driftfleet | ᴏᴏ3 : ᴏғғʟɪɴᴇ

Entry tags:

ᴏᴏ3 : ᴏғғʟɪɴᴇ

Who: James Potter [

misterprongs]
Broadcast: Fleetwide!
Action: The Marsiva.
When: Now!

[ james potter now has access to a wand.

whether or not he asked for remus' wand, it is not known. the answer is probably not, but look, remus is a very forgiving individual, and while atroma apparently did not trust james with his own wand (rude), his much more responsible werewolf friend has his. and as remus is so kind, surely he wouldn't mind if james borrowed it for a moment or two.

which means --

if you are wandering about the ship, in random hallways, near rooms -- it is snowing. there is no rhyme or reason, but mysteriously, james seems to be present in the affected areas, his hands in his pockets, looking astonishingly calm for such freak weather occurrences. and once he leaves, the snow seems to leave with him, as if it were never there.

also, he might have left a snowman in front of your door, if he particularly likes you. it may also look exactly like you, with a few exaggerated features. and a mandatory hat.

it may also shriek NOOOOOOOOOO when you attempt to knock it over or move it out of the way. alternatively, the snowmen may follow you, but whenever you look at them, they stop moving and look awfully shifty.

weird, right.

after about an hour of this nonsense, james sends out a text message: ]

Anybody need warming up?

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[ sansa stark is utterly charmed by the sudden snow. charmed. in fact, james might find this particular member of the fleet caught in a bit of snowfall with her chin tilted up and her cheeks bared to the bizarre weather phenomenon.

and when he passes through, and the snow leaves with him? well, by the seven, she follows. at first she's only following the snow; she doesn't yet realize she's following him. ]

[ ah, he's got a shadow.

he allows sansa to wander behind him a bit before turning, the snow settling with a wave of his wand ]

Enjoying the snow, Lady Alayne?

It's beautiful. [ and it makes her breathless in its rare and nostalgic fashion. snow, without winter. grace without pain. sansa blinks away the few flakes that had fallen on her lashes and clasps her hands together. ] Is it yours?

[ in the back of her mind she understands she has a duty to make amends for her earlier lie -- to share her true name, perhaps. but the snow comes first. ]

It is.

[ it seems harmless to admit that to her, anyway, and james quickly flicks his wrist, a perfect snowball rising into the air, just at sansa's hands, within reach. ]

Wingardium Leviosa -- I decided the ship could use with a bit of cheer, couldn't it?

[ she reaches for the snowball with bare fingertips, sending it momentarily dipping and spinning through the air before her hand closes 'round the precious sphere. it's cold and it's painful, but it's hers now. ]

I'm not convinced everyone sees snow and cheers it, ser.

Aah, when it's temporary and harmless, of course they do. And if they don't, they're probably no fun to be around.

[ lightly -- sansa, at least, seems to enjoy it, so that's what matters for now. ]

You don't seem to mind it.

My home is -- [ she pauses, feeling the first sharp rivulets of water as the snowball melts against her skin. her jaw works side to side, and she realizes that sansa's home is very different from alayne's. if she undoes the lie now, then she's committed to making amends. ] Snow is common to my home. Common enough that it falls even during the summers -- the long and the short.

[ she is gripping that snowball awfully tight, and james' eyes flicker to the snowball briefly before refocusing on her face. ]

You must miss it.

[ clearly, judging from how happy she is with the snow, and how she inadvertently followed him about the ship. ]

Every day. Every moment. [ she speaks with a longing that reaches backwards well-beyond her arrival on this ship. ] Don't you miss your home?

[ james opens his mouth to brush it off, but -- she had been so honest with him. surely it'd be rude to be dismissive of her, especially when he's the one who asked.

so he sighs and pockets remus' wand, frowning to himself. ]

... I think I miss the people more than the place, but sometimes I wake up and think I'm going to wind up back in the castle. Or my room.

[ he misses sirius terribly, and peter, and playing quidditch, and writing his mum, and lily. he misses lily, and she's far better off not being stuck in space, but enjoying her days. ]

I think you'd be a bit mad not to miss your home, really, even if it's properly terrible. It's still home.

[ that's the problem, of course: westeros is properly terrible. but winterfell wasn't -- and it's winterfell she misses most. winterfell is the origin point for so many aches and daydreams. even now, as flakes melt on her sleeves, she thinks of the day she left it all behind. the world had been a different place, back then. ]

You live in a castle? [ oh, this cheers her. perhaps he's nobility. perhaps he's high born. ]

[ there's a brief laugh. ]

For most of the year -- I attend school in a castle. I live in a manor during the summer, with my parents.

[ not really nobility, though james likes to think he's chivalrous. ]

Fair bit smaller than a castle, but big enough, I suppose.

[ far too much for an older couple with an only son, but james keeps that opinion to himself. ]

[ archly: ] I was born in a castle.

[ of course she was -- with poise like that and words like these. once upon a time, it might have sounded like boasting. but now all she wants is to adequately communicate the depth of her desire to recapture that castle's atmosphere.

she brushes her wet palms together. she dispenses with the snowball-turned-slush. ] Winterfell, it's called. Was called. I --

[ she frowns. ] I owe you a grave apology, ser.

Were you.

[ it's said dryly, with the tiniest ounce of mischief. sansa carries herself like royalty, so it's really no surprise to him. like an old pureblooded family, straight-backed and proud, though sansa lacks the malice of a family like the blacks or the malfoys.

-- though the mischief quickly turns into puzzlement, his brow furrowing as he straightens up to face her. ]

For what?

I told a lie. [ and perhaps a pedal-not of panic creeps into her voice. she's a creature that's too often had to make amends for things both her fault and not at all. ] Not a mean lie -- not a hurtful lie. But I'm sorry, all the same.

Alayne Stone is...[ another girl. ] I'm not her.

[ ... aha. ]

It's in my experience that telling a lie is sometimes a fair bit better than telling the truth.

[ it's said gently enough -- james tells lies all the time. oh, remus is out today because he's a bit ill. no, he wasn't ill at the same time last month, that's ridiculous. sirius is just staying over for the weekend, mum, we're fine. his mum's not a total lunatic. ]

What's your name? If you don't mind me asking.

Sansa.

[ at first, it had been harder to say. it stuck in her throat -- and it needed practising. but all sorts of strange things had soothed it. for one, it's like music to hear her little brother say it again.

even tyrion lannister had (in his odd and contrarian fashion) made her feel prouder to tout it once again. ] Sansa Stark. Of Winterfell.

[ and she looks sheepish when she realizes she already named winterfell a moment earlier. stupid girl. ]

[ -- ah. stark. stark sounds familiar, and it takes james a moment to place it, but bran's last name is stark, isn't it? and suddenly it makes sense, why she's telling the truth. you can't quite keep up a facade when your younger brother is around to accidentally break it. but james keeps all of that to himself, watching her for a moment before huffing a laugh. ]

Well, Lady Sansa Stark of Winterfell, I think I'll take that apology after all. I'm quite offended.

[ and james removes his wand from his pocket, to flick a bit of snow at her with a murmured charm under his breath, just enough to land on her legs. ]

This whole time I've been using a name that's hardly as beautiful as your own, which makes me look foolish, and as established, I'm already a bit of an idiot without your assistance.

[ for a fraction of a moment, she takes his offense a little too...earnestly. her heartbeat thunders against her ribs, and she goes pale. true fear flutters its feathers for mere milliseconds in her blue eyes before -- and not a pulse too soon -- she realizes it's a jape. ]

Ser. James.

[ her laughter is nervous, but relieved. when has she ever felt so unburdened as in this one fraction of time? the young man proves himself kind in the face of her dishonesty, and she feels as though she may remain forever indebted to him because of it.

she dips her chin and smiles at the snow she now brushes off her skirt. ] You're nothing of the sort. An idiot couldn't conjure such amazing things.

Edited 2015-11-28 04:53 (UTC)

[ for half a second his grin flickers, because oh no, he's offended her, or frightened her, and james is far too used to lily who shoots down any one of his comments with a roll of her eyes and a hex, but then sansa seems to understand he's just kidding, and he immediately relaxes. ]

You're too kind, Sansa.

[ graciously, and james even adds the slightest of bows. ]

I'd love to tout my own genius, but is pretty basic, all things considered. I can do quite a bit more usually, but this isn't my wand -- I've borrowed it, for a bit.

[ aka he stole it but remus probably won't care ]

[ and he is too familiar, though she doesn't dare tell him so -- sansa all on its lonesome like that is an intimacy best left to her blood relatives, her dearest friends, and her maligned lord husband. but she allows it, because sansa isn't certain she could enforce any attempt to disallow the same. ]

Basic? [ she shakes her head. ] It's as through you're from some song or fabled story -- doing what you do.

[ aww, poor sansa. james is easily pushed around by ladies. it wouldn't take much to enforce such requests. ]

I imagine most non-magical folks feel the same.

[ it's held with no offense, or dismissive nature, and james shakes the snow out of his hair with his free hand, letting it fall into place whatever which way. ]

I'm a wizard -- I grew up with this stuff, but lots of people don't. It can be a bit of a shock when you first see it, I suppose.

[ james felt the same way about automatic doors, so. he gets it, m'lady. ]

Once -- [ she turns conspiratorial ] -- I saw a man at tourney set fire to his sword's blade. [ ... ] But I think it was a trick. He poured oil on the metal, mayhaps.

I can safely say that I've never set fire to a sword, but I've also not been allowed near a sword.

[ though, james' tone turns equally conspiratorial. ]

Did you see a match? You may have had a proper wizard in your midst.

ᴏᴏ3 : ᴏғғʟɪɴᴇ

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