lemuria_ (lemuria_) wrote in resistrpg, @ 2011-02-02 03:19:00 |
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Entry tags: | !incomplete, character: marlene mckinnon, character: remus lupin, type: thread |
WHO: Remus and Marlene
WHAT: Remus returns home (the new home!)
WHEN: Late Feb. 2, 1980.
RATING: Low
STATUS: Incomplete/Closed.
Remus smelled like wolf. He was certain that was the only way to describe it and he was only certain that there wasn't another human being that was going to want to be around him when he was like this. All Remus wanted to do was go home, however. He knew that he could have stayed a few more hours or he could have stopped at Mungo's to have his arm looked at, but he just wanted to go home and sleep in an actual bed and take a shower (and be able to use a towel when he was done.)
He had been worried at first that he wouldn't be able to get into the new house. However, the wards either hadn't been put up yet or they had already been adjusted so that he would be allowed inside. There was also a third option, and that was that he wasn't in the right house at all, but he had steadfastly ignored that one and had been rewarded with the sight of his own immaculately labelled boxes.
It was late enough that the house was mostly dark; Remus didn't know if Sirius was back yet and he could only hope that Marlene hadn't been forced to stay in the new house by herself for so long. He didn't much like the idea of anyone being on their own. It simply seemed to invite trouble. However, he was also hoping that he wouldn't attract anyone's attention for the time being. He slipped up to the room that had been designated for him and was relieved to see that the bed was made. He practically fell fast down into it and shut his eyes, inhaling deeply. He knew that if he didn't shower first, he was going to have to change the sheets tomorrow, but he was having a hard time working up the motivation to do anything.
It had been a hard moon and he was lucky that he had been able to get home so soon. It was important to find a balance when he was around other wolves; he had to prove that he could transform, could handle it. Which meant staying around for a few hours afterwards. Yet, he'd been so battered that he hadn't dared stay too long because he didn't know how long his strength was actually going to hold this time. He needed rest; as always, his joints felt as if they had been twisted around and hadn't been put back right. He gouges and bruises across his body. Worst was his left arm, which might have been the only thing that actually needed to be looked at. He was quite certain that the two smallest fingers on that hand were broken. There were three deep gashes that curled their way up from his wrist and stopped short of his elbow. They were still bleeding. Remus had tied them up with part of his shirt, but it wasn't doing much to stem the bleeding and he knew they would scar.