Writing Challenge - Magic

[in_the_blue]

Exactly a month ago, I posted my first writing challenge for all of you in my LJ. Afterwards, I took a poll and most people voted for me to run them monthly and in my LJ, as opposed to on some other time frame and in a new challenge community.

So. Monthly it is; in my LJ it is. Last month we focused on the sense of taste and I know there are still four more senses to go, but why be stuck in a rut?

Here's this month's loosely-defined DRABBLE challenge and the guidelines.

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Rules (Once again, Captain Barbossa reminds me they're more like guidelines):

• Fandom: any, so long as it's one you know well.


• Word count: 300 or less


• Main theme: Magic. Whatever that means to you or your character! Don't feel constrained by whether or not your character wields a wand, all right? And no comments necessary on the obvious double-entendre there.


• Ratings: No restrictions.


• Duration: 1 week. Challenge opens today and closes Tuesday, May 24.

Post your drabbles as comments to this entry. And yes, you can comment on other peoples' work. Feedback is always nice.

Ready, steady, go.

Comments

Magic, 255 words, written in the laundromat. HP: OC/Dogstar RPG

[blanche-malfoy.livejournal.com]

Blanche Malfoy, thirteen and a half years old, hated magic.

When anyone did magic around her, it took all of her will not to run from the room. She learnt about it through books so she might be able to know what she had to fear. Blanche had no hope of ever being able to do it. There was no way she would ever be able to acquire a wand.

She remembered, shortly after she’d come here to Siberia, that she had desperately wished that she’d been born a Muggle, with Muggle parents. Muggles could only imprison with bars or chains, after all.

Physical. Fallible.

Escapable.

Not so with magic. One needed knowledge to escape. One needed a wand. Two things she didn’t have and had no hope of ever having.

She looked up. Her window was open, and she could see the early spring day. She could breathe the air. She could feel it upon her face.

In a way, that made it worse.

Sometimes, she went to the ballroom, with its floor-to-ceiling windows. She would press up against them as closely as she was able, her nose pressed against the glass. She could almost feel as if she were outside, then.

Blanche put her hand up to the open window, feeling the soft breeze caress her fingers. She closed her eyes. So lovely.

Her hand strayed too far, and at the burning sensation created by the wards, she snatched her fingers back before the alarms started to go off.

Blanche Malfoy hated magic.

Re: Magic, 255 words, written in the laundromat. HP: OC/Dogstar RPG

[in-the-blue.livejournal.com]

:( Poor Blanche.