lumenrelegandus: (resurrexit)
The little town was barely on most maps. It was rustic—quaint even for muggles. The roads were scarcely auto-worthy and you got the impression they liked it that way. Almost everyone had their own vegetable gardens, in addition to the surrounding farmland, and everywhere was walking distance from everywhere else. All showed a real love of this place. They seemed to consider it blessed. There were hints in their conversation, that they themselves would be unable to identify, that this was more than a feeling. Something was truly Charmed, here.

At one end of town, the dirt roads gave way to paved ones, to eventually connect up with the modern world. At the other end was a gentle hill with a tree on top, picture-perfect as a place to sit and read or gaze out at the village. What she was looking for would be on the other side.

Sure enough, with the hill between it and the village, still in the clear before the start of the woodlands, and set back from the… hardly road, here just a path—was a little one-storey house. Its colour was hard to tell anymore. The paint was so discoloured and the plants so overgrown. They climbed up the walls and windowsills and curved delicately around gutters. The lawn was completely covered in flowering weeds. It seemed that no one could be living here. But the sense the house gave was not of haunting or desertion. Rather, it seemed pleasantly like nature had moved back in. The family of birds under the eave, squirrels in the small tree, and rabbits in the overflowed garden seemed to agree. They gave the impression—unusual to their species—of feeling entirely safe.

But if you looked closely, you'd notice that the roof was in good repair, the windows were all intact, and the front door was clear of plants. Closer still, the doorknob was shiny from touch.

This must be the place.
lumenrelegandus: (Default)
Activity Archive II - Boomtown
Reverse chronological order

Boomtown )
lumenrelegandus: (Default)
Activity Archive I - Scorched
Reverse chronological order

Scorched )
lumenrelegandus: by d0rk_icons (vales)
Remus J. Lupin
UC A-51-04
Landed Settler: New Dodge
TC Call Sign 1283454


Hullo; please leave a message and I'll get back to you shortly.
Sona si latine loqueris.


IC Messages | TC | Private Messages

(Does not count towards AC)
lumenrelegandus: (veneficus)
out of character

Backtagging/Late tags: It's a way of life. One I practice.
Threadhopping/Threadjacking: Yes! Multiple threads are wonderful.
Fourthwalling/Canon-puncturing: Anything short of "Haha, you're from a book!" …Even that may be negotiable.
Offensive subjects: I'm intrigued!

in character - mine

Hugging/Kissing/Flirting with this character: OOC no objection! IC results will vary. ;-) For his own deepest feelings, he's very private and a bit exclusive; his first loves and loyalties are hard to compete with. Physicality with intent probably will be backed away from. He's also very careful about boundaries, esp. student/teacher. In all else, he's very warm and generous. Seeking or offering physical comfort not a problem.
Punching this character: Defensive magic is his field… can totally try?
Fighting with this character: Yesm! The only warning is that as a player, I get extra nervous not to "cheat" (given how there are so many spells for so many things) and I'll probably over-check everything with you as we go, to make sure I'm not stepping on toes. My modus operandus: I'll cast a spell but leave up to you how/whether it lands. —I do think Loop's probably hard to beat. His "weakness" (if you're so inclined) is that he defends more than attacks, and will generally try to exhaust nonviolence first.
Torturing/Injuring this character: Surely! I assume we'd plan.
Killing this character: We'll talk!
Breaking/Taking Wand: This particular wand was a posthumous gift from someone he loved tremendously. You'd pretty much get at it over his dead body. …Even then…
Using telepathy/mind-reading abilities: Please do! I'm a sucker for that sort of thing! (Here, have some POV and headcanon!) He has some ability to block it if he wants to (support for the idea he has legilimency/occlumency) but he has to be aware you're doing it before resisting.
Energy sensing: Lupin's either extremely powerful, or just reads as surprisingly powerful because it's so incongruous with his unthreatening physical appearance. (Bit of both.) What wizards mainly do is manipulate external factors and forces, but the power to do so is innate.

in character - yours

Power reading: One of Lupin's (maybe almost semi-canon) specialties is reading Magical Signatures. He can see what kind of spell was cast, like an afterimage, and who cast it, like a fingerprint. It's not exact, largely up to interpretation. Though his expertise is Merlinian (Harry Potter) wizardry, he's fairly good at seeing and analyzing the nature of/powers in others, if through the lens of his own technical understanding. If it's not already on your permissions page, care to tell me what he'd see? —This ability is sometimes automatic and sometimes requires his deliberate concentration. I don't think it can be blocked, exactly, but I'm happy to have him have no idea what he's looking at!

Mindreading: he probably is proficient in legilimens/occlumens (see again—I maintain it's mostly above-average but nonmystical empathy/perceptiveness) but is generally averse to using it. Should the rare occasion actually arise that he tries…?

Teleportation: "Apparition/Disapparition". Can he come right to you? Can he get instantly away from you? Typically the answer is "yes" unless your character exudes a force field or magical interference or has cast a counter-spell… which they may well (have)! Pray tell.

Other spellcasting (in combat and general): See above re: fighting, I'll check obsessively as we go. I always try to cast a spell but not dictate whether it works, or exactly how. Effects can always be bent. Anything out of bounds? Anything particularly interesting/effective? Anything that will mutate on impact? Anything automatically blocked? Other concerns/objections/requests? Please let me know! (My main reference for HP spells is here)

Services: Is there anything Lupin, with his spells, can do for you?

Anything else? Please ask/tell!

specifics - archive

T. Dojo IC Locations Entry
T. Permissions re: Death
T. Uber X-Rated Meme
T. Permissions re: Loki
T. Permissions re: Illyria
T. Medical Questionnaire
lumenrelegandus: (° Moony : allied)
All feedback welcome. Have some chocolate.
lumenrelegandus: (amandus)
Remus's Recommended Reading

I must pause yet once again. O, my child-wife, there is a figure in the moving crowd before my memory, quiet and still, saying in its innocent love and childish beauty, Stop to think of me—turn to look upon the Little Blossom, as it flutters to the ground!
I do. All else grows dim, and fades away. I am again with Dora.
~ Charles Dickens, David Copperfield

The most racking pangs succeeded: a grinding in the bones, deadly nausea, and a horror of the spirit that cannot be exceeded at the hour of birth or death. Then these agonies began swiftly to subside, and I came to myself as if out of a great sickness. …it remained to be seen if I had lost my identity beyond redemption and must flee before daylight from a house that was no longer mine… […] Instantly the spirit of hell awoke in me and raged. […] The pangs of transformation had not done tearing him, before Henry Jekyll, with streaming tears of gratitude and remorse, had fallen upon his knees and lifted his clasped hands to God.
~ Robert Louis Stevenson, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde

He fled in terror, reached the silent fields,
And howled, and tried to speak. No use at all!
Foam dripped from his mouth bloodthirsty still, he turned
Against the sheep, delighting still in slaughter,
And his arms were legs, and his robes were shaggy hair,
Yet he is still Lycaon, the same grayness,
The same fierce face, the same red eyes, a picture
Of bestial savagery. One house has fallen,
But more than one deserves to. Fury reigns
Over all the fields of Earth. Let them pay for it, and quickly!
So stands my purpose.
Part of them approved
With words and added fuel to his anger,
And part approved with silence, and yet all
Were grieving at the loss of humankind...
~ Ovid, Metamorphoses (translated by Rolfe Humphries)

There was once a witch who desired to know everything. But the wiser a witch is, the harder she knocks her head against the wall when she comes to it. Her name was Watho, and she had a wolf in her mind. …She was straight and strong, but now and then would fall bent together, shudder, and sit for a moment with her head turned over her shoulder, as if the wolf had got out of her mind on to her back.
~ George MacDonald, The Day Boy and the Night Girl

Let us first understand what we mean by the word magic. Magic is a mystery and we call a thing a mystery because we do not understand it. ...One kind is created by man, wherein he produces things which are magical or mysterious to everybody but himself because to him they are simple results due to natural causes which are manipulated by him.
~ Loϊe Fuller, "Lecture on Radium"
January 20, 1911, London, England


Oh, what the hell. Have some chocolate.


Albums

Sep. 17th, 2013 11:02 pm
lumenrelegandus: (Default)
Mother, I Climbed
Dave Carter & Tracy Grammer
On tomorrow’s painted wagon, in a yester-dreaming day
I rode to Heaven never thinking I’d be back this way
Now I’m standing at your doorstep with my halo turning grey
Open up your gate, Marianna

Lay me down in the dark womb of your love
Mother, I sought the chosen people,
But I found no one to comfort me
Lay me down in the dark womb of your love
Mother, I climbed the highest steeple
I found nothing to believe

When they called my faults against the wall, I took my place in line
And put my trust in priestly men to break the ties that bind
But their straight and narrow highway’s just a row of billboard signs
Open up your gate, Marianna

Lay me down in the dark womb of your love
Mother, I sang the sacred psalter
But no savior came to comfort me
Lay me down in the dark womb of your love
I went naked to the altar
I found nothing to believe

So I set my feet to walking from the sidewalk to the sand
In search of any saint or sage who knew the master plan
Yeah, I wandered every backroad in that broken Promise Land
Open up your gate, Marianna

Lay me down in the dark womb of your love
Mother, I kept the plain and simple
But no shepherd came to comfort me
Lay me down in the dark womb of your love
I stood shivering in the temple
I found nothing to believe

As lightning burns these bridges under, smoke will surely rise
And the fables of my innocence blow lazy through the skies
When timeless truths reveal themselves as little more than lies
Open up your gate, Marianna

Lay me down in the dark womb of your love
Mother, I razed the tainted chapel,
But no angel came to comfort me
Lay me down in the dark womb of your love
Mother, I stormed the Tower of Babel
I found nothing to believe

Sticks and stones might break this body and words might wound my soul
And phantom visions fly me where the faithful fear to go
But when this story’s over and my sun is sinking low
Open up your gate, Marianna

Lay me down in the dark womb of your love
Mother, the years pass out of counting
But no prophet comes to comfort me
Lay me down in the dark womb of your love
Mother, I climbed the holy mountain, I found nothing to believe
Mother, I climbed the holy mountain, I found nothing to believe


The Lark
Kate Rusby
Out in the field where the lark, it flies,
Over the earth where my heart, it lies.
Oh, how it sings when the west wind blows
Out in the field where no one goes.

Oh how, I'm cold, will you let me in?
If you could hear me speak, where I would begin?
Time, it is past now and I roam free.
Is it wrong to wish you still need me?

Out in the field where the lark, it sings,
There I was waiting for all love brings.
There I stood and there I fell,
Out in the field that I know well.

Oh how, I'm cold, will you let me in?
If you could hear me speak, where I would begin?
Time, it is past now and I roam free.
Is it wrong to wish you still need me?

Out in the field where the lark resides,
Here I'll remain where my heart can hide.
Only the lark and the west wind know
I'm in this field where no one goes.

Oh how, I'm cold, will you let me in?
If you could hear me speak, where I would begin?
Time, it is past now and I roam free.
Is it wrong to wish you still need me?
Is it wrong to wish you still need me?


In Another Life
Vienna Teng
In another life, you and I worked West Virginia coal mines, side by side.
Collecting the black dust like sin. The day the main shaft caved in, I caught your eye.
As the lantern light guttered out and the afterdamp swallowed us slowly,
I gripped your hand and caught a glance of the next time 'round.

In another life, you and I were Red Guards in training, side by side.
We marched on Tiananmen, turned our own parents in for hoarding rice,
And in the Great Leap, forward we crawled on our bellies and died.
A blood orange sky gave a cry of next time 'round

In another life, I was married at thirteen.
You were killed at twenty-one on a minor battlefield.
I was buried beside my second stillborn child,
My last thought, it seemed, a fever dream.

Now we sink into a summer afternoon: Central Park in June,
Marveling at the bounty our days contain.
We feel it like the shiver of a passing train:
That other life, deep underground…
You and I, side by side,
We are the next time 'round.


Howl
Florence + The Machine
If you could only see the beast you've made of me
I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free
Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart
drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart

My fingers claw your skin, try to tear my way in
You are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to howl
My fingers claw your skin, try to tear my way in
You are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to

Howl, howl
Howl, howl

Now there's no holding back, I'm making to attack
My blood is singing with your voice, I want to pour it out
The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound
I hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallow'd ground

like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins
I want to find you tear out all your tenderness

And howl, howl
Howl, howl

Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers
Starts so soft and sweet and turns them to hunters
Hunters, hunters, hunters
Hunters, hunters, hunters

The fabric of your flesh, pure as a wedding dress
Until I wrap myself inside your arms I cannot rest
The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound
I hunt for you with bloodied feet across the hallow'd ground

And howl

Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers
Starts so soft and sweet and turns them to hunters
A man who's pure of heart and says his prayers by night
May still become a wolf when the autumn moon is bright

If you could only see the beast you've made of me
I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free
The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound
I hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallow'd ground
lumenrelegandus: (manes)
Who: Albus Dumbledore, Sirius Black, Guess Who, and The Sorting Hat
What: Origins and meditations
When: July-September, 1971
Warnings: HEADCANON ALERT (duh). And Sirius's vocabulary of swear words at age 11.

trust me, you will )
lumenrelegandus: (abnormis sapiens)
in honor of Haruno Sakura and Shirley

Anyone seeking employment or wishing to volunteer at the Clinic:
IC • interview with Remus Lupin or Nymphadora Tonks (if they haven't already recruited you). This can be scened or handwaved.
OOC • respond to this post using the form below and I'll edit you in!

Current roster:
click on hyperlinks for full staff profiles

Administration: Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks

Staff doctors: Anders[R], Ginko, Martha Jones, Raphael[R], John Watson

Part-time: Edward Elric, Tallisibeth Enwandung-Esterhazy (Scout), Neirenn[R]

Volunteers: Orihime Inoue, Kotetsu T. Kaburagi, and many Anatolean NPCs—grab one at will!

Supplies: Tonks, Edward

Sponsors/Benefactors: Arthur Pendragon


[R] = Resident. These characters have their own room on the second floor of the Clinic that they live in more or less full-time. Which also means they're likely to be the first on-call for emergency drop-ins, esp. during the night.

~*~

Full staff profiles:



**Post outlining Clinic layout and crisis procedures** (more concise list in progress)
lumenrelegandus: (Default)
It's said dreams are the amalgams of your waking thoughts: conscious with subconscious combined and given form. Dreams aren't omens. They can be used to reevaluate that to which we're consciously blind. "What you're in the middle of, you're least likely to see."

It's also said: the dreamer is everyone and everything in the dream.

Last night I dreamed I was in bed in the tower. A cat was sitting on my chest. She, McGonagall, said, "Idiot boy, I think more of you than that." Severus sat next to me on the edge. He was glaring (not unusually) as if (again) I'd failed him terribly. I understood: they were angry at me for forgetting, and keeping me human before I was caught.

Derivations: most obvious feel least relevant. Dream analysis, per above theories, ought to be done by the dreamer. Only they can know the full scope of resonance. Yet for my life I can't decide if by virtue of it being my brain I must be seeing the deeper truth; or if across the divide from Dreamtime to reality, consciousness is imposing its limited bias. Still, the impression's become unshakable. It's not what I would have expected.

Blame is too insidious to ignore, but it is an emotion, nothing more. It is not a fact which requires affirmation or refute, not a revelation which requires action. It is a wound which requires treatment before it becomes unmanageable.

You die and I dream of one I still blame for creating you, and one I still blame you for creating.

And the dreamer is everyone in the dream.

[ RJL private journal entry, exactly 1 year after SB's death ]
lumenrelegandus: (Default)
This is Remus Lupin. Please message me here for any questions regarding the Clinic or tutorials at the dojo.

If you have just arrived and know my voice, call me. I'll find you.

Sona si latine loqueris.*
lumenrelegandus: (Default)
Out of Character Information


player name: Merry
player livejournal: [livejournal.com profile] halflingmerry 
playing here: In the past: Clint Barton/Hawkeye ([personal profile] antivillain ), DI Greg Lestrade ([personal profile] raisedplatform), Daniel Trepkos ([personal profile] trephaestos), Spike ([livejournal.com profile] samianscar), Jane Chatwin ([personal profile] justwatch) —and Lupin. This is my second time applying!
where did you find us? Le grande [livejournal.com profile] eisdamme !
are you 16 years of age or older?: Yes.

In Character Information


character name: Remus John Lupin
Fandom: Harry Potter
Timeline: Immediately after death. Came to Anatole dead and was revived.
character's age: Born 1960, died 1998. The rest depends on your perception of Time.

powers:

HPwiki: "a very talented and powerful wizard", (non-magically) “able to extract the best in everyone.”
Lupin's strongest aptitude is defensive magic. His reflex will always be to defend rather than attack. It's very hard to take him by surprise. Innate strengths include the reflexive (usually involuntary) charge that can kick in when conscious defenses are down. See Permissions page (power reading, possible basic legilimency/occlumency, etc).

Some would call lycanthropy a kind of power. He doesn't. To him it's always been a disease. However, it probably does strengthen his offensive powers, and definitely gives him some magical immunities.
In Anatole, he may find it's no longer directly linked to a lunar cycle. Instead it may be more reactive to emotional state. The plus side of this: he can channel its reserves, like superhuman strength, while human. The down side: transformations may prove negative-response-related.


update: In Anatole, Lupin developed to the point where he was able not only to transform at will, but started using the wolf (referred to as "Moony") to productive/positive effect. (Most memorably, as a clinic therapy dog.)
 

Mundane powers: near-eidetic memory, acute perceptiveness (sometimes mistaken for legilimency)

skills:
more HPwiki: "Exceptional skill at dueling and knowledge of magic." “Defense Against the Dark Arts Master”, “Nonverbal and wandless magic expert” (“both are very difficult, indicating Remus’ magical power and skill”), “Master Duelist”, “Charms expert”, “Flying skills”.
Areas of expertise: Defense Against the Dark Arts and Muggle Studies. (Always interested in history and philosophy/religion.)

Lupin has a near-encyclopedic knowledge of spells, which includes the Dark Arts—not just as prerequisite to Defence Against. He (also) picked up spell-building from James and Sirius. Their genius was largely in the knack of perceiving and manipulating the intangible, mechanical components of magic. It can be handy way of thinking about magic, that leads to nonlinear ideas about it. That may be Lupin's greatest talent: thinking at things from different sides and finding new approaches. He's the most unjudgmental and patient listener you’re going to find. Best teacher ever.

pets: James used to say Moony was his own familiar. Nowadays, the man could really do with a cat or something.

equipment: Latin, chocolate, and a broken wand.

update: acquired, a working, intact wand ( willow, 10¼", swishy, nice for charm work )

canon history:
Born in 1960, of mixed blood, he rarely talks about his early life. At age eleven, he was bitten by Fenrir Greyback and made a werewolf.

He was admitted young to Hogwarts by Dumbledore personally. The Headmaster didn't want to see the boy lost to his disease. To help him become a full and productive member of the wizarding world, Dumbledore took several extraordinary steps.

A tunnel was dug from the Whomping Willow (protecting its entrance) connecting the Hogwarts grounds to the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade. Every month, Remus locked himself in the Shack to transform without posing a threat. The sounds became legendary and caused the Shack's notoriety. Back at Hogwarts, he was always mended by Mme. Pomfrey, who, along with Prof. McGonagall, helped Dumbledore keep his condition secret.

The arrangement worked to keep Lupin safe—but incredibly lonely. Along came James Potter, Sirius Black, and Peter Pettrigrew. They befriended Lupin, rather in spite of himself and his terror that upon discovering his secret they would abandon him for it. Discover it they did, and instead of leaving, they committed the greatest act of devotion Lupin has ever known: studying to become Animagi to keep him company. His wolf form proved docile with their animal forms, so his monthly incarceration in the shack was replaced with adventuring ("Marauding") with his friends. It was the first happiest time of his life.

The second happiest time of his life came many years later, after more periods of pure awfulness. (Life always seems to balance like that, in stupendous extremes. Not for wizards, a moderate life...)

The awfulness included long periods of loneliness and drifting. Antilycan prejudice kept him often jobless, even homeless. Then, Halloween 1981: the most awful day of his life, when (apparently) Sirius Black killed James and Lily Potter and Peter Pettigrew. In one stroke, everyone he lived for was gone. —Except Dumbledore, to whom he eventually returned, leading to, at last, the good bit: Lupin became Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts.

Lupin loved teaching more than anything. His students for that too-short term considered him the best DADA professor (and perhaps one of the best teachers, period) they'd ever had. Not least, in James's and Lily's son Harry, Lupin found a new familial friend to whose care he could devote himself. This of course ended too quickly, but as it had to... with the (sort of) redeeming trade-off of discovered the truth about Peter and Sirius. [ Details here ]

Another rather rotten period ensued, though he was more used to it now, and there were mitigating factors. He had Sirius back, for a time, and continued to help Harry and serve Dumbledore in the Order of the Phoenix. Though he was very glad to contribute to the war effort, it was still Lupin's lot to have depressing, isolating duties. In this case, they took him away from the people he wished to help (especially Harry) and too close to the side of himself he was always trying to escape: working with other werewolves.

Every time he returned to the Order, he grew steadily closer to Nymphadora Tonks. At last, she wouldn't let him sacrifice his feelings any longer (or hers, thank you very much) and they were married. The prospect of having a child nearly threw him over a very bad edge indeed, but he got back on track. The third, maybe best, happiest time: finally, finally whole and happy with his wife Tonks and son Teddy, helping their friends.

—just in time to be killed in the final battle of the Second War alongside Tonks.

Strange, terrible balances, indeed.


Scorched updates: See archive. (In-game developments index in progress.)

personality: An utterly undemonstrative man, yet an extremely capable and talented wizard. There is a quiet assurance about him that makes him a calming presence, even in the situations where unselfishness and reason are usually the first things to go. He's intensely private, yet penetratingly perceptive and sensitive to those around him. And he always, no matter how removed or strange the person involved, always cares. If someone is in need, he can often help with a gentleness and diplomacy that others can't manage. His popularity as a teacher was largely due to his skills in positive reinforcement and mediation; his thoughtfulness, kindness, and humour.

Once, the unfortunate flip side was that he had difficulty when negative reinforcement was required. Certain histories, personal and worldly, may have been reshaped had he been able to face antagonising those who'd offered him acceptance. At this point in the afterlife, he may have gotten better at this.

Though he's exceptionally skilled at helping others deal and grow helpfully through pain, he’s also been exceptionally unable to let go of his own losses. Most of his life has been lived with one foot in the past. [ It remains to be seen whether having died himself will help deal with the next round. ] Not liking this about himself, he's always done his best to throw his entire focus off himself and devote himself to others. He lived to help his friends, to serve Dumbledore, to teach, to care for Harry. (As said: Teaching, Marauding, and Tonks/Teddy were, to him, the bright moments of his life.)

[ original Note: Given that he was just violently killed in action after seeing the love his life struck down... it should be noted that Lupin may not be quite his relaxed & groovy wonderful self for the first little while. ]

why do you feel this character would be appropriate to the setting? Bellatrix Lestrange. The one person, above even Voldemort, he’s harbored violently vengeful fantasies—had literally Unforgiveable dreams—about. She killed Sirius. Now she’s also killed Tonks.
Either he’s here as a ghost to haunt her—or, having lived most of his life in a semi-self-imposed purgatory anyway, it makes sense he wouldn’t be able to let go simply by dying. (Or wouldn't want to.)

That's the entry point. How he develops past it remains to be played, but Lupin can't be fueled by vengeance for long. Whether he succeeds or his better nature prevails, he'll eventually look for a more nurturing and constructive cause. If there's any way to start teaching again, he'll do it. Probable pet causes:

  • working past the Anatolian-Scorched prejudice [ I see him playing chess with Magneto now ]
  • Restoring information on the Veneficus
  • [ Grandiosely, therefore secretly ] Learn and teach to create a new generation of Veneficus, to attempt to restore this world.

...Alternately, if Bella does something like introduce an infestation of boggarts, Lupin'd be a great exterminator.

Update: See again the Archive for everything he went through and grew into in Anatole the last time... highlights including his on-again-off-again rehab-alliance with Bellatrix, his remarriage to Tonks, his truly bewildering friendship with Snape, all the new and intensely important and valued relationships with non-castmates (e.g. Lust), and the fact that the Pottercast has grown in leaps and bounds since last he was here—INCLUDING      ALL      THE      OTHER      MARAUDERS...!!

 
Writing Samples


Network Post Sample I:
[OOC: Lupin 1.0, the initially undead, obsessed, and exceptionally grumpy]

[ see first post ]

Network Post Sample II:
[OOC: Lupin 2.0, after settling in a bit; his more typical ] [ voice ]

I'm happy to announce—not to rub it in anyone's face—that I've been having wonderful success with storytelling hour. Being seen to teach or preach is deservedly hazardous, but it seems Anatolian children can be simply entertained by the Scorched without ruffling too many feathers. Dreams of a school without these barriers notwithstanding: I'm relieved and content with this, equally as a starting place or an end in itself. Anyone, of any age or affiliation, is encouraged to stop by.

Now a general request. I've been thinking of writing something formal on the Veneficus. There's so much in the air about them but I find little in the way of a paper trail. If you have any information, anything at all, no matter how legendary or ridiculous, I would love to hear it. Stories can have value beyond the factual.

If you have just arrived and know my voice, call me. I'll find you.

Sona si latine loqueris.2
2[ "Honk if you speak Latin" ]

Update:
 My favorite Broadcast Mind from last time around: /.waning.gibbous.\

Third Person Sample:

Gradations in the mist. A man in dull, drab clothes, with silver-flecked hair and ashen face, walking from shadow to shade. If his outline seems blurred it must be the Mist... or maybe this is his dream of himself. Very tall, doesn't look it for a stoop; cranelike in his long, spindly limbs and heavy-held head; unexpectedly young but torn face prematurely aged. He'd fit in so well among bookshelves and chalkboards, without the scars. In his hand, hanging at his side as if forgotten, a wooden stick, cracked, upper half hanging off the lower by a thread. Plods through this world without giving it a glance: focus far gone, far, far away.

She'd come out of nowhere, shouting him a warning
and though she succeeded in throwing herself between
him and the killing curse that had been aimed at his back
and deflecting it, they fought back to back for only an instant,
their minds crashing together knowing it was their last chance
—teddydamnyourunilove—

The curse that hit him in the shoulder and face spun him around and forced him to his knees; only to catch her in his arms with the cruciatus that left her convulsing and crying his name; and the white flashes turned suddenly green and she—

Stop, stop... he stops. One shoulder crashes to the nearest wall and he presses the sides of his head with both hands. The glimmering thread of the broken wand flickers, so close to his thoughts—

Until he hears the sound of someone crying. He raises his head. His outline is suddenly distinct. He blinks, frowns, glances at his wand for the first time, then sticks it in his pocket. He sets off in the direction of the sound at a slow, loping run—strangely fluid for one who hobbles when he walks. Another's pain would still (thank you, yes) always supersede his own.
 
Update: from the last time around, one of his first logs: I open at the close ; and his final log: a pale moon rises


anything else?: His long absence from Anatole was due to in-game death. See final log above.
 
 
 
 

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Remus Lupin

January 2021

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