Graham Specter (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
heartwrenching) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sortinghat_rp2012-09-22 08:32 am
heartwrenching) wrote in sortinghat_rp2012-09-22 08:32 am
Entry tags:
1 Sad, Sad Story
Let me tell you a sad, sad story. It's a story filled with tragedy and the slings and arrows of cruel, cruel fate, so get some tissues ready. You'll be bawlin' your eyes out!
You see, once upon a time - a time that is now - there was a boy. Is-was?! Tenses. What am I supposed to do with tenses in a framing device like this?! I'm talking about now, but convention dictates past tense for tales of tragedy and woe like this, ones on par with the sad stories of the Ancient Greeks, where people accidentally married their mothers and the like. Which frankly I never understood. Now, I like older women - I like them a lot! - but there comes a point where you just gotta look at the situation and think, "This broad could conceivably have given birth to me." I'm just sayin' it should give you some pause so you can evaluate your life choices.
Now what was I - RIGHT, the tale of anger and frustration!!
Anyway, this boy kept seeing people moaning about getting on a certain sports team - let's call it Shmidditch for anonymity's sake. And this boy - ah - he loved Shmidditch. And he was good at it. Great, even. And while he'd normally be a shoo-in for getting on the team, a pack of cold-hearted wizards who spend all of what little time they've got on this great earth sitting around in dusty rooms and always, always, always sneering down on anything and everything that doesn't fit just so into the neat little boxes of conduct that they approve of conspired against him to prevent him from even trying out!
So the boy was sad. No, the boy was angry. No, the boy was... - the boy is a lot of things all of the time.
But what you should take away from this little fable is that the boy hates it when people don't appreciate what they have, especially when they rub their false, pretend tragedies in everyone's face. And the boy has very particular ways of dealing with the things he hates.
You see, once upon a time - a time that is now - there was a boy. Is-was?! Tenses. What am I supposed to do with tenses in a framing device like this?! I'm talking about now, but convention dictates past tense for tales of tragedy and woe like this, ones on par with the sad stories of the Ancient Greeks, where people accidentally married their mothers and the like. Which frankly I never understood. Now, I like older women - I like them a lot! - but there comes a point where you just gotta look at the situation and think, "This broad could conceivably have given birth to me." I'm just sayin' it should give you some pause so you can evaluate your life choices.
Now what was I - RIGHT, the tale of anger and frustration!!
Anyway, this boy kept seeing people moaning about getting on a certain sports team - let's call it Shmidditch for anonymity's sake. And this boy - ah - he loved Shmidditch. And he was good at it. Great, even. And while he'd normally be a shoo-in for getting on the team, a pack of cold-hearted wizards who spend all of what little time they've got on this great earth sitting around in dusty rooms and always, always, always sneering down on anything and everything that doesn't fit just so into the neat little boxes of conduct that they approve of conspired against him to prevent him from even trying out!
So the boy was sad. No, the boy was angry. No, the boy was... - the boy is a lot of things all of the time.
But what you should take away from this little fable is that the boy hates it when people don't appreciate what they have, especially when they rub their false, pretend tragedies in everyone's face. And the boy has very particular ways of dealing with the things he hates.
no subject
But try to calm down, Specter. I suppose there's nothing we can do about it for now, and I don't want you to work yourself up!
no subject
But one tiny bright spot glittering in the black black blackblackBLACK GAPING VOID OF NIGHT that is my current Quidditch situation, I saw nothing in the particulars of my case that said I couldn't give my strongly worded opinion to members on the team.
no subject
Oh, really? This should be fun. What do you think of the choices I made?
no subject
Most of 'em are fresh meat, so I wouldn't know from personal experience, but the ones I have played with - like Amelia for example - are finely aged beef. To extend my wonderful meat metaphor, which I am now promptly abandoning with extreme prejudice because it's too damn stupid. Otherwise, from
stalkingkeeping my eyes ever-open and ever-vigilant, you've got a pretty good knack for picking 'em. HOWEVER!! I cast a skeptical gaze on that one chaser, Travis or Trevor or something-or-other! Hope he's hidin' more backbone than he shows.no subject
Thank you! Can't really go wrong with that particular Kirkland, can you? And Egbert rather surprised me, I'll admit... Tavros! Ah, now I'll admit he seems like an odd choice, but believe me when I say he's far from that! The boy's got a fighting spirit.
no subject
no subject
no subject