Application: Boomtown

[lumenrelegandus]

Player's Name: Merry
Are you over 16? Yes
Characters Played Here: Past: "Evans"/Lily Potter (tsingtauense)

Character: Remus Lupin
Series/Canon: Harry Potter/Books
From When? Long ways after canon!death and Resurrection
Previous Game(s): scorched

History:
• Headcanon: [I made some backstory for scorched that actually came into play there between characters who are now also in Boomtown, before additional information was added to the HP wiki. For boomtown I'll incorporate some of the new wiki info while keeping the Scorched continuity bits of the old? But book!canon reigns supreme!]

Lupin was born with the name Jonathan Parks to Phineas Parks (wizard) and Hope Howell (muggle). He had an older half-brother, Callum (muggle) from Hope's previous marriage, and younger full-sister, Melpomene ("Pomma"). It was Johnny's powers manifesting at a young age that inspired their parents to name Pomma in the wizarding tradition, correctingly anticipating she'd prove a wizard as well.

Phineas had run afoul of the werewolf Fenrir Greyback, who sought revenge on Phineas's family. Johnny was bitten and turned. He was seven years old.

The family had been… if not ideal, then at least fairly stable, before; but trying to hide and contain Johnny's condition put on terrible strain. Frequently moving to avoid being discovered, monthly incarceration for Johnny and siege for the family, resulted not only in the latter part of Johnny's childhood being isolated, frightened, and painful; Callum's and Pomma's were too.

(This is probably when Johnny read much of the muggle literature he would continue to quote throughout his life. Major retreat into books, and the less magical the better, just then.)

It wasn't exactly ennobling for any of them. Hope seemed to blame her husband for what happened to their son. Callum, always a bit resentful, came to outright hate Johnny, Phineas, and the whole Wizarding world. …And, even though she and Johnny had absolutely adored each other and shared their magical abilities… so did Pomma. When her Hogwarts letter arrived, she tore it up. As soon as she was old enough, she changed her name to something mundane. She proceeded to live a life of repression and self-loathing.

Johnny wouldn't learn about this until much later.

In the summer after Johnny's tenth birthday, Albus Dumbledore suddenly appeared on their doorstep. Phineas protested his entrance; but Johnny's transformations, as he grew, had gotten more and more difficult to contain, and on the last one, Phineas had been injured and was immobile. He told his family to try and keep Dumbledore out, but Callum refused to get involved, Pomma was still too small to do much more than stand in front of Dumbledore and look up at him; and Hope… after a moment's hesitation… picked her up out of his way. (That may have been as big a moment in shaping Pomma's future as any of the rest of it.)

But Dumbledore hadn't come to take Johnny to St. Mungo's. He sat down the family, Johnny included—possibly the first time they'd all sat in one room in years—and gave them a proposition. Johnny could come to Hogwarts. He'd be kept safe from himself and others more efficiently than at home, yet more able to socialize between moon cycles. He could even be given a new identity for protection of his family. But it would work best if he stayed there for the remainder of his childhood—never coming home.

With varying motives and emotions, everyone agreed.

Dumbledore renamed Johnny (a bit pointedly) "Remus Lupin".

At the time, Remus hadn't imagined the change to be permanent. When Lupin looked up his family in later years, he'd find his father had died, and the others had all adopted their own ways of denying or rejecting the wizarding world (Hope: extremist muggle religion; Callum: extremist muggle capitalism; Pomma Ellie: extreme equalizing anger.) There really was no going back.

• Canon (through POV filter) :
Hogwarts was meant to be the end of his loneliness and feeling like he was destroying everyone around him. For the first year, though, he remained quite isolated, talking to almost no one except Dumbledore and McGonagall—who also provided him with all his hand-me-down clothes and supplies. The closest he got to making friends was sharing a library table with another gangly, scrawny, pasty, ill-dressed, big-nosed bookworm named Severus Snape. However, before either could get around their own awkwardness to actually talk to each other, enter the Trickster Gods.

Why, of the two of them, it was Lupin that James Potter and Sirius Black decided to adopt and not Snape (Remus wondered if it was possibly to do with Sirius's own much-abused childhood and thinking he saw something similar in Lupin's, but not so similar as in Snape's—or could it really be the damn Houses thing?)… whatever the case, Sirius, James, and Peter simultaneously saved Remus's future and doomed it.

The rest of schooling were the headiest years of Remus's life. In Sirius, James, and Peter, he found the family he'd not only been missing for the last five years, but in a way felt he'd never had: true, undivided, incautious belonging. He would do—or fail to do—some things he'd later regret, but how could he ever have not served that feeling, this unit? Similaries to Snape continued in Remus also being completely besotted with (his fellow prefect) Lily Evans; but his handling of his feelings was opposite to Snape's. Remus did what he always does and made sure to support James and Lily all the more.

(One hiccough: The Animagus Scheme. On so many levels, so many times, it could have gone so catastrophically wrong. The scars on Remus's face, alone, were from Sirius and James having to fight him off Peter the first few tries. And though it resulted in some of the most ecstatic times in heightened-/distorted-memory, it may also, in its small inextricable way, have helped lead to later betrayals. Unlike Sirius and James, who got it, Peter was always more of the Callum [and Snape?] disposition: never truly understanding—or believing—that it was the wolf, not Remus, who'd attacked him.)

Graduation had long been a source of dread to Remus. He feared the end of this support system, this unit of friends, and having a place where the highest authority knew and protected his secret. He was spared those concerns—at terrible cost. Upon graduating, he and his friends went instantly into the first Order of the Phoenix and the war effort. Even doing such important work as part of the same team, they found themselves drifting apart, and mistrust was able to enter.

Then the worst day of Remus's life; 31 October, 1981.

How many times in one lifespan can a person be expected to lose everything, be left behind, and yet keep going?

(Never count. Or stop counting.)

The end of the war barely reached him, except in that it allowed space for utter collapse. Back to the Shrieking Shack, away from everyone, almost hoping he'd be assumed dead. But for Moony getting out into the forest one night and killing some game, Lupin might have let himself starve to death.

At some point, for what reason he could never say, he simply got up and went back.

He sought his own paid work, which never lasted long for the expected reason. There were times when he was homeless. (Not just in the sense in which he would always so be, now—as he believed.) Throughout it all, though, he kept in contact with Dumbledore and the rest of the Order and never hesitated to offer his services whenever he could. Defence had been his specialty field at Hogwarts; the mopping-up from the War provided tremendous field experience. He only volunteered for his friends—

(No, never again 'friends'. Not when one can be so profoundly cataclysmically wrong about people. It's one thing to lose them like we lost Lily, James, and Peter. But you, Sirius. You've ruined 'friends' for all of us.)

—former allies; never, ever asked for a job. Imagine how gobsmacked he was when Dumbledore offered him a dream one.

Returning to Hogwarts as a professor was beyond imagining. And somewhat beyond processing. He'd wanted so much the first time he arrived, and gained so much, and lost it. Now he wanted so little for himself, didn't expect anything, but gained the world.

For one thing, and this can't be overstated: he loved teaching. It was interesting and entertaining and rewarding, he enjoyed working with the children, had always enjoyed sharing knowledge, solving problems, finding shape to things… and he finally truly felt as if he was worth the space he took up in the world. That his existence had an actually positive possibility for others. (All his prior good works and efforts had been, to him, trying to balance or excuse what he felt to be his inherently negative impact on the universe.) He even started socializing with his peers again—though it was beyond bizarre to be positioned to consider his former teachers "peers". The premature appearance of age his condition, losses, and hard living had given him helped somewhat mask the dissonance.

For the other—the primary anchor back to ground. Lupin had never for a second expected to be entrusted with Harry as a guardian. Not after Sirius's (apparent) betrayal—but not ever, at all, because of Lupin's condition. But as Harry's professor, Lupin finally got to have a real relationship with him and do everything he could to help and support him as he'd always wished to.

His tenure there was too short but all-important. It ended as he supposed it always had to, but for the first time, in stark contrast to how he'd felt at the time about his early childhood and then his teenage friendships, he found how it ended far less important than the fact that it had happened at all. And in the things that came to light, his world again changed. Or perhaps, it had been wrongly changed before and was now set to rights. Lily and James were still gone. But he knew the truth.

He wouldn't have to return to debasing jobs for long—though he would never call what happened a 'reprive'. The Second War began. He would have liked to have been more accessible to Harry, to continue to give him direct aid. However, his (ever-damning) condition, in this case, made him ideally situated to tasks and missions few others could take on, so he was often away from the rest of the Order. He tried to focus on being glad to be able to serve in a way no one else could, rather than forever mourn and resent always drawing the more isolating duties. This time, at least, he had Sirius, if not always back at his side then at least back in the world, and his belief.

And then Sirius was lost again.

This time… something else happened to keep Lupin from simply succumbing to grief.

After much resisting, and much in spite of himself, Lupin finally let Nymphadora Tonks give him what would prove the happiest years of his life. With his wife and son, living with and serving their friends in the Order, even under the shadow of war. Until he and Dora at last gave their lives for it.

Unbeknownst to himself, he was posthumously awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class—the first werewolf ever given such honour.

• Post-canon (scorched):
Lupin arrived in Anatole dead and then revived. He didn't entirely return to his full self for a while. It took a lot of help from the woman who first found him there, gave him a place to stay, and with whom he became involved as they tried to help themselves and each other—until Tonks's arrival. (Which, for all concerned, Lupin handled very badly. In some defense, it came on the heels of Bellatrix playing with him.)

But credit as well to the Resurrection Stone. It established a precedent Anatole proceeded to live up to in the… three? years he spent there: astonishing opportunities to confront people and issues that had been left unresolved on Earth.

He got to re-meet, re-fall in love, re-make certain mistakes but this time actually mend them, and re-propose to and re-marry Nymphadora Tonks—and this time, after a fashion, live out a whole life with her.

He got a chance for vengeance on Bellatrix Lestrange… and, crucially, opt to not take it (twice; and complications).

He got to learn the outcome of the war (which is perhaps the greatest sacrifice of those who give their lives in one: typically not knowing) and what would become of Teddy and Harry and the rest.

…and overall, he got to become more of the man those he loved always thought he could be, without continuing to get in his own way of it.

The Mist-given power Lupin will take to New Dodge (besides the powers he had already, continued) is: his transformations into Moony are no longer slaved to the moon cycle, no longer insanity-inducing, and no longer involuntary. All it took was dying and transdimensional reassignment to a world actually made of magic, where thoughts can come true, to turn a werewolf into an animagus.

Preexisting powers he further honed in Anatole: what started as a volunteer shift at the local clinic became a (beyond) full-time managerial position, so Lupin had to get very good, very fast at healing spells. He was always battlefield-medic proficient, patch you up long enough to get you to an actual doctor, but he's advanced somewhat beyond that to actual healing.

He also got an extremely intense relationship to the Patronus Charm. It was something to grab onto from home, so the Mist (which sometimes reacts to intense emotions) played a hand; but the old Marauders' knack for spellbuilding/modifying/tinkering also certainly kicked in.

Part of the reason he'd once told Harry I can't claim to be an expert was that his own patronus had never actually taken fixed, corporeal form. In Anatole (with the aid of the Mist, but by now solidly enough understood by himself that he can still do it Mist-free), he continued to use the charm for more myriad purposes than Dementor-repulsion or message-sending; ranging from meditation to therapy to comforting to minor healing or cheering to a bodyguard against his own instability. He also learned how to give it willful, changeable shapes (perhaps in part owed to loving a metamorphmagus?)—but granted hasn't tried doing so since it finally assumed a set form.

He also kept up with some combat skills.

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 finds a way to care. (Even if his first loves and loyalties, especially from earlier in life when he considers them to have quite literally saved his life, are hard to compete with.) 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 historically been exceptionally unable to let go of his own losses. Most of his life has been lived with one foot in the past. [ Having died himself has helped somewhat, but the next remains fairly true. ] 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, Tonks, Teddy… and, if only such things were possible, absolutely everyone.

Sometimes these things aren't possible, or (very occasionally) for the best, but when in doubt he will choose: gentleness over accusation, kindness over sternness, questions over arguing, defense over attack, giving over receiving, understanding over aversion, learning over judgment, forgiveness over punishment. And if not possible to do good, at the very least, he will strive to do no harm.

(There are downsides to all of these—most characteristically, crippling doubt and disproportionate self-blame. But he'd still always rather be the one to get hurt than do the hurting. He hasn't always felt that way, he desperately raged against being the one repeatedly left behind [to survive] and has made some terrible mistakes in rebellion against that. But he always comes back around.)

Rather than his time away from Earth post-death (in scorched) changing this about him… it may actually have strengthened and returned him more closely to it.

He can also be sickeningly clever.

Does your character have any close ties to existing canon characters? (Scribbling thoughts re: canon characters already in Boomtown at the time of this app.)

Reuniting with James and Sirius while being so much older than them (always something he worries about far more acutely than need be/others might) isn't exactly a scenario Lupin had… actually, on some level, yes, he had thought about it, (you end up thinking about crazy things like that in Anatole, even when you're not someone obsessed with trying to think one's way out of the past,) but it wasn't his ideal. They'd all changed (would change?) so intensely much, and a lot of Lupin's changing would happen after James, especially… couldn't ever change again… in a way it would be worse than meeting a stranger because of… mismatched baggage. But hell, if he could go through it with Tonks, he suspects he can figure it out with them.

He does wonder how it'll work (especially w. Sirius!) now that he and Snape are at least as close—at least, more closely tied****—as Remus and the Marauders had been… all right, no, not that close, but they now have a kinship of not only matching timelines but matching multiverses. Oh, skies. At least Lupin isn't quite the cowardly pushover he'd once been. He'll refuse to be.

Seeing Hermione is always simply a relief and a joy, if tinged with his sorrow that she's again being diverted from what he hopes is the wonderfully fulfilling life awaiting her on Earth.

But the biggest one shall probably be… since his death on Earth (…and oh lord, what a multiverse that that needs qualifying…), Lupin hasn't had a reunion with Harry. He may have the same crisis of conscience he had with Scorched!Tonks: if they're from different points in the timeline, should he avoid the perils of sharing foreknowledge? …but perhaps he also learned something from that experience. Ultimately, for him, it won't be his choice, it'll be Harry's. In whatever universe, whichever timeline, it's Harry's life, and he gets to make his own decisions about it.

Why do you think your character would work in this setting? Why did your character accept Eli's offer? How will they respond to the setting? Will they interact well with others? If your character entered the game unwillingly, tell us how they'll react to the setting and whether you think they might choose to stay.

Lupin fluxed in. This won't be especially confusing to him: there will be no doubt in his mind that the Door sent him here.

Whereas he arrived at Anatole having just violently died mid-battle after seeing his wife murdered and was utterly, animalistically out of his head, his arrival at New Dodge came at a moment of monumental self-possession and calm and an active choice to leave his life. Of course, he'd thought the choice was between life and oblivion. He hadn't imagined a new life imposing itself on him. He didn't want one. He was ready to be finished.

It'll start making more sense to him (in his semi-superstitious but maybe not entirely off the mark way) when he sees his castmates here. There's nothing more compelling to him than the sense of possibly being needed. Especially by Harry. And that focus will very quickly expand to include everyone in New Dodge. So of course he'll choose to stay. If with some existential confusion as to the true nature of the multiverse.

What will your character do for work?
Whatever he can do to be of service to others and focus entirely on them rather than on himself. In Anatole he gave tutoring sessions, in whatever subject was commissioned, and worked in a Clinic, becoming more proficient in healing magic and even doing stints as a therapy/service animal. (And who doesn't want a [now!] friendly wolf helping them cope with hospital time?) He'll work in the greenhouse if that's what needed. Anything.

…Almost anything. He might refrain from offering his more flashy magical services until he's more certain of the place and the motives of the APS (if he ever can grow confident there!)—so not offering to do any mystical heavy lifting at first.

But what he always does best is teaching.

Inventory: a willow wand, 10¼", swishy, nice for charm work—a posthumous gift from a dear friend, courtesy of the Resurrection Stone (that same post linked for an umpteenth time). On (one of) Lily's appearance(s) in Anatole, he'd offered it back to her, but it always wound up back with him.

And given the era-colliding, AU frollicking nature of this Pottercast, let's make it interesting… even though Lupin hadn't taken them with him from Anatole, in New Dodge he'll discover two artifacts have somehow followed him:
i. a moving photograph of Harry, Ginny, Ron, Hermione, and their children in the peaceful postwar world (which does tend to follow him despite later giving it away) ;
ii. and an album of Teddy's infancy (raised by Tonks and Lupin) through young adulthood (raised by Andromeda, Harry, and the rest).

Third-Person Sample:

Past threads from scorched (already linked over the course of this app., but they are my favorites: )
i. I open at the close (Scorched/Canon crossover)
ii. the ballad of the nymph and the wolf (a.k.a. the campaign to make Bella go blind)

(Possible first post to boomtown)

'This isn't so much an "afterlife",' echoed one of Johnny Parks's favourite childhood books, 'more a sort of "après vie".'

Which it wasn't either. Not by half.

And he hadn't expected any of it.

…Hadn't wanted…

He'd had his life and an afterlife. An intensely long and life-like one.

And both had ended.
Conclusively.
He'd been finished. Over. Done.

He'd stepped through the Door into what was supposed to be oblivion.

You can be as snide as you like, but even an underdeveloped frontier is not actual oblivion.

He stood, hands empty at his sides—

—no, not empty; even when expecting death—real death, unbeing, not just end of [a] life—even when it was supposed to be gone and he didn't know how or when it had returned but that's the least of confusions right now—if it's in his hand he'll never let go of Lily's gifted wand—

and looked stupidly around him.

And, to himself or the appallingly, stupefyingly stubborn semblance of reality around him, Remus Lupin né Jonathan Parks could only more stupidly say,

(Not 'Where am I?' 'How'd I get here?' 'Oh hell…', only:)

"But I was finished…"

First-Person Sample: [Strong preference is given to a sample written as a letter or diary entry…]
Diary entry: An anniversary