More misc stuff
Title: Blaise's (not so) Quiet Night In
Who: Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson
Why: This was a third person rpg sample for dis_rpg. But I liked it and I haven't done any writing as such recently, and since this is passable for a ficlet, I decided to repost it.
Disclaimer: JKR's world and characters, not mine.
* ~ * ~ *
Blaise stretched out on the leather sofa and stifled a yawn. He found yawns to be undignified, a sign that you were not only bored by proceedings (even though he was) but had let your guard down significantly. Both were bad ideas where he was. Theodore had just retired to bed and with that the intelligence quotient of the Slytherin common room had been significantly lowered.
On the plus side, the assortment of simpering fifth year girls had nanced off not long after Theodore and the room was now empty. Unlike the fifth years Blaise liked Theodore well enough, as much as he could like anyone in the school, but his prefered company still came in a six foot package and a shirt and pair of trousers minimally rumpled considering that he had donned them sixteen hours earlier. Conscious of his appearance and the impression it gave others, he had actually performed an ironing charm over his clothes on the sly. Again, not something he would prefer to share. Crabbe and Goyle might cast the sort of stipulations one with their lack of imagination might make about a well-groomed male who didn't attempt to hump the leg of anything in a skirt. Blaise smiled at that. He was picky but then he could afford to be. Ironic that in spite of their lack of standards other than the witch being pure, the chubbier two of his dormmates could not pull to save their lives.
It was a Monday night so by the looks of things he was going to remain undisturbed. Reaching for his book, a well-done satire of Malecrit's Helas, J'ai Transfigure Mes Pieds, he prepared to relax fully for the first time that day.
Sadly but not completely unpredictably, it wasn't to be. A high-pitched scream sounded down the stairs, followed by a cry of "OH NO HE DIDN'T!" Tucking a bookmark back into the satire, Blaise sat up and waited for the onslaught.
No sooner than he had done so then Pansy Parkinson was upon him, eyes narrowed and hands propped on hips. "Blaise Zabini!" she blurted out. "I have something truly disgusting to tell you!"
What, you and Draco finally consummated your relationship? Blaise wanted to ask. Even if - on the other hand - he really didn't want to know the answer. However, he did not ask. He merely raised one eyebrow a fraction of an inch and said, "Oh?"
"Oh?" sufficed. As usual, Pansy was used to functioning on autopilot. "Blaise Zabini!" she repeated. Yet again. Ho hum. "Would you or would you not class having SEX with a Muggle as bestiality?"
"Er," he said, privately thinking that copulating with Crabbe or Goyle would be closer to the mark. In front of Draco he would have never paused in such a telling manner, but Pansy was typically too dim to pick up on such things. She went off onto a diatribe of who had slept with what and how DISGUSTING it was and how she was simply APPALLED. Blaise paid attention long enought to realise that it had about as much of a point as her usual chatter, which had the sharpness of a feather pillow, and from that moment on only tuned in with half an ear, making sure to nod and articulate "mmm"-ing noises at all the right places. If he was a Muggle and aware of such things, he would have said that he could sense his brain cells bidding adieu every second Pansy spoke. Finally she was done. Or perhaps not. Typical. "Well, what do YOU think?" she demanded.
"I don't think shagging a Muggle is bestiality exactly," he said, sinking back into the sofa cushions with a laconic air. Then, when Pansy's lower lip plummetted to the stone floor in shock, he deadpaned, "In comparison to, say, shagging Ginny Weasley, that is."
"AHAHAHA HOW FUNNY YOU ARE!" Pansy brayed. Blaise resisted an urge to Scourgify his eardrum - and the brain contained within. "I agree that she's disgusting - and that family of hers! Really, is it normal to have that many children? I ask you!"
No you won't, well, not really. Again Blaise modified this thought with a shrug. Pansy as usual didn't need much more encouragement than this. On and on she went. It might have classed as a break from homework, he reflected, if it wasn't so headache-inducing. He schooled his features to a neutral expression and zoned out.
Who: Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson
Why: This was a third person rpg sample for dis_rpg. But I liked it and I haven't done any writing as such recently, and since this is passable for a ficlet, I decided to repost it.
Disclaimer: JKR's world and characters, not mine.
* ~ * ~ *
Blaise stretched out on the leather sofa and stifled a yawn. He found yawns to be undignified, a sign that you were not only bored by proceedings (even though he was) but had let your guard down significantly. Both were bad ideas where he was. Theodore had just retired to bed and with that the intelligence quotient of the Slytherin common room had been significantly lowered.
On the plus side, the assortment of simpering fifth year girls had nanced off not long after Theodore and the room was now empty. Unlike the fifth years Blaise liked Theodore well enough, as much as he could like anyone in the school, but his prefered company still came in a six foot package and a shirt and pair of trousers minimally rumpled considering that he had donned them sixteen hours earlier. Conscious of his appearance and the impression it gave others, he had actually performed an ironing charm over his clothes on the sly. Again, not something he would prefer to share. Crabbe and Goyle might cast the sort of stipulations one with their lack of imagination might make about a well-groomed male who didn't attempt to hump the leg of anything in a skirt. Blaise smiled at that. He was picky but then he could afford to be. Ironic that in spite of their lack of standards other than the witch being pure, the chubbier two of his dormmates could not pull to save their lives.
It was a Monday night so by the looks of things he was going to remain undisturbed. Reaching for his book, a well-done satire of Malecrit's Helas, J'ai Transfigure Mes Pieds, he prepared to relax fully for the first time that day.
Sadly but not completely unpredictably, it wasn't to be. A high-pitched scream sounded down the stairs, followed by a cry of "OH NO HE DIDN'T!" Tucking a bookmark back into the satire, Blaise sat up and waited for the onslaught.
No sooner than he had done so then Pansy Parkinson was upon him, eyes narrowed and hands propped on hips. "Blaise Zabini!" she blurted out. "I have something truly disgusting to tell you!"
What, you and Draco finally consummated your relationship? Blaise wanted to ask. Even if - on the other hand - he really didn't want to know the answer. However, he did not ask. He merely raised one eyebrow a fraction of an inch and said, "Oh?"
"Oh?" sufficed. As usual, Pansy was used to functioning on autopilot. "Blaise Zabini!" she repeated. Yet again. Ho hum. "Would you or would you not class having SEX with a Muggle as bestiality?"
"Er," he said, privately thinking that copulating with Crabbe or Goyle would be closer to the mark. In front of Draco he would have never paused in such a telling manner, but Pansy was typically too dim to pick up on such things. She went off onto a diatribe of who had slept with what and how DISGUSTING it was and how she was simply APPALLED. Blaise paid attention long enought to realise that it had about as much of a point as her usual chatter, which had the sharpness of a feather pillow, and from that moment on only tuned in with half an ear, making sure to nod and articulate "mmm"-ing noises at all the right places. If he was a Muggle and aware of such things, he would have said that he could sense his brain cells bidding adieu every second Pansy spoke. Finally she was done. Or perhaps not. Typical. "Well, what do YOU think?" she demanded.
"I don't think shagging a Muggle is bestiality exactly," he said, sinking back into the sofa cushions with a laconic air. Then, when Pansy's lower lip plummetted to the stone floor in shock, he deadpaned, "In comparison to, say, shagging Ginny Weasley, that is."
"AHAHAHA HOW FUNNY YOU ARE!" Pansy brayed. Blaise resisted an urge to Scourgify his eardrum - and the brain contained within. "I agree that she's disgusting - and that family of hers! Really, is it normal to have that many children? I ask you!"
No you won't, well, not really. Again Blaise modified this thought with a shrug. Pansy as usual didn't need much more encouragement than this. On and on she went. It might have classed as a break from homework, he reflected, if it wasn't so headache-inducing. He schooled his features to a neutral expression and zoned out.