Shit, I've been away from this for way too long. Sorry, I was busy trying to graduate and also getting a bit deep into Pathfinder. But fear not, those of you who still may be here, I return with more Rose Potter! Which I was gonna do months ago but I closed the page I was writing on and lost my work and went "fuck it."
Now, let me see where I left off on the previous page, because I stopped halfway into chapter 2. There is a reason for this.
It's easy to be a critic, sometimes, to emulate your Yahtzees or your Plinketts and come up with scathing remarks when you find an error or a plot contrivance and blow it open. And we have a laugh. But we often forget that when people write stories, they're sharing with you a piece of themselves, and even if you're the most gracious accepter of criticism, it can still sting when you see someone tear apart your work. I don't think I fully understood that back when I started this blog. If I were to redo it all I think I might be a little nicer. I don't know. I want to be funny and a good critic, but I also want to be an empathetic and understanding (and, well, good) person. I think that self-inventory is an important thing.
And then I see "lotus position" and I go fuck it I'm going in!
“Apprentice,” said Cerelian chastisingly, “even though you are supposed to get by on your own this week, does not mean I stop watching and observing you. And besides, I felt the Glen’s magic being disturbed in a menacing way, I know you couldn’t have the knowledge to do so. And I assumed you were under attack.”
“Well, a house-elf wanted to imprison me within the Glen, but I teleported out of it before the elf could finish, it’s also responsible for preventing all my letters from finding me,” I pointed to the stack of mail.
“Why would a house-elf do that?” asked Cerelian curiously.
“Well, I had a chat with Dobby, before he tried to imprison me; apparently there is a plot to do most terrible things, his words, at Hogwarts this year. He came to warn me. And because he thinks I am too valuable to lose, he stops my mail to make me think my friends don’t like me, so I won’t go back,” I explained shaking my head.
“Oh,” said Cerelian frowning, “it has nothing to do with Voldemort?”
“Apparently not,” I answered.
“You said you teleported?” asked Cerelian uncertainly.
“That’s what I call it, yes, it first happened when I was at Muggle school and being chased by my cousin, I jumped behind the dumpster to hide, and the next thing I know, I’m on the school roof,” I laughed at the memory. “I had a physical defence teacher who helped me harness the ability, even though he clearly was not magical and couldn’t do it himself, he helped to remember what was going through my mind at the time, and to reproduce the effects reliably.”
“There is an ability called Apparition, that wizards learn, that transports them from one place instantly to another in the blink of an eye, it should not be possible to perform it in the Glen,” said Cerelian. “Can you do it again?”
I nodded from my seated position and concentrated again, the world shifted and warped and I was now ten meters away from my previous spot. I teleported back and ripped open a letter from Hermione.
“Well,” said Cerelian obviously impressed, “I see you have the ability down pat. Then again, if you can teleport in the Glen, you can certainly teleport in any warded area, even Hogwarts itself.”
“I have thought of giving it a try,” I said, “but I do not want to advertise the ability, Professor Dumbledore is rather all knowing in Hogwarts, and knows most everything that happens.”
“If that is your decision, I will respect it,” said Cerelian, “and your mother?”
“I trust my mother,” I said, “but not Professor Mc Gonagall; she is a stickler for rules and would report it to the Headmaster.”
“They are one and the same person, Apprentice,” said Cerelian, “if you approach your mother as such, she will keep your confidence I believe.”
“I suppose you are right, Cerelian,” I said, “I will tell her then.”
“Good,” nodded the druidess, “I shall let you get back to your solitude. I shall however be close, in case the house-elf has second thoughts.”
Cerelian turned and disappeared into the trees. I sighed and started reading.
Here's what I call "The Plinkett Test."
"Describe the following Star Wars character WITHOUT saying what they look like, what kind of costume they wore, or what their profession or role in the movie was."
Except instead of Star Wars it's just gonna be, like, various characters from fanfiction and also media. Including Cerelian here from Rose Potter.
Note a few things. First, notice how they seem to like Brother White, and therefore you should read The Book of Friendship. Second, notice that Snipehamster, who was about as critical of Fallout: Equestria as I was and who clearly doesn't like Monterey Jack, can describe Monterey Jack's personality enough that he can say what he doesn't like about him. That, dumb children, is what separates stories that have problems from stories that are legit shit.
The only person here who can actually give something of a run-down for Cerelian in terms of character and shit is Sereg, who once did a fuckheug blog post about fucking Flash Sentry from Equestria Girls. So yeah. Cerelian is not a good character. In fact, the author of Rose Potter, whenever he brings in an OC, never really manages to give them, like... characterization.
Also, Rose has a new superpower. Teleportation. It's like apparation, except better.
“This is where your training ends for this summer Apprentice,” said Cerelian, “you are far from finished and I guess that after another four summers you will be ready to be called a druidess among us and have your true name.”
That's not a joke. That happens.
“It has been an honour to teach you my Apprentice,” said Cerelian,
Do I still got it? Probably not.
So Cerelian tells her she has to practice because Malcolm Gladwell says you needs ten thousand hours to get good at something and gives her her amulet.
I forgot how much fun it was to be petty. Also, remember how in Chamber of Secrets we had that fun break-out of the barred window? Not going to happen! This is a mature rewrite of the story for discerning adults, and discerning adults hate things like "fun" and "suspense" and "action" and "things that aren't totally fucking boring."
... ... ... ... ...
Whew. Sorry about that. My Monty Python penalty wristband just put me into a brief coma.
It touched down, with a loud thump! And tires were screeching and not a few moments later I was staring through the passenger window of a turquoise car. And someone was goggling through the window at me: a freckle-faced, red-haired, long-nosed someone.
Ron Weasley.
Good to be back. Hopefully I'll be able to update a bit regularly now. I'm gonna be continuing with this as well as with Fallout Equestria: Memories. That is, assuming I can stick with my goals. I don't really have an excuse, but when has that ever stopped me?
Anyway, I may also be starting some other liveblogs for stuff. I'll keep you posted. As long as I'm actually posting.
Comments
- I was barely back in the Glen when I heard slivers of footfalls approaching,
- Does this person just have some kind of irrational hatred of periods? There are soooo many comma splices in the parts you excerpted.
- I see you have the ability down pat. Then again, if you can teleport in the Glen, you can certainly teleport in any warded area, even Hogwarts itself.
- you are far from finished and I guess that after another four summers you will be ready to be called a druidess among us and have your true name.
- Two bright spots of light caught the upward corner of my eye.
- It touched down, with a loud thump! And tires were screeching and not a few moments later I was staring through the passenger window of a turquoise car.
- If I were to redo it all I think I might be a little nicer.
