sᴇᴠᴇʀᴜs. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
darkart) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ataraxionlogs2014-08-12 08:01 pm
darkart) wrote in ataraxionlogs2014-08-12 08:01 pm
Entry tags:
sooner or later we're gonna die ( open )
CHARACTERS: rainbow brite and the color kids
LOCATION: various
WARNINGS: sometimes people are jerks (tba)
SUMMARY: catch-all for stuff this month! shoot me a pm if you'd like to do something. or slam into this post with whatever.
NOTES: parts of this header might be a lie
There are times when Severus feels similar to when he did before the war hit full speed; in the years that lingered as twilight before the worst night fell on all of them. His talents were nurtured and he was rewarded not for unraveling the dreary methods to achieving good marks, but for challenging himself and rising above peers thought to be 'brilliant'. Scholastic drudgery became tasteless. He remembers Professor Slughorn pulling him aside one day in seventh year, wringing his clammy, clean hands, telling him that he was going to give him zero credit on an essay for doing parts on potions he shouldn't even know about the existence of.
(I can't have anyone think I'm exposing you to that sort of thing.)
It's not unlike those days. Here, in space. With no head of house to stare at him nervously, but also no dark wizard to touch his shoulders and whisper validation (pulling him in like gravity). It's just Severus, working on puzzling out how to get what he wants from a new set of circumstances and series of limitations. The Tranquility is the trade-off to escape politics, and what a bloody abysmal deal on both sides that is.
He swears a lot in private. At the ship, at the way magic slips from his fingers when it shouldn't. He spends his free hours in the dark of his quarters, deep inside the walls of Occlumency, finding small respite in the silence of his own mind. But mostly he works: Xenogen of course, still occasionally drifting through Medical - though they need fewer extra people now, thankfully, it means he's less likely to run into Lily - and tending to the portion of the gardens now set aside for proper herbology.
He moves to level 010. He sort of hates it. What else is new.
LOCATION: various
WARNINGS: sometimes people are jerks (tba)
SUMMARY: catch-all for stuff this month! shoot me a pm if you'd like to do something. or slam into this post with whatever.
NOTES: parts of this header might be a lie
There are times when Severus feels similar to when he did before the war hit full speed; in the years that lingered as twilight before the worst night fell on all of them. His talents were nurtured and he was rewarded not for unraveling the dreary methods to achieving good marks, but for challenging himself and rising above peers thought to be 'brilliant'. Scholastic drudgery became tasteless. He remembers Professor Slughorn pulling him aside one day in seventh year, wringing his clammy, clean hands, telling him that he was going to give him zero credit on an essay for doing parts on potions he shouldn't even know about the existence of.
(I can't have anyone think I'm exposing you to that sort of thing.)
It's not unlike those days. Here, in space. With no head of house to stare at him nervously, but also no dark wizard to touch his shoulders and whisper validation (pulling him in like gravity). It's just Severus, working on puzzling out how to get what he wants from a new set of circumstances and series of limitations. The Tranquility is the trade-off to escape politics, and what a bloody abysmal deal on both sides that is.
He swears a lot in private. At the ship, at the way magic slips from his fingers when it shouldn't. He spends his free hours in the dark of his quarters, deep inside the walls of Occlumency, finding small respite in the silence of his own mind. But mostly he works: Xenogen of course, still occasionally drifting through Medical - though they need fewer extra people now, thankfully, it means he's less likely to run into Lily - and tending to the portion of the gardens now set aside for proper herbology.
He moves to level 010. He sort of hates it. What else is new.
no subject
Back, back, back, and he feels the slight hitch in magic that says they're off the layline of these wards. He turns away from Hyperion to look at them, one hand raising to trigger the slight glow of runes spread out across the floor. They only alight for a moment before flickering away, and he feels the magic slip into a dormant state, in flux. He mutters something that sounds like "Mordred's ninth circle of fucking hell" under his breath.
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"What? I didn't do anything. I was just standing there like you said!"
Don't tase me bro.
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"What did you say your blood can do?"
no subject
Which isn't really answering the question, but he didn't quite specify.
no subject
no subject
Then Snape continues, and he looks around him, like he's wondering if anything spilled while he was walking around. He was just having a sandwich, gosh.
"Sorry?"
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"A conductor," he echoes, his tone suspended somewhere between an incredulous echo and academic curiosity. His magic doesn't require using anything besides himself - having a wand helps, and due to the frustrating way he was conditioned in school, he ends up having to use it more than he'd like, but all witches and wizards start off blowing shit up on their own accidentally as children. Most things that use blood are illegal; he thinks of the small experiment he ran for medical, trying to discern if a particular manticore blood sample was 'real' or not.
"What do you use it for?"
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"I dunno - mostly I just sell that shit. For cash or favors or - I don't know."
You're asking difficult questions, man.
"Sometimes I need it for my spells, 'cause - 'cause I'm not that great at magic. I mean, not yet."
It just made things easier, to slap a little blood on a spell to guarantee it'd work, however small the results were.
no subject