darkart: ( commission, dnt ) (in the boiler room)
sᴇᴠᴇʀᴜs. ([personal profile] darkart) wrote2016-02-03 09:37 pm

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SEVERUS SNAPE

pushfall: (Default)

audio.

[personal profile] pushfall 2014-11-24 03:23 am (UTC)(link)
[ The suggestion to crash in her room following said shower lives and dies in the back of her brain for two very distinct reasons, one of them being dogs, the other being more plainly obvious and volatile. ]

I'm gonna come up, a little later. Okay?
pushfall: (⚕ and keep my whole lovely you)

[personal profile] pushfall 2014-11-24 04:03 am (UTC)(link)
[ That's a suggestion everyone involved in the conversation is glad never gets made. ]

Okay. I'll message you before I come up. Happy showering.

[ Is the note she ends on before retreating back into the dying down noise of medbay and beyond. Three hours later sees the gardens checked and the dogs locked away with some amount of guilt. When she pings him prior to her arrival and subsequent knock, the promise it indicates might be the most foreboding yet. ]

next time I'm bringing the dogs
pushfall: (⚕ the weakness in giving in)

[personal profile] pushfall 2014-11-24 04:49 am (UTC)(link)
[ Claire is immediately sorry that she woke him at all, and her face shows every inch of it. ]

Oh god.

[ She had been expecting some bleary-eyed response - if anything; honestly, it was a fifty-fifty chance that he would even answer in the first place - but he actually does really look like hell. Most of them do, to some degree, but not really enough to warrant a verbal approximation of the fact, unlike this encounter. Probably it's not the politest thing to say to hi but she is beyond the point of being able to reel it in. Pretty soon she's going to start showing all her stars and stripes via accent. ]

What happened? [ She indicates his eye by stepping into the room and trying to get a better look and then belatedly feels the need to clarify. ] Your eye's all red.

[ Making progress toward better people manners and less caveman manners with every step. ]
pushfall: (Default)

[personal profile] pushfall 2014-11-24 05:20 am (UTC)(link)
[ For a moment, she looks confused, and then - ]

Okay. [ She says, as if problems like this arise all the time and bring their logical conclusions with them. The reality of it is that she doesn't have the luxury of time to coordinate a discussion about it, given the overall fucking terrible state of him. ] That makes sense.

[ She feels bad, in some way, given the beating that he's taking the past couple of jump cycles. She's taken a beating herself but doesn't bear the same brunt to show for it. Wordlessly, she catches his jaw and part of his neck in her palm in order to kiss him. ]

I'm glad you're not dead.

[ It's an inelegant way of expressing anything, but there it is. The damp of his hair drags across the bend of her knuckles and she pulls back, moving to sit. ]
pushfall: (⚕ chase thunder with the volume down)

[personal profile] pushfall 2014-11-24 03:37 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Claire draws her legs up to unlace and then remove each boot individually. The first drops with a well-placed thud, perfect for punctuation. ]

Yeah. That was one way of shaking them out of it. [ Her boot tries to decide whether or not it's going to remain upright or topple over. It chooses the latter. Claire starts on the next, barely thinking about Erik or Odessa; trying not to, at least. She doesn't say anything until the other boot has been worked off of her foot and is poised to disappear to the floor. ] Eventually the telepaths - or, angels? I don't know - managed to figure out how to break through without, you know... needing to kill anyone.

[ Once her shoes are removed, she leans back against the wall, covering a yawn with her fingers and drawing up her knees until her heels are flush with the mattress. ]
pushfall: (⚕ in my veins and overlands)

[personal profile] pushfall 2014-11-24 11:33 pm (UTC)(link)
I'm fine.

[ It's strange, to be bothered and yet not bothered by the things that happened, to have a working understanding of her role and place as a tool and to find value in that despite being consistently paranoid that someone will discover what she is and use it for that very same purpose. Cat's out of the bag now, though, she supposes, and her apathy regarding the whole situation is possibly palpable. Of course she's all right. It seems unjustified to be anything other than all right when she's volunteered her ability now and in the past. Claire recognizes that it's a messed up way of thinking, but there are people out there who aren't alright, in a hundred ways that she will never relate to.

Eventually, she looks sideways at him, feeling like she might go cross-eyed from exhaustion. One look at him, his eye, remembering the smell of burnt clothing and skin, just reaffirms how she feels. ]


I know I should probably say that I'm not okay. I died twice, technically. But I don't feel anything about it one way or another. I should've died a million other times before I even got here. I've always been fine. [ She kicks her leg out to nudge him with her foot. ] It's not something we have to talk about right now, at any rate. I can tell you're exhausted.
pushfall: (⚕ be the one with my heart in my lap)

[personal profile] pushfall 2014-11-25 12:18 am (UTC)(link)
I know.

[ It's not a dismissal or some kind of platitude designed to displace. Like him, she would rather not talk about something than talk about it any day of the week, in most circumstances. She doesn't feel like she's withholding anything, but at the same time she's thankful that he doesn't press her, right now. Despite being tired, she'll probably lay awake for an hour trying to piece together how she wants to say everything. She'd like to tell someone. She'd like to tell him. Being comfortable enough to share is still very new.

He'll be able to see the small quirk at the corner of her mouth as much as he should be able to feel it against his fingers. ]


I think I might die. [ Is a terrible joke. Claire moves to unwind her arms and legs and scoot over toward him. ] I want to hear about the halls and stuff later.

[ Fair trades are fair. ]
pushfall: (⚕ excess until we stop hearts)

[personal profile] pushfall 2014-11-25 02:19 am (UTC)(link)
Okay.

[ Her voice is soft and casual, comfortable. She stays propped up with one hand jammed into the comforter for a moment, elbow locked, and waits until he's laid down before swinging herself over his legs and out of the warm circle of the bed. Her jumpsuit being done for, all she has left are the few pairs of jeans she's managed to scrounge up. Anything is more comfortable to sleep in than jeans, even if she does drown in the material.

Severus's breathing has leveled out by the time she emerges from changing, still in her own t-shirt but now without denim, and she only disturbs it to climb in after him and big spoon the hell out of him. True to form, she lies there for what feels like hours, trying to persuade her brain to shut down while forcing it to continue running until the end result is being unable to determine whether or not the conversation she's preparing is something that has actually taken place or not.

Sleep drops on her unannounced, when it finally does. ]
pushfall: (Default)

[personal profile] pushfall 2014-11-25 05:08 am (UTC)(link)
[ Awake enough that once the spot he was occupying becomes available, Claire slides into it and stretches her legs and arms, one of the latter under a pillow, until she has taken up more space than should be possible for anyone. He's gone long enough that she's able to float miserably between awake and asleep and ruminate on what a terrible dog owner she is before rolling over when she hears the door open. ]

Hi. [ Her voice is still thick with sleep. She makes no move to extricate herself from blankets. ] Everything good?
pushfall: (⚕ no last chance to promise)

[personal profile] pushfall 2014-11-25 05:43 am (UTC)(link)
[ For her part, Claire rolls over all the way and scoots herself back until she's practically flush with the wall. It feels cool through blanket and shirt but not unpleasantly so. While he situates, she rummages through the hills and valleys of the comforter for her communicator, leaving one eye screwed shut to check the time and determine that she is not going to pet owner hell just yet. She keeps her eye closed under the misguided assumption that leaving one closed will make getting back to sleep after closing the other that much easier. ]

Sleepy. Awake. For now. [ That other green eye opens, and his half of a blanket increases in size as she throws some more toward him. ] You aren't dreaming right now, are you?

[ She's mostly not serious. ]
pushfall: (⚕ there's a fever in my heart)

[personal profile] pushfall 2014-11-25 06:28 am (UTC)(link)
[ For about thirty seconds, Claire wonders if she's the one who is actually dreaming. ]

I saw, before - is now really the best time for that? [ That question is mostly hypothetical, though if she was still asleep before, it's taken a backseat to incredulity for the moment. As for the more legitimate and pressing of the two presented issues - ] I doubt any of the people you need to check on are awake enough to be of any use yet, too, in your defense. You could and should probably get away with a few more hours.
pushfall: (Default)

[personal profile] pushfall 2014-11-25 07:17 am (UTC)(link)
[ Claire opens her mouth to say something in return, decides that it's not worth the effort it would take to agree one way or the other, and just drags the top of the blanket over her head. The toes of her socks poke out from the other end. People were hurt. People did terrible things. You don't just get to string a bunch of lights together and make it all go away. ]

Maybe it's a coping mechanism.

[ From beneath the blanket, muffled. Her voice is flat. It's plain she's not buying that as an excuse to sweep everything under the rug in an effort not to deal with it. Although maybe there's some degree of hypocrisy in that. Maybe she'd like to stay under here forever. ]
pushfall: (Default)

[personal profile] pushfall 2014-11-25 02:34 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Her kneejerk reaction now is to fish her comm out from under the pillow where it has ended up and power up the network to distribute passive aggressive and bratty comments to anyone who thinks setting up a Christmas party in the wake of what has happened is a good idea, but it seems like more trouble than it's worth. In some ways, Claire feels like she's growing as a person, in that respect. In other ways, she feels like the rewards for being more detached regarding situations like that vastly outweigh the satisfaction derived from saying anything at all; namely, less time spent wallowing in frustration and more spent in a dark cocoon that smells vaguely like shampoo.

A little of the pale light from the room creeps in via the gap between blanket and pillow letting cool air in, and Claire uses that as a guide to trace her eye and then her thumb across the thin skin showing dark blood vessels underneath the red bloom of his sclera. At the mention of William and what follows, she pulls back a bit. ]


Probably stay in isolation for a while, just for starters. It wasn't anything he did on purpose, right? [ Her tone doesn't show any anger, maybe some tired resignation, but even if he didn't mean to hurt anyone, he did, in a sense. It's something that needs to be considered. ] What did you see down there?

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