Remus J. Lupin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
natureinblood) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
capeandcowllogs2009-12-22 07:29 am
natureinblood) wrote in capeandcowllogs2009-12-22 07:29 am
(no subject)
Who: Moonybase and YOU
When: 23 December 2009. 8am - 10pm
Where: Moonybase.
Summary: An open invitation to a party never looked so good. Check your weapons and powers at the door.
Warnings: Probably everything. Please see this post for details.
Format: Whatever works. Don't forget to add your tag.
-
Remus had been to enough Christmas parties in his lifetime to know when one would end disastrously, including those that had been specifically dated to avoided interfering with other Christmas plans that the guests might have. This was one of them. But his tolerance had kept him quiet, the happy act of cleaning and decorating taken to as easily as any other task he did.
The twins had also been enlisted to help, given the important task of stringing a length of bright red ribbon and pine up the staircase to the second floor. The soft white lights that followed were magic. In fact, none of the lights, save for whatever lamps or overhead lights that Miles insisted upon, were run by electricity, and many were candles, kept only from setting anything ablaze by a flame-freezing charm.
By the time the morning of the party rolled around, the house looked as if it had been pulled straight out of a Christmas card, Remus borrowing from what he remembered of Christmases as Hogwarts and the Burrow, including a single bit of mistletoe in the entry. The snow helped, piling nicely (if in an oddly organized fashion) outside thanks to a little help from Miles, adding to the image; if nothing else, Remus was happy with it, the certainty that he would wind up having to transfigure another person into some sort of object nagging at the back of his mind.
Tin whistles, toy rocking horses, and sprigs of mistletoe were likely going to be very common later in the evening, he mused, tapping his wand rhythmically against the palm of his hand in thought as he checked everything over once more, walking through the sitting and dining rooms and out into the backyard where the tree house had been built out of ice and wood into the tree there. The floating green structures that Kyle Rayner had promised to provide were still missing, but they would be there soon enough.
He pocketed his wand and walked back into the house, shaking free the snow from his boots, and glancing at the clock. People who had offered their assistance had been asked to come early, which meant that the kitchen was soon going to turn into a madhouse, the extra stove only offering so much help. It also meant he had best make tea before he was banned from the room.
ooc; alkdsjfa you guys are amazing <3 For your convenience, links to the separate comment sections. To keep the death to your bandwidth down a little.
EARLY ARRIVALS: VARIOUS PREPARATIONS
TIMELY ARRIVALS: CHECK YOUR MOTIVES AT THE DOOR
SOCIALIZING FOR FUN AND PROFIT
GO AHEAD! TALK WITH YOUR MOUTH FULL!
I'M GOING TO PISTOL-WHIP THE NEXT GUY WHO SAYS 'SHENANIGANS'
THIS IS WHY MANKIND INVENTED THE 'GUEST BEDROOM'
AND THEN EVERYTHING ELSE HAPPENED HERE
TAKING YOUR TOYS AND GOING HOME
When: 23 December 2009. 8am - 10pm
Where: Moonybase.
Summary: An open invitation to a party never looked so good. Check your weapons and powers at the door.
Warnings: Probably everything. Please see this post for details.
Format: Whatever works. Don't forget to add your tag.
-
Remus had been to enough Christmas parties in his lifetime to know when one would end disastrously, including those that had been specifically dated to avoided interfering with other Christmas plans that the guests might have. This was one of them. But his tolerance had kept him quiet, the happy act of cleaning and decorating taken to as easily as any other task he did.
The twins had also been enlisted to help, given the important task of stringing a length of bright red ribbon and pine up the staircase to the second floor. The soft white lights that followed were magic. In fact, none of the lights, save for whatever lamps or overhead lights that Miles insisted upon, were run by electricity, and many were candles, kept only from setting anything ablaze by a flame-freezing charm.
By the time the morning of the party rolled around, the house looked as if it had been pulled straight out of a Christmas card, Remus borrowing from what he remembered of Christmases as Hogwarts and the Burrow, including a single bit of mistletoe in the entry. The snow helped, piling nicely (if in an oddly organized fashion) outside thanks to a little help from Miles, adding to the image; if nothing else, Remus was happy with it, the certainty that he would wind up having to transfigure another person into some sort of object nagging at the back of his mind.
Tin whistles, toy rocking horses, and sprigs of mistletoe were likely going to be very common later in the evening, he mused, tapping his wand rhythmically against the palm of his hand in thought as he checked everything over once more, walking through the sitting and dining rooms and out into the backyard where the tree house had been built out of ice and wood into the tree there. The floating green structures that Kyle Rayner had promised to provide were still missing, but they would be there soon enough.
He pocketed his wand and walked back into the house, shaking free the snow from his boots, and glancing at the clock. People who had offered their assistance had been asked to come early, which meant that the kitchen was soon going to turn into a madhouse, the extra stove only offering so much help. It also meant he had best make tea before he was banned from the room.
ooc; alkdsjfa you guys are amazing <3 For your convenience, links to the separate comment sections. To keep the death to your bandwidth down a little.
EARLY ARRIVALS: VARIOUS PREPARATIONS
TIMELY ARRIVALS: CHECK YOUR MOTIVES AT THE DOOR
SOCIALIZING FOR FUN AND PROFIT
GO AHEAD! TALK WITH YOUR MOUTH FULL!
I'M GOING TO PISTOL-WHIP THE NEXT GUY WHO SAYS 'SHENANIGANS'
THIS IS WHY MANKIND INVENTED THE 'GUEST BEDROOM'
AND THEN EVERYTHING ELSE HAPPENED HERE
TAKING YOUR TOYS AND GOING HOME
no subject
He'd walked away then, to keep Trowa safe, and he could understand, glancing up when Trowa gestured, following Starscream for as long as he was in sight, wondering if the Decepticon had even noticed them there. It also didn't help that Trowa had gone into space anyway, fighting despite having no Gundam to pilot, because he had something to protect.
"Ending this isn't going to make me any less important to you, Trowa," he pointed out, voice more gentle than he'd thought it would be.
He paused, finally looking back over at Trowa, the worry easy to read in his eyes. Would Trowa cut him out of his life completely to protect him?
"My part in the war is over," he admitted finally, looking away, speaking slowly, trying to keep the emotion out of his words. "I want to fight by your side as long as the Porter will let me. No matter what the consequence. You're trying to protect me, I know. But, you keep forgetting that I'm trying to do the same thing. We can't just making things go away, no matter how much we want them to. It doesn't work like that.
"If it did, I wouldn't be who I am, and neither would you."
no subject
Temporarily freed from his desire to detach himself by the pretense, Trowa mulled over what had been admitted, putting several pieces together. The scar, the way Quatre avoided the subject of what had happened, how much the blond had buried himself in his life here--'his part in the war was over'?
Then that meant he'd...
Trowa's arms tightened around his partner reflexively at the realization, and he hid the half of his face not covered by his hair in Quatre's neck, breathing softly, more unwilling to face an emotional life than he'd already been; how was he supposed to take that news? Why would he want to go back and have this in his own world if he knew how it would end? He couldn't. He was weak, now, too soft even in this place, even just hearing about the eventual outcome. To do it again where they could spare no time for grief? Where he wouldn't see? Couldn't hold the other? Couldn't save him?
End it. Make him leave. Make him change the other world. Then it doesn't have to happen.
"I don't have anything for you," he said, finally, not moving; the words were warm on Quatre's skin. "Not here. Not there."
No emotion threatened to break through now; he had to do this without leaving a way for Quatre to get in. With no cracks to be slipped into and no rips in the armor to be pulled wider. He knew the other would try, and they couldn't afford it.
"You're... rich. I can't comprehend how much--even more, in our world. And you have obligations. A reputation: Quatre Raberba Winner. Pacifist. Genius. Heir to a fortune. High society butterfly." He refused to let anything sneak in his tone as he added an afterthought, aware of the blond's family traditions. He'd researched the equivalent of his partner's home source while in the City, and knew that he himself wouldn't be acceptable in any way. "...A lot of wives. Hopefully, an heir."
Trowa inhaled, and pulled his head away from the other's neck, his eyes shut, settling back a little to keep himself out of Quatre's line of sight.
"Penniless clowns and bloodstained soldiers don't cut it."
no subject
He had stopped behaving as was expected when he was six and he planned to continue to for as long as whatever was keeping him alive stopped doing so.
"You," he emphasized, tilting his head so that the breath there would reach more skin. "What you've found of yourself. That's all you've given me and I don't ask for more."
It was confusing to have Trowa holding him like this, each word sending a warm chill down his spine until he finally gave in, reaching up to grasp Trowa's arm. What he was saying only irritated him and he dragged one heel back, bending his knee up, and sighed.
"I was disinherited by my father when I chose to be a Gundam pilot. Until I'm no longer one, I won't own my father's company, and all of it will go to my sisters and their children. Not me," he had taken care of the business aspects as a duty, to his family and his sisters, but the decisions for the company where left in his sisters' hands. "I won't sacrifice who I am for anyone, not even my father."
He fell silent as Trowa pulled away, dropping his hand back down as he closed his eyes, thinking. No, this wasn't working on him, and he was pretty sure that Trowa knew that too.
"Are you trying to convince me or yourself, Trowa?" he asked.