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

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

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?

Threaded | Flat

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.)

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."

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.

[ 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. ]

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.”

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.

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.

Threaded | Flat

Harry Potter → Lily's Room

wandering.

no subject

media library.

no subject

no subject

i'm late and i don't care