Remus Lupin

for lancifolium

Sun, 17 Jan 2021 04:22:36 GMT

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.

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drafty draft of draftishness

Sun, 18 Jan 2015 13:45:33 GMT

( POV chapter [IN PROGRESS] )

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The Index II

Mon, 20 Oct 2014 06:11:17 GMT

Activity Archive II - Boomtown
Reverse chronological order

( Boomtown )

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Albums

Thu, 18 Sep 2014 06:23:09 GMT

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

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IC Contact: Boomtown

Fri, 15 Aug 2014 23:31:01 GMT

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)

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Application: Boomtown

Sun, 10 Aug 2014 16:03:31 GMT

( OOC )

( History )

( Powers )

( Personality )

( prelim CR )

( Misc )

( Equipment )

( Writing samples )

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Not who we are, but who we will be

Sun, 29 Apr 2012 18:27:16 GMT

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 )

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Clinic Directory

Sun, 04 Mar 2012 06:05:32 GMT

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)

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