(no subject)
Hugs to everyone! Sometimes I feel like I've been forgotten, though I've never forgotten fandom. Fandom remains my happiest time.
Mom's doing so much better! She had a blood infection, and after antibiotics, she began remembering more and became cognizant again. The hospital moved her into a Skilled Nursing Facility (SNF) for rehab. She lost 23 pounds while she was ill, and most of her strength is at half-speed. She'll be in there for another week or two, even though she swears she's coming home Tuesday if she has to call a cab. :-) Yeah, Mom's back to being herself.
I, however, seem to have the flu on top of this sinus infection from hell. I've spent the last two days curled up on my side and watching TV. Thank God for the USA channel. Yesterday was a NCIS marathon and tonight it's House. Gracie, my little Chiwoodle (Chihauhau-poodle mix) won't leave me alone for five minutes and, in fact, is sleeping behind my back as I transcribe. She misses Mom so much. Gracie won't let Woe-Be cat sleep in Mom's recliner. Now she won't let Woe-Be sleep on me if I don't want her to.
Checking through my writing file, I found this snippet. I don't remember what I was writing it for, or what was going to happen next, but I liked it. Thought y'all might like it too.
"Tell me," he said softly, seductively, "why do you distrust Severus?" The mildness of his tone was deliberately misleading.
She was seated at his feet, like a good bitch hound, content to worship him from that lowly position. His hand, the fingers strangely elongated, rested on the top of her head.
Despite her madness and her years in Azkaban, Bellatrix Lestrange was still one of the most beautiful women he had ever met. Back in the old days, the days before, his soul's exile, he had had her. Had taken her while her husband watched. It was more than a test of their loyalty, it was one small way he had taken something from the purebloods who ruled the Wizarding world.
Or should have ruled it.
He still tested her on occasion, as he did all his Death Eaters. It showed their devotion and obedience to him, but it also secretly amused him to watch as they scurried to do his bidding.
Out of all his followers, Bella was the most devout, most reverent. Her idealization of him shown in her eyes, burning in her madness. He had no doubt that she would do whatever he asked of her; only death would stop her.
She turned troubled eyes up to him. "I'm not sure," Bella confessed, staring at him beseechingly and with more than a trace of anxiety. He could tell that was the truth. Bella would never lie to him; she wouldn't dare. "But I fear he has spent too much time with the old man…"
"The old man whom he killed?" he asked with gentle taunting.
"If he's really dead," she muttered.
"He is," the Dark Lord answered calmly.
Yep, I'm going through my writings. That might be good news. Let us hope!
Mom's doing so much better! She had a blood infection, and after antibiotics, she began remembering more and became cognizant again. The hospital moved her into a Skilled Nursing Facility (SNF) for rehab. She lost 23 pounds while she was ill, and most of her strength is at half-speed. She'll be in there for another week or two, even though she swears she's coming home Tuesday if she has to call a cab. :-) Yeah, Mom's back to being herself.
I, however, seem to have the flu on top of this sinus infection from hell. I've spent the last two days curled up on my side and watching TV. Thank God for the USA channel. Yesterday was a NCIS marathon and tonight it's House. Gracie, my little Chiwoodle (Chihauhau-poodle mix) won't leave me alone for five minutes and, in fact, is sleeping behind my back as I transcribe. She misses Mom so much. Gracie won't let Woe-Be cat sleep in Mom's recliner. Now she won't let Woe-Be sleep on me if I don't want her to.
Checking through my writing file, I found this snippet. I don't remember what I was writing it for, or what was going to happen next, but I liked it. Thought y'all might like it too.
"Tell me," he said softly, seductively, "why do you distrust Severus?" The mildness of his tone was deliberately misleading.
She was seated at his feet, like a good bitch hound, content to worship him from that lowly position. His hand, the fingers strangely elongated, rested on the top of her head.
Despite her madness and her years in Azkaban, Bellatrix Lestrange was still one of the most beautiful women he had ever met. Back in the old days, the days before, his soul's exile, he had had her. Had taken her while her husband watched. It was more than a test of their loyalty, it was one small way he had taken something from the purebloods who ruled the Wizarding world.
Or should have ruled it.
He still tested her on occasion, as he did all his Death Eaters. It showed their devotion and obedience to him, but it also secretly amused him to watch as they scurried to do his bidding.
Out of all his followers, Bella was the most devout, most reverent. Her idealization of him shown in her eyes, burning in her madness. He had no doubt that she would do whatever he asked of her; only death would stop her.
She turned troubled eyes up to him. "I'm not sure," Bella confessed, staring at him beseechingly and with more than a trace of anxiety. He could tell that was the truth. Bella would never lie to him; she wouldn't dare. "But I fear he has spent too much time with the old man…"
"The old man whom he killed?" he asked with gentle taunting.
"If he's really dead," she muttered.
"He is," the Dark Lord answered calmly.
Yep, I'm going through my writings. That might be good news. Let us hope!