InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Captain, My Captain!"

Susan Amelia Bones (susanamybones) wrote in finnigans_rpg,
@ 2015-04-24 22:27:00

Entry tags:

character: dean thomas, character: susan bones

RP: Tête-à-tête
Who: Susan and Dean

What: Having a nice, terrifying chat

Where: Dean's studio

When: Friday morning

Rating: Let's say NSFW for language

Susan walked briskly through the gallery towards Dean's studio, pausing long enough smile and nod at Ophelia and Braith - eliciting a squeak from the former, and a smile and nod from the latter. She reached the door to the studio and squared her shoulders. It was definitely time for them to have a little talk about recent events, also to eat some lasagne that Susan had made the previous night. Ideally, Susan would have preferred that the conversation be conducted under the influence of alcohol, but she was a) respectful enough of Dean to know that would be a tremendously bad idea, and b) attempting to not become an alcoholic, so lasagne was an excellent substitution.

She jerked back from her reverie and knocked on the door, waited a moment, and then entered, trusting that the wards would let her through. She looked around and found Dean painting some decidedly Spanish-looking dancers and staring wistfully at another set of paintings. "Alright handsome," she called genially, shutting the door behind her with her foot. "I come bearing lasagne, good cheer, and the rather delightful knowledge that I can make your ex-girlfriend go paler than a crypt sheet." She moved forward to hug him, then pulled back, with her head tilted. "Also I figure we could have a little tête-à-tête."

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artistdean
2015-05-01 10:07 pm UTC (link)

He snorted at the image of him carrying Susan into battle. "It's all the swimming," he said, flexing his arms jokingly with a bit of an eye roll. "And yes, probably. Me plus you is going to be slower than either of us running alone." He focused on her as she spoke about her colleagues, head tilted in consideration. "I didn't actually, but I know the muggle name was shell shock originally, so it's not surprising." The fact his therapist was a knowledgeable muggle rather than actually wizard made that little difference.

"I like silly things with happyish endings and get bored if it's all romance. And hey, I like Douglas Adams too!" he protested. He was a long way from being a book snob of any sort, and mostly went on recommendations so he could avoid things that triggered him. "You want me to read other things, you've gotta tell me what I might like!"

"Oh, Susan!" he complained. Her metaphors were often colourful, but a visual imagination wasn't very compatible with that particular kind of colour. He shrugged in the end though. "As long as he doesn't bake the stuff himself you're very lucky." Then again Seamus didn't usually need to apologise to him for anything.

He nodded thoughtfully. He could remember a time when he'd sort of thought that his magic was a little scary, but that had rapidly been taken over by wonder and excitement. "Yeah. Although, Circe, that must have been horrible. I'm glad she's okay." He shook his head, amused at the possibility that she might come across him randomly. "Well you might want to remember," he said. "I don't want to shock her."

"Hey, I'm not knocking the awesome house, and I prefer the honesty, but like you say everyone has something that they're uncomfortable with that they still have to live with," he said lightly. The idea of her tying him to a chair was kind of hilarious, but also pretty scary because he had no doubt she'd have done it in an inescapable way and now that he thought about it it might be best to stop thinking about it right away. He shuddered slightly. "Something like that. It didn't taste so bad, just looked pretty suspect. Just be thankful my family taught me to cook!"

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susanamybones
2015-05-02 03:34 pm UTC (link)

"Oh goodness! Your flexing has me all a-quiver," she quipped, with a mock swoon thrown in for good measure. She nodded thoughtfully for a second. "I could have used you the other day. I took down a witch who on top of being a blood supremacist was also a racial supremacist. She would have fainted in terror at the sight of you running at her." She furrowed her brows in confusion for a moment. "Shells as in sea shells? I'm not sure I see the connection?"

"Hmmm... Maybe you should read Dune then. It's by this really famous Muggle science fiction author called Frank Herbert. I devoured all my cousin James' copies of the books one year when we did Muggle Christmas with my mum's family." She quietly ruminated on possible books for several moments. "I'll owl you a list I think? I have most of them in my library - you can just come grab them if you want to read them."

She cackled but let the matter drop. She probably wasn't doing Seamus a great deal of justice - he'd never actually told her to shove her head up her arse, but he had deeply annoyed her in the past, and the look of terror had been the same.

"Mmm," she replied, furrowing her brow again. She wasn't sure that Lucy was alright, not yet anyway. But that was a problem for another day. She gave Dean one of her famous arch brow combos and fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Come now, she'll be fine. A touch of unmitigated terror is lovely and bracing for a young lady. But yes, I'll tell her about you when I get home. Hopefully."

Susan nodded thoughtfully. "Like yams? I hate yams, but I have to live with the fact that yams exist and some people actually like them." She sniffed thoughtfully and then grinned at him. "It's okay though, some of your weirder concoctions seem to stem from those halcyon days, and I'm really rather very fond of them, so I shouldn't be too quick to judge."

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artistdean
2015-05-02 04:46 pm UTC (link)

He poked his tongue out at her and dropped his arms. Not that he was actually dismissive of what all his swimming had done for his physique, but it was far more of a side effect than it was intentional. "Oh, that would have been good. I am pretty thoroughly terrifying on both fronts, even if my father was a wizard, I didn't grow up knowing that." Dean saw her confusion and shook his head. "No, shells as in bombs, I think they were known as shells. First World War thing - Muggle war obviously, lots of shellfire." His history knowledge was pretty thin, whether wizarding or muggle, but some things just managed to seep in.

He nodded in acceptance. "I'm all for book suggestions. I mean I don't know when I'll get around to them, but I'll take a list and come steal, er borrow, the books from you if you've got them." He grinned brightly, knowing she wouldn't actually take the stealing comment the wrong way.

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes. "Don't blame me for whatever happens when we finally come across each other if you don't remember then," he joked. Not that he really thought terror was a great plan, but then again he had PTSD so he was particularly wary.

He was amused as ever. "I don't get what you have against yams, but each to their own," he said diplomatically. He was rather fond of them himself, but he understood that people had different food tastes. "My weirder concoctions also come from sleep deprivation and insomnia, so take your pick of what to blame," he said with a shrug. "Recipes are for try-hards and people who can't actually cook," he said blithely. Not that he totally eschewed recipes, but particularly with non-baking things he took a bit of a fast-and-loose approach.

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susanamybones
2015-05-04 12:37 pm UTC (link)

Susan smiled at him and nodded. She thought he might have been being a little self mocking, but whatever the motivation behind his words, they rung true. "You can be definitely terrifying. Anyone can be with the right stimuli and correct application of the pressure." She blinked for a second, hazily trying to remember stories that her Muggle grandfather had once told her as a child; tales of the World Wars that had been far more devastating than any waged by the wizarding world - testament to the ingenuity of the human mind to bring about chaos and destruction even without any genetically encoded magical proclivity to do so. "I think I remember actually," she replied at last. "The vulgar crowd always is taken by appearances, and the world consists chiefly of the vulgar."

"Capital, I'll write out a hundred or so suggestions for you shall I? Any authors you particularly loathe? I know the one's we've discussed but there could be more?"

She waved a dismissive hand. "She'll be fine I think - just call out to me I imagine. I mean I explained the wards and what have you to her while I keyed her into them. So the fact that you pass the IFF wards should be enough for her," she replied, before pausing and moving her hand in the opposite direction. "I will tell her however, seems the right thing to do."

"Of course you don't," she replied darkly, leaning back to give him a look of mock weariness. "You're one of them." She took a contemplative sip of grape juice, trying to push down the vague desire that it be alcoholic. She looked up and smirked at him. "By which I mean, you're one of those people who like yams. I was too of course, until one too many occasions of having them forced on me by my great grandmother." She choked on her juice and spent several seconds coughing furiously before her airways were suitably unobstructed for her to begin to laugh. "I can cook by feel nearly as well as you dear," she replied after more than a minute of nearly manic laughter. "Though I'd have to say that being precise when baking is always a good idea - afterall, it is science for hungry people."

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artistdean
2015-05-04 03:28 pm UTC (link)

Dean couldn't help but smile at little in response to her assertion. Usually she reminded him that he wasn't so scary, but he knew it was meant with love either way. These days he just generally didn't have a reason to be really scary. He nodded vaguely at her quote, it wasn't one he knew. "Sure," he said, not really wanting to dwell on the point.

He rolled his eyes and summoned a box from the shelf over his sink. "No, nobody I actually loathe, but I prefer not to get into anything too wordy like Dickens, just not my thing," he said. He opened the box, and fished out a chocolate chip and caramel cookie before passing the box over the table. The assortment was a bit mis-matched with some cookies and some biscuits, no more than a couple of each, all ends of batches, several from a while ago kept fresh by the magic on the box. "But less than a hundred would be easier. Or at least do them in sections."

"Well, if you don't tell her I'm laying all the blame on you," he said pointedly. Hopefully when he came across Lucy either she'd have been warned, or at least she wouldn't try and attack him.

He chuckled and shrugged. "Hey, I'll not feed you yams and you don't feed me eels," he said. He'd never been much of a fan of eels (his family believed in making the children try lots of different things) but when he'd been on the run it had been the only think he could get one day and he'd had to give in. He'd vowed to never eat them again. For a good few seconds he was pretty concerned about the sudden choking, but then he realised Susan was laughing and had done something similar to what he had on Monday with Seamus. Still, he was watching her closely. "Better or do you want water?" he offered. "And yes, I follow recipes a lot more for baking than cooking. But even then I've found there's usually a bit of wiggle room. But I approve of food as science for hungry people."

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susanamybones
2015-05-05 05:19 am UTC (link)

"Oh damn," Susan said, snapping her fingers sarcastically. "I was going to suggest you read Herman Melville, Susan Sontag, William Faulkner, and Samuel Beckett. I guess I'll just have to think of some authors who aren't uncomfortably verbose." She looked through the box with interest, finally selecting several moist looking cookies with enough chocolate in them to make even the most hardened health nut go weak at the knees. "I was joking about the hundred books actually," she replied between mouthfuls of salted caramel and chocolate. "I was thinking I'd throw a couple of magical bestsellers at you? Stuff by Libra Traficante, Historia Witz, Michael Buchmann, and Augustus Prolixus even. I'm fairly sure I have all of their books, and if not I'll just have to go and get them, which would be a shame."

"Yes mother, I'll remember," Susan replied, lifting her hands in surrender. "Actually, speaking of mothers, mine's been complaining that she hasn't seen you and Seamus for far too long and that you should come up to Rosethorn with me next time I visit." Changing the subject was probably a good idea, since Susan had a sinking feeling that she probably would indeed, forget to tell Lucy about Dean - especially if her coming week was anything like the last, or the one before that.

She shuddered delicately, both at the thought of eating eels, and for the emphatic reason that Dean had for not liking eels. "That's a deal," she said emphatically. No need to bring anymore trauma to her friend's life - especially since he still had the fresh realisation that he was in love with his best friend to deal with. She continued to wheeze with laughter for several moment, holding up her hand to turn down his offer for water. "Oh I agree. I always put far more chocolate in things than the recipe asks for, but that just sounded so... Very food snobby and I loved it."

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artistdean
2015-05-05 03:29 pm UTC (link)

Dean wrinkled his nose in distaste. "I mean I don't mind a bit of length if they're easy to read but I'll pass on all the wordy stuff thanks." In a way he was sort of the opposite of a book snob and wanted something easy and decently written and relaxing. "Wizarding is good, you know I've not read that much," he said, examining a piece of cookie unnecessarily closely before putting it in his mouth. "And what a shame, buying new books, how sad," he said, sarcasm heavy in his voice.

"Oh, well you know I'm bad at ignoring mothers, apart from sometimes my own," he joked. Not that it was a joke really. Between his Mum and Aunt Rose he'd been taught to have a lot of respect for maternal figures, even though he barely remembered a time before his Dad joined their family. "Just give me a bit of warning and I'll do my best to come along," he said.

Susan's reaction to his apparent food snobbishness made him frown a bit. He certainly hadn't meant it that way, but he supposed it could come off like that. "I'm not sure how you think I'm a food snob when you've seen the combinations I come up with for random leftovers and stray bits," he protested. Leftover Thai curry and couscous wasn't the weirdest thing he'd managed to come up with. None of it tasted bad, just didn't quite fit together really.

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