albuquerque: (Default)
🄹esse   🄿inkman ([personal profile] albuquerque) wrote in [community profile] lumos_maxima2013-09-22 07:38 am

open rp post #002



THE OPEN "WE WERE GOING TO RP THAT, REMEMBER?" POST

SO, BASICALLY. If we have ever discussed plotting a PSL or doing a thread but haven't gotten around to doing it,
WELL, NOW WE CAN.

Either comment with a rundown of said plot we'd talked about, or post a starting thread to said plot.

ALSO OPEN TO ANYONE WHO JUST WANTS TO THROW THEIR MUSE AT SNAPE (or Remus, if you'd prefer Remus).
Just leave either a prompt, a thread suggestion, or a thread starter.
substandard: (this cult is fucking gay as heck)

[personal profile] substandard 2013-09-30 01:59 am (UTC)(link)
"Well," Draco spat tensely, his shoulders reflecting his irritability. "Thank you. But I didn't come here to tell you about how my father is doing."

"Well" meant that Lucius was staggering with his name, trying to cover his ass—again. Watching his family struggle with the shame was difficult, and it was also Draco's burden to share.

Snape's behavior wasn't a surprise; Snape had a special talent for finding one's sore spots, but it wasn't usually Draco subjected to this. Indeed, Draco normally got to have a laugh at Harry and his friends as Snape turned his dull-toned wit unto them.

But that was years ago. Draco didn't like the feeling that this fact evoked within him.

"Further," Draco began again, "there is no bloody being a Death Eater with the Dark Lord dead, is there? What's more—"

Draco's lip lifted, glancing at the corner of the table for a moment, his brows furrowing as he shook his head. His hands knotted anxiously, and he ignored the tea for now, chilly though he was.

"—I've got no interest in murder."

He couldn't say he'd made his father proud. Draco found Snape's eyes again, not wholly positive how to convince him.

"I am not here to finish any damn—job."
substandard: (how about u shut right the fuck up)

[personal profile] substandard 2013-10-02 06:46 pm (UTC)(link)
Draco fidgeted with irritation, lifting his upper lip to reveal a bit of teeth. He was irritated with Snape's insinuation that he hadn't what it took to be a Death Eater—the others had said so as well. But at the same time, Draco didn't want that sort of life—still, it felt like a jab at his competence. His lack of bravery.

Draco picked up the cup, but didn't drink; he didn't know how weak Snape has become since fleeing (he looks a bit badly off), but surely he wouldn't resort to petty poison to off a haggard, tired teenaged boy. Draco knew he was being paranoid, but with the politics of everything, the trauma of the war wearing on him heavily, he couldn't help but be that way.

"Nothing like that has yet come to my attention; likely that if it's true, my mother would try to keep me out of it." Draco's father, however, was another story, which is why Draco fails to mention. "If anyone's put me up to this, it's Potter," he spat.

Then, Draco decided to sip his tea, but he continued glowering across the table at Snape.

"At first I thought that he was giving me the run-around, but I could feel it—I knew he wasn't."