Let whoever is most likely to end up cleaning the living room decide :) You'll move things around anyway over time, so getting it perfect to begin with is impossible; you just need access to the things you'll use most, and to make sure the TV screen doesn't get sunlight falling on it. Well done on everything being moved in though, and I hope that this last day of your four-day weekend is more relaxing! My move has been intended for about 8 months but Corona slowed a lot of things down. Mostly it's because the landlord has a new flat that's just (now) being finished and he owns the building I'm currently in. There's a company lower down the building that want more space so the plan is for me to move to the new flat, not too far away and actually closer to work, and they'll get the space they want.
Walls Ronnie went into the Four Network second, with Hermione stepping in a few seconds after he'd disappeared. There had been no screaming, no hideously burned and disfigured bodies popping back out, and no ghostly apparitions so it looked like the key was safe after all. She had had the key for a few weeks, but certainly wasn't daft enough to trust a Boggart to tell the truth, no matter how much it was dangled by its ankles over the drop from the top of Angel Tower. Using Harry as the test subject had been an easy one: it was like using a lab rat only they, from her reading, seemed more intelligent. A little voice in the back of her head murmured that Harry might have been too, if he'd not been Obliviated so much but she ignored that voice. It didn't know what it was talking about. There was a sensation of speed, of walls rushing past her very fast and sometimes through her and a cold wind against the back of her knees, and then she completed her step and was stood on a grimy tiled floor in a cold hallway. Behind her was a grandfather clock that looked as though it had never been dusted, and whose face was rusted into a solid mass. The hands were permanently stopped at 2 minutes to midnight, which sounded oddly familiar to her, though she couldn't place why. The hallway extended left and right, and cold, grey light came in from both ends. There were pictures on the walls; framed photographs of unhappy-looking people, and the wallpaper looked greasy. Harry was standing placidly a metre or so away, and Ronnie was being held, an equal distance away in the other direction, by what looked like a very short, very down-on-his-luck, American Private Investigator. He was wearing a beige raincoat and an oversized trilby and black driving gloves. Ronnie was struggling to get free and gasping, and Hermione realised that the very, very short PI was holding him by the throat, despite that his shoulders were only just slightly above Ronnie's knees. "Another one!" growled the PI. "Master Harrington, what shall I do with this one?" "Master Harrington?" asked Hermione, raising an eyebrow. Ronnie choked. "They're together," said Harry dreamily. "Keep them together." "Keep your paws off me," said Hermione, reaching for her wand. "Garbagium!" yelled the PI letting go of Ronnie's neck and pointing his hand at her. She started to dismiss him as insane but her hand jerked and her wand, barely free from its holster, flew backwards and landed on the floor in front of the grandfather clock. "Stop!" yelled Ronnie. "You're going to regret that," said Hermione, reaching for her back-up wand.
2 comments:
Let whoever is most likely to end up cleaning the living room decide :) You'll move things around anyway over time, so getting it perfect to begin with is impossible; you just need access to the things you'll use most, and to make sure the TV screen doesn't get sunlight falling on it. Well done on everything being moved in though, and I hope that this last day of your four-day weekend is more relaxing!
My move has been intended for about 8 months but Corona slowed a lot of things down. Mostly it's because the landlord has a new flat that's just (now) being finished and he owns the building I'm currently in. There's a company lower down the building that want more space so the plan is for me to move to the new flat, not too far away and actually closer to work, and they'll get the space they want.
Walls
Ronnie went into the Four Network second, with Hermione stepping in a few seconds after he'd disappeared. There had been no screaming, no hideously burned and disfigured bodies popping back out, and no ghostly apparitions so it looked like the key was safe after all. She had had the key for a few weeks, but certainly wasn't daft enough to trust a Boggart to tell the truth, no matter how much it was dangled by its ankles over the drop from the top of Angel Tower. Using Harry as the test subject had been an easy one: it was like using a lab rat only they, from her reading, seemed more intelligent. A little voice in the back of her head murmured that Harry might have been too, if he'd not been Obliviated so much but she ignored that voice. It didn't know what it was talking about.
There was a sensation of speed, of walls rushing past her very fast and sometimes through her and a cold wind against the back of her knees, and then she completed her step and was stood on a grimy tiled floor in a cold hallway. Behind her was a grandfather clock that looked as though it had never been dusted, and whose face was rusted into a solid mass. The hands were permanently stopped at 2 minutes to midnight, which sounded oddly familiar to her, though she couldn't place why. The hallway extended left and right, and cold, grey light came in from both ends. There were pictures on the walls; framed photographs of unhappy-looking people, and the wallpaper looked greasy. Harry was standing placidly a metre or so away, and Ronnie was being held, an equal distance away in the other direction, by what looked like a very short, very down-on-his-luck, American Private Investigator. He was wearing a beige raincoat and an oversized trilby and black driving gloves. Ronnie was struggling to get free and gasping, and Hermione realised that the very, very short PI was holding him by the throat, despite that his shoulders were only just slightly above Ronnie's knees.
"Another one!" growled the PI. "Master Harrington, what shall I do with this one?"
"Master Harrington?" asked Hermione, raising an eyebrow. Ronnie choked.
"They're together," said Harry dreamily. "Keep them together."
"Keep your paws off me," said Hermione, reaching for her wand.
"Garbagium!" yelled the PI letting go of Ronnie's neck and pointing his hand at her. She started to dismiss him as insane but her hand jerked and her wand, barely free from its holster, flew backwards and landed on the floor in front of the grandfather clock.
"Stop!" yelled Ronnie.
"You're going to regret that," said Hermione, reaching for her back-up wand.
Greg - sounds like the move is a win for everybody then! That's as good a reason to move as any I've seen.
Well the PI was a decidedly unexpected arrival! And a very interesting one as well, obviously. I'm curious to see how this bit develops.
Post a Comment