rjlupxns

[rjlupxns]

TASK 003: MODERN & MUGGLE

FAMILY + BACKGROUND 

so clearly, your boy is not a werewolf here. like, you don’t know how badly i wanted to just say fuck it, who’s to say werewolves aren’t real in the modern world. mostly because i love werewolves. but! you’ll be happy to know i overcame the desire and remus didn’t grow up turning a little furry once a month 

still, growing up was a strained sort of thing. remus’ father worked for the government, and was always a prominent figure in advocating for prison reform. he brought about campaigns and votes that ended up changing the way the system was run in a lot of places, for a lot of instances, and as a result didn’t make a lot of friends in the more criminal part of the population. 

one of these not - friends was our buddy fenrir, who was just like, you know, your average violent criminal with a passion for vengeance. lyall’s petitioning didn’t do anything to change fenrir’s sentence, but it did make his last few years in the system a hell that he blamed mr. lupin for, and mr. lupin for alone. when he did get out, remus was five, and remus was the victim in a hit and run accident that literally everyone knew who to blame for it. 

fenrir was caught, eventually, but the accident had some irreparable consequences for remus. certain parts of both legs had shattered bones that never really healed right ( he was growing like a weed at five, was the thing. that plus the long healing process and the numerous procedures he had to undergo meant that his legs were just fucked for good. )

remus wasn’t happy about it, of course, because it meant that he never got to play around and just have the stupid fun other kids did. but he literally never knew any other existence --- the chronic pain and periodical need to use a cane were just part of life for him. but his father never let it go. he felt at fault for what happened to remus, but instead of taking that and using it to create a bond with his son and help him find a path to better recovery, he dove into his work even more. the two grew to have a really strained relationship, because even years after remus had accepted his condition as the way Life Was, his dad looked at him and saw his own failings. 

SCHOOL + OCCUPATION 

his dad could get fucked, though, because remus was mostly chill with life. did he hate the chronic pain and the assholes who asked insensitive comments about his cane and wonky way of walking? hell yeah, he did. but remus was always a very ‘it is what it is’ kind of guy, even in canon; a little on the cynical side of realism, but mostly at peace with it. he wasn’t angry, he wasn’t sad. he liked his life

physical therapy had been a part of his life since the accident; again, he was chill with it.  but at around age eleven his PT suggested he take up swimming and he took to it like a fish to water ... if you don’t mind the pun. the same insensitive assholes tended to question how someone who needed a cane to walk could swim as well as he did, but remus loved the peace of the water and the rare harmony it brought to his body. 

he did it all through school, and continued to do it during university. he’s currently still a student and is studying to become a paramedic. the degree is taking a little while because remus is a stubborn ass who insists on doing everything for himself. the nature of his relationship with his dad made him decide to do school all on his own --- so he splits his time between classes, and the pool, and his job at the research library on campus and his job at a local veterinary clinic. 

because!! remus loves animals. he’s a total animal rights activist; his twitter is a minefield of anti - peta posts and pictures of the animals he works with. he actually wanted to be a vet for the longest time, growing up, but he’s Tired. made it to university and realized he didn’t have the energy for veterinary school like he’d always planned, so ... paramedic. helping people is the next best thing to helping animals. 

his dad doesn’t think he should / can become a paramedic with his legs and chronic pain, to which remus ( again ) tells his dad to fuck off about. he knows it’ll be really hard on him, and that he’ll need to take more care of his body during and after shifts than his peers, but he really feels drawn to the career and knows he can do good if people just let him.  

PERSONAL + SOCIAL

remus was a small time viner. and by that i mean he was probably just like, chill, as he was with all things and quietly faded out of making vines like three months before vine ended. didn’t go on to really make any more internet content after, though since literally all of his social media is just a platform for pictures of animals people stuck around. 

given his sense of humor he’d probably have made stuff like drew gooden? and then just quietly moved back to posting dog photos on twitter with the occasional meme - captioned instagram selfie. he has a public snapchat, also mostly for posting animal videos too, but when he gets together with the marauders or goes to parties, he snaps the whole thing with bone dry commentary that just gets more lowkey scathing the drunker he gets. they’re hilarious, take my word. 

just to reiterate but remus Loves animals a whole lot okay and would probably be chill with going out because he broke for a bird and got rear ended into a tree. 

he’s the biggest stoner to ever stone. he does get a kick out of smoking recreationally, but he also uses it a lot to help with his chronic pain. it’s pretty half and half, to be honest. he’s down to have a good time at a party and can handle alcohol pretty well, but he doesn’t like getting crossed and would 10/10 prefer to smoke over drink when he’s just chilling. 

hates the idea of smoking cigarettes though, and is pretty adamant about it. 

he still, of course, considers the other marauders his best friends. they met at a party several years back but honestly he can’t remember when, because it was an instant sort of click. he’s still pretty sociable and generically likeable --- in canon that was a way to cope with the sort of fucked up way he grew up, and the same holds true here. he’s got a ton of different friend groups, from the people he swims with, to his coworkers at both the library and the vet hospital, to the others in the paramedic program. he likes people and likes that they like him in return, but would also love to just be around the marauders or animals. 

as much as he posts about animals and animal rights, he posts a lot about lifting the stigma about talking and dealing with chronic illnesses is. loves publicly ripping into people who comment about his cane or any obvious signs of pain. 

he has two cats and a dog and he would Die for them and expects those around him to do the same should the time call for it. 

[rjlupxns]

canismajcrs:

   idly the male’s eyes skimmed the paper as he sipped on his coffee that morning, stopping at a certain want ad that stood out amongst the rest. honestly, the so-called perks sounded alright until he got to the last one. “ a bed reserved for you at the nearest working hospital? “ he read out loud, “ don’t know who does their marketing, but they should probably be fired. don’t think many people are goin’ to be drawn in with that. “ they might as well have mentioned that your death certificate was part of your intake paperwork. 

        “  you should file a complaint with them. tell ‘em it really was your dream job, but then that ad came ‘round and really, you like being alive. “  remus’ words were dry --- the suggestion not anything he expected sirius to do, however funny any ensuing conversation might turn out.  he slumped over his own cup of coffee, the burn of it bitter; he hadn’t had the patience to doctor it up, caffeine too necessary. it’d been harder sleeping with his injuries from everything just now settling in. still, he cocked an eyebrow at his friend before raising the cup to his lips. “ while you’re at it, make sure to mention you’ve got a friend willing to fill in writing their PR. “

[rjlupxns]

flehtcher:

dung felt a slight jump go through his body when he heard the voice ( something he’d deny later on ). he wondered how he’d not heard any footsteps or breaths or anything before — was he so wrapped up in his head that he forgot to be WARY? probably, considering he’d been cursing loudly while hiding, but still — he couldn’t help but feel stupid. “no, go ahead man,” he called back, wondering if he should get out of his stall to help. he felt safe there ( which was, in all honesty, a naive and stupid thing to do ) and wasn’t a big fan of helping people with their bloody faces, but the voice sounded familiar. he got up, opened the door, let his eyes fall on a bleeding remus and nodded as a greeting. “rough day?” he smirked slightly, bitterly, as he leaned against the stall. mundungus stayed silent for a moment, observing the other while taking another drag from his cigarette. “d’you need some help? that looks rough. death eaters got you? they’re not on yer tail, are they? i, uh, got some pain killing potions –” how he’d gotten them was not important. “– but they’re pretty strong, so i’d only recommend them if you’re either dying from pain or looking for a good time.”

remus nodded his thanks before remembering that the look wouldn’t translate through the door. still, he laid a handful of paper towels down in the sink the muffle the sound water would make before turning the knob. now, there was a problem. with few other options, remus crouched, spine and knees both bent in a way he knew he’d be paying for once the adrenaline wore out, and stuck his face under quiet stream of the faucet. he wasn’t in much position to turn when mundungus came out of the stall --- remus tried and ended up with a rush of fading-pink water in his eyes for the trouble. “ aw, shit, “ he said; an apt agreement, because, yeah. rough day. he stood with little dignity and gave in to simply shaking the water out of his face. the blood was gone enough, anyway, no longer pouring down his face. “ no help, really. they were too busy lurking and talking about which floors had better numbers of yet-to-be-tortured hostages, so I had to book it. “ he shrugged, shuffled his sock-clad feet until he was leaning back against the edge of the sink; they weren’t on his tail, but this floor was not in his top-ten hiding places all the same. he shoved his wand in his back pocket.  “ some of the dipshits broke the glass of an observation room, and I slipped. “ a shrug, a glance towards the door. remus itched to keep running even has he felt his skin knitting into scars. “ keep the potions, man --- I think you should clear outta here, anyway. there’s a ton of ‘em on this floor, yeah? “

[rjlupxns]

flehtcher:

      sitting under a no smoking sign while taking desperate drags from a cigarette would have made dung laugh his ass off on any other day, but today he barely even registered the irony. ALL he knew was that he needed the damn smoke, the quick and small relief of a cigarette. it was distracting, too, to watch the curling smoke, to focus on his breathing … it was a small moment of escape. WELL, as much escape as he could get — the fact that he was stuck ( and not just in a smelly bathroom, but in a hospital ) was enough to make him feel all kinds of itchy. this was not dung’s scene: he avoided confrontation and battle and blood – well, blood most of the time – and did his work in the DARK, sneaking around and risking only his damn self. this was too big for him, and in this moment of privacy, hiding in a bathroom stall, he allowed himself to give into the fear that was making his muscles tense. “fuck,” he cursed suddenly, hoping that speaking to a perfectly tiled wall would help. “fucking bloody mothershitting hell.”

“ yeah, “ remus agreed. he wasn’t quite sure where the swearing was coming from --- a stall, he thought, but he couldn’t bother to look or check which one. his head was tipped back with a bundle of paper towel clutched to his wand; the other hand gripping his wand tight even though he figured anyone cursing up a storm in a bathroom stall in situation was, at the very least, not looking to see him dead. minutes earlier, remus had barely turned a corner away from a few fucking masked lunatics, ran like hell, and landed face first in broken glass for the effort. uncaptured but not unscathed, finding a bathroom had seemed like a priority enough; maybe he should have checked if it was empty first, but, oh well. “ fucking bloody mothershitting hell seems ‘bout right, now. hey --- “ remus tipped his head sideways so he could catch a hint of feet under one of the stalls, and spoke to those. “ you’re not gonna come out swingin’ if I turn the water on, right? gotta wash some blood outta my face. “

[rjlupxns]

adromvda:

            A SINGLE FINGER PRESSED AGAINST SOFT LIPS, a silent plead for the cowering patients hiding away with her to stay quiet. one, two, three, four… she could count five other people in the room with her, hiding beneath beds and peeking around chair legs. her number one goal was to make sure they got out of this hospital with all five still in tact. she herself ?  well, perhaps her own safety was not the priority. and perhaps it was non-negotiable. from the moment alarms had sounded throughout the hospital, andromeda had known that a target was drawn on her back, and the only reason she hadn’t stepped out to help anyone so far was for the fear that she might put her patients at risk. the moment the death eater’s knew that infamous blood traitor andromeda tonks was in this room, not a single soul that she tried to protect would be left alive. and so she stayed, eyes darting across the room to make sure everyone stayed quiet and ears perked to listen out for any kind of noise. what she really wanted was an update  —  was anyone dead ?  were her friends hurt ?  were they any closer to getting everyone out ?  —  but of course all she could hear were muffled screams and shuffling footsteps from the floor above.

           the first break in the chain of familiarity came when a series of rushed footsteps sounded from the end of their very corridor. palms sweaty and shaking and her heart racing in her chest, andromeda gestured to the patients to stay hidden, keeping her eyes glued to the door. she hoped above all hope that whoever it was would just run right past them, but of course, when had she ever been lucky ?  instead, she was forced to watch as the door creaked open, her heart now caught in her throat as she just waited for them to find her. 

                        SNEAKING TOOK A LOT OUT OF YOU, remus knew. had known for his whole life, probably, and definitely since school and the war and every shit show that followed both. even if hiding from prefects and professors was a more lighthearted hiding than moving homes constantly to keep from making friends and making secrets, less life-threatening than moving stakeout locations and month-to-month flats for fear of suspicion --- it all led him to this point in his life. hiding in a hospital, surrounded by literal masked agents of evil. well aware of the target on his back to any who knew of his condition.

            a mandatory check up on that was the whole reason he was at the hospital. he had no doubts the monsters holding children and the sick and elderly would have taken recently signed-in records as soon as they entered. he had no doubts that a werewolf was a mighty fine body to add to their kill list. but remus ... well, remus was good at sneaking. at hiding, at running, however cowardly that made him seen. evasive tactics were second nature when the other option was death; he’d known to slip his shoes off and into his bag to make himself soundless. he’d known when running was the better option and when crawling was. did his best to guess in any area where intuition didn’t come into play. for the most part remus had made sure to stick to hallways and waiting rooms, other large areas filled with things he could duck behind if it came to that. he was wary about settling into a room and hiding out, but he’d been going off almost since the first sign of trouble. he had no idea what was happening at this point. so he took a gamble, and crept towards a closed door he had a half-decent feeling about. swung it open ( because doors tended to creak more if you tried to ease them, he knew this too ) and prayed it was filled with no one --- and if not no one, than at least other people like him. he couldn’t see anyone immediately, but there was a feeling, like eyes on the back of your head. his wand was still held out, but he lifted the other in a sign of half-surrender. he prayed once more, that death eaters didn’t hide, and said, “ remus lupin. I don’t mean any harm to those who don’t mean harm to me. “

[rjlupxns]

(zoe, she/her, 20, cst, n/a) REMUS LUPIN  is AN ORDER MEMBER in the war, even though HIS official job is as FREELANCE RESEARCHER. the TWENTY year old HALFBLOOD is known to be AFFABLE and UNDERSTANDING but also EVASIVE and CONFLICTED. some might label them as THE ICARIAN.

remus has a full bio here and a full stats page here ( as well as a pinterest board ... and a playlist! ), but for simplicity’s sake there’s a shortened version of how i play him under the cut. hmu for any plotting you may want to dive into!!

growing up the way remus did, it was hard for him to have any friends that weren’t his mother and father. he loved them --- especially because they made it clear time and time again that every move, every paranoia was for him --- of course he loved them. but it was a suffocating kind of love; until he was eleven years old and got a visit from dumbledore, remus worried that that would be the only life he ever knew. hidden in the countryside with only his parents and his own lonely mind for company. not allowed access to the world that his magic gave him a right to. kept hidden, kept away, just kept. 

as soon as he found out that he would be allowed to go to hogwarts, he made it his mission to become this sort of likable, every-guy type once at school. he didn’t want to stand out (which like, failure right off the bat, rem, look at your friends) and he didn’t want to ostracize himself to do that. he had this chance now, and he would do nothing to get it taken from him. so he developed a sense of humor, got good at listening to other people, but didn’t go out of his way to be too good. 

the long and short of it is that outside of being a marauder, remus grew to be someone it was hard to dislike. he hated making waves; even people who set his blood boiling might hardly know it, from the way he carried on, all mild tones and tight smiles, nothing but passive aggression even when he wanted nothing more than to deck someone clean across a room. even first years whose complaints he was tired of hearing would think he was the friendliest prefect around, and even bigots with loud mouths wouldn’t know the anger in his placid face.

remus wanted it that way; he became a prefect with a reputation built up around a sense of wry humor, who’d been known to always be down for a game of pickup quidditch, and never took to droning on and on about himself when talking to someone. after all, everyone likes that guy. no one would think to question what that guy is hiding. when that guy left school and went for an easy-as-you please sort of job, working for everyone and no one, well, that wasn’t a surprise, either. of course remus would stray from clean alliances, of course he’d be available to all who needed him. 

he loved that his persona made his job something to be expected; hated that, also. he’d never claimed to want to be anything else. no aspirations towards the auror program, no healer dreams, no cursebreaker goals. he would use his fast-acting mind for everything in between, with wartime strategy on the side. he couldn’t afford to want anything else. 

he’s a great liar. most people wouldn’t know it to look at him, because, look at him! he’s mastered the art of telling people obvious things in such a trusting tone they feel they’re being let in on a secret. his face, friendly smile and all, seems like it couldn’t be more guileless. he’s got a lot of internal conflict going on, even aside from the obvious wolf-y conflicts, and it’d be so hard to tell even from knowing him well. and, again, this is because remus wants it all this way. he’s smart and calculating, machinating his life without even realizing it himself, sometimes. 

sometimes his mild mannered mask feels too obviously fake to him, but it’s better then showing people all the terrible tortured-soul business he’s got going on behind the scenes. no, it’s better to let everyone think he’s great, that he’s fine. better to be good than to be the best -- than to be the worst. better to be a decent soldier than a hero, than a martyr. 

he’s panicked and trying not to show it, because there’s no way the future looks great for him. but who cares about the future? the way things are going, he sometimes wonders if he’ll even ever have one. 

typical teenage bravado saved the day for a long time --- but remus is twenty and feeling much older. it wasn’t that out of the ordinary to see a seventeen year old boy from the most golden group of them refuse to pay the rest of his life any mind, go the way of an indiana jones job and a bohemian lifestyle. hell, at the time remus was sure he wasn’t the only one, marauder or otherwise, trying desperately not to think of what’s to come. but that’s wearing on him now, as is everything else. he wants the war to be over, he wants his life to have a track that doesn’t end in death. 

but for now, there’s a lot on his plate. he can compartmentalize like a champ, and if he has his way, he can tell himself the future isn’t a problem up until the day it knocks on his door and takes him away. 

[rjlupxns]

“what the fuck” is an emotion now and its the only one i have

[rjlupxns]

He was contemplation and enthusiasm. Ambition and strong coffee.

E. Lockhart, We Were Liars (via wordsnquotes)

[rjlupxns]

➤ Chay Suede as Rafael in Babilônia

[rjlupxns]