Severus Snape POPs! Open RP.
Apr. 2nd, 2008 06:41 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
methleigh.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
hh_mirrorThe Unpopcorning of Severus Snape
approved by the mods, etc.
He was coiled small, his knees pressed to his forehead, his forearms pressed close to the outsides of his calves. It must be so. How else could he be so compact, so dense? It was dark. It was silent, and the only difference was an occasional disorienting tumbling when some small earthquake rolled him over and over down a very rocky hill. He didn't understand why he couldn't put out a hand or foot to stop himself on these occasions. And sometimes he detected from the force of gravity that he was upside-down and he wondered why the blood did not rush to his head.
It was always as if he had just curled up, but time must have passed because he noted events - the variations of sudden rolling, the occasional temperature changes. Could it be a petrification spell? But that would not have rendered him blind, or deaf. What was it? Sometimes he tried to puzzle it out, to count occasions of movement, but he lost track, conciousness, concentration. That was not like him at all, and he wondered at himself. It must be a curse, but there was no pain.
The temperature rose. Higher this time. He was surprised he wasn't sweating, his robe clinging to him, but he was able to detect no robe. Was he naked? No.... Merlin, it was hot. And he felt so... tight. Why couldn't he move? He expected his breath to arrest with the heat, his lungs to seize with the pressure. But he did not seem to be breathing. Pressure? He seemed to be... Was it infection, a swelling within him? No pain. No pain. He was confused.
Merlin. He felt... Why didn't he ache? Why didn't it hurt? Dark curses he could understand. He had invented enough, felt enough, but...
Then suddenly he was aware. It smelled like a fair... He had once been to a fair. He unclenched his arms from his legs, straightened his spine, curled around himself, lifted his head and...
BANG! There was an explosion beneath him, no through him, no... It was too sudden to analyse. Severus was launched into the air, his arms and legs thrown splayed, his hair flung up and spread wide, his mouth open in a wide O of almost shock, though it was not unpleasant, more startling. He crashed down into a pile of hard yellow kernals, bruising his skin , so tight over his bones. And now his black robes stuck wet to him, no, not wet...
He passed his hand through the hair soaking over his face, sticking and obscuring his vision, dripping into his eyes. Rich shining yellow drops flew behind him, almost beautiful. A door. There was a door. He waded over to it and was surprised to find it unlocked. It was the old stone corridor of Hogwarts. He wandered out disoriented, hoping to find the dungeons.
approved by the mods, etc.
He was coiled small, his knees pressed to his forehead, his forearms pressed close to the outsides of his calves. It must be so. How else could he be so compact, so dense? It was dark. It was silent, and the only difference was an occasional disorienting tumbling when some small earthquake rolled him over and over down a very rocky hill. He didn't understand why he couldn't put out a hand or foot to stop himself on these occasions. And sometimes he detected from the force of gravity that he was upside-down and he wondered why the blood did not rush to his head.
It was always as if he had just curled up, but time must have passed because he noted events - the variations of sudden rolling, the occasional temperature changes. Could it be a petrification spell? But that would not have rendered him blind, or deaf. What was it? Sometimes he tried to puzzle it out, to count occasions of movement, but he lost track, conciousness, concentration. That was not like him at all, and he wondered at himself. It must be a curse, but there was no pain.
The temperature rose. Higher this time. He was surprised he wasn't sweating, his robe clinging to him, but he was able to detect no robe. Was he naked? No.... Merlin, it was hot. And he felt so... tight. Why couldn't he move? He expected his breath to arrest with the heat, his lungs to seize with the pressure. But he did not seem to be breathing. Pressure? He seemed to be... Was it infection, a swelling within him? No pain. No pain. He was confused.
Merlin. He felt... Why didn't he ache? Why didn't it hurt? Dark curses he could understand. He had invented enough, felt enough, but...
Then suddenly he was aware. It smelled like a fair... He had once been to a fair. He unclenched his arms from his legs, straightened his spine, curled around himself, lifted his head and...
BANG! There was an explosion beneath him, no through him, no... It was too sudden to analyse. Severus was launched into the air, his arms and legs thrown splayed, his hair flung up and spread wide, his mouth open in a wide O of almost shock, though it was not unpleasant, more startling. He crashed down into a pile of hard yellow kernals, bruising his skin , so tight over his bones. And now his black robes stuck wet to him, no, not wet...
He passed his hand through the hair soaking over his face, sticking and obscuring his vision, dripping into his eyes. Rich shining yellow drops flew behind him, almost beautiful. A door. There was a door. He waded over to it and was surprised to find it unlocked. It was the old stone corridor of Hogwarts. He wandered out disoriented, hoping to find the dungeons.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-04-05 06:58 pm (UTC)"Potions..." He decides to put in a good word for the subject. "Potions are an art of precision and experiment, of patience and inspiration. I trust that will become clear when you encounter them." He smiles at the thought of potions and bubbling cauldrons, wherever they may be. He looks about him almost furtively as if he will somehow divine his location frm the stone corridor.
no subject
Date: 2008-04-05 07:03 pm (UTC)'Then if someone posts a class, I'll sign up. I don't think anyone has for a while, though--oh no, there was a Divination class proposed a few days ago, but it's not due to begin for a week.'
no subject
Date: 2008-04-05 07:48 pm (UTC)He hopes she keeps talking about the school without his having to ask, hopes he is able to reorient himself smoothly without looking like a fool.
no subject
Date: 2008-04-05 08:02 pm (UTC)'Anyway, I think the Potions professor left,' she says, remembering an upset Rose Casson. 'I don't know if the position's been filled again.'
no subject
Date: 2008-04-05 08:30 pm (UTC)He remembers his own father and the open palm against his head when he had managed his first otherwise enchanting little effects.
"I'm sure a new Potions Master will be appointed for the new term when it begins. You need only wait until the Feast."
ooc: Giant snake... ooooooohhhhhhhhh. mean.
no subject
Date: 2008-04-05 08:35 pm (UTC)Bella looks confused. 'Me a witch? No, my Dad doesn't know anything about this place--and I'm seventeen anyway. No, I came here...' she pauses. 'I fell off a cliff and ended up here. What Feast? I've been here for months and there have been no classes--' she pauses, and looks up. 'It's not really a proper school anymore...'
Which means he must have been here before. And she's possibly messed up the space-time continuum. Thingy.