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Who: Remus Lupin
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When: January 14th, early evening

[Remus sits on the floor in James' room, back against the bed, holding the communicator in one hand. The other is tangled in his hair; he pushes his hand through the tangled curls again and again throughout this little speech. Still, he smiles pleasantly enough. This first part is easy, after all.]

Right, hello. My name is Remus Lupin, I've been here a few months, and I've noticed a bit of a trend among those taken. There's quite a few of us with-- well, abilities, for lack of a better word. Abilities that most human beings don't have. They vary, of course, but-- it's an odd consistency. I've met more people with magic than I usually do in a year. Something to think on, perhaps.

In any case: even if it's a meaningless connection-- something that has no significance beyond sheer entertainment value-- I'd be interested to hear what everyone can do. Whether you call it magic or alchemy or even if it's-- god, I don't know, if you have a talent for juggling, I'd be interested. I want to know more about what kind of company I keep.

[His smile fades, now, and he hesitates visibly.]

For example, I, ah. I'm a wizard. Wand and all. I can do magic, which means anything from transfiguration to charms to knowing what plants to use to brew a good cold remedy. It's hardly infallible, but it's certainly useful. And, ah . . .

I'm a werewolf as well. The sort that only changes once a month. It's lasted here, but I seem to have control over it. I take quite a few precautions, so-- so it won't be a problem. I'm not the only werewolf here, nor the only other supernatural creature, but--

[He shrugs. His face is pale, now, the little scars standing out sharply against his skin-- but he forces himself to keep talking.]

I'm used to keeping it a secret at home. And I'm sure others are as well. So I suppose this is a . . . a way to let everyone know. Even if they don't want to tell anyone else, they know they're not alone.

[His mouth twists in a wry smirk.]

That, and I'm tired of keeping it a secret.

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That's one of our first lessons, actually--

[But a memorable one. Remus takes his wand and glances around. His shoes are by his bed, neatly set; with a little smile he aims his wand towards them. Swish and flick, and he doesn't even need to say the charm aloud-- and up they rise, steady and sure, hovering a good four feet above the ground.]

Seriously?

[ he's not entirely sure he believes him, but then there go the shoes and he is staring, mouth agape, unable to say anything at first. ]

That is... that is awesome. Is that real? [ he might even reach his hand out to wave underneath the shoes. ]

[He laughs-- not at Isaac, simply pleased to have such a reaction.]

Very much real.

[The shoes keep on floating, no matter what Isaac does-- but soon Remus lets them down again, because he wants to do more.]

Ah, well-- I showed this off to someone else-- this is a spell to keep away creatures we call Dementors. They're . . . evil, frankly, and I don't use that term lightly. They feed on joy, on happiness, on anything positive-- and if they can corner you, they'll try and feed on your soul as well.

[He says it quickly, skimming over them-- he wants the spell, the happiness produced, not to linger on Dementors. Remus closes his eyes for a moment, thinking up a happy memory-- easy, now, with Isaac so awed, with the positive response he's getting from the Fleet-- and waves his wand.]

Expecto Patronum!

[A flash of silver light fills the room-- and a wolf leaps out of Remus' wand, settling on the floor. It's large, large enough to be intimidating-- but it stares calmly up at Isaac, panting silently. It's translucent, silvery in form-- like moonlight, if moonlight had decided to take a shape. It's also attuned to Remus-- their breathing is the same, chests rising and falling in tandem, shifting as Remus does.]

I suppose you could call this the shape my soul manifests as. Everyone's is different-- I've seen otters, bears, does, every animal you can think of.

Seriously, they're called Dementors? What kind of name is that?

[ but they sound pretty sinister, and Isaac has seen his fair of sinister big bads in his time. they're never quite magic, though, but always some weird level of supernatural.

all the same, he waits, eyes wide and curious. he isn't even ashamed of his own wonder. ]

Your soul is very ironic, then. [ he reaches out to the patronus but doesn't touch it, bending to look at it. with his own senses so alert, he is keenly aware of how tied they are together and straightens. ]

That's -- that's pretty cool. [ he's a little awed, because any magic, anything strange like that in his world is only used for terrible, awful things, and this spell actually seems hopeful, in a way. ]

You have got to tell me more about where you're from.

What do you want to know? I'll tell you anything you want, honestly-- our schools or our government or anything.

[He flicks his wand; the wolf disappears in a puff of silver mist.]

Do you have sports?

[ who cares about things like government and schools. Isaac is far more curious about the more inane things in a young wizard's life.

he gives a start when the wolf disappears, however and leans back against the wall. ]

All I can do is growl, grow some hair and punch a hole in the wall, so.

[He huffs a laugh.]

We do-- although I'm not a sports type, myself, that's the others. But yes, we have Quidditch-- played entirely in the air on broomsticks. Very fast, very dangerous. James has broken his arm more times than I care to remember, but it's not quite as bad for us, given we've magical healing-- still, the pain is there, so they can keep it, frankly.

A sport played on broomsticks? Yeah that doesn't seem safe at all.

[ but he's competitive and already he's itching to hear more about it. maybe even play it, but he's pretty sure he can't fly on a broom. ] I play lacrosse, can't be more painful than that. I heal fast, too, so. [ clearly he should be a Quidditch player. ]

Quid Itch? That's a terrible name, though.

Quidditch. Don't make it into two words, just slur it. What's lacrosse like?

[A beat, and then, wryly:]

If you ever meet James, talk to him about it. He'll fit you up for a position and explain all the rules and shanghai you into the team before you've had a chance to think about it.

Like hockey but on a field. Sort of.

[ he just assumes everyone knows sports, okay, he doesn't even consider the fact that Remus' world might only have Quidditch or whatever it is. ]

I bet I will. He seems pretty cool. It'd be nice to play a sport somehow here. It gets boring on these ships. I don't have magic though, and I don't think werewolves are meant to fly.

We most certainly are not. Anyone that isn't a bloody bird isn't meant to fly, but here we are.

[He really hates flying-- but okay, this is interesting. He knows some muggle things thanks to his mother, but most of them are foreign. Hockey, he has no idea what that is.]

Be a bit more specific, yeah? I mean, you don't have to go into rules or anything, but-- all right, a field, do you whack people or defend the goal or what?

[That's pretty much what all sports are made up of, right? Hitting people and trying to throw balls at goals.]

Yeah, you'd think being flown around would be fun but it's pretty awful.

[ Bird Dave tried to fly him down a hill and it was something that Isaac did not wholly enjoy. he didn't hate it either, but. beside the point. ]

Oh. Well you chase a ball around the field with these sticks that have nets on them. You try to get the ball in the goal, but you can tackle. [ he shrugs. ] But yeah there's a goalie and you can whack people but you're not supposed to, against the rules. But I've done it before. Sometimes you have to. How do you not know hockey?

The same way you don't know about Quidditch. Besides, I'm only half nonmagical, and my mother had no real interest in sports, frankly.

Wait, so you're only half magical? What kind of magic can someone fully magical do? I guess being a werewolf could have its disadvantages.

[ sorry, remus, the wizarding world is something foreign to him, okay. be patient with the dumb wolf. ] I only really played lacrosse, though, because my dad wanted me to do swimming.

Ah, no, there's no difference in magical ability. Some of our greatest witches and wizards have come from fully nonmagical families. The only difference is cultural exposure, honestly.

Why swimming?

Huh. That's pretty weird.

[ and it sounds totally fake, but this is Remus and he's pretty sure the guy isn't lying. he can tell there is something different about him, but that could well be the fact that it's growing closer to the full moon and Remus is, after all, a werewolf. ]

He coached the team but I don't really like swimming that much. [ he shrugs, there are clearly Other Reasons, but Isaac is nonchalant about it all. ] Besides, I like contact sports. Keeps me focused.

[YOU sound totally fake, Isaac, don't judge his world's shitty rules.]

You'll have to show me sometime. I can float, but that's about the extent of my swimming ability. When we land on a far warmer planet, of course.

[ he comes from a world where there are magical tree stumps and ghost ninjas and werewolves. he can't judge, not really. ]

Yeah, probably not on Salty Ice Planet out there. I can teach you, though, it's pretty easy, especially if you know how to float. That's the hardest part. [ he shrugs easily. ] Being magic doesn't help you learn that stuff? I mean if you have magic do you even need to know how to swim?

Yes and no. Yes, mostly, you do, because while I do have magic, it's an ability, not an endless resource. If I were in the middle of the ocean, I could transform something, if there were things around me to transform, if I had my wand, if I wasn't too exhausted. And it doesn't, unfortunately, help you learn stuff-- honestly, it's best to just think of it as a talent. Much like having good reflexes means you're naturally inclined to sports, but doesn't help you in educational pursuits.

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