I briefly knew her caretaker before he vanished, he has a horrendous vocabulary. I'm sure she wouldn't be offended. [ Maybe Severus feels slightly bad for not doing more for Nill yet. But anyway-- ] Gobstones is like a marble game, but the marbles shoot foul-smelling liquid at you if you cock up a move.
[ Feet aren't weird but they are feet. Fortunately hers are covered with socks, even if they do have their own thin layer of dirt clouding the color. ]
To be fair, I do already know one swear word in sign language. [ She promptly flips him the bird. ] Might take the pressure off of teaching me all the rest instead of teaching me things like dog and hello my name is and murder ship.
[ And wow having your foot rubbed even when things don't necessarily hurt but definitely do still feel strained and stretched is kind of awesome. ]
You have the most ridiculous names for games. [ And things in general. Muggles is a dog's name, come on. Meanwhile she's just assuming - ] Flying like on a broom? Or flying like Nathan?
[ Severus raises two fingers. ] Dialect differences.
[ In his time, the American middle finger hasn't quite caught on; with wizards it may never, given the reason it spreads to Europe is popular films. ]
Gobstones is perfectly functional, not unlike 'football'. [ He pronounces the word like he finds it really silly and foreign. Which he does. ] Quidditch is on broomsticks, yes. Its name comes from mashing up the different sorts of balls it uses, quaffles bludgers and snitches.
[ Well that looks silly. Probably raising a single middle finger does, too. Curse words in sign language have to look better than that. Either way, Claire makes a face. ]
Okay, I don't make any excuses for the weird sports names and terms and vocabulary that we've got going on, true. I had spirit, yes, I did; however, scouts honor, at heart I was only ever really there for the cupcakes and bus rides. [ That was an embarrassing sentence, but there's no denying it, even if she is in Cheerleaders Anonymous these days. As for their sports terminology... ] But how are you going to defend a word like quaffle?
[ She isn't laughing but she wants to. It shows. ]
It's the one that gets fumbled and dropped the most. [ He makes a hand motion, miming losing a grip on something and letting it fall away. Quaffle. ] I posit, 'shuttlecock' is far more absurd, and entirely a non-magical invention.
[ Badminton: the sport of kings, or something. ] Honestly I'm not terribly invested in sport. I am obligated to care due to house teams, to the point of having a referee license, and it's such a waste of time.
I said I wasn't making any excuses for weird sports vocabulary! I think shuttlecock is hilarious, though.
[ Now, however, she is imagining him in one of those traditional referee uniforms, all black and white striped, and it's pretty hilarious, too. Quaffle still just sounds like waffle to her. ]
I can't imagine you refereeing something like that. [ Obviously that's a lie. ] What about this snitch character? Does it just fly around the stadium tattling on people?
The snitch is a small golden ball that's very difficult to see, much less catch, [ he explains. ] The game won't end until it's caught. It's worth a lot of points, but if a match has gone on long enough it may not mean a win. Quaffles get thrown through hoops for smaller amounts of points, and is the primary focus of the game. Bludgers exist to try and knock flyers off their brooms.
Bludgers and snitches sound like assholes. [ Still, the game sounds a hell of a lot more interesting than football. And a lot more dangerous. Sounds awesome. She laughs, a little. ] It's amazing you have something like that, and we have curling as an Olympic sport.
Well matches can last weeks, if neither team are any good at catching snitches. [ Spoken wryly. Don't get him started on students caring more about match extensions than homework. ] I don't know how many more sports we'd even have time for.
Weeks? [ Both of her eyebrows jump impressively. ] That sounds like my actual nightmare. You'd think after a week of playing everyone would have had enough and just go home.
[ Speaking of having enough, Claire straightens out her other leg and deposits her other foot across his legs for attention. Now that she's past the initial stage of thinking hey those are my feet, the other one is feeling left out. ]
[ Severus exhales a laugh and switches feet. At least she likes it; he worries about not knowing how to do any of these little things, not knowing what to think of or failing to do something he should. It's nice succeeding in tiny degrees. ]
People go home in between days if it gets on too long, but it's a pain setting enchantments so all the players and balls go back to where they were.
What sport did you cheer for? [ Look at that, remembering how these things work. ]
[ Claire flexes her newly unattended to foot and decides that while it hadn't strictly been necessary, her muscles and bones do feel less strained than they had before. She tries to stay relaxed, leaning one side against the back of the couch. ]
Football, mostly.
[ Her answer is automatic and bordering on a groan that has nothing to do with the associated mock shame she's commonly put out in proximity to her status as a cheerleader. It's all for the game itself. ]
I did some basketball when I was in middle school, but I only ever made the varsity co-captain when I was a junior. I probably would have done basketball but we had to move in November, before the season could start. [ That's putting it mildly. ] Football games don't last for weeks, but it really felt like it, sometimes. It's just a bunch of boys with overinflated egos running around in a lot of padding and helmets, trying to get the ball from one end of the field to the other so they can score and tackle each other a lot on the way.
Well. [ That answer is automatic, but she spends a moment thinking about it before answering. ] I don't know. I don't think any girl ever tried out for our football team, and there's never been a guy on the cheer squad. In general there aren't very many girls who play football. It is considered more of a sport for boys. There are probably more guys who do cheerleading, on the whole. None at my school, though.
[ Because Odessa is in Texas and that would probably still be frowned upon in some way. ]
[ H..uh. Quidditch can be segregated due to people deciding the rough and tumble nature of it is 'unladylike' (something the Slytherin team tends to fall prey to, thanks to old fashioned pureblood mindsets), but it's usually not. There are all female teams that restrict recruitment to all women due to that cultural issue of ladylike nonsense, but there are no teams that restrict recruitment to men only.
It just is what it is. [ Claire shrugs, because this isn't Hayden Panettiere's part in Remember the Titans. ] I've never had any real desire to play football either way, so I guess it never bothered me before. And being a cheerleader was never even really about supporting it. I mean, I wanted it, but not for the reasons I said I did.
[ It was the bus rides and the bake sales and the popularity that came with it, trying to be Jackie and being something that she wasn't in an attempt to cater to the kind of person she thought that she wanted to be. She could make an argument that all of it was what got Jackie killed but it would be a shitty and cruel argument, considering the only thing that got Jackie killed was Claire. ]
When you're younger, I think they make more of an effort to put boys and girls on the same team, and maybe in gym class. But that's not the same thing. It's kind of weird. All this emphasis at a young age and then you grow up and you aren't going to see any of the Dallas Cowboys' cheerleaders suiting up to kick a field goal. [ Blah blah blah. ] Football is odd. Sports are odd. It's all weird.
[ A not too long but still notable silence in which Severus is just rubbing her foot, listening, apparently accepting that explanation of pointless gender inequality in muggle society. (Not that the wizarding world is free of it, not by far, it just seems so much less pronounced.
He's going to change the subject when suddenly-- ] Oh this'd be American football.
[ Okay no no that's fine this makes a bit more sense now. ]
[ Claire just barely laughs and draws her foot away from his grip so that she can more effectively maneuver herself to sit next to him. ]
Was it the accent that gave me away?
[ She lets her knee bump into his leg as she adjusts her position into a more comfortable one, though it's debatable that anything would be more comfortable than getting a foot massage. If she has any further thoughts about the inequality inherent in American sports, she doesn't entertain it. Instead she frees her hands from where they've pressed into the sofa cushions to catch his wrist and draw his hand into her lap. Her thumbs smooth over the lines in his palms, kneading into skin and tendon. She's not going to rub anyone's feet, but she figures he does more with his hands anyway. ]
I can barely keep track of muggle sports in the UK, [ is his mid protest. It's true though. ] I can't be arsed to commit the overseas versions to memory, too.
[ And, aw, that's kind of sweet. Severus is a little bit shy about it because, as ever, he knows his hands are rough and damaged; nicked and stained all over on close inspection, pale and spiderlike anyway.
The bleak subject of sports is probably a good time to fade out into general chat, maybe companionable silence in a pretty Paris atmosphere. After a while, Severus's comms device buzzes, and he takes it out with the intent to set it aside - but it's Charles. And it
says
William is in the brig
for getting drunk and attacking Sirius
oh
Severus starts laughing. It sounds kind of pained. ]
That's not going to stop me from asking more questions about snitches and quaffles.
[ She points out, before falling into relative silence so that she can focus on what she's doing and let her brain decompress a little. Not that her work is particularly testing of her brainpower, but there has been a lot to process in the last few days, and it's relaxing to just sit and not have to follow her brain's trajectory, moving at speeds upwards at several hundred miles per hour. At one point, she rearranges herself again, turning so that she's facing him directly and can give herself more immediate access to what she's doing.
He's right in listing the condition and quality of his palms and fingers, but she's not here to suggest he get a manicure. Both of her thumbs map out the surface area of his knuckles and the web of skin between thumb and forefinger, slip down to push against the heel of his hand, and then fan out over the bones in his wrist and back up again. It's monotonous and quiet, until he starts laughing, at which point she scrunches her eyebrows together and looks up at him, angling her eyes first at his comms device and then up at his profile. ]
[ Claire has to scroll through the messages from top to bottom and back again a couple of times and squint at the screen once. If she had glasses, she would probably adjust them. Good, is the first thing that she thinks, though that would probably not come across too clearly so she goes with something else. ]
I guess getting thrown in the brig for that makes sense. [ She holds his unit out to hand back to him. ] Sirius more than deserved it.
[ There isn't an ounce of her that's saying that just to say it either. Coming across Sirius in the hallway herself, she probably would have at least broken his nose. ]
Black is in prison. [ At home, in the real world. Severus leans back on the sofa and stares at the ceiling - the artificial Parisian sky. One hand still against his forehead, fingers jammed into his hair. ] He'll get out and then be killed. He gets what he deserves.
[ Severus exhales and closes his eyes. He doesn't want this on his behalf, he doesn't want William to risk his position in medical. Yes, true, Sirius deserves to be abandoned on the next rock for the good of the overall population, but not at the risk of anyone else. He's not worth that. ]
I don't even want to think about how this is going to get spun as my fault.
[ The way that Claire looks at it, William made a choice on his own to do what he did, and Severus can want it or not want it, but it doesn't change the fact that it happened, and it doesn't change the weird and warped feeling of satisfaction that settles down with her. It's not a feeling that she likes, but it's there, and it doesn't go away. ]
How could any of this possibly be spun as your fault? [ Her tone is as indignant as it is annoyed. So much for the peaceful calm of foot massages. ] Sirius Black has been here long enough to know better than to mess with something that he finds just painted across a wall that also happens to bear a striking resemblance to you. And William made his own decision to do what he did. I don't think they'll be able to find anyone from medbay who can claim that you were able to persuade the CMO while doped up on pain meds and unconscious to go break a bottle over someone's head for you in the interest of revenge.
[ Claire drags her hand back through her hair. ]
Maybe he gets what he deserves eventually, but that doesn't change the fact that he doesn't get to keep doing stuff to you here without there being consequences.
[ The actual first time that she met Severus, not counting their initial encounter by the lockers post-jump, he'd had blood splattered on his shirt as a result of Sirius Black. She's rapidly approaching a second set of fingers to count the number of times something either terrible or shitty has happened to him as a result of someone else being a prick, and she's getting sick of it. ]
[ Severus just sort of-- raises his hands and shrugs, before lowering his hands again and exhaling a sigh. ]
He's Tyke's darling, but even if he wasn't, he'd never listen to any discipline. He never has, he never will. The only way to make him stop is to put him in prison.
[ Or. Kill him. Ahah. ]
I'm tired of it. [ And how. ] But I don't know any method of sorting it that'd be effective.
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I briefly knew her caretaker before he vanished, he has a horrendous vocabulary. I'm sure she wouldn't be offended. [ Maybe Severus feels slightly bad for not doing more for Nill yet. But anyway-- ] Gobstones is like a marble game, but the marbles shoot foul-smelling liquid at you if you cock up a move.
Quidditch involves flying.
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To be fair, I do already know one swear word in sign language. [ She promptly flips him the bird. ] Might take the pressure off of teaching me all the rest instead of teaching me things like dog and hello my name is and murder ship.
[ And wow having your foot rubbed even when things don't necessarily hurt but definitely do still feel strained and stretched is kind of awesome. ]
You have the most ridiculous names for games. [ And things in general. Muggles is a dog's name, come on. Meanwhile she's just assuming - ] Flying like on a broom? Or flying like Nathan?
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[ In his time, the American middle finger hasn't quite caught on; with wizards it may never, given the reason it spreads to Europe is popular films. ]
Gobstones is perfectly functional, not unlike 'football'. [ He pronounces the word like he finds it really silly and foreign. Which he does. ] Quidditch is on broomsticks, yes. Its name comes from mashing up the different sorts of balls it uses, quaffles bludgers and snitches.
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Okay, I don't make any excuses for the weird sports names and terms and vocabulary that we've got going on, true. I had spirit, yes, I did; however, scouts honor, at heart I was only ever really there for the cupcakes and bus rides. [ That was an embarrassing sentence, but there's no denying it, even if she is in Cheerleaders Anonymous these days. As for their sports terminology... ] But how are you going to defend a word like quaffle?
[ She isn't laughing but she wants to. It shows. ]
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[ Badminton: the sport of kings, or something. ] Honestly I'm not terribly invested in sport. I am obligated to care due to house teams, to the point of having a referee license, and it's such a waste of time.
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[ Now, however, she is imagining him in one of those traditional referee uniforms, all black and white striped, and it's pretty hilarious, too. Quaffle still just sounds like waffle to her. ]
I can't imagine you refereeing something like that. [ Obviously that's a lie. ] What about this snitch character? Does it just fly around the stadium tattling on people?
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[ Wizards. ]
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[ Speaking of having enough, Claire straightens out her other leg and deposits her other foot across his legs for attention. Now that she's past the initial stage of thinking hey those are my feet, the other one is feeling left out. ]
Now look what you started.
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People go home in between days if it gets on too long, but it's a pain setting enchantments so all the players and balls go back to where they were.
What sport did you cheer for? [ Look at that, remembering how these things work. ]
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Football, mostly.
[ Her answer is automatic and bordering on a groan that has nothing to do with the associated mock shame she's commonly put out in proximity to her status as a cheerleader. It's all for the game itself. ]
I did some basketball when I was in middle school, but I only ever made the varsity co-captain when I was a junior. I probably would have done basketball but we had to move in November, before the season could start. [ That's putting it mildly. ] Football games don't last for weeks, but it really felt like it, sometimes. It's just a bunch of boys with overinflated egos running around in a lot of padding and helmets, trying to get the ball from one end of the field to the other so they can score and tackle each other a lot on the way.
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It's gender segregated? Sports and cheerleading?
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[ Because Odessa is in Texas and that would probably still be frowned upon in some way. ]
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So: ]
That's very odd.
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[ It was the bus rides and the bake sales and the popularity that came with it, trying to be Jackie and being something that she wasn't in an attempt to cater to the kind of person she thought that she wanted to be. She could make an argument that all of it was what got Jackie killed but it would be a shitty and cruel argument, considering the only thing that got Jackie killed was Claire. ]
When you're younger, I think they make more of an effort to put boys and girls on the same team, and maybe in gym class. But that's not the same thing. It's kind of weird. All this emphasis at a young age and then you grow up and you aren't going to see any of the Dallas Cowboys' cheerleaders suiting up to kick a field goal. [ Blah blah blah. ] Football is odd. Sports are odd. It's all weird.
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He's going to change the subject when suddenly-- ] Oh this'd be American football.
[ Okay no no that's fine this makes a bit more sense now. ]
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Was it the accent that gave me away?
[ She lets her knee bump into his leg as she adjusts her position into a more comfortable one, though it's debatable that anything would be more comfortable than getting a foot massage. If she has any further thoughts about the inequality inherent in American sports, she doesn't entertain it. Instead she frees her hands from where they've pressed into the sofa cushions to catch his wrist and draw his hand into her lap. Her thumbs smooth over the lines in his palms, kneading into skin and tendon. She's not going to rub anyone's feet, but she figures he does more with his hands anyway. ]
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[ And, aw, that's kind of sweet. Severus is a little bit shy about it because, as ever, he knows his hands are rough and damaged; nicked and stained all over on close inspection, pale and spiderlike anyway.
The bleak subject of sports is probably a good time to fade out into general chat, maybe companionable silence in a pretty Paris atmosphere. After a while, Severus's comms device buzzes, and he takes it out with the intent to set it aside - but it's Charles. And it
says
William is in the brig
for getting drunk and attacking Sirius
oh
Severus starts laughing. It sounds kind of pained. ]
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[ She points out, before falling into relative silence so that she can focus on what she's doing and let her brain decompress a little. Not that her work is particularly testing of her brainpower, but there has been a lot to process in the last few days, and it's relaxing to just sit and not have to follow her brain's trajectory, moving at speeds upwards at several hundred miles per hour. At one point, she rearranges herself again, turning so that she's facing him directly and can give herself more immediate access to what she's doing.
He's right in listing the condition and quality of his palms and fingers, but she's not here to suggest he get a manicure. Both of her thumbs map out the surface area of his knuckles and the web of skin between thumb and forefinger, slip down to push against the heel of his hand, and then fan out over the bones in his wrist and back up again. It's monotonous and quiet, until he starts laughing, at which point she scrunches her eyebrows together and looks up at him, angling her eyes first at his comms device and then up at his profile. ]
What?
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that was handwaved so no linkdisplayed before dragging his hands over his face.W H Y
Muffled, ] What a bloody idiot.
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I guess getting thrown in the brig for that makes sense. [ She holds his unit out to hand back to him. ] Sirius more than deserved it.
[ There isn't an ounce of her that's saying that just to say it either. Coming across Sirius in the hallway herself, she probably would have at least broken his nose. ]
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[ Severus exhales and closes his eyes. He doesn't want this on his behalf, he doesn't want William to risk his position in medical. Yes, true, Sirius deserves to be abandoned on the next rock for the good of the overall population, but not at the risk of anyone else. He's not worth that. ]
I don't even want to think about how this is going to get spun as my fault.
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How could any of this possibly be spun as your fault? [ Her tone is as indignant as it is annoyed. So much for the peaceful calm of foot massages. ] Sirius Black has been here long enough to know better than to mess with something that he finds just painted across a wall that also happens to bear a striking resemblance to you. And William made his own decision to do what he did. I don't think they'll be able to find anyone from medbay who can claim that you were able to persuade the CMO while doped up on pain meds and unconscious to go break a bottle over someone's head for you in the interest of revenge.
[ Claire drags her hand back through her hair. ]
Maybe he gets what he deserves eventually, but that doesn't change the fact that he doesn't get to keep doing stuff to you here without there being consequences.
[ The actual first time that she met Severus, not counting their initial encounter by the lockers post-jump, he'd had blood splattered on his shirt as a result of Sirius Black. She's rapidly approaching a second set of fingers to count the number of times something either terrible or shitty has happened to him as a result of someone else being a prick, and she's getting sick of it. ]
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He's Tyke's darling, but even if he wasn't, he'd never listen to any discipline. He never has, he never will. The only way to make him stop is to put him in prison.
[ Or. Kill him. Ahah. ]
I'm tired of it. [ And how. ] But I don't know any method of sorting it that'd be effective.
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