Saturday, June 21, 2008

Lindsay Dwan Kckenzie



First prompt use of settepeccati. A picture of an idyllic pastoral life, characters Sirius Black and James Potter dipped in sweet idleness.

Title: angle
Author: suni

Fandom:
Harry Potter Character: Sirius Black

Prompt:
02. Sloth
Rating: G

Word Count: 2245
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, and we do not gain anything to write about it.

Notes: There's a little 'me in this scene. A bit 'much ...



CORNER

"You know what can we do?"

The tone in which James speaks is not even really question, the question itself is nothing but a distracted grumbling, mumbling and scratching his belly pale under his jacket chipped, stretching legs over the edge of the bed with a stretched almost voluptuous.

Moreover, Sirius knows the answer, the same for ten days now. In fact, merely yawning, nodding vaguely, looks at the best friend, who nods in turn without moving or adding anything, then you leave to go backwards, landing with a muffled thud on the cushion previously accommodated in the ground, the edge of the carpet. It looks bare legs beneath the hem of his shorts svagatamente, before blowing it by throwing his head back. The black hair on the pillow listless draw an arc, following its slow motion.

"We could also eat something," suggests James careless, ruffling his hair and rubs his face on the cover.

"I thirst," Sirius mutters - could be either an agreement or an observation tank - rolling slowly to move to the side, so do not have to strain to bend his head to see his friend.

"So come on," James states without any emphasis. Even collects your legs again, curled up on the best mattress.

Sirius yawned again. Lately, in fact, does almost nothing else, it is numb. It's a bit 'strange for him, passing his whole life to get excited like a top, running from side to side and devising the most frantic machinations, spend so much time to gape in that way, rub his eyes and dangling from the chair, the bed and the carpet. Remus, however, says that often yawns when they are relaxed, and certainly when Sirius Black, in spite of the fact Black, legacy and his status uncertain, it is definitely a laid back guy.

These are the first real holiday for years and years ago that in this part: weeks whole that is not required to do absolutely nothing , without a single duty, even a vague compulsion. Yes, it could do the holiday homework but I think in a few days - will copy those of Remus. For the rest, no minimum commitment not: not even the inconvenience of having to smile at his father's business partners or to listen to the complaints of Walburga, behave decently with their guests or tolerate retaliation for attitudes deemed indecent. A Potter house the only thing to do is not eat enough to die of starvation.

"I think we can appeal with a jug of juice," suggests James, in a hoarse whisper and disinterested.

"Do it," confirms Sirius squinting.

glimpse of the man, who searches him, then reaches out blindly testing the bedside table and snorts so upset.

"You do it," he muttered then, lazy. "My wand is far away," he says plaintively.

"Mine is in there somewhere," Sirius replication, without moving a muscle are not essential to speak, mumbling to another that does not involve the lips, and even those as little as possible.

James sighs in resignation, as being faced with an insurmountable obstacle.

"We could not drink," says Sirius accommodating, more languidly sinking his head into the pillow. James did not even answer, slowly rubbing his elbow.

Sirius has discovered that he likes to lie on the ground to do absolutely nothing. The first few weeks after his arrival from the Potters spent in a whirlwind of racing, laughter, adventurous undertakings in the countryside and generalized un'esagitarsi mainly due to the fact that they were Padfoot and Prongs, for on their own, on vacation, so no lessons, no teachers, no rules: the utter degeneration of their indomitable spirit and libertarian of Marauders. They talked so much that came in the evening with sore throat and hoarse voice, sore from the outdoor life which is not usual. Then, day after day, their rates have leveled off in a slow idle routine that he unexpectedly finds enjoyable.

is merely stretched, without moving, by saying a few words from time to time. There on the carpet, as now, or in any other place.

"So, are we going?" The collecting James lazy voice.

"Ok," he agrees, raising his head painfully.

Yes, because every time they move.

Only when he sees his friend actually authorized to sit quietly with a whimper, Sirius also resolves to turn the elbows on the ground to pry and lift the back. She rolls her head, loosening the neck numb, while the other puts his feet with difficulty in house slippers, mumbling when the left eluded him and bounces a few inches away. Sirius looks at him and decides to put so much distressed that he will remain barefoot to spare this discomfort.

He gets up when he sees James standing - not just before - and in doing so holds out a hand, James looks dazed for a moment and then catches it with a slight reluctance, giving him the momentum needed to straighten up and nothing more .

"A cheese sandwich," mutters almost to himself, going out of the room.

"And the juice," reminds him of Sirius, prance down the stairs below.

In the kitchen there is Mrs. Potter, who oversees the cooking of the jam browsing il giornale.

“Bentornati tra i vivi,” li saluta divertita, strofinando le mani nel grembiule. “Il riposino รจ stato di vostro gradimento?”

James annuisce, con fare sostenuto.

“Dovevamo digerire,” spiega compito.

Sua madre gli lancia una scherzosa occhiata di rimprovero, prima di annuire comprensiva.

“Certo. E poi, essendovi alzati alle undici, era naturale che verso l’una e mezza sentiste il bisogno di stendervi un poco,” commenta, appena dry but vaguely condescending smile. He waves his wand and the flame under the cauldron is lowered, by shutting down the hum of the dense jam sobbollente.

"We have some victuals?" Asks James sugary smelling the aroma.

"Jimmy, do not let it eat and sleep. Your friend will stand you bored to death, "says the disapproving mother, glancing at Sirius in search of confirmation.

He slams his eyes almost in disbelief, gathered just in the shoulders, then Mirtle Potter pays homage to the charming, captivating smile thanks in which virtually all adults on earth give heed to whatever he says, then shakes her head to resign.

"No, sir," said Elan. "I'm not bored at all, but thank you," he points out, with further enlargement of the bright smile.

James's mother looked at him for a few seconds, skeptical, and then shrugs his shoulders closer to the pantry.

"Okay," said practice. "Let me give you a couple of sandwiches," he says eagerly.

James and Sirius snorts satisfied leaves against the chair back, partly in order to free the legs of trouble to hold his weight.

"Tonight I dine out and your father, Jimmy," said the mother then, spreading butter on bread. "But we will come back soon and I will not find two drunken teenagers vomiting in the bathroom, got on?" He adds sarcastically.

"Mom!" James protested indignantly. "It 's been incidental"

Sirius grins to himself, hiding the face in the smoothed his hair with his hand. A few nights after his arrival, Mr and Mrs Potter he and James were out and partied too much vigor. Arnold is a bit if the 'plug and found his whiskey on the table of special reserve completely empty, but then he reached his wife upstairs and when they saw their young guest in London with his head stuck in the water burst out almost sadistically laughing, ignoring even scold violently that his son had been in similar conditions.

"Yes, dear," said Mirtle with a knowing air. "It was just to remember, you never know."

hands it to Sirius two sandwiches wrapped in handkerchiefs and James, with air still extremely outraged, brim fills a pitcher of pumpkin juice.

"I keep in mind, ma'am," Sirius says with zeal.

"We're going out," James says solemnly, putting the door.

When Sirius, after a last smile, the mimics, the blinding light of the day forced him to close his eyes, in step stumbles, and leaps to regain balance and slams on his friend.

"Godric damn!" He protests, that the shock has been turned on him a little 'juice. "Black, Watch your step, "he added, bending his leg back in stretching a slight kick.

"I do not see anything. But because there is so much sun? "Sirius protested, blinking his eyes repeatedly.

"Homage our beauty?" Suggests James chuckled.

Sirius grins, shrugging his shoulders. It does not matter, as in ' corner there is no sun.

angle , as they call him a few days, is the small Marauders of the afternoon on vacation paradise. In 'corner no shadow, because a high beech him away from sunlight, giving a gentle melody of rustling leaves. In 'corner 's cool, because it is located right next to the basement and the wall betrays the cool outside. In 'corner but not cold, because the wall that protects it from wind. In ' corner, finally, there is a large, comfortable hammock suspended in midair.

James jumps up with a lazy leap, he collapsed with a crash while Sirius soft grass. Both sigh of relief, as if they had completed a march of miles.

"Pass the sandwich," says James, extending his hand.

"Spring juice, 'said Sirius, throwing one of the two bundles.

He pants a happy time has been exchanged, and then stretches up, drinking a long throat until reaching the horizontal position does not prevent him from swallowing liquids. Stretch your arm to put the jug on the floor, unmoving, all four limbs stretched with neglect and staring into cropping blue sky almost white peeps through the foliage of the beech. The grass tickles the neck and forced him to light the sky keep your eyes almost closed. Only the slow breath in my ears by James and some animal sounds from a distance, lulled by the rustle of leaves.

"Can you working on?" James asked in a low voice, rocking slowly.

Sirius grins, stretching his legs with languor.

"Today ... History of Magic," decides, after a brief hesitation.

"So the feather with blue ink," says James first bite of a bite.

"Yes. Ha ... the book open in front, "he adds, closing its eyes to free the imagination," and those usually written two hundred sheets thick. "

" and mutters, "points out James drawled. "Mutters continuously repeating the salient phrases."

"Without ever stopping," Sirius agrees, laughing softly.

"And the new notes on a sheet of paper, one for each chapter," James continues, satisfied.

"She writes in block letters here and there, things like this is important and remember this step," says Sirius, before yawning again.

"And everything in chronological order."

said James moans, swaying in the hammock to collapse better, and he feels - even if it seems impossible - grin. It also, indirectly.

"Can you imagine a better way in which we could do my homework?" Said amused.

"If there was Moony, have to be invented," agrees James sly.

Sirius emits one last long sigh, as he risks the silence. Their conversation slowly dying without reason, as it had begun: one of the customs that have developed over the last few days, reducing the constant chatter about something more sporadic. They are often silent, do nothing.

Sirius But think again, while breathing deeply studying the way the sky seems to swing between the branches, which really is not boring at all, as told Mirtle Potter. He does not need to always be something to babble with James - could do it, however: do not ever run out of conversation topics - and loves the way that their silence can be so intimate and comfortable. The fact is you do not need to have an addictive pastime playing around with which to feel good when they are together: just the mutual presence, even silent, but still. Sirius he is very proud, because this does not happen with anyone else. It's usually a guy who gets bored easily, which needs constant stimuli, but there, the yellow house of Potter, can spend entire afternoons listening to the silence shared lounge.

It focuses on the feeling of fresh grass stems that touch his neck, the base of the ears. The earth beneath your head is firm, but soft. He seems to become incorporated as a seed and almost did not notice as her eyelids fall, slowly, up to the sky to disappear from his view.

... Mbra a snake, "the sleepy voice of James collects.

"What?" He croaked whisper.

"The branch, trailing his friend in a tone of exhausted. "It looks like a snake."

Sirius sighed dazed, before chuckling softly.

"What we put your mother in that sandwich? Hallucinogens? "

" Maybe I was dreaming, yes, "concedes James muttered. "You know, those images between sleep and wakefulness," he says absently.

Sirius murmurs assent before contrite sigh.

"Hand me the juice?" Plaintive question.

"But that's beside you," argues James, laughing.

"I do not want to move the arm. Can you take the jug to his lips? "Replies Sirius closed his eyes again. It would be perfect if she could drink without moving, for achieving the absolute-nothing.

You are basking in the thought inconclusive when suddenly feels the chill of the liquid that slides over the neck, the hair and face, while James, standing next to him, cheeky grins. Sat up shooting with a shudder.

"Little stinker!" She exclaims, jumping up threatening, but James has already taken away laughing. It launches running after him, the more steps for the heavy stupor, while screaming provocations and insults jumping low fences and flowering bushes.

Arnold Potter, intent to treat his tomatoes, watches them pass along the edge of the garden as well, running between threats and shoving, and smiles.

"Youth," he mutters to himself. "Where will all this energy ..."


Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Pain Jaw Below Ear Drink Alcohol

Megalomaniacs Incontenibile

Yeah. As my usual tantinello are exaggerated.
short, the BDT has only 100 prompt, after all. Why so little limited to using only forty-five years ending ? Why not get, for example, to 107?
Eh, yes. Considering this obvious need to flesh out a bit 'so short a list of topics, I thought to join the community

[info] settepeccati , of course, always with Sirius. Dear Pad and deadly sins, already I feel full of joy.
And waiting to be included in here, dear, the table in question: \u0026lt;/ span>



01 ) Ira

02) Sloth

03) Lust

04) Avarice

05) Gola

06) Envy

07) Pride

Progress: 01/07



Hoping that I will not die from too much writing. Report it here the link as the fic will be written, just like the Table. Happy, eh? The suni, do you think of a hundred makes and maybe it's more the opposite .

Monday, June 16, 2008

Arcade Alley Electronic Laser Fx Bowling Manual

asmesia @ 2008-06-16T17: 14:00

Now do I play this, kindly lent by Nenya, but I came very well. _.

Uh.

Ah, I also appeal to programs glimpsed xd.

1. Sometimes angels do not obey any command, like "thou shalt not steal" or "Honor your father and mother" or "do not kill."

2. Horns and invisible arms, who said that girls are easy prey?

3. Water, earth, lightning, wind and fire ... 5 5 warriors with different powers.

4. has the equipment, large glasses, she sings well and is looking for his dad.

5. is an adorable little girl with a toy speaker, a wand that lights up is in many lights and a wardrobe of clothes to combat unique.

6. knock on wood if you see it! Here the child more interested in the murders and crimes in the world!

7. When a hunter may be the most adventurous and difficult job in the world.

8. Who said that all pirates are bad? Curses, kraken, ghost ships, closed hearts in chests and more!

9. I wish, I wish, I wish, I wish ... and I have let my parents are my orders!

10. Books about magic and the school written by one of the richest women in the world.

Gay Homemade Clip Buy

Had Enough ...

Title: Had enough of Their pure-blood mania

Fandom: Harry Potter

Character: Sirius Black

Prompt: 094. Independence

Rating: PG13

Summary: 1977: the Black family loses its direct heir.

Notes: taken in advance of my Perfect Family , this fragment seems to be regarded as a scene in itself. He wants to be an attempt to look beyond the time - and dismissive - a tale about Harry in 1995 (hence the title).




Perfect Piece of My Family - Act III , so heavy with anticipation for those who were following the fic, which is greatly lagging behind at this point. If this does not dissuade you, I present my version of this cathartic moment in the life of Sirius.

Many things may not be clear because - well, why not find out what has happened in the previous seventeen years. Is not serious, however, and I hope that you can imagine something this small excerpt of family relationships, the reasons for each and the situation.

The title is taken from the words of Sirius itself at the time of OOP. His explanation of the escape of the house is a bit simplified, in my opinion, and I wanted to go further.

PRETEND for comments on this (ehehe-AHM).

suni

HAD ENOUGH OF PURE-BLOOD MANIA Their

was always the same story.

He had just had time to finish speaking with the dry tone and provocative always been reserved for family members, her mother already stiffened with vehemence.

"You! Filthy blood traitor! Disgusting degenerate "howled Walburga, beside himself with rage, jumping up so violently as to overturn his chair. "Breed ..." he continued, while the violent trembling of his hands, announcing a new crisis.

"Walburga, 'said Orion firmly under the gaze of Regulus and the grim terror of the firstborn. "Controlled."

"inept ... miserable! I am ashamed of you, you disgust me ... "he continued ignoring his wife, to leap to his son.

"It 'a mutual thing," replied the boy with the challenge.

Orion stood up abruptly, willing to take it back violently, but did not have the time: the hand of Walburga struck on the cheek of his son with such force as to make him turn his head back. It was the first time in his life that his mother hit him.

"disgusting ungrateful! Appears perverse of the lowest ... "cried the woman giving it a shake, lacking any control, while Sirius remained motionless and almost inert, face shot, for a few interminable seconds, during which his father rushed to grab the wrists of wife and tighten the arms, to compel it to calm down despite his squirming furiously.

"Kreacher," intimate, "the potion."

If it was not focussed on Walburga might have caught the true expression of hatred across the livid face of his direct heir, while that for his part Regulus hastened to get up from his chair, pick up her mother's and take the fork that she had dropped on the ground, as if there were legions of elves ready. While his father struggled to make a soothing drink to Walburga, Sirius turned and left the room without a word, his hands trembling with anger. He climbed the stairs feeling the saturation due to six years of increasingly violent conflicts and misunderstandings reach the point of no return pouring into his lungs in an explosion of frenzy and frustration, and when he entered his room he knew what he would do.

Orion had managed to sit Walburga, who was under the effect of calming sedative. With a gesture of fatigue and bitterness rubbed, twice a hand over his face and remained standing beside her, before realizing the absence of the boy and looked resigned to Regulus.

"Where is your brother?" churches, with icy anger.

"Upstairs," the child murmured Aton.

not looked up at her father. He was tired. He was tired of shouting, of quarrels and anger, he was tired of seeing their family falls apart. The accumulated resentment against his brother's gripped the bowels, even more violently when he saw his mother burst into tears a weak nervous.

Orion nodded briefly, poured water and swallowed, gasping for breath.

"Go, call," gave exhausted.

"No," Regulus whispered eagerly. "It 's an asshole."

His father gave him an angry glance of reproach, before putting the cup and walk out of the hall, toward the bottom of the stairs.

"Sirius!" He called angrily. "Sirius Black, come here now! Now! "Intimate, stamping his foot on the ground.

Only a faint commotion he heard the ear in response, increasing his anger.

"I said come here!" Shouted, losing his temper.

"So what does what he likes," Regulus said angrily from the other room. His mother sobbed, as if to confirm his words.

"I do not think the time for extemporaneous comments," growled his father just turned in his direction. "Sirius, do not let me repeat again," he added, raising his voice again to a scream.

He heard the bedroom door open in the boy's silence.

"I'm coming," announced the impersonal voice quivering and his son, before the door and the bustle richiudesse resumption unchanged.

Orion exhaled loudly, amazed at so daring. The frustration built up over many years of litigation, made bitter by the slow and painful, growing evidence of a misunderstanding that had grown progressively more marked up to create an unbridgeable distance, the burning in your lungs making it difficult to breathe normally.

Beyond the closed door of his room, Sirius closed shooting the trunk with a violent gesture. He decided that he would go to James and asked him to host it, or better to recommend a place to camp, until his father and mother had not taken note of the simple fact that he was the person who had wanted it, willingly or unwillingly, and that simply could not become. Otherwise would have thought about what to do once made his Magus. It was obvious to him first that this absurd situation could not continue, that made no sense to continue to live under a roof where his presence was not an element of disorder and instability, along with people who admired and despised . If you do not want him to understand, well, it would go.

He pointed his wand on the trunk and with a murmur that rose from the floor, levitating a few inches above the ground at that point opened the door, walked into the hall and started down the stairs with luggage fluttering behind him.

His father saw him so close, cold, combative, absolutely detached.

"The one thing I should be the case?" Attacked him furiously.

"My Storage. I'm leaving, "said the son, staring hard into his eyes.

"Look, Sirius ..." snapped the man, threatening.

"I do not intend to stay here," cried the boy impetuously, his voice rising. "I can not stand more than either you or that crazy! I can not stand what I do and I hate your fanaticism! "Cried, giving vent to impotence.

The coat of the Harpies his father's elbow, tugging furiously.

"Do not you dare to insult your mother! Where do you go from that babbanofilo your ridiculous Potter? "He hissed angrily.

"And you do not you dare to insult my friends!" Sirius replied, trying in vain to free himself. "They deserve the good person I am!"

He tried to break free from the strict father, trying to avoid it and jump towards the door, but stayed with the Orion will marble.

"It 's decision, Sirius, you're not coming in that school," said Ice, pulling it towards you until he was inches from his face and then looking into his eyes with all the authority he possessed.

He saw the boy's irises tinged with a genuine panic, as it was in a cage, before those new determination as he pulled to get free.

"I am an adult, I do what I want!" Said bold, with typical youthful expression.

"Not until my son," corrected him sharply Orion, in the grip of a sacrosanct exasperation and completely angry.

"So I do not want to be your son!" Sirius exclaimed, raising his voice.

Perhaps this dispute would continue and would be off like any other and so far it remains possible that Sirius to calm down, let cool off the anger and the baggage tisfying prepared pulse, but fate had decided otherwise.

His sentence had on the already tired of Orion such an effect, accumulating exhaustion and a sense of inadequacy for that relationship which had not been able to remedy defective, unable to recover his strange son lost a box for too long, that all she could do in anger, he was shoved by an involuntary movement of impatience. Pushed him away from you with all strength, tired, and Sirius stumbled into step behind his foot and lost his balance with a jolt of surprise.

Orion saw him start to fall and butting tightly against the wall, uneven and felt the thud of his head struck violently against the frame of the painting and its jolt of pain accompanied by a lament . He held out his hand while the momentum out of breath because he did not want, did not want to hurt him, he did not, was his son. He tried to grab his arm to help them but the boy struggled frantically with a sob, and his eyes filled with tears and ran his hand over his forehead to portray just stained with blood.

Orion almost groaned watching in horror as the blood of his son in disbelief because he had no intention to hurt him, never could.

"Sirius," he murmured in anguish, but the young man drew back and there was hate in her eyes.

"Do not touch me," hissed almost frightened, crossing his legs. "Do not you touch me ever again," he added in a voice vibrating with anger and rejection. His head was buzzing and hurt, the pain throbbed against his temple and ear. He also slammed his shoulder and felt the ache, stiff, with every movement.

"Sirius, calm down," said his father doing to get closer without even noticing the younger son who was looking anxious and desperate scene. "I did not want to hurt you. Lay down that trunk and tries to reason. Let me see that cut, "intimate incoherently, too angry, worried and guilty for exercising common sense.

"Do not I put anything. I'm leaving, " Sirius said, now completely shocked, turned around in the air as his chest.

"Sirius, stop!" Cried Orion, but the bewildered boy did not recognize his voice in prayer, only the order. And what was in his nature rebelled against the imposition by violence. He felt bad all over and tears blurred vision.

"I do not take more orders from you. Do not even think my father, you're just a bastard, "the attacked, clinging to door.

was too much. Orion felt the chill rise up in me and stood still while the expression on his face harden and her breath is unnatural calm. He tried as he could communicate with his son and he was sure that Sirius had tried to turn in the past. But there was no way. Stubborn to frenzy - like him, his eldest son, even more than that Regulus well as preferred - like two rams were thrown against each other and the distance that separated them was too great and absolute, as observed by the boy & rsquo ; other side of an abyss.

"If you go out that door now, never to return, because you will not be more open. I warn you, I am serious. You have my word of honor that if you go will not be part of this family tonight, as if it never existed, "he announced coolly, spitting venom and rancor. "Think about what you're doing," he added as if to warn him, he wanted to be treated as a grown man and would have been satisfied with all the consequences.

He did not know that that constraint was cathartic effect on Sirius, because among the things he never knew, things that Alphard had wisely tried to tell him, there was constraint to Sirius that reacted with the total rebellion. Did not notice the movement for emancipation and independence that shook him, but only saw him melt in an inexplicable smile, almost glowing, in which he recognized his own.

"do not ask for better," said Sirius tapping joy.

He turned back, stunned, momentarily forgetting than anything else, his brother did not notice on the door of the room, did not realize that anxiety across his face, replacing the usual coldness towards him. He passed the door and if you simply shut behind him.

Orion, motionless, she heard only the cries of animal suffering and rage of his wife and the bustle of the steps that Regulus ran away up the stairs, running up to her room and closes in . The boy threw himself on his bed and blinked his eyes, hiding his head under the pillow. It was not real, it was not true, it was happening to him, not his family.

His father, downstairs, staring at the door with an expression almost absent for a few seconds before turning and looking to push beyond the threshold of the room where his wife had abandoned against the table and cried softly, almost lifeless .

He turned back and staggered for a few steps, numb, to find himself in front of the stairs. He watched in a trance the picture frame into account when Sirius had hit his head, stretching hand almost touching it. He groaned, bringing it back to cover his mouth, and bending her head broke in tears for the second time in his life. Slid to sit on the step between gasps, sobbing quietly.

not be collected until he heard Walburga pass at his side, fast and decomposed. He hurried to get up and follow her upstairs, are in front of the tapestry of the family still pointed with her wand clutched in his trembling hand. From the empty hole occupied until then by the name of their eldest son went up the smoke and Walburga groaned with violence, beating her hand thin against the wall.

"Walburga," a choked voice called, grabbing his arms. She began to cry harder.

"Traitor, damn!" Sobbed distorted, weakly hitting her husband. "Filthy, dirty outcast! Disgusting, miserable ... "he shouted angrily, at the boy who could not hear," ... son, "whispered exhausted, melting tears in the arms of her husband.

Orion held her, remaining silent. There was nothing to say, Sirius had chosen a side, not theirs.

Saturday, June 14, 2008

Cheap Eagle Sperm Scooter Wheels



Title: Elements
Fandom: Harry Potter
Character: Sirius Black
Prompt: 054 , Air. 053, Earth. 051, Water. 052, Fire. 055, Spirit.
Rating: niet. It's good for everybody.
Summary:
When you have lived too long without the most basic components of normal life, you get closer to capture the real essence of things.
Notes : five flash connected
, n o scheduled pairing, only a lot of unnecessary mental and poetic ramblings.


So how to describe this thing following me ... Who else could it have read it already. You nata più di un anno fa, e proprio pensando alla BDT su Sirius, che però all’epoca non era mia. Five flashfic psychopathic enough that I personally find it - except the last - of a joy that almost sends me into ecstasy and I was assured that they are altogether depressing, but I do not believe it.

The connection between them is freedom. This is why I am so happy.

should be read in the order in which they are proposed, however, because they create with a follow-up. Four elements, plus one.

Good reading.

Elements

ran on all fours for hours, as he had ever run in my entire life, regardless of what or atrophied muscles tired and afraid. Racing until he thought he could not get farther, and only then he stopped, exhausted.

, he was a man, motionless and alone in the silent darkness of the dark countryside.

Air

Breathe.

Exhale.

Breathe.

Exhale.

oxygen along the trachea, lungs, blood. A fresh shock along the nerves, a caress that ran worn and weary muscles.

Another inspiro, more intense and long, before lifting his eyes timidly and are looking up.

Stars.

Heaven, finally, black and dark, sprinkled with tiny glow, flickering and shining. So much time had passed since the last time I saw him, he stopped for a few seconds to breathe, too filled with the sight to make room for air.

closed his eyes, take a breath before smiling again. A smile that would not be enough to tell a thousand years, it was so bright that even in pitch dark, brightened only by the moonlight white, his face widened instantly lost for a few seconds to return to the gloom hallucinated compose itself itself.

was that indescribable freshness on the skin, that breath of wind energy that made him slip on the pores, to drowning: fresh air, move, living twelve years after the deadly atmosphere of stagnant . A drive along the body, and inside, with oxygen clean as he entered and exited from his pockets like a soft caress.

the world as if she were him back to life with a hug.

Despite what he had done.

Only at that moment he opened his eyes, being back in front of the star light night sisters. And their glow controlled at least in part the rising sense of anxiety brought by quell'involontario thought, that invasion of dark and painful past at the time of rebirth. He breathed deeply again, bending her head back soon, while the Zozzo bush of hair floated on his back. He stepped forward, after the stunned stillness, tilted his head even further back and raised his arms without moving, feeling the touch of wind that seemed to want to lift off the ground.

Breathe.

Exhale.

slowly turned around, his arms drew a circle around the blast waved the filthy tunic that rocked him. Increased speed, wind against your face, arms, legs, flickering through the fabric and worn as a dance of drunken stunted. The air seemed about to let him fly.

Not a clear sound in the deserted and dark shadows of the branches, only that and that air hissing noise. Out of touch and out of time, a moment suspended between heaven and the reality, a reality that hateful for a while, finally stepped aside to enjoy the flight. Momentarily left the remorse and sorrow for leaving the new parts to oxygen, new life.

continued to turn his head until he is not too heavy, and with a long moan that freed the throat tablet is dropped sprawled on the ground, leaving the burden legs.

His heart bounced into his chest, he felt it again after so long beat, breathing accelerated pushing more air into the lungs, faster air.

landed quietly, his hands sunk in the grass.

Breathe.

Freedom.

Earth

Soft.

Soft and wet, the grass under your fingers, while the breath is calmed.

He clenched his fingers around these delicate stems, heard them with the whole skin of the hand, against the entire palm, rubbing it slowly, closing his eyes again.

shook and pulled, and it seemed as though the noise of the tear was like thunder, while his hand was holding the legs before flipping over him, causing it to rain on his head raised slightly upwards.

He put again the palms on the lawn and dug his fingers as he could.

held her breath and sank, lower down, under the grass. The soil was firm but soft, welcomed him as an old friend.

seemed that his fingers will merge with the land recovered, such as tree roots that penetrate deep. Same as those felt thirsty roots strength and energy come from the land, balsamic, which filled him with a shudder.

bowed his head as if to rest it up and smelled the fragrance of the soil, generous mother, recognized him with a jolt of pure astonishment, finding the essence in the memory, after years and years surrounded by the cold stone.

A sour smell, intense yet mellow, the fecund smell of the earth, the source of life. Mixed with the grass, and the air carried notes away. The land was all his own, again, everywhere, could walk on and touch and go. Like a tree, he could finally go back to plant his feet on the ground and reaching out with his head toward the sky.

He moved his hand to get stuck into the ground, squeezed and lifted it over to his face, opened a little finger.

the night, saw only a black spot on her skin clear, something dark and grainy, but that every inch of him to feel as he recognized himself, because he was human and was made of earth. And he smiled again, fully, before you expand a little ' passarsele hands and face, in a rough caress of falling soil and stain the face like a painting.

Rise in silence, just a loud voice but it seemed too strong for a man who could only escape. He felt suddenly discovered, and visible. In fact, already seen. With a shooting prompted by fear flattened to the ground as if to hide.

But there were other sounds, just the breath of the country asleep.

was lying on the Fosse most sumptuous mattress would feel uncomfortable in comparison to that wonderful feeling of ease and belonging. It was hard, the earth, yet so soft under his weight, it was like being at one. He closed his eyes again, breathe.

was a cradle, that soil, which lost for eternity, now that he had found.

He could just in time to be on the verge of falling asleep, opened his eyes shooting urgently.

had to get away from there, further away.

He rose reluctantly, but concentrated on the sensation of the soles of his feet on the ground, the scent still in the nose.

Breathe.

Smell, touch.

Freedom.

Water

That sound.

dog was back, to move faster, but when I heard he stopped.

A song whispered, sharp and thin, rustling.

And what was once a man who climb on all fours on the gentle slope between the trees, clinging to branches and roots to make faster, before leaning over the edge The up and launch an involuntary cry of amazement and wonder.

had come to the River.

broken my breath stood still and watched. The dim moonlight reflected on its white surface rays, reflecting them with pearls and iridescent glow, tiny vibrating waves flowing slowly. Reverberation of liquid light, unreal and ethereal: the eyes filled up to overflowing, as reflected in silver.

not seemed to have never seen anything more beautiful, you I live only for what she felt that her eyes looked, and shook his head following the melodious water lapping against the shore, like music without notes. From tympani nerves crept unearthly harmony, until you get to the heart and accompany the primordial rhythm as a whole, a restful lullaby.

surpasses the top of the ground is slippery, prance up to the riverside stumbling through the undergrowth and wet skid. Even hesitated before lasciasi fall forward.

The water was not deeper than ten inches, but he seemed to fall into the sea, every nerve ending that pleasure drowned in icy and refreshing. As a slap in the face of love, the water received him kindly singing more fun.

It was just what I heard moaning, perfectly in tune with the swish of the wave.

He moved his arms and pushed forward until completely wet, feeling the clean and pure that you took away years of fatigue, cold sweats and rinse muddy. The baptism of rebirth struck him, took a few arms forward until you reach a point where the deeper water pulled it off the ground.

And there, overjoyed, leaned on the back, staying still, barely moving his feet and hands to stay afloat, her eyes again to the stars and the lapping straight into your ears.

Alive, alive, alive, singing river. Welcome back, brother unfortunate.

Water supported him suspended between heaven and earth, as if it was immaterial and weightless. I cuddled her as a woman after making love, I remember vague and persuasive.

suddenly, he straightened up and plunged the whole head, holding my breath.

He opened his eyes and saw light blurred fiochissima, confused, a noise deaf ears and a gentle massage on the face. He stayed under until you feel your lungs burst and re-emerged with a long inhalation.

The water dripped on his face, rivulets of sewage beneficial.

slowly returned to the shore, gradually emerging, or perhaps being born.

stood still When he was out to hear the water running on him, he returned to watching her shine in the night and to hear his voice, ignoring the cold, however, which was used to. He shook up, watching the drops fall out.

smiled again.

Breathe.

Smell, touch.

Watch, listen.

Freedom.

Fire

He was cold.

twelve years.

dog too, was cold: it was wet through, tired and lost.

If he had only been able to warm up, a time only. Light a fire and sit in front of the flame. But they saw the smoke from afar. The night was too bright, it might have stood out in the sky, the smoke?

went on for a few dozen meters, Caracalla silent, velvet paws made no noise on the ground, seemed to choose for themselves the most stable point on which to rest.

They could not know they were looking for a dog. At the first sound would turn and no one would see. He had to warm up and sit a while, could not continue.

had to find a sheltered, hidden, and when identified the indentation in the rock wags his tail, before returning to the man.

picked up dead branches all around, shook them feel the weight light and the smell of the bark. He knew a fire, at least in theory. Rub two sticks, he repeated, rub them until they spark.

ripeterselo went on a stick while rubbing against each other making it swirl in the palms of hands together. It did not work, he could not. Wet hair were stuck to the face, the coat still dripping. The legs were shaking, dirty ground and foliage. Rub. Faster, more, without wetting the wood. Again. Faster.

shrieked, her voice a little boy, when the flame lit up the ground in front of him. He remained in a daze looking for a few seconds and take root, then added some stick, it worked. Other wood all around.

She sank down on the ground, how he had spent the last vestige of energy, her eyes wide and fixed on the flame that extended himself, his mouth ajar.

Tentatively, slowly, stretching out her trembling hands forward and stifled a groan.

warmth, feel it expand around the reddish glow of the fire, pushing around a reverb and trembling irregular space around him seemed more relaxing and friendly atmosphere tinged with a warm orange, but it did not matter, because he could not move his eyes.

The blackened wood and glowing embers glowed, and just above a red ghost danced her tongue veils in a gentle crackling, swings and it bends and tended upwards without ever stopping, and radiating light and steam heat. The air was leading the hypnotic dance of the flame guiding up, down, right, left, each language independently.

warming the skin, blood, muscles and heart. The generously wrapped in a passionate embrace and friend, after so many years that he was cold he was surprised to notice how it seemed at that time did not need anything else, ever again, except that fire is hot.

entire surface of his body took over power and increasingly stretched, we basked in the feeling of renewal and thawing of blood long forgotten. The warmth and rocked the last breath in a natural heartbeat normalized as it was not too long.

raised her eyes to the sky again, finding a breath of calm and clarity.

Breathe.

Smell, touch.

Watch, listen.

Heated, look.

Freedom.

Spirit

He looked at the sky.

The rational observer as if he had not seen it yet, and in a sense it was. With an open mind became aware of what happened, where he was and who he was there that night light.

Bright, yes, and looked for the first time clearly the Moon.

full moon.

started, man, watching the round pearl in the sky.

Night of the wolves. Night of werewolves, half expected to hear a howl.

Moony.

eyed moved from heaven to return to the flame, disoriented.

did not have believed it. This was reported in the fortress and he would die. Would never have believed it, Moony: he called the murderess, murderess and a traitor. Sold, miserable.

No. He had not done. She had not forgotten the promises, and the moon like that. Even if he could not forget.

remembered that other life, long ago. Centuries, perhaps hundreds of years. That guy who was always laughing and playing the rebel. He was so naive that boy, so silly. So confident, poor Sirius. He remembered how they remember someone who has known and then lost sight of, and made him tenderness and pain, because she was so innocent and Boccalone. That guy with clean hands, not stained with blood. Its dripping with it relentlessly, was covered with blood. But he remembered.

Moony, Padfoot.

Prongs.

Prongs. James.

eyes now looked at the soil properties, they looked lost and desperate. The man clutched his knees convulsively.

"It 's dead."

His voice was unreal, but it was not and he knew it.

was his blood on your hands. James was the blood that dripped from his fingers for twelve years, accompanied by mixed with the tears and sobs. She could not forget, not even wishing it.

He had killed his brother. He groaned in silence, put her hands to her face and held it there, narrow, claw-like skin. It was bloody, dirty, soul had the rotten and corrupt.

He wanted so much to save it.

had both hoped and prayed.

He squeezed his eyes with a painful grimace.

But it was not him.

It was not him.

Wormtail.

lifted his head almost growling.

That name had cursed all the time. Wormtail, Peter, cowardly traitor. Murderess of his brother, unclean be lower.

He clenched his fists in anger and hate, truth, wrote in his eyes which shine from the fire.

had to pay. The murderess was to be punished. At Hogwarts, he was there he would found, and would kill him, because he was right and because he wanted to.

He would have laughed and watched him die of joy.

He roused himself, staring.

Harry was at Hogwarts.

would see the son of James.

smiled, a glimmer of tenderness to make the human face ghostly.

poor orphan of the war, abandoned boy. This would see in a long time, his godson loved and lost. As a wish to embrace, to help him. He had promised, he had promised James.

suddenly invaded the desire to see it, now, to find healthy, safe. To look in his eyes the descendants of James: see it now.

He was no longer cold.

was time to go.

Free.