Remus J Lupin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
theshabbiestofmen) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2015-12-09 10:07 pm
theshabbiestofmen) wrote in driftfleet2015-12-09 10:07 pm
Entry tags:
the one with werewolves
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.]
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.]
no subject
[God, she can't help but point that out, it's really adorable. She loves him a lot, and huffs a little into her mug to cover it up. Hands him one, too, exactly as he likes it.]
You know, it's funny the way you talk about it. You say "him" like he's something different from you. I suppose he must be in some ways but - oh, I don't know, it's just interesting.
I bet you could practice at it, you're very clever.
no subject
[He is excited, terribly so, so much so that even his slight embarrassment can't squash it. As she continues, though, he adds:]
Well, he is.
[He brushes two fingers against his chest, as if that's where Moony resides.]
I mean, there's input from him all the time, and vice-versa when I'm changed-- and honestly, it's easier to keep it all sorted if I don't think about him as a part of me. But now . . . well. Perhaps I can actually wander about instead of being locked up while I'm him.
[And if she notices the way his smile grows at the compliment, hopefully she'll keep it to herself.]
no subject
But.
[She raises her finger, then taps him in the chest, right where he had touched a moment ago.]
We're both very clever, that's a similarity. So maybe we can figure out a way to talk to the animal-you, to Moony, because I'm quite a bit animal too underneath it all.
no subject
[Babbling, babbling-- it's all true, of course, and part of the reason he babbles is simply because he's excited to share. But he babbles when he's nervous, when he's excited, when he's treading on new ground-- and he's so fond of Mal.]
In any case: new month. Or after, it hardly matters.
no subject
[She's furious! But not at him. And very sidetracked, but mostly because:]
He threatened me with a snow war and thought he would win.
no subject
no subject
[Very prim.]
What about that other one? The serious one.
god sorry for the tl;dr
[Which got old around November first year, frankly.
But ah, Sirius . . . that's significantly trickier. Whereas the name James conjures up a well of good old Boy's Club fondness-- good old James, brave and clever and dedicated and earnest-- Sirius . . .
The trouble is, they'd been growing apart. Part of it is the lack of school forcing them all together, and part of it is the war, and . . . and they know they have a traitor in their midst, they know someone is leaking information, and it's not that he suspects Sirius, but that doesn't mean it doesn't work in reverse-- and they haven't talked in ages, not properly, not beyond a few tired jokes or strained smiles, and it's stupid to expect more, stupid to whine because he isn't being paid proper attention--
And the other trouble, the trouble that Remus has been firmly ignoring, is: what do you do when you come to a strange place and your friend tells you oye, mate, apparently in other universes you and Sirius have it off? What are you even supposed to do with that information? Well, you do nothing; you shove it to the back of your mind and you firmly ignore it, because Sirius isn't even here, and even if he was--]
He's-- ah-- well. War made us all rather somber, I suppose, but . . . he's manic. He's wild, and very . . . if I'm the conscious of our group, he's our id, constantly thinking of wild ideas and things to do. It was him who came up with the idea of keeping me company while I changed-- Moony doesn't hurt animals, not the same way he wants to hurt humans. And he's . . . he's--
[How to describe Sirius? How to describe a barking laugh and reckless abandon and a teasing sense of humor? How to describe that touch of cruelty that isn't quite sadistic; the way he looks when he's determined to make someone happy, really happy, and won't stop til he figures out what it is; the way he never, ever studies but succeeds? How to describe fierce grins and rough hands and a general feeling of excitement, personified in one stupid boy? How to describe over a decade of friendship without sounding maudlin or soppy?]
Well. Perhaps he'll arrive and you'll find out yourself.