Lunar Pains [open]

[moony]

All he wanted to do was crawl into bed and die.
Was that too extreme? Maybe “die” wasn't the right word. After all, death was a little bit too permanent for his liking. Sure, it must be nice, that freedom of the soul, that eternal sleep, that release from fatigue and drain. But therein lay the problem: “Eternal”. Remus desperately wanted to sleep but he wasn't ready to make it 'eternal' just yet. He liked to think that he still had a few years in him. However thinking and feeling were often two very different things. While his intellect railed and vented one thing (He was only 38 years old, for Merlin's sake. He was not old. He preferred... weathered), his body stubbornly countered with another. The message?

”I want to crawl into bed and die....” Remus pressed his head into his hand, feeling the clamminess of his brow through the minute aching in his fingers. Somewhere beneath his fingertips, a little heartbeat pounded. Ba-DUMP. Ba-DUMP. Ba-DUMP.
He was hyper-aware of that heartbeat. He could feel it in his head, and through each of his limbs, and deep within the marrow of his bones, there it was too, beat beat beating that incessant tune.
Ba-Dump. ow.
Ba-Dump. Ow.
Ba-Dump. Ow...

Perhaps dying wouldn't be such a bad thing right now.

”Oh, Get a grip, Lupin, you great child.” He thought irritably, heaving a mildly frustrated sigh. He shifted his head, looking up with bleary eyes through the shades of his fingers at the crowds of London trickling past his bench without so much as a backwards glance. He couldn't really blame them, he mused, fully aware that he probably looked like the typical sort of ruffian any half-decent person tended to shy away from: He looked ill-fed. His clothes were shabby and in need of some patching (or a trashcan). His skin had taken on the kind of parlor usually reserved for the very sick, a grayish hue that made the dark circles under his eyes all the more prominent. His hair was a complete and utter mess, as if the concept of a comb was a foreign one, and by the general air of all-encompassing weariness that seemed to crowd his very person, Remus had effectively managed to ensure his own invisibility in a crowd of thousands. And all without an invisibility cloak, he thought dryly. He shut his eyes, leaning back against the bench.

Just a few more minutes... He'd rest here a few more minutes, but then he'd have to go. Once again, he could hear his irritating inner child whining. ”But what about bed? Rest? What about sleep and recuperation. Couldn't purchasing supplies be done tomorrow?” It wailed, and Remus was almost half inclined to agree with it. From a logical perspective, he was, quite frankly, burnt out. The full moon was never easy, but while the transformations itself were terrible in their own right, it was always the day after that Remus dreaded most.
He...supposed he shouldn't complain.
He'd been lucky in recent years, terribly lucky. The Wolfsbane Potion had lessened his suffering considerably and he no longer woke up, feeling as if he'd been run through a shredder. His mental suffering had been lessened too. The potion kept the wolf in check and Remus no longer lost his mind, his sense of self, on the full moon. He was permitted to remain as he was, Remus Lupin, rather than turning into an unpredictable, savage being. That was probably the greatest blessing. So long as he could keep his sanity, the full moon became nothing but a passing occurrence, a minor irritation. He stifled a smirk, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. How spoiled he'd become in his old age! He had the luxury of coming out from his transformation in one piece, and yet he still had the gall to complain about the aches and pains brought on by having his bones twisted and rearranged.

”Now if only...there was a potion for that... He thought, bracing himself against the bench to stand as the aforementioned “aches and pains” ricocheted through his spine. It would probably taste disgusting...

Tag; Open!
Wordz; As usual, too many
Other; Rem feels like an old man in this XD...

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[THAMUEL FOSTER]

Thamuel Foster was out in London on one of his ever rare supply trips. Occasionally it did him some good to get away from the refugee camps every so often. He was also on a mission of course. It was hard to obtain a few of the necessary Potions because there weren't very many brewers in the hidden community (that he had found anyway) as well as some of the Muggle medicines. Even though he was a Pureblood he could blend in with the Muggles.

He was on his way to yet another stop, a bag or two already present in his hand, when he spotted a familiar figure. It was former Professor Remus Lupin. Thamuel smiled for a moment. He remembered meeting the older man in his sixth year and their relationship back in Hogwarts had been what one would expect: a student/teacher type of thing. The young redhead had figured out Lupin's secret within a few weeks, but it never bothered him much. He could tell from looking at the other that something was wrong; there was an obvious grayish cast to the skin. He calculated the time in his head and frowned. There had been a full moon recently...

Remus was in pain and needed help! Thamuel's Healer instincts kicked in. He diverted his current course, heading to the bench instead. He grinned at the other in a rather boyish way as soon as he was close enough. "Hello... Remus." He paused for a moment, wondering whether he should have called him Mr. Lupin or Professor... "Remember me? It's Thamuel Foster. We met in my sixth year at Hogwarts. I was in the process of preparing myself for an early NEWT sit in. How are you? I mean... seriously. I'm a Healer now so I might be able to help."

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Tag: Remus
Words: 301
Location: London
Notes: Blah... Sorry this sucks.