Severus Snape (prince_snape) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2014-10-08 19:01:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, neal cassidy (baelfire), severus snape |
Who: Severus Snape and Neal Cassidy
When: Today, this morning ish.
Where: Irvine General
What: A visit and delivery
Rating/Warnings: Low/None (Neal’s in the hospital because he was shot in his dreams.)
Status: Complete when posted
Severus Snape didn’t like hospitals. For the most part, he didn’t go. His children had been born in hospitals, but when he had the option, Sev would rather stay at home than go. He had herbal remedies, potions, and magic itself to heal up almost anything that he may have needed to go to a hospital for. Not that he was ever so seriously injured.
But. Neal. Sev heard that his friend was at the hospital, and he couldn’t just let the man rot there. So he packed a little bag, and headed to visit before work. The kids were with their mother today, so he was on his own. Easier to travel that way, anyway. He ended up in the doorway of Neal’s hospital room, waiting for a nurse to finish… whatever it was she was doing. Fussing over Neal in some way or another. There was a slight look of disgust on Sev’s features while he waited.
The nurse was Doris, one of Neal’s favorites because she brought him pancakes even when it was too late to order from the breakfast menu. Hospital food sucked, of course, and he wouldn’t be here longer than three days (he’d made sure of it...or at least, he was going to hope for that) but already on day two and he felt like getting up and running for the hills. Far, far away from antibiotics and saline drips and gowns that barely closed in the back. But to pass the time he’d read, watch bad television, and make jokes with the nurses and charm them with his wit - he was pretty sure he even got the grumpy doctor to half-smile or twitch when he last came by, so that was fun.
“See you later, Doris,” he said to the matronly lady, Head Nurse, who left the room after she was done checking vitals and fluffing pillows. Then Neal waved in sour-faced Sev. “Hey, it’s okay, a dream gunshot wound’s not contagious,” he quipped, in decent spirits despite recent events. Tink came by occasionally, in and out. She didn’t feel the need to live in his room (since she had a life and all), and it wasn’t like Neal cared about visitors seeing him as ‘weak.’ It was OC bullshit, it happened sometimes.
Severus slinked into the room once he was invited. “...one would hope,” he responded. Though, as far as Orange County weirdness went, that honestly wouldn’t surprise him. “How are you feeling?” He managed to ask, moving in even further and setting his bag down on the bed by Neal’s feet. He’d empty its contents--all presents and things for Neal’s recovery--in a few minutes. Once the obligatory small talk portion of the visit was over.
“Pretty good. Never been shot before though. It’s like your bones rattle inside your body and it takes a minute to get it all situated again,” he replied. That was the best way he could think of to describe it. Oh, and the ring of burning flesh that was the actual wound and hurt like a bitch. Neal could practically still smell it singed from here, but painkillers were wonderful things.
He had the blanket on over his feet, toes wiggling beneath the surface when Sev set down the goodies, whatever they were. Poor guy looked really uncomfortable so Neal wouldn’t make him stay long. “You can pull up a chair if you want,” he offered. “How are things in the chemistry world?”
“Sure.” Sev pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down in it. But it was very low compared to the height of the bed. He had to look up to see Neal. That was irritating. He moved the chair closer to the foot of the bed so he wouldn’t have to strain his neck. “It’s… the same. I’ve been working on replicating the pixie dust that you gave me--” not chemistry related, but relevant nonetheless--”and I’ve been having trouble with it. Whenever I amplify the quantities, it loses some of the magical qualities. I’m tweaking my charm, though, so that I can create more dust for Tink.”
The idea of creating more dust for Tink was nice, it made Neal grin in that charming, crooked way. He shoved the pillows a bit more behind him and sat up, wiggling so he had support for his back. Really difficult to get comfortable in one of these beds, but he made do. “Hey, that’d be awesome,” he said. “I guess you never can tell when you’re going to need a handful of that stuff.”
Being that it...did the things it did. Flight and glowing, or whatever else Sev had mentioned. “And how are the kiddos?” he wanted to know. Neal liked babysitting them, and Daisy was always in cheerful spirits. She seemed to still be doing well enough with going back and forth to her mom and dad’s, depending. That was one positive point, at least.
“It has quite a few uses. More than I’d known before. It seems as if it can be charmed--programmed--to release a hex, curse or charm later on. I’m still experimenting.” Severus shifted on the bed, then brightened a little and reached for the bag.
“That’s right. She sent this along.” Severus opened the bag and pulled out a Dora the Explorer doll. He held it out to Neal. “Daisy wishes you the best, and wants you to get well soon. She drew you a picture, but the paint was still wet. I’ll get it to you when you go home.”
“Pixie dust can hex people?” Neal had to laugh at that. It seemed so backward. Wasn’t it supposed to bring smiles and giggles and rainbow bursts of happiness? Maybe that was just in his dreamworld. “And what’s the difference between a curse and a hex?” he asked, since these were important questions to know the answers to.
Then he nearly melted into a puddle of mush when he was handed the prized doll. So cute. It must have healing properties, or the little girl didn’t want him to be lonely all by himself in the hospital that smelled funny. “Tell her thanks,” he chuckled, setting Dora on the table beside him, sitting her up there so she’d also greet the nurses when they came in. “I’ll put the picture on my fridge too, when I get it. It’s been looking kind of bare lately.” A lack of Daisy artwork, but she’d fix that no problem.
"It's more like a delayed version of a spell. It's difficult to explain, but yes. I believe that this dust can be charged with magic to release at a later time. Though, the length of time is rather limited, and I'm still experimenting with the what, how and why." Severus explained. "...there are three general descriptions of dark magic. The first is the least powerful. A jinx. Irritating, but often amusing. Mostly used for minor inconveniences and practical jokes. The second, a hex, a consistent, negative affect on the object of the hex. Major inconvenience, but not the worst. Curses are the final category, and contain the worst kinds of dark magic."
Severus nodded, proudly. "I will tell her. I have other things in here for you," he added, and pushed the bag forward so that Neal could reach it. Inside was a new iPad--Money meant almost nothing to a Wizard who could magically replicate food and clothing--a couple of bottles of CocaCola, some miscellaneous snack foods (the kind he picked up at the gas station), a paperback novel, The Magicians by Lev Grossman, and a deck of playing cards.
Well, Neal understood dark magic, at least. Understood it all too well. He opened his mouth and then closed it abruptly, however - because he had just received a brand new iPad. A new one. He never even had an old one before. This was officially his first iPad, and he was sort of bowled over. “Wow, shit...Sev...” he gulped, because it was a lot of money to him, and he wasn’t used to being given gifts like that. “Thank you, wow. I don’t even know how to make it up to you but I’ll try.”
Carefully, he opened the bottle of Coke to let it hiss and fizz, then took a long drink from it. Ahh, sugar and carbs. Delicious. He’d also attack the bad-for-you snack foods (were those Cheez Its? Hell yeah) as soon as possible here. “Oh, and I’ll let Tink know what you said. About the pixie dust,” he added. “I’m not sure where she is in her dreams now since she gets them so randomly but she might have more info too.”
“I’ll exchange it for babysitting,” Severus said, though he wasn’t exactly holding Neal to anything. It was a gift. Let him be generous. Severus Snape had a total of four friends; Newt Geizler, Regulus Black, Damon Salvatore, and Neal Cassidy. He didn’t need money for food or for travel, and his job had just given him a ridiculous raise with a bonus. So, he was pleased to be able to share the wealth.
He nodded. “Please, tell her. If she has more information, I would be pleased to hear that as well. And when you figure out how to put programs on that thing,” he motioned to the iPad, “you’ll have to play something with Daisy. She was with me in the store when I purchased it, and wanted nothing more than to get her little fingers all over the screen.”
“Sure thing, babysitting it is,” Neal smiled warmly, and he was always glad to be a nanny for whenever Sev needed to get some work done or have some time to himself. “So funny that she already knows how to use an iPad. Remember when we were kids? None of that happening.” He sounded old, didn’t he. But that was just the way it had been, back in the day. Especially growing up like he did, in the dregs of smoky, crime-ridden Detroit.
Another sip of the soda was taken, and he ripped into the Cheez Its to balance them and his carbonated beverage on the moveable tray he had attached to his bed. “You wanna play cards?” he asked, since he had a pack of them now. “Or do hospitals creep you out too much?” Neal understood that. He wasn’t really a fan of them either.
Sev chuckled softly. "There was no such thing as a touch screen. That was straight out of Star Trek." Something his drunk father would put on the television while giving Severus both physical and emotional beatings. Severus was probably a few years older than Neal, but not by much. They'd led very different lives. "Things are going to be so different for our children. They'll never know what a rotary phone is, or a typewriter."
Severus glanced at the door, then back again. "I could stay for a game. What do you like to play?"
In Neal’s dream apartment, he had all sorts of vintage things. Telephones, radios, even a record player - with an impressive collection of vinyls, of course. He seemed to prefer the old-fashioned over everything insanely modern. But it was true. Rotary phones would be a thing of the long-gone past for this generation. “Seriously,” he laughed, a quiet one, so as not to jostle anything too much and make it painful. “Well, let’s see. Henry loves Go Fish. But I think we can handle Blackjack, if you feel up to it?”
He took the deck of cards, and began shuffling. Not that he was a shark at these sorts of things, but he did spend a lot of time with a criminal stepfather. There were lots of games of poker. And that was why he still disliked the game today. After one had gone wrong, he’d been left on the side of the road. The drunk ‘adult’ couldn’t handle the loss, or something, but Neal had paid dearly for it.
Severus and his ex wife used to play things like Gin. They weren’t exactly the gambling type. And now that Severus had his magic, he could pretty much rig any game he wanted to. Cards could be charmed. In fact, he’d known a bunch of kids at Hogwarts who would go home over summer and winter hols and do just that. Scam muggle money out of the nearby kids by using rigged decks. He was never one of them. The Dream Severus Snape spent as little time with other people as possible.
“Remind me of the rules?” He said as Neal dealt the cards. “One face down, one face up… and then I either ask for another card or I stay with what I have? The goal is to make it to twenty-one points…” Severus asked, reminding himself more than actually asking.
“Yep,” Neal chuckled, because it sounded like Sev remembered the rules just fine. “Think you pretty much got it there.” But right now they didn’t need to place any bets or anything. He just dealt the cards efficiently for a friendly game to pass the time. Not like he was going anywhere for awhile; stuck in a hospital bed so healing could ensue because the OC came at him. Well. It happened sometimes. He’d just continue to roll with the punches as best as he could; seemed like that was really the best medicine anyway.