He shouldn’t be here. He should be home, looking after his mortified mother, comforting her, telling her he wouldn’t dream of it, that it was all a lie. Another part of him, and one that he was trying very hard to hate, was more excited and alive and free than he’d ever felt with his mother. One of his small hands was clenched around the incriminating letter; the one his mother had exclaimed had ‘ruined everything’. In the other was a small bag of gold coins – what had the man called them? Galleons? Yes, that was it.
Hesitantly John took a step forward, onto the bustling street of Diagon Alley. There was noise all around him and people in robes and pointed hats bustling around busily and he could hear the screeching of owls coming from further along the road. The pla
The Langoliers' Banquet|EntreeTo my dearest Langoliers,
It’s funny, isn’t it? There are some things one remembers for the oddest reasons, or for no reason at all. I’m sure I’ve told you – and if I haven’t, I’m sure you are aware – that I had what equates to not a single friend in primary school. This is important, you see, as the memory I recalled takes place when I was in grade three or four.
I remember going to school early in the morning, so I could read the book I’d left in my desk, but as I was waiting for the teachers to arrive and unlock the classroom, I was hit by a wave of nausea. Suddenly, I was halfway to passing out and the only thing keeping me conscious was the need to find something to throw up in. Naturally, I stumbled as quickly as I could to the lavatories, but they were locked; the cleaners hadn’t arrived yet.
Almost sobbing with desperation and fear, I remember slumping weakly against the door, wishing it would open, and onto the floor,
In the Beginning - Chp 3 (BBC Sherlock)Three years passed and Matriel and Joan only became closer with Sherlock and Atilia. When Sherlock turned ten, Joan wanted to give him a microscope, but mamma had strongly refused. She didn’t know what else she could buy him that he would like, but she knew she couldn’t get him any old thing. She wanted him to remember her present. She wanted hers to be the gift he appreciated most.
Which is why, despite her better judgment, Matriel eventually managed to convince her to get him a rabbit. They had a problem with acquiring it, though. They couldn’t exactly tell daddy they wanted to buy their best friend a rabbit so he could dissect it, but they also felt that, for it to be a good present, they couldn’t give him a wriggling, squirming, alive one. Then he’d have to kill it himself and Joan knew people already thought he was too strange to end up normal. They didn’t need to add ‘killed small mammals in childhood’ to their list.
Stockholm SyndromeI took a small bite of the leftover chicken leg from last night, knowing that if I didn’t eat something this morning, Shaylah would be disappointed. Grimacing at the feeling of food settling in my stomach so early in the morning, I went up to my room in search of my phone.
Two minutes later, I found it, tangled in my sheets. Typical. Plugging my earphones in, I went down the stairs and started zipping up my bag. 7:54 am. Two minutes late, but I usually had to wait that long for the bus to get to my stop. I hung my earphones around my neck and swung my bag onto my shoulder. I was stopped my mum’s voice.
“Hang on…” She cocked her head to the side, as if listening. “Isn’t that the bus?”
I stopped a moment and head the rumble of the ancient piece of metalwork making its arduous way up the hill. “Shit,” I said breathlessly.
Mum didn’t even care that I swore, she just shouted, “Go, quickly!”
Not needing an
In the Beginning - Chp 2 (Sherlock BBC)They were almost seven. They’d been five when they’d first seen him and they were still no closer to befriending him than they were the first day. Joan hated the way the boys excluded her, so Matriel had begun taking larger and more dangerous-looking forms to make up for her gender and soon he’d beaten almost all the boy’s daemons in fights. There were a few they hadn’t gone up against, like those who actually followed the school rules, or thought their parents would notice if their daemon came home with some bruises of a scratch or two, or those who just weren’t interested. And Sherlock.
Joan knew he wasn’t uninterested; she’d seen him coolly watching some of the matches from across the oval, seen him murmuring to his daemon, but they never joined in. In fact, she’d never seen him actually hold a conversation with anyone. True, she did try to talk to him almost every day, but she’s come to the conclusion that it
In the Beginning - Chp 1 (Sherlock BBC)He didn’t like them. She could see that, but it didn’t bother them, because he seemed like the kind of person who didn’t like anybody unless they gave him a reason to. They were determined to give him a reason. They didn’t even know why, really, only that everyone else was boring and he… wasn’t.
First, they tried forcing their presence upon him, simply becoming his shadow, but he only got annoyed and it wasn’t long before his daemon changed into a small lion cub and growled (because, if she’d tried to roar, it would have come out as a not-very-intimidating squeak) at them and bit at Matriel’s ankles until he and Joan were forced to retreat, regroup and form another plan.
They tried to impress him, but he only scoffed at them and walked away when they tried to show him their painting.
They tried a more conventional method, but before they’d even introduced themselves, he was turning his back.
They tried offering him their sand
Time MachinePeople always dream about being able to go back in time,
but what they don't realize is that they can.
Every time you read a story, listen to a record,
or watch an old film, you're time traveling.
So go ahead, pick up a book, listen to a classic tune,
watch a movie, and discover your time machine.
EncouragmentOur days are numbered, and ain't that true?
You look on the news and only see whats prophecized in the Book of Revelations, but what can you do?
It's important that we expose people to Christ and his miracles. No, we cannot always influence them to believe, but we can at least tell them about the man of peace.
As for those who do/ who are beginning to realize Christ, try not to look forward to the upcoming days, but to Christ coming back. No matter what trials society tries to give us, no matter the discrimination we will feel, just always take refuge in Christ.
No matter what happens, if you believe Christ with all your heart and you choose to live by his ways, you will have a place in his home.
Inspired ProseWe all have things to say, most of us have something we really believe, or multiple things we could talk about for hours at a time; things that manifest themselves when you’re in the moment, when you’re not distracted with redundant information masquerading as truth and news. When you have a moment with yourself, and your life, and life as we know it is shifted into focus, put into perspective, you must realise how transient it all is. This increasingly dominant westernised way of thinking, and acting is not only promoting ignorance, and stupidity, but solidifying our stunted growth as humans and as our true selves –– whether that be a soul, a spirit or an energy.
To some this may be exhausting to think about, and to read about –– to me it’s exhausting to be surrounded by those that don’t think this on a regular basis, as they’ve already been poisoned by something; by the media, by experience, by the government, by societ
Infinity Complex.Infinity Complex.
This is something that has been on my mind for a little bit. I would like to share this complex with everyone, and find out if anyone else has thought of this.
The infinity complex is just that. A complex cycle of infinity.
Let's say I am traveling space, and 'ascending'. I reach far into space and reach a sign. (Theoretically) The sign says "YOU SHALL NOT PASS". The complex begins.
Why is the sign there? Who made the sign? If not whom, what made the sign? What made what made the sign? Why can I not pass the sign? Is there something stopping me from passing the sign? If so, is this the end of the universe? Is this something beyond the sign? Why would it be there in the first place? Is there something it doesn't wish me or anything to see? What created what that made this barrier? Is there something beyond what created what? Why can I read the sign? Why is it in my language? Is it in different languages depending on the thing that perceives it? If so, why? If
Communication Is EssentialCommunication Is Essential.
It is crucial.
It is important.
It is vital.
Communication Is Essential.
It is the medium through which two individuals can reach common ground.
It is the method through which thousands upon thousands can attain unity for a singular goal.
It is the language through which one can learn and understand different ways.
Communication Is Essential.
Without communication, chaos would ensue, whether big or small.
Without communication, there can be no common ground between individuals or groups.
Without communication, there is no bridge between two or more different forms.
Communication Is Essential.
People can gain valuable insight and information through communication.
People can attain new experiences through communication.
People can make new friendships through communication.
Communication Is Essential.
Communication is more than simple talk and exchange of information.
Communication is a social medium, meant to bring groups together under common interest.
Lost in the Spiritual WorldMy Darkness:
I have been meditating since I was 12 years of age. It was not only to escape the world around me but it helped me a lot in doing so. A world full of bullying beings addicted to matter of all kind. At that time I lost sense nearly completely. I really was cut up from the world at my young age, seeking shelter in astral travel. Just to differentiate from them, not to put myself with them on one level, to detach myself from material the best I could. And I felt that I did not need it. There was no contact to other people and I neglected my body completely.
I came to know that it was a wrong way and I changed to another extreme that looked like helping others at any risk, running against walls, bashing my head, giving all but receiving mostly nothing, self-sacrifice as I was not able to help myself.
The last change took place in 1995 and I feel that this is now the right way for me.
During my astral experiences over three decades I have met a lot of entities out there, on the
Don't Get Me WrongIn the old days the quickest fast track to fame and glory involved sleepless hours, relentless drawings, painting, and studies month after month, and years of work to create a single masterpiece that would insure them that their name would be carved on the marble pillars in the great hall of history's famed and legendary artists. However, (and not all that surprising) one would only need to create MLP Fan Art in order to cast such a great shadow over all other artists that came before them.
Two waysOnce upon a time, two men, brothers in soul, wondered how to seek the path to wisdom, the older decided to live a hermit in the tallest of the cusp, to live and ponder the meaning of life by himself for some years, but the younger decided to stay in society and the safety of home, disposed of course to seek his own path with the favor of his people and the daily routine.
As the time passed and years changed, the countdown for the meeting was up one day, and both brothers encountered their stories, eldest opened up the conversation:
“During my time in the mountains I had time to ponder and think, the meaning of life and develop my mind, peace and feed my soul, and what did you learn, brother?”
“During my time at home, around my family and people I know, between my problems and my productive life, I learned many things from people, morals and valuable feelings from my mistakes and triumphs, my flaws and talents, I helped many people change just as much as they helped me
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