the one with werewolves

[theshabbiestofmen]

Who: Remus & James; Remus & the crew of the Paisley
Broadcast:
Action: on the Paisley
When: Last week of November!

closed to James;

[They've done this . . . god, he's lost count how many times. Since around fifth year, once a month every month, no matter how many protests Remus has voiced. The routine is always the same-- Remus on his own at first, stripping off his clothes and hanging around awkwardly with his boxers on, waiting for the others. The actual transformation has around a half-hour's time frame, always starting with an ache, always ending with screams.

Even after they graduated, they did it-- not in the Shrieking Shack, and not every month, not with everyone scattered to the wind on Order missions-- but often enough.

So now Remus waits in his room, clad only in shorts, fingers twisted in the blankets nervously. It won't be long now.]

on the Paisley; open to all crew

[The poor crew; what must they have heard? Well, all of it, frankly, which means: at 2300 and 0500 hours, there are screams coming from Remus' room. The door is locked, sealed physically and magically both, no matter what anyone tries to do. They're most definitely painful screams, and if you listen closely you can hear awful sounds-- bones snapping, sobs, Remus whimpering in pain. Fortunately, it only lasts five minutes each time-- and between, there's only silence. Perhaps an occasional whine or the click of dog nails on a hard floor-- but  beyond that, nothing.

After all is said and done, Remus seeks out each of the crew the next day. This is a conversation he'd prefer not to have with any of them-- but there's no way everyone on their ship hadn't heard him screaming. Might as well get this over with. He approaches them all one by one, his expression determined, his body held so tensely he's nearly shaking.]

I'd like to talk to you about last night. The noises you must have heard, the-- the screams and the like. This is a conversation I suppose I ought to have brought up before, but-- regardless. 

closed to Mal;

[The morning after, and Remus is still reeling over the revelations of the night before. The ability to be able to exert control over Moony-- even if it isn't absolute, even if it's only a fraction of a fraction of what James and the others can do-- is astonishing. The ability not to tear his friends to shreds once a month, to not put everyone's lives at risk, to say no and have it actually stick-- he still can't quite believe it. It seems a dream; it's only because James has assured him that he knows it wasn't.

An unconventional transformation. It makes sense, then, that the next day would be unconventional as well. Remus hesitates for quite a while before heading over to Mal's ship. He brings some coffee  as well, more to have an excuse than because he thinks Mal won't accept his company. James is splendid, of course, he couldn't ask for a better friend-- but it would be nice, for once, to be around someone who understands.] 

Comments

[deshabille]

[It's funny. Her life is so permeated with the smell of metal these days, metal and grease, iron and chrome, and the fuzzy smell of motherboards and grinding gears . . . natural smells are starting to come as a surprise. Instinctively, anyway - she can usually work them out with a bit of thinking, but it makes her start a little from her place in the engine room anyway.]

[It's strong, too, and her hackles raise at it immediately. Which is the big clue. Werewolves . . . and it is about that time, isn't it.]

[She slides out from the crevice she's wedged herself into, wipes her hands, and hauls her greasy vampire ass into the kitchen by the time he gets there. When she catches sight of him, she just regards him thoughtfully for a moment, then tugs him into a headlock and drags him over to the coffee pot.]

Well done you, nothing terrible seems to have happened.

[theshabbiestofmen]

[Oh my god, Mal, oh my god--]

Oy!

[She's so much stronger than he is; after a moment of struggle, he simply gives up. It's much easier than resisting. But honestly, he's more than a little put out-- he was set on sulking, on putting on a sad air and flopping over her and generally getting some sympathy from the only other supernatural being in the fleet. Except no, apparently not, apparently that isn't what's happening.]

Are you quite serious-- let go!

[deshabille]

I'm never not serious.

[This is a goddamn lie. And one really must hope that Sirius never actually arrives here because she will make so many bad jokes at his expense . . .]

[That's not the point at hand, though. The point at hand is that he will be permitted to flop and sulk if he so desires, but only after the coffee is made. She snatches it out of his hands and sets it brewing, one-handed, then relinquishes her hold with an air of disappointment.]

All right, then. Tell me your tale.

[theshabbiestofmen]

[He wrinkles his nose at her and quite pointedly tugs at his shirt. Honestly. But her tactic worked quite well, actually, because now he's too put out to sulk, and-- well, well done, he thinks. It's precisely the same thing James and Sirius always do, and it always works.

Anyway, this month is a bit different. Not quite a cause for celebrating, but for some excitement, at least.]

Have you found anything . . . different about yourself on this fleet? Moony-- that is to say, my wolf form-- that's, er, the nickname my friends gave him, it's a bit easier to differentiate--

[And thirteen year olds aren't good at nicknaming things, moving on--]

He's calmer. I was able to exert more control.

[huaaaaagh]

[It's a huge relief to see his crewmate alive and in one piece. He barely knows the guy, sure, but screams like that... you'd have to be heartless to ignore them. And he's heard similar screams before- sounds that convey pain, fear, a myriad of other inexplicable emotions- raw, loud, and horrifying. Hell, he's done it too. Regardless of the cause, it always ended badly.

That's why, when Remus approaches, Kirito is shaken and sleepless, and he's too tense to truly relax, even when confirming that the cause of the noise seems to be safe.]

Are- are you- okay?

[theshabbiestofmen]

Perfectly.

[Exhausted, of course, utterly worn out as he always is-- but honestly, this month's trauma was far less painful than usual. He might elaborate, but right now Remus is far too tense to assure someone else.]

But the source of them is what I need to discuss with you. Do you have werewolves in your world?

[He slips the word in so casually, as if it's nothing at all-- though of course it is, though of course he expects Kirito to draw back in horror.]

1/2

[huaaaaagh]

Not exactly. Just in movies and video games, I-

[huaaaaagh]

[And then it clicks]

Eh!?

[It's not horror, exactly, but he does take a step back, and he's definitely surprised.]

[theshabbiestofmen]

Precisely.

[He doesn't pursue; simply stands there, body held tensely.]

The noises you heard were my transformations.

[stefanged]

[Even though James had told him and Alex, Stefan still doesn't feel right. The entire night, he'd been trying to drone it out with his music, or boiling water while he brewed some tea, or - or stupid little things that didn't matter, because in the end, he's still a dumb vampire who wanted to help.

Except for Stefan, helping could potentially lead to dying. So when Remus approaches him in the kitchen, Stefan glances at him before slowly shaking his head.]

Thanks, but.... [He does have two hot mugs ready, though, so he offers one to Remus, if it would help.]

If you don't want to talk about it, it's okay. As long as you were safe, that's all I care about.

[theshabbiestofmen]

[James had told Remus, of course, as soon as he'd come on board. He doesn't mind that-- it's terrifying, knowing people know, but at least he doesn't have to go through confessing it with Stefan and Alex. But this reaction . . . Remus takes the mug with a blink, his stomach twisting unpleasantly.

This isn't how it's supposed to go. He'd expected-- what? Horror, of course. Disgust. Fear. Questions of safety. Reactions rational people always have, ought to have-- and yet so far he's been faced with nothing but concern for his own health. It's bizarre. Good, yes, it's not as though he wanted to be burned at the stake-- but bizarre nonetheless.]

I'm perfectly fine. Moreso than usual, actually. Do you . . . are you aware of what a werewolf is, exactly?

[Because perhaps James only gave them half the truth about werewolves. Perhaps he only said it hurts Remus and didn't add that Remus can and will kill you if given half a chance when transformed.]

[stefanged]

[Stefan nods, taking a sip of his tea (black with a splash of milk). It may taste a little off, because his stash is a self-replicating one, but it hits the spot well enough.]

Yeah. We had a few back home. Humans that turned into wolves, once every full moon. [He doesn't want to bring this up, considering how surprised Remus looks already, but it's been on his mind ever since he first heard that scream--]

I guess... even in space, you can't really escape that.

[theshabbiestofmen]

No, I suppose not.

[He sips at the tea gratefully. It takes a little off, but god, it doesn't matter; he hasn't had tea since he got here. It tastes wonderful, especially after the night he's had, and he closes his eyes in pleasure as the warm liquid hits him.]

But-- you must understand, I'm not harmless. And while I appreciate your concerns for my safety, it's yours I'm honestly more concerned about. I'm taking precautions, of course, and I think it's easier here, but-- this is about you, not me.

[closed to Remus]

[misterprongs]

[ james has been through this numerous times, but this time is a bit different. james is alone, and there's no padfoot or wormtail, and they're in a much smaller space. the odds of injury are pretty high, but james (as relaxed as ever) seems to bein good spirits.

in fact, when he taps on the door to remus' safehouse, his tone is light and cheery. ]

Stop worrying.

[ same phrasing, same lighthearted attitude. ]

M'coming in.

[theshabbiestofmen]

All right.

[He draws his knees up to his chest. Stupid, worrying about modesty even now, but he likes to try and keep what little dignity he has left. James doesn't matter, James has seen him naked more times than he really ought to, but Remus would rather the rest of the crew not join him in that knowledge.]

I'm going to seal the doors with magic as well-- just a barrier, but I'd rather the extra protection.

[misterprongs]

[ james slips in quietly, closing the door behind him -- and he rests his back against it, considering remus' proposal before shrugging. ]

Makes sense.

[ he's not going to argue, though his eyes scan the room quickly ]

You really think you could get through this door without it?

[theshabbiestofmen]

I don't know.

[And that's the truth. He sighs and stands, regarding the metal door with a frown.]

It's far sturdier than the shack, but we don't have Padfoot, and there's far less room for error.

[If he'd gone off on his own at home, there was miles and miles of Forest for the other to chase after him before he could get near anyone. Here, though . . . here everyone's five feet away.]

I'd rather be too cautious than too careless.

[open to paisley via broadcast!!]

[misterprongs]

[ james most definitely made remus sound harmless BECAUSE HE IS!!! but shortly after that message, a half-asleep james turns up with a yawn. ]

M'fine, thanks for asking.

[ jackasses ]

Moony's harmless, don't let him be dramatic.

[ he, of course, is not harmless, but he's perfectly fine so long as he's contained. which he has been. so neener neener pumpkin eater. ]

[complicatedliar]

[This is his convinced face. Not that he cares either way, since he knows he could escape a werewolf if he needed to; he's got all of his magics. But he'll always take the option of poking at someone.]

Pull the other one, it has bells on.

[misterprongs]

What, did someone not get their beauty sleep last night?

[ mildly enough. ]

Shame.

[complicatedliar]

When one looks this good naturally, beauty sleep is unnecessary.

It's an admirable lie, really. But you might want to aim a little lower if you wish it to be convincing. Not harmless, but rather, in hand. Under control. Not going to break free and feast on all the soft, little, pink humans while they're sleeping peacefully in their beds.

[complicatedliar]

[Loki doesn't particularly like listening to other people scream, at least not like that. There are some... unpleasant memories attached to it. He didn't sleep that night, thanks new shipmate. But he also requires very little sleep, so he isn't any crankier than normal.

But having had some time to think about the sounds and do a bit of deduction, he's got his own ideas about what might have happened.]

Not terribly in control of yourself, hm?

[theshabbiestofmen]

One night out of thirty, no.

[He exhales. This, this is more what he expected. Not open arms, but wariness. It makes far more sense, and in some ways, Remus appreciates it. At least someone is following the script.]

Do you know what a werewolf is?

[complicatedliar]

[Loki settles back on his his habitual insolent sprawl. After a long moment of staring at Remus, he finally nudges one of the other chairs toward him with the toe of one boot.]

I'm familiar, yes.

[Tempting to throw back a, "Do you know what frost giants are?" But that's really no one's business. He isn't going to be any more unhinged than normal because of it.]

[theshabbiestofmen]

[Well, then. He takes the slight invitation and sits. His hands tangle in his lap, fingers winding around each other. If Loki looks closely, he'll see some new scars on the backs of his hands, leading up into his sleeves. Moony was better this month, but he was hardly perfect.]

Well, then. That's what I am. And I would ask that you keep the fact of my lycanthropy to yourself for the time being. While it's impossible to keep it a secret on this ship, I hardly see why the entire fleet has to know.