and let me tell you that i'm dreaming (OPEN)

[lightmagic]

CHARACTERS: Lily Potter AND YOU!!!
LOCATION: A mystery. (Miscellaneous!! Halls, elevators, media library, kitchen, take your pick.)
WARNINGS: TBA??
SUMMARY: A June catch-all post.
NOTES: Please feel free to start threads with whatever! I wish to rp all of the things and Lily is criminally approachable, so if you want to have someone bump into her or leave an opening for her to say hi, I'm down for whatever.


Lily doesn't leave her room often. It's ostensibly to rest and make sense of things, but she simply doesn't think to go anywhere. She lays in bed and tries to sleep, thinks better of it, and spends hour upon hour going through network archives instead. Being busy keeps her mind from drifting back home to where everything went wrong.

'Not often' is not 'never,' all the same - she has to leave to get things to eat and drink, do washing up, and eventually media library holds enough of a pull that she heads out to investigate it and returns to her room with too many things loaded into a data pad to be able to go over in days, though she's determined enough to try.

(One day she considers trying to relax by swimming but rethinks it at the last moment, does an about-face near the rec area and heading back toward her room.)

She doesn't linger long enough in the kitchens to make entire meals but she does snack while she makes up her tea before disappearing once more into the halls again.

She wanders them enough to get a general idea of the layout enough, and not just on her own floor. She doesn't stray far despite the elevators making things easier, but she likes to have a mental map at least. She's approachable enough even in her upset, quiet and maybe a little morose but who isn't, some days?

Comments

Harry Potter → Lily's Room

[lightmagic]

After Remus and Sirius leave her she makes an effort to rest, but is too keyed-up to manage it, too sharp around the edges to comply. She wastes time, charming the flower crown she'd received before so that it won't wilt - the magic weaves between the petals as she expects it to. They look the same, but something about the charm doesn't sit right with her - it feels brittle, delicate.

She sets the damned thing aside so she doesn't have to think about it anymore. She'll look into it later, when working through it won't give her a headache. For now, she's too occupied with thoughts of Harry and the fact that Ilde assured her that he'd be by to see her.

(She wonders what sort of man he's grown into, and it feels like her heart is breaking all over again.)

[thebreakingwave]

Harry had thought about trying to find something to bring for Lily to brighten up her new room, but he didn't have anything suitable. He wishes that he'd had the chance to see her room before she'd gone home before, to know what she'd like, but that hadn't been possible.

Instead, he stands just outside her door and works up the nerve to call on her. After reminding himself that no matter how poorly this goes, they'd be hard pressed to top the last disastrous meeting, Harry straightens his shoulders, adjusts his clothes to look his best, and then knocks.

[lightmagic]

Lily doesn't know what to expect when she opens the door.

She's had time to process he's grown thanks to Severus and Ilde, and she's kept that firmly in mind this whole while. At the same time it's one thing to know something but another entirely to see your adult son before your eyes when what feels like hours ago he was only a year old.

When the door slides open there's a moment of dissonance. She's neat and tidy and she tied her hair back to keep it out of her face but her eyes are still a little red-rimmed. The effect is such that she's holding herself together, but precariously.

She doesn't just stare at him, though. He looks so much like James, but so different at the same time (she'll be thankful for this, later) and she reaches out unthinking to touch the side of his face, to make sure that he really is there.

"When they told me you'd grown, I scarcely believed them."

She doesn't quite know what else to say. To her credit, she hasn't started crying again yet.

[thebreakingwave]

Harry is nineteen now, halfway to twenty, and to those that know (or knew) James he looks like his father, he's grown used to looking in the mirror and seeing his own face staring back. For good or ill, he feels as if he's lost the resemblance more than he actually has.

"If it helps, I didn't get that much taller," he admits with a graceless little shrug. He's slight, like a seeker should be, but he hasn't flown in over a year and much of that time has been spent hauling boxes and various other forms of physical labour in the shuttle bay. Regular food as helped him to fill out as well.

"May I come in?"

wandering.

[forgodssake]

Level fourteen is quiet, on account of it being mostly unoccupied. The series of doors that line it are tightly shut, unlocked, save for one, and behind it--

--Charles is meditating.

He presses on the boundaries of his own ability, feeling as far as he can reach before swamping himself in silence again. As important as occasional bouts of isolation are, so too is practice. So too is knowing the ins and outs of what he can do, both as he was born as well as the limitations the Tranquility has erected.

Lily, meanwhile, is mapping the terrain nearby. She feels, for a moment, as if she is being followed, before the feeling passes with a certain suddenness, as if realising its transgression.

Well, damn.

The sound of a door sliding open somewhere close heralds quiet foot steps deliberately approaching, and he catches her on her way to the elevator doors that would whisk her away.

"Hello-- sorry," are two warring impulses of politeness that battle for precedence, tumbling out together. His smile is crooked, a little, his clothing neat if not formal -- the hem of his shirt is allowed outside his trousers, unbuttoned at the collar, marginally rumpled all over without being unkempt. "I hope I didn't startle you."

[lightmagic]

Level fourteen is the furthest she's gone out thus far, but her explorations have been so uneventful so far that she's been pressing onward. It helps that she can keep her thoughts away from home while she's busy, and walking down hallways counts well enough, apparently. It's busywork, moderately occupying, and if her mind does wander she tries to focus on the task at hand instead. It works.

When that moment comes, Lily stills.

It isn't the stillness of a frightened animal - there's a caution in her, a harsh residue of war, but she isn't scared. Though the feeling leaves just as quickly she feels... rattled, enough that she decides heading back is perhaps for the best.

Maybe she needs to rest.

She hears the door open but she doesn't change her speed - even, straight-backed, unbending. When Charles speaks however she stops, turning to look at him. Then she cocks her head to the side, arms crossing over her chest.

"So that was you?" She's not frowning, and she doesn't have a wand out, and if Charles was aware of her being a witch that would probably be a good sign. "It did, a little, but I'm fine."

[forgodssake]

"Not a very good first impression." Fine, that is. Tolerant. "If I could start again--"

Charles steps nearer, in that light footed way of someone who doesn't want to impose more than he already has, but determined to offer his hand anyway like a normal person. Flesh and bone, rather than creepy haunting impressions of himself -- lines from his iron still creasing a fold up his sleeve, a smudge of pen ink unwashed from the edge of his little finger, nails clipped neat.

His focus on her is curious, interested in the way he always is, and still a little apologetic. He can see that she is new, regardless that he also knows she is a witch.

"Xavier," he says. "Charles Xavier."

[lightmagic]

"I've had far worse," Lily says, "first impressions, I mean."

There's a brief brittleness to her then, but only for a split second - she uncrosses her arms and smiles, just a little, taking the offered hand to shake it. Her grip is firm and she's pleasant enough - when she settles back again it's with only one arm crossed, more casual than before.

"I'm Lily. Lily Potter." She gets it out without incident, which feels like progress.

[trouvaille]

Swimming is Ilde's preferred method of relaxation, and besides which, she's still investigating if there's anything else she can do in the water - which is one of the reasons she branches out from only using the pool on her own floor. She doesn't particularly want to be interrogated (again) about what she's doing, or be too predictable - which, logically, would make using one of the most recently populated floors counterintuitive. Except that that only follows if she wants to have an established habit of using other pools but only in underpopulated areas, and that sounds shady, actually.

So all she was doing was swimming. It's plenty; she's always loved the water. It doesn't have to be anything else to be worthwhile. She isn't really expecting to see Lily, or emerge just in time to catch that sudden swerve, either, and she regrets it almost as soon as she speaks--

"Lily?"

--because it's not really her business what the other woman is or is not doing, frankly. Lily has her number and knows she can contact her if she needs anything; she hasn't. Ilde wouldn't blame her for not particularly wanting to cultivate a friendship straight out of the gate with somebody who'd been corralled into handholding her through the still-trembling aftershocks of initial arrival.

She's already said it, though, so-- it's not as if she can pretend she was talking to the other Lily not present in the hallway.

[lightmagic]

—now she feels rude. She hadn't noticed Ilde there before she spoke and now she wonders if it looks like she was trying to avoid her. She isn't; she just thought better of her idea at the last minute, still feeling too vulnerable to spend that much time out and about.

It'll be nice to see Ilde though, and she turns, smiling. "Ilde, hi." She looks markedly better than when Ilde saw her last, which is a plus, and when she moves back over and stills nearby it's easy, like she's gotten more used to the idea of the ship as a whole.

"I'm sorry, I didn't notice you at first. If I had, I'd have stopped to chat." And she would have - even though she's largely in a quest for solitude recently she'd still a picture of earnest friendliness (mostly).

[trouvaille]

"I was just coming out," she says, with an absent gesture - her hair is damp, curling slightly, and she's carrying a small bag, it's probably not too difficult to figure out where she's been and why. "I think you turned around before you'd have seen me. Were you--"

...hm.

"--exploring?"

Because calling her out on how abrupt that had looked would probably be rude. Just because she doesn't often bother to be at all tactful doesn't mean she's incapable of making the effort.

[lightmagic]

"I was," Lily admits, after a moment. "I'd thought to look around some more and maybe have a swim actually," she stands at ease as she speaks, smiling a little. "In the end, I decided it'd be better if I waited until I have a little more energy."

And it's true - while she'd had every intention of heading in for a swim, the thought had been replaced with a need to decompress and relax alone. This is fine, though.

media library.

[exponentiate]

[ in dauntless there was never much reason to study. research was for the erudite. it was a faction of doing without thinking despite the dangers inherent in such. after the attack on abnegation, tobias understands why. thinking is a detriment in mindless drones.

he has found a computer ( or the closest to one, he can't help but think of the computer he'd had as cardboard boxes with buttons compared to what he has found on the ship ) in a slightly more private corner of the library. old habits die hard. and he has been there an hour at least. he only realized when he picked up his coffee cup and found it too light.

( zeke would sling his arm around tobias' shoulders, ask him when he turned into such a nose. )

coming back from the kitchens, he nurses a steaming tall mug. white, it stands out against his all-black clothing. tobias stops before he and lily crash. ]

Careful.

[ abnegation would have him say sorry and the word lingers on his tongue. but he chose dauntless and even on this ship he remains dauntless. ]

[lightmagic]

[ Lily had been so engrossed in the data pad in her hands that she hadn't even noticed him until it was almost too late. She stops walking when he talks though, eyes wide. She's startled but now fully present, as compared to having her face shoved into an (electronic) book.

In contrast, she seems perfectly apologetic. ]

I'm sorry, I should have been paying attention.

[ She's preoccupied but friendly, lowering the data pad to her side. ]

[exponentiate]

It's fine. [ he doesn't smile, but he gives her a little nod to show nothing happened. ] If you'll excuse me, I'll feel better when I put this somewhere solid.

[ only the choice of words hint that it's a joke. ]

[lightmagic]

[ Well, at least he said it's fine. She's a little unused to his demeanor but she can adapt, moving aside so he can continue on to setting his mug down. ]

Of course. [ But her smile, a little lopsided - albeit genuine - betrays that she realizes the joke. ]

[almanac]

Randolph finds himself thinking of Lily more often than he expected—in truth he had not expected to think of her at all, upon their first meeting. But he still feels that hollow ache that Pepe’s leaving had left in him, and in Lily he sees—well, someone who reminds him quite strongly of himself, at least in this. And he is quite fond of himself. So he finds himself one day seeking out her room, for no real reason other than to see how she fairs. He led her to it and he feels it not too great an imposition now to knock on the door.

He should be ashamed of the banality, really. He has never been much of a caregiver.

He knocks and calls out, “Lily, my dear, it’s me. I won’t barge in your room like some young scalawag, but I wanted to see how you were.”

[lightmagic]

When Randolph comes to call, Lily is working on some charms to liven up her room. She can't stand it as is, and having some color will help. Some liveliness, if nothing else. She's gotten some progress done and feels comfortable setting the work aside to chat.

"Just a moment," she says, tucking her wand away, pushing her hair behind her ear, and coming to the door. She smiles as it slides open, stepping aside to allow him in. "It's good to see you, Randolph."

There's only one bed in her room now, as the other is now a set of shelves. They're short and squat, and there isn't much in them as yet. Atop them though sits a large fishbowl with two small fish inside, circling and swimming about.

Where the hell did she get a fishbowl, much less fish?

(Somewhere, an unused kitchen is missing a mixing bowl and the crown that Hyperion had given her is missing two petals from a single flower.)

[almanac]

Randolph waits for Lily to open the door, then smiles at her. “My dear, you look quite improved from the last time I saw you.” He steps inside, unable to help the slightly illicit thrill that comes with being in a woman’s room. Not that the feeling ever stopped him from ferreting out Dolores’ dream journal, no matter how secluded a place she had hidden it. “Not, of course, that you were not radiant, then, but you seem … somewhat more settled.”

He looks around the room and his eyes first alight on her shelves, which do not seem to be standard issue, and the fish swimming in a bowl above them. He feels that slightly vexed feeling that comes with encountering magic—at least he knows that the magicians he called charlatans in the past likely truly were charlatans, without an ounce of real magic to their names.. “You seem to have made some much needed improvements to your room. The fish are an especially nice touch.” He turns to her. “Magic, I presume?”

[darkart]

The gardens are vast, though even dull human eyes can see the edges where - unsettling - sky becomes bulkhead. There is overgrowth and intermittent cultivation attempts, there are inhabited dwellings, and the scattered artifacts of those no longer aboard. Plenty of winding paths to follow, patches of grass and edges of streams to sit at while trying to forget.

It's not a living space but it's not been left unattended for long enough to have been grafted into vines-- it's just odd. A few bedsheets hung on string from tree branches deep enough into the lower levels to be out of the way, but not so deep as to completely block out light. The light is blocked out inside; beneath the flimsy structure is dark and slightly cooler than outside. All along the top of it is pitch-black and decorated with points of light - stars. Not the breathtaking and dizzying nebulae seen from the Tranquility's shuttle bay but normal, as-seen-from-Earth stars. These in particular, if one looks close enough, showcase the Hydra, Corona Borealis, and a number of other constellations from the 1976 Hogwarts astronomy exams.

Weather, too. Clouds drift through the artificial night sky on occasion.

Someone's left blankets inside, one spread out and slightly kicked around from various visitors, another folded up and wedged in a corner over a knot of tree roots like it was being used as a seat. A few coffee cups are shoved into the ground. People have come and gone, but for now, it's unattended.

[lightmagic]

Lily likes the gardens.

She finds them soothing, as long as she can ignore the edges. She manages this with varying degrees of success - some days she spends hours in the gardens and other days less than half of one. It all depends, and the solitude isn't overwhelming.

She often comes out when she can't stand the dreams, wandering and taking everything in, looking over the types of plants like she's making a mental catalogue. Maybe she is. When she comes across the installment of sheets it's just a normal day though, taking the time to pretend like she can actually go outside.

She recognizes the night sky so soon as she sees it - she simply stands a moment, identifying familiar constellations before sinking to the spread-out blanket. It's calming, and warming, and she thinks fondly of nights spent staring up at the stars. She recognizes the magic in it especially - when she leaves there's little trace behind, but one of the coffee cups is gone and a small shimmering Bunting nests in the corner with the blanket and tree roots.

(It'll peep at anyone that comes to rest here, call sounding natural enough with an undertone like fingers on crystal.)

[darkart]

It's the second time the little bird has made an appearance on the ship. The first was during his own first jump; transfiguring one of Harry's attempts into something shining and catching the light.

Severus stares at it.

He started this out of... not really boredom but a desire to do something with his magic that wasn't fraught with something or another. His intensity and drive to accomplish is familiar and an integral part of him but sometimes, even the unpleasant taskmaster that he is wants for something else. Severus loves magic - he wants to breathe it always, to be unhindered by the limitations of this place. Or the limitations of home. Now thanks to this he's ended up in a promise to Nuala about crafting her a living space away from the other elves - he has no bloody idea how to build a tent and is a little tired by the idea; it's been a while since he's returned to his little experiment.

When he leaves, the bird is different. It sits higher in the tent, tiny feet clutched on a slim branch peeking inside under the covering. It's still shimmering and crystal-like but darker, and filled with its own stars.

There's a small shelf, too. The remaining cups left set on it.

i'm late and i don't care

[pushfall]

Claire isn't necessarily in the same boat, but if it had to come down to a metaphor, she might claim that she's orbiting the same general expanse of water. She has gotten better about not being such a hermit, but it's been a slow process as she's let herself acclimate. Jumping head first into things has always been part of her protocol but jumping head first into a group of people in the interest of not making them sick the second she hits the ground is something altogether different. So she spends a lot of time in the kitchens, either taking stock of what's available and trying to figure out what she can make or just reading through the Network and chatting with anyone who might make themselves available.

It's on one of these occasions, when Claire is tucked into the corner and playing one of the games on her comm while she waits for something interesting to happen, that she looks up to a flash of red hair. She doesn't say anything for a while, neither of them do, but Claire finds herself watching the other girl out of the corner of her eye, as she busies herself making tea and doing whatever it is that people do on the edge of your peripheral. Eventually, as Lily turns to leave, she'll be able to catch a pair of green eyes peering at her curiously from across the room, and when she's caught, Claire will feel the slightest sting of color high up on her cheeks and she'll smile that guilty and caught smile, lips pressed together.

"Hi," she says, putting her comm down.

mashes face on you aggressively

[lightmagic]

It's all really routine for Lily, go to the kitchens, make tea, grab a snack and pocket it, then head back to her room - until she notices she's being watched. She doesn't mind it really, and it feels different from the way that she feels like everyone from home looks at her, knowing she's meant to be dead.

Open curiosity is nice, in contrast.

It's fine, like this - equal parts distracting and out of the ordinary, and when Lily comes to a stop near where Claire is sitting she's smiling back like it's nothing at all or they've simply met for tea on a nice afternoon. She's clutching a mug between both hands, warm but not too hot, the steam curling tendrils at the tips of her hair.

"Hello," she replies, "I'm Lily." May as well get the introductions out of the way, right?

oh mai. also sorry if i'm slow i suck at tagging anymore ffft

[pushfall]

"Claire," she replies, automatic but not forced, her smile genuine and more than a little self-aware. Despite managing to come out of whatever shell she had constructed around herself both over the past few years and once she found herself on board the ship, Claire still manages to put a sizable difference between herself and everyone else, even if she has a handle on not acting like a total axe murderer, or something, and still has the capacity for being friendly.

She lets her comm device fall shallow into the crack between the arm of the chair and the cushion. It's not exactly plush but it's comfortable enough, and Claire sits up in it, dropping the soles of her boots to the floor with a thunk. Resolutely not wincing, she thinks to hold out her hand to offer it up for a shake and realizes halfway there that Lily is actually holding something and maneuvering might be awkward. There's nothing to do for the intended motion, but Claire does brush the front of her jumpsuit off as if she's known all along there was invisible lint there.

"Sorry," she says, though she doesn't know who she's apologizing to or what she's actually apologizing for. "I don't think I've seen you around very much. Are you new?"

Or maybe it's just because not everyone comes creeping into other floors' kitchens like a crazy person, Claire, but sometimes it pays to be somewhere you aren't expected to be.