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asgardmeridiem2013-12-04 02:53 am
albuquerque) wrote in asgardmeridiem2013-12-04 02:53 am
Fading sun, what have I done
Who: Severus Snape and closed threads to: Alice Liddell, Barty Crouch Jr., Voldemort, Hermione. Otherwise OPEN TO EVERYONE.
What: The aftermath of Mirror Verse
When: Days 365 through to 367-ish (up to and including the earthquake)!
Where: Various places around the city
Rating: PG for now, though there will be some violence at some point.
[Upon returning to the real Asgard, upon realising with sick dread that he's returned without Lily, Severus goes into hiding for the following two days. It's the only thing he can do while war is still waging outside. He's so bone-weary, feels so physically and mentally broken, that he can't face another moment of devastation and destruction and terror. He can't bare to think about Lily still being trapped there, unsafe, lost, her life horribly in danger.
He's failed her. Again. Seems that's the curse he has to live with: always failing the very woman he secretly, desperately, longingly loves with every wretched fibre of his being.
Despite how sore he is, how much he's aching in his muscles and deep in his bones, how heavily lost in a murky depressed fog he is, he throws himself into working on school schedules and doing what he can to organise school matters from the privacy and safety of his own place. It gives him purpose. Gives him focus. And when the explosion of heat suddenly sweeps across the city, Severus is safe enough to have to only duck down with a scramble under his desk, although the heat that settles heavy and oppressive in every nook and cranny is like being trapped inside a burning oven; very soon, he's scrabbling and tearing at his clothes, desperate to get them off and away from his perspiring skin.
In fact, it's the heat itself - and the apparent end of warring giants that's followed in its wake - that prompts Severus to eventually decide to venture out onto the streets. The heat is blazing, hotter than any heatwave he can remember ever hitting Britain; with very few clothes to call his own save those he arrived in Asgard with all those months ago, he has no choice but to don only his black slacks and white shirt, lest he faint from heat exhaustion.
Though he desperately wants to roll his sleeves up, he doesn't - his Mark has faded back to a faint reddish outline, dead and dormant, but he doesn't want to see it, doesn't want anyone else to see it. He'd rather swelter than ever let his shameful Mark see the light of day. His shirt clings wetly to his back with pit stains under his arms; his black hair clings in sweaty strands to the back of his neck while his forehead is bathed with perspiration. His face, however, despite being ruddy with the heat, is pale, withdrawn, pinched with a deeply repressed bitterness that's dangerously simmering beneath the surface.
It's not just the heat that's getting to him - it's the stubbornly unspoken thoughts and even more stubbornly ignored feelings about the previous several days bottling up inside him. Waiting to explode. Like a ticking time-bomb.
He will be found frequenting the Great Library and the school building he's bought, traversing between the two at regular intervals while he moves everything across to his new office. And in between his trips to the library or to the school, he can also be found making stops at cafes and shops for a much needed drink. Or he can sometimes be found stopping by a fountain or crouching down by a running tap, splashing cool water over his face. Or he can sometimes be found sitting on a bench in the street when he's too overcome by the heat to be able to stay on his feet any longer, broodily staring at the ground or down at his hands.
Anyone is free to stop him, although they may find themselves on the unpleasant receiving end of Severus' very short fuse. One should only approach him at one's own risk.]
[[ooc: Snape will mostly be around Odin district, however feel free to have your character bump into him anywhere, really. Feel free to also have your character bump into Snape post-earthquake on day 367. Prose or action tags are both fine with me! I'll match whatever you reply with. c:]]
What: The aftermath of Mirror Verse
When: Days 365 through to 367-ish (up to and including the earthquake)!
Where: Various places around the city
Rating: PG for now, though there will be some violence at some point.
[Upon returning to the real Asgard, upon realising with sick dread that he's returned without Lily, Severus goes into hiding for the following two days. It's the only thing he can do while war is still waging outside. He's so bone-weary, feels so physically and mentally broken, that he can't face another moment of devastation and destruction and terror. He can't bare to think about Lily still being trapped there, unsafe, lost, her life horribly in danger.
He's failed her. Again. Seems that's the curse he has to live with: always failing the very woman he secretly, desperately, longingly loves with every wretched fibre of his being.
Despite how sore he is, how much he's aching in his muscles and deep in his bones, how heavily lost in a murky depressed fog he is, he throws himself into working on school schedules and doing what he can to organise school matters from the privacy and safety of his own place. It gives him purpose. Gives him focus. And when the explosion of heat suddenly sweeps across the city, Severus is safe enough to have to only duck down with a scramble under his desk, although the heat that settles heavy and oppressive in every nook and cranny is like being trapped inside a burning oven; very soon, he's scrabbling and tearing at his clothes, desperate to get them off and away from his perspiring skin.
In fact, it's the heat itself - and the apparent end of warring giants that's followed in its wake - that prompts Severus to eventually decide to venture out onto the streets. The heat is blazing, hotter than any heatwave he can remember ever hitting Britain; with very few clothes to call his own save those he arrived in Asgard with all those months ago, he has no choice but to don only his black slacks and white shirt, lest he faint from heat exhaustion.
Though he desperately wants to roll his sleeves up, he doesn't - his Mark has faded back to a faint reddish outline, dead and dormant, but he doesn't want to see it, doesn't want anyone else to see it. He'd rather swelter than ever let his shameful Mark see the light of day. His shirt clings wetly to his back with pit stains under his arms; his black hair clings in sweaty strands to the back of his neck while his forehead is bathed with perspiration. His face, however, despite being ruddy with the heat, is pale, withdrawn, pinched with a deeply repressed bitterness that's dangerously simmering beneath the surface.
It's not just the heat that's getting to him - it's the stubbornly unspoken thoughts and even more stubbornly ignored feelings about the previous several days bottling up inside him. Waiting to explode. Like a ticking time-bomb.
He will be found frequenting the Great Library and the school building he's bought, traversing between the two at regular intervals while he moves everything across to his new office. And in between his trips to the library or to the school, he can also be found making stops at cafes and shops for a much needed drink. Or he can sometimes be found stopping by a fountain or crouching down by a running tap, splashing cool water over his face. Or he can sometimes be found sitting on a bench in the street when he's too overcome by the heat to be able to stay on his feet any longer, broodily staring at the ground or down at his hands.
Anyone is free to stop him, although they may find themselves on the unpleasant receiving end of Severus' very short fuse. One should only approach him at one's own risk.]
[[ooc: Snape will mostly be around Odin district, however feel free to have your character bump into him anywhere, really. Feel free to also have your character bump into Snape post-earthquake on day 367. Prose or action tags are both fine with me! I'll match whatever you reply with. c:]]
no subject
Snape may do this, may be able to force him to bend at the knee, but Voldemort does not allow his gaze to move from the man before him. He refuses to divert his eyes, to show deference with every movement he can control. In fact, he smiles something twisted, a smile of hatred up towards the man in front of him.]
Is this what you want, Severus? Me at your feet?
[The smile does not last the sentence. As of now, the only thing he has are his words.]
no subject
That smile, though... Severus has a mind to wipe that smile off Voldemort's face for him. Unclasping his hands from behind his back, Severus raises his arms and crosses them over his chest while peering loftily down at the man on his knees.]
It definitely suits you. Makes you look every bit the pathetic, weak, pitiful swine that you are.
[Severus' lips quirk into a cold and humourless smile.] You know, I wasn't much younger than you when we very first met. You took an instant liking towards me. Did you know that? By the time I was the age you are now, you considered me to be one of your most loyal and cherished followers. I knelt before your feet just as you're kneeling before mine now.
no subject
[His eyes do not move away from Severus's.]
You call me swine, and yet you once swore your very life to me. You are mine, Severus, mine to do with as I see fit. Mine to crumble beneath my fingers and mine to make suffer for your insolence. That is what the Mark indicates; do not think I am ignorant of it. Your existence belongs to me, from your life essence to the flesh upon which it resides. If I am to punish you for your traitorous ways, it is within my right. You committed yourself to me, and then lied to my face.
You lied to me. You ought to know what comes to those who lie to Lord Voldemort.
no subject
Mudblood. That's the part that makes Severus angriest of all.
He grabs him by the jaw, fingers biting sharply into his cheeks, forcing his mouth into a misshapen gape. At the same time, he leans over Voldemort, shoving his head back so Voldemort is forced to look right up at him.]
Don't use that word.
[He lets Voldemort's jaw go with a rough shove. Stands tall again. Glares down at him while imagining Voldemort's body being forced to bend and twist backwards into a painful arch of his spine.]
The Mark means nothing here. You mean nothing.
[Extending his left arm, he grabs his sleeve with his right and yanks it up his arm, revealing a faded red Dark Mark, like an old, eroding tattoo. He focuses his thoughts on making Voldemort's head twist in a painful angle to look right at his arm.]
See? Dead. Useless. Worthless. Just like you.
no subject
You're lying. [He stares at the Mark, pain making his fingers twitch as it longs for escape, to be expressed. And that's when he feels himself regain control over his back, when he straightens back up. He is forced to look at Severus, and do Severus's concentration upon his back has lifted, allowing him to regain a sense of control.] I do not need Legilimency to tell. You are trying to convince yourself of this, Severus, of my own worthlessness because the opposite has never been more true. I am a presence in your life, and it is through your actions that I have become so. Now, you wish to escape my shadow. You wish to live free of me, to convince yourself that I am nothing to you now, when the truth is nothing of the sort.
[He smiles once more, laughter bubbling from him at the humor in the situation. At this point, he begins to stand. A defiant act in and of itself.]
Severus. [He hisses, smiling with hate.] My magic may not touch this realm, but my presence remains. I am here, and I shall remain so. Your little mudblood - [And his face contorts into a bite, as he spits out the word and allows his rage to shine through as he defies Snape's orders, as he stands to defy Snape as a whole.] - being here does not make my presence any less meaningful. In fact, the opposite is true, despite your protesting.
[By this time, he is standing at his full height, a fair amount above six feet, smiling down at the traitor who cost him his life.]
I am so much more than nothing.
no subject
'Your little mudblood'.
Something inside Severus suddenly snaps. As Voldemort rises back to his feet, laughter bubbling from him like bile, Severus' lips twist into a snarl as he dashes a hand up to grab Voldemort by the throat. He grabs his throat hard, fingers digging into the sides of the man's windpipe.]
You reduced yourself to nothing. [He begins forcefully walking Voldemort backwards, pressing his fingers deeper against his throat.] I outsmarted you. Outwitted you. Made you believe that I was a good and faithful servant.
[He slams Voldemort up against the wall.] Your exact words, in fact: 'good and faithful servant'.
no subject
Voldemort raises his hands, not to grab at the hand against his throat but to grab at Severus's. Surely his reach is as long, if not longer, than the professor's. He does not expect it to connect, as it's in truth a diversion: something for Severus's body control powers to focus on while his leg aims for the true target: Snape's crotch.
The Dark Lord is not above playing dirty, it seems.]