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tampered2007-01-12 01:19 am
tiaxdalma.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-01-12 01:19 am
Log: Finished, Apparently.
When; Presently.
Rating; Unknown.
Characters; Tia, Snape, Joseph.
Summary; Fixing the puddle of goo.
Log;
It was rare that Tia ventured out on her own in the City - not from fear, but simply from the lack of desire. She found it, at most, a passing amusement. Though she'd not seen a man turned into a shapeless black substance before, and found it vaguely interesting. She decided she wanted to see what it was all about, though whether or not she could do anything about it, she rightly did not know.
Not long after the gypsy queen set out, she found her destination, a building not unlike the others about the City. She did not make for the cursed room, deciding instead to call upon the wizard she'd seen about - though on which of his trips to the City, she could not be bothered to recall. She knocked lightly on his door, awaiting a response.
Rating; Unknown.
Characters; Tia, Snape, Joseph.
Summary; Fixing the puddle of goo.
Log;
It was rare that Tia ventured out on her own in the City - not from fear, but simply from the lack of desire. She found it, at most, a passing amusement. Though she'd not seen a man turned into a shapeless black substance before, and found it vaguely interesting. She decided she wanted to see what it was all about, though whether or not she could do anything about it, she rightly did not know.
Not long after the gypsy queen set out, she found her destination, a building not unlike the others about the City. She did not make for the cursed room, deciding instead to call upon the wizard she'd seen about - though on which of his trips to the City, she could not be bothered to recall. She knocked lightly on his door, awaiting a response.
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His default expression tended to be one of suspicion, even anger; years of dealing with willful and ponderously stupid students had taken a toll on any friendliness he possessed.
However, in the presence of other adults and in fact, fellow witches and wizards, Snape was entirely other. Polite. A bit stuffily British, perhaps, and even somewhat shy. He hadn't had much opportunity in his line of work to socialize.
"Ms.Dalma. Come in if you like. I'd just put up a kettle. Would you care for a spot of tea? I have an interesting selection." Other than anyone his present roommate, Jowy Atreides, brought in Severus had few visitors.
It was unfortunate, because in spite of things he liked to entertain.
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Tia found Severus to be quite the gentleman. Her aesthetics tended to terrify even the most strong willed of men, though those tended to not be the sort she had interest in. No, the ones who were drawn to her were those that destiny touched. "You be from the Isles, then. Britain, or thereabouts," she said, strolling into his quarters and taking a look about the place. "Be this your first visit to this place?"
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It's rather strange... I arrived here because I'd received a letter that claimed to be from my future self. It warned me not to come to a certain location, lest I become lost in the City, and have befall upon me the very fate I am apparently now playing out?
I spoke with Ms.Hammond, who had known me before, and managed to find a few students from the school in Scotland where I had been teaching. They...told me some rather alarming things about what I was going to do in the future..." ((as the second person playing Snape, I decided to set him back to around the events in the first book, instead've after HBP. You can see where this confuses the new? old? Snape, somewhat...))
He began to rummage through an already well stocked cupboard.
Ms.Dalma, no doubt, would recognise any number of the more unusual ingredients Snape kept in his home.
And probably the mundane ones as well.
He brought out a basket full of teabags.
"As you can see, I've quite the selection." He noted and then, realizing the fire under the kettle had gone out, glowered at it. He pulled his wand from his sleeve, and set it going again with a few well aimed sparks.
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There was a drop of black goo on the table. The ceiling had begun to grow a blackened patch, as though crude oil were soaking through the floor above. Once the patch had reached two feet in diameter, the body from the shoulders up of a bald man wearing a button down shirt silently lowered through the ceiling, covered in the tar like fluid and dripping slowly himself.
"YOU CAME. I AM GLAD. SNAPE. I APOLOGIZE. FOR DROPPING. IN LIKE THIS. AGAIN. IT IS A PLEASURE. TO MEET YOU. TIA. THANK YOU. FOR COMING."
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She began to say something else when she heard the first drip, and turned, one eyebrow arching, then looking to the ceiling at their visitor. "Of course," he said, sounding more amused than anything. "Tell me, you able to move from the ceiling, to one free mass, or you connected physically to that hell-room?" She moved the fingers of one hand, almost idly, as if pondering something with some measure of intensity, though not speaking any of it.
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"I AM CONNECTED TO. THE ROOM IT WOULD SEEM. EVER SINCE SNAPE. OPENED THE DOOR. I WAS ABLE TO DRIP. THROUGH HIS CEILING. BUT THAT WAS BECAUSE IT WAS. PART OF ROOM 302. IT IS. JUST AROUND. WHERE I DIED. I BELIEVE."
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This was hardly the first time the professor had dealt with ghosts, however usually the Bloody Baron and his like were a bit less...messy in their manifestations.
"Yes. As you can guess, Ms.Dalma, this is our guest of honour.
Apparently this room above has some sort of connection to the previous room 302, located in or around this 'Silent Hill' place?
I don't know if you have been keeping up with the news- believe me, these computer things were as much a mystery to me at first as any Muggle appliance- but it's been quite the buzz on the network.
There is a cult originating from the same area as our Mr.Schrieber. They are behind the attacks perpetuated by the large man in the triangular helmet who posts his conquests under the name redhorror (http://redhorror.livejournal.com).
I'm not certain, but one of the other members lived in the room above prior? And left some sort of residual magic, I'd presume. Or this haunt followed him and has only just come to consciousness once more. Anyway. I've little experience in necromancy, so I'll leave it to you.
I shall prepare the tea.
Did you have a choice what kind?"
Severus gathered up his tea service, and prepared to set up someplace a bit less drippy.
Joseph he would leave to Tia.
If all went well, there might be two guests for tea instead've the one...
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She moved to the table that Joseph had materialized above and silently asked the remaining items on it to move - and they did. She laid out her mat and allowed the blackness to drip on it, and when it touched, it seemed to solidify and then rise, curling, becoming thicker in the air. She muttered something to herself and it flinched, and then became it's original consistency again. Tia turned away from it and back to Severus.
"I know you have a sort of magic that change the shape of things," Tia said. "My magic does a similar sort, but to change a thing to a man, I must have changed said man to whatever else. Not so sure it work. Be you skilled in these arts? Transform one thing to another?" She removed another item from her bag, something that seemed far to large to fit in it, a mysterious item wrapped in cloth. She set it aside for now, taking out several sea shells of mysterious dark colors and worn-looking crustacean claws, bringing them back to the table and scattering them once, twice - and on the third time she left them, satisfied.
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He nodded to Tia.
"Do what you can," he said, "and let me know what you need from me when the time comes.
You'll be better soon, Mr.Schrieber...." Severus tended to talk a little louder when he addressed the ghost. The Bloody Baron had been half deaf as well as all dead. Perhaps Snape assumed all ghosts were hard of hearing by the same token. "won't it be nice to be able to walk over and sit about by the new cafe and take in a bit of atmosphere?"
Snape didn't know Joseph disliked Starbucks, but then, how could he? There were no Starbucks in Hogsmeade, and he'd only ever seen one in London.He did not know that in the Americas these things were like a baleful virus across the lands...
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"IT WILL. BE NICE. TO GET OUT. GO TO. A BAR. NO BEER. IN YEARS."
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No beer in the afterlife." Severus shook his head. "what a ghastly state of affairs. Remind me not to die, if I can at all help it."
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She coaxed a few of the items on the table to glow, murmuring quietly to them. She took the bundled object and placed it in the center, just below the black mass, and unwrapped it, revealing the corpse of a large cat. As it was touched by the dripping material, it began to twitch.
"You need to posses it." She stated flatly.
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Deep inside himself, Joseph could feel the corpse of a cat, twitching under the black stuff that dripped all over him. He focused on it. Become the cat. You can do this Joseph, become the cat.
The head vanished.
The cat mewed weakly.
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There was a reason Severus had never learned much of the necromantic art.
In spite of spending years handling weird and sometimes even dangerous plants, and dried bits of animals, he rarely if ever had to see let alone make use of a whole one.
He stepped over to the table, and drew his wand again.
"Casses anima, commuto hominus ab cattus!"
That should have the desired effect. Snape waited to make sure.
It gave him time to muse why the language of spells tended to be Latin. He also idly wondered why when during the Babel curse all he could speak was Latin he hadn't been going about changing things all the time...
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His mind was fractured, but his memories solidified into the small mind like an overpowering drug, crammed into the small mind of the cat. He could feel his consciousness overpowering the puny brain as ideas that were too complex for the cat's small mind forced themselves to form neural bonds that a cat's brain wasn't equipped to handle.
The cat's brain was on the verge of anurism when he heard Snape say some words.
There was an explosion of light, and Joseph felt human.
Cold. A mind that fit his him. A head that was his own, even if he had a raging migraine and could barely see, his head was his own. He fell off the table and rolled up into a ball, covered in black ichor and looking half starved, while heavy patches of solidified ichor covered his skin. He twitched madly, then began to shiver madly.
"Cold... So... Cold..." He stammered between shivers.
Joseph was. He was naked, covered in black goo, and starving, but he was.
"Thank... You." Joseph said, still shivering.
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"You may wish to go clean yourself," he said calmly, "I'm sure you'll find a spare robe in the bathroom as well.
No guarantee as to the permanence of that form, so you may want to get yourself some pet supplies when at times of stress it fails you..." he began back towards the kitchen to check on the tea. "I shall prepare you some potions for such times. They should prolong the manifestation."
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His mind was finite. It was inside his head, he was in one location, not all around the room. He was... There. Senses... Water. A body. Skin. Smell of soap. Headaches. A taste like he needed to brush his teeth something fierce. A weakness in his bones, and an empty feeling in his gut. He nearly went into shock as it occurred to him that... He was alive.
But he felt himself. He managed a small laugh, then finished the shower. Grabbing a robe, he exited the bathroom.
"Thank you, both of you... I... I'll see people about making this more permanent. It feels good to have a body, and now, with your leave, I'd like to return to my room and put on some of my old clothes, and have a bite to eat." Joseph said weakly, although the weary smile on his lips conveyed much more gratitude than were in his words.
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"Be wary of your stability," she said, not sounding terribly urgent. "Start to come apart, find another cat. Consume it, in all parts."
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