[ She knows what that move means before she even makes it but follows through on it anyway, running her palms the length of her shin bones. There are things she's accepted as being part of who he is and things that she is equally not ready to accept as being part of who she is. They are who they are, and they've done what they've done, and that's not going to change. But she sat through that conversation in this same spot, so to speak, and when it was all over and done with, how she felt hadn't changed either. So what does that say?
She doesn't know, and it doesn't matter. ]
I think I just like Diablo better. Is that terrible? It's like saying you like one of your kids better than the other. Though Izzie's technically the mom, I guess. She just looks like she wants to roll over on both of them half the time. Like ahhh, what have I created, etc.
[ Moreover, she feels more of an attachment to him given he's the one that she actually named, that he named, if she's being precise. Tug is the bigger asshole of the two, and with what she has in mind for Diablo, that kind of a personality isn't going to work as well in her favor. Claire is also aware that she's trying to overcompensate a little for the silence, so that's kind of embarrassing. ]
[ There's a lot to reflect on. Maybe. Severus has done this subject to death over the course of his life and it feels hollow, but he still can't change his mind about it. ]
I think he likes you better. [ Compared to Izzie who's probably still sad without both Petrellis, and Tug who at least got a name. Maybe Diablo just didn't have anyone who decided he was theirs, until now; Peter had been off in whateverland with That Guy Claire Hates, anyway. Who knows. Severus thinks about all the familiars that crawl all over Hogwarts - it's not really the same. ]
[ Claire turns to look at them, half-expecting them to come bounding toward them at the mention of their name. They're all lounging now, less like little dark bullets of destruction shooting off in directions she can't manage and more like floppy sacks of potatoes. At least they'll be worn out for a couple of hours.
She follows suit and leans back until she's able to flop down on the grass, staring above her and folding her hands over her stomach. ]
I suppose it's especially unfair them. [ This place. Their owners vanishing and leaving them. Do the animals ever vanish at jumps? He doesn't think so. He's pretty sure they don't have nanites, either, which is odd. ] I feel worse for the kids, though.
[ A beat. Severus exhales in what's almost a groan and pinches the bridge of his nose. Did he really just say that? ]
[ Maybe there's some investigation that should be done into that subject. Or maybe it's as simple as whatever it is powering this environment isn't interested in anything that isn't technically human. Claire hasn't really stopped to think about it. Now, she rolls her head to the side, getting a decent look at the soles of his shoes as she squints at him. Finally, a grin breaks out across her face and raises her eyebrows. ]
You feel worse for the kids. [ Her gaze turns skyward again - well, sort of - and she makes an uh huh sound behind her teeth. ] I see.
[ It's alright, Severus, she's not going to tell anyone that there is a small potential speck of warmth for children in your cold, dead heart. She makes zero attempt to hide her expression, an expression that somehow seems out of place given the subject matter but alas. ]
Well, I don't know how much I believe in someone zipping around with their underwear over their pants, but I agree. [ She glances over in the direction of the dogs, not quite managing to fit them into the scope of her vision and not really interested in craning her neck that far. ] Maybe they could use some puppy time.
I've no idea. [ Pity is not warmth. ] I rarely branch outside discipline and order. A young woman in the communications department is a primary school teacher, I think. She seemed a bit put off by me.
[ If Claire hasn't figured out he's everyone's least favorite teacher yet, well.. ]
I don't think you'd be anyone's choice to teach K through five, no offense. [ Maybe somewhere between their initial meeting and that story about the eleven-year-old who wet himself, she put together a thing or two. ] I don't think I've ever seen many of them outside of the jump. What's Nill like?
[ Saying that aloud makes her feel sort of disappointed in herself. She actually does really like kids, after all. ]
[ Severus hates coddling children. It's pointless. Life is hard and horrible, and besides, everyone but him is going to try and be nice to them anyway. They should have to get a bit of reality somewhere. Maybe worse than reality; it's not fair that his childhood was as bad as it was and most everyone else got on tolerably. No one ever helped him. ]
She's fine. [ Maybe. She seemed to have broken down a little when her friend left, but recovered without knowingly letting him see any cracks. He can respect that kind of repression. ] She's mute, we've been working on sign language.
[ No better place to get reality than on a giant murder ship. Claire will always sympathize with the desire to shelter who and what she can from the atrocities that are out there but there's a loud part of her consciousness that acknowledges the idea that it's better to be prepared than not, even if it means you come out jaded. Or just... aware of how the world works. Does she wish that she never had to experience any of the shit that she has? Absolutely. She'd wish that for anyone. But she'd never take it back, either. It's a fine line. ]
How does that work? [ By no means does she know or understand sign language - outside of knowing how to spell her name thanks to a ninth grade indulgence in the topic - but she has a working knowledge that it's not universal. ] Is she British?
[ It's possible. It's also just as possible that she is, like... Malvanian or something else that she's never heard of or will ever hear of outside of this ship. ]
No. I'm not sure where she's from, she hadn't heard of sign language before at all. [ .. And she has wings. For some reason. ] I was never perfectly fluent, we're having to invent quite a bit. It's being recorded, though, I thought about bothering Osborn and his cohort to see if putting lessons on the communicators would be feasible.
[ For Nill to be able to communicate with it, other people have to be able to understand her, after all. ]
That's actually a really good idea. [ All of it, really, including bothering Osborn into writing some kind of program to facilitate what Severus is suggesting. It's a good idea, and it's also quite kind of him to try at any rate, but Claire isn't going to bring that up. ] If he and his friend can figure out how to write something that allows the devices to play music, I'm sure they can come up with something that's more instructive. You might have to bribe them, though.
[ Or not, if what Peter said was true and Harry really is nicer than he tries to let on. The verdict's out on that one, though, and Claire has only spoken to the pair of them three times collectively. ]
I only ever learned how to do my name. [ Which she balances her elbow on the grass for and does with sloppy accuracy. ] I think I can remember thank you, but it wasn't really a lesson. Why do you learn it to begin with?
[ Severus feels detached from the subject, but it's better than the tense almost-fighting of a few minutes ago. He's not actually passionate about teaching, but he feels quite a bit about education. It's awkward, sometimes, the imbalance of how he operates concerning it. ]
As I've said before, I'm in charge of a hundred students. [ He leans forward on his elbows, hands moving, echoing his verbal words. ] There are more effective magical aids, but they're extremely difficult for children to use, and they can't be used in the outside world.
[ She finds it interesting in an abstract sort of way; the same way in which she still finds little transfigured things incredible and the details of his world's history something she wants to know about despite how bleak it's been. ]
I'd almost expect them - [ Whoever they are. ] - to have something that would make that easier here, on the ship. The technology that we do have is advanced enough. [ She chews her lip in brief thought. ] Would they interfere with outside technology? Aids from your world, I mean.
[ Severus agrees, only partially because he doesn't think he knows what an eyepod is. Magic, to him, is the pinnacle; he's proud of it, and here, he's been very defensive of it, too.
(Should it be sad, that someone who loves magic like he does won't ever love him? He doesn't let himself think about it.) ]
I've only used sign language briefly, teaching. I've not kept up with it well.
[ Sitting up the rest of the way, Claire pushes her hair back behind her ears and rolls her sleeves back up. She folds her legs and straightens her back. ]
Teach me something.
[ It isn't magic, but she thinks she can get behind it. ]
[ Severus if that is going to be your reaction every time you say these things then why do you say them? Not that she's complaining, but her hand does drop down to her knee, making a dull slapping sound, and she kind of cocks her head at him and -
Fuck it.
She is reasonably certain that he's not going to startle and that it's not going to be unwelcome, but an electric shock of doubt does jolt her as she leans her palm into the grass for balance and tilts forward onto her knees in a fluid motion. They're sitting close enough that she doesn't have to rise up to kiss him, so she just does it before she can talk herself out of it. It's chaste, brief, more at the corner of his mouth given the angle she comes in at and the fact that her hand in the grass where it's attached to her wrist kind of feels like putty but it's been long enough coming that she's pleased with her decision to have done it even if she's half-expecting it to backfire. ]
[ Severus doesn't startle. Stupidly, he feels like time slows down when she moves closer to him, because part of his brain registers what she's doing and what her aim is and-- it doesn't compute. Despite everything.
He stills, almost freezes, but doesn't completely lock up. He has to take a moment after she moves back to look at her, too-close and out of focus, as though he's deciding whether or not this is actually happening.
Like muscle memory. Severus has never dated anyone but he's kissed people, his sexuality hedged and highlighted in strange places, leaving him awkward more about sincere emotions than anything else. (The anger with which he shoved William away is something entirely different, and not at all present in his mind.) He moves a little, slightly forward, and presses his mouth against hers. Again. ]
[ There was this moment in her dorm room, after Gretchen had kissed her, where she had lingered in the gap of a heartbeat with her mouth hanging open and her stomach somewhere down around her shoes, and it had seemed like hours spent not having any conception of what to do or how to react. Everything even remotely resembling that offer up until that point - and then again beyond it - had been a disaster, and it's impossible to grab onto the corner of one thought when your head is moving that quickly.
The benefit of having that experience is that encountering it for a second time in a year's span means that the reaction time doesn't crawl to a relative hour or two. She doesn't know what to do but she does because she's already made the decision a long time ago that if she wanted to do something even for the sake of just doing it in this capacity then she was going to.
Her muscle memory is not as practiced. She's never been particularly comfortable with intimacy, no matter how chaste, but Claire has already acknowledged the fact without giving it a name that she kind of likes him a lot, so what she lacks in experience she's more than willing to make up for in enthusiasm. Of course, enthusiasm for her, here, is tentative; it's the extension of her hand to catch his shirt sleeve and curl her fingers there, walking out onto a bridge carefully to test that it won't break. Maybe it will. She doesn't know. She tries not to think and just makes a small sound, something like relief.
This tension is decidedly much better than what had been here previously.
[ He holds still while she moves, shifting after she does so that he can reach out to press one palm against her side. Supportive, but also very gentle-- he doesn't want to seem uncertain, just not rushed. Severus isn't going to yank her closer or anything, but he's not going to run away if she wants to move.
It's surreal. Severus feels like it's incongruous with them nearly arguing; it's not like any other experience, with that negative energy being what he was meant to feed off of. Is she instead telling him that it's fine, it's not a deal-breaker every time something happens? He's not used to it. That moves him more than anything, more than her kissing him. He nudges closer, movements soft. ]
[ Her propensity for smoothing things over probably stems from listening to her parents scream at each other about her, as their marriage dissolved, but she doesn't think that has anything to do with kissing him. Claire knows that things don't ever go away, that you just table them for another time, but she also knows there are more important things than letting the bad kind of tension win. She's had her reluctance - because of the divorce, because of her ability, because of her everything on a list of everythings - but it's irrelevant, and she isn't surprised to find that the touch at her waist is warm.
Eventually she needs to come up for air, which is a slow process not least of all because she's always hated this part. You stand there with a swollen mouth and pink cheeks and your eyes bright and huge and dilated and you're supposed to have something really good to say. This time she's resolute in her decision not to sit there gulping at the air like a fish. Her break away is not immediate: she lets her hand fall down to his elbow, thumb pressing into the crook, before she pulls back. Involuntarily, she presses her lips together and then looks at him as directly as she can. ]
You were never gonna do it.
[ She has to smile then because what could she possibly say that would be a worse choice than that? ]
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She doesn't know, and it doesn't matter. ]
I think I just like Diablo better. Is that terrible? It's like saying you like one of your kids better than the other. Though Izzie's technically the mom, I guess. She just looks like she wants to roll over on both of them half the time. Like ahhh, what have I created, etc.
[ Moreover, she feels more of an attachment to him given he's the one that she actually named, that he named, if she's being precise. Tug is the bigger asshole of the two, and with what she has in mind for Diablo, that kind of a personality isn't going to work as well in her favor. Claire is also aware that she's trying to overcompensate a little for the silence, so that's kind of embarrassing. ]
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I think he likes you better. [ Compared to Izzie who's probably still sad without both Petrellis, and Tug who at least got a name. Maybe Diablo just didn't have anyone who decided he was theirs, until now; Peter had been off in whateverland with That Guy Claire Hates, anyway. Who knows. Severus thinks about all the familiars that crawl all over Hogwarts - it's not really the same. ]
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[ Claire turns to look at them, half-expecting them to come bounding toward them at the mention of their name. They're all lounging now, less like little dark bullets of destruction shooting off in directions she can't manage and more like floppy sacks of potatoes. At least they'll be worn out for a couple of hours.
She follows suit and leans back until she's able to flop down on the grass, staring above her and folding her hands over her stomach. ]
Hopefully Izzie will come around soon.
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[ A beat. Severus exhales in what's almost a groan and pinches the bridge of his nose. Did he really just say that? ]
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You feel worse for the kids. [ Her gaze turns skyward again - well, sort of - and she makes an uh huh sound behind her teeth. ] I see.
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[ Yes that's all ground out awkwardly. Look SHUT UP HE DOESN'T HAVE FEELINGS you can't make him. ]
There's one who insists he fights crime in a costume, that one can bugger off and be fine.
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Well, I don't know how much I believe in someone zipping around with their underwear over their pants, but I agree. [ She glances over in the direction of the dogs, not quite managing to fit them into the scope of her vision and not really interested in craning her neck that far. ] Maybe they could use some puppy time.
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[ If Claire hasn't figured out he's everyone's least favorite teacher yet, well.. ]
The only one I ever see is Nill.
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I don't think you'd be anyone's choice to teach K through five, no offense. [ Maybe somewhere between their initial meeting and that story about the eleven-year-old who wet himself, she put together a thing or two. ] I don't think I've ever seen many of them outside of the jump. What's Nill like?
[ Saying that aloud makes her feel sort of disappointed in herself. She actually does really like kids, after all. ]
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She's fine. [ Maybe. She seemed to have broken down a little when her friend left, but recovered without knowingly letting him see any cracks. He can respect that kind of repression. ] She's mute, we've been working on sign language.
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How does that work? [ By no means does she know or understand sign language - outside of knowing how to spell her name thanks to a ninth grade indulgence in the topic - but she has a working knowledge that it's not universal. ] Is she British?
[ It's possible. It's also just as possible that she is, like... Malvanian or something else that she's never heard of or will ever hear of outside of this ship. ]
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[ For Nill to be able to communicate with it, other people have to be able to understand her, after all. ]
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[ Or not, if what Peter said was true and Harry really is nicer than he tries to let on. The verdict's out on that one, though, and Claire has only spoken to the pair of them three times collectively. ]
I only ever learned how to do my name. [ Which she balances her elbow on the grass for and does with sloppy accuracy. ] I think I can remember thank you, but it wasn't really a lesson. Why do you learn it to begin with?
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As I've said before, I'm in charge of a hundred students. [ He leans forward on his elbows, hands moving, echoing his verbal words. ] There are more effective magical aids, but they're extremely difficult for children to use, and they can't be used in the outside world.
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I'd almost expect them - [ Whoever they are. ] - to have something that would make that easier here, on the ship. The technology that we do have is advanced enough. [ She chews her lip in brief thought. ] Would they interfere with outside technology? Aids from your world, I mean.
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It's not as much interference as it is obviousness. Magic doesn't exist, remember?
Severus shoos the words away after a moment. ]
I don't know how all technology reacts with all magic. I try to avoid it.
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I would much rather be able to do that than charge my iPod.
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(Should it be sad, that someone who loves magic like he does won't ever love him? He doesn't let himself think about it.) ]
I've only used sign language briefly, teaching. I've not kept up with it well.
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Teach me something.
[ It isn't magic, but she thinks she can get behind it. ]
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Hello. Goodbye. Shut up.
[ Helpful. ]
Pretty.
[ Wow and now Severus looks like he might die a little. ]
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Fuck it.
She is reasonably certain that he's not going to startle and that it's not going to be unwelcome, but an electric shock of doubt does jolt her as she leans her palm into the grass for balance and tilts forward onto her knees in a fluid motion. They're sitting close enough that she doesn't have to rise up to kiss him, so she just does it before she can talk herself out of it. It's chaste, brief, more at the corner of his mouth given the angle she comes in at and the fact that her hand in the grass where it's attached to her wrist kind of feels like putty but it's been long enough coming that she's pleased with her decision to have done it even if she's half-expecting it to backfire. ]
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He stills, almost freezes, but doesn't completely lock up. He has to take a moment after she moves back to look at her, too-close and out of focus, as though he's deciding whether or not this is actually happening.
Like muscle memory. Severus has never dated anyone but he's kissed people, his sexuality hedged and highlighted in strange places, leaving him awkward more about sincere emotions than anything else. (The anger with which he shoved William away is something entirely different, and not at all present in his mind.) He moves a little, slightly forward, and presses his mouth against hers. Again. ]
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The benefit of having that experience is that encountering it for a second time in a year's span means that the reaction time doesn't crawl to a relative hour or two. She doesn't know what to do but she does because she's already made the decision a long time ago that if she wanted to do something even for the sake of just doing it in this capacity then she was going to.
Her muscle memory is not as practiced. She's never been particularly comfortable with intimacy, no matter how chaste, but Claire has already acknowledged the fact without giving it a name that she kind of likes him a lot, so what she lacks in experience she's more than willing to make up for in enthusiasm. Of course, enthusiasm for her, here, is tentative; it's the extension of her hand to catch his shirt sleeve and curl her fingers there, walking out onto a bridge carefully to test that it won't break. Maybe it will. She doesn't know. She tries not to think and just makes a small sound, something like relief.
This tension is decidedly much better than what had been here previously.
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It's surreal. Severus feels like it's incongruous with them nearly arguing; it's not like any other experience, with that negative energy being what he was meant to feed off of. Is she instead telling him that it's fine, it's not a deal-breaker every time something happens? He's not used to it. That moves him more than anything, more than her kissing him. He nudges closer, movements soft. ]
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Eventually she needs to come up for air, which is a slow process not least of all because she's always hated this part. You stand there with a swollen mouth and pink cheeks and your eyes bright and huge and dilated and you're supposed to have something really good to say. This time she's resolute in her decision not to sit there gulping at the air like a fish. Her break away is not immediate: she lets her hand fall down to his elbow, thumb pressing into the crook, before she pulls back. Involuntarily, she presses her lips together and then looks at him as directly as she can. ]
You were never gonna do it.
[ She has to smile then because what could she possibly say that would be a worse choice than that? ]
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