capeandcowl | £ 027.

[hello, network! this is gemma, sitting in her bedroom at home, in a comfy chair with a copy of jane eyre open on her lap. she's dressed comfortably, and it just looks like such a cozy atmosphere. she has a few candles lit, opting to use as little electric lighting at the moment as possible. it reminds her of home okay.

anyway, she smiles at the comm, which is in her hand. as she speaks, she gets up and starts to move around her room: adjusting the curtain at the window, straightening the books on a shelf, etc.]

Until last year, I'd only ever seen an English Autumn--very rainy and such, not pleasant at all. But here, it's so different! The colors of the leaves aren't constantly dulled by water, and the wind isn't as brisk.

[she pauses, standing in the middle of the room. gemma shakes her head and laughs a bit.]

Listen to me, prattling on as if--

[before she cuts herself off, the room has darkened significantly--the candles have gone out. she's only visible now because the window is open. gemma stands completely still for far less than a second, and then her eyes go wide. the hand holding the comm starts to shake. fear and pain etch itself into her face, which has gone pale. her voice is quick, a hoarse whisper, though she doesn't seem to be talking to anyone:]

Please, not now, I haven't--

[and in the next second she crumples to the ground, and not even gracefully at that. the comm rolls across the floor, knocked out of her hand. it comes to pause on her prone form. her breathing is shallow; her crescent eye necklace has worked its way from beneath the collar of her dress and is glowing faintly on the ground. she's staring at the camera, eyes glossy with a faraway look in them. but she doesn't move an inch.

the feed cuts abruptly.

[ooc; if you'd like to action thread, feel free.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Shortly after he enters the room, Gemma comes to with a choking gasp, her entire body convulsing once, twice. In one quick, jerky movement, she manages to roll to lie on her back, fingers gripping at the carpet beneath them. Her amulet is still glowing, though when she rolled it moved to rest on her collarbone, nearly searing her skin. It took her a moment to notice, but once she did she reached up and tore it away from her neck, throwing it across the room. She hadn't yet noticed her company.]

Bloody--

[He doesn't finish the thought because he's dodging that... thing she just threw. Welp. Dammit; settling down he kneels beside her and murmurs spellwork -- carefully, slowly -- to ascertain condition, as the tip of his wand glows purple. No injury -- beyond the burn, at least, but he can see to that -- no illness. Well then.]

Miss Doyle? Can you hear me?

[She's startled by his voice--she looks at him, but the moments it takes to register who he is shows in her eyes. Once she does, she sits bolt upright (careful not to touch him, no, he wouldn't want that right now), wrapping her arms around herself. The magic is strong. Were it visible, it would coat nearly every inch of the room. But it isn't seeking out a place to go, it's merely there, waiting, almost watching. Protecting. She's left gasping for breath from the movement.]

I just--need a--moment to breathe.

[As soon as she sits back, he's leaning out of the way; he can feel the power off her.]

And something to drink, and I'll mend that burn once you're--

[SAFE TO TOUCH?]

you've collected yourself

[When he mentions a drink, she automatically lifts her hand; almost immediately, a glass of water appears in it. But she sets it aside on the floor--she's realized that her hands are shaking too much for her to actually drink it. She pinches the bridge of her nose with two fingers, closing her eyes. She had to remember what she'd seen.

And she might as well explain herself.]

It was a vision. I've not had one--in a long time. I was unprepared.

I have-- seen those who get true visions. It is not unlike what you experienced. ["Seen" through a keyhole, maybe, but still.]

I'll put the kettle on and you can tell me what you saw.

[He's leaving the magic-laden room for her to have a moment to herself and goes to make himself nosy -- err, busy in the kitchen.]

[James had apparated over as quick as he could, as well -- though obviously not quick enough to beat Snape over. But he hesitates at the front door and knocks, all the same.]

Gemma?

[She hardly nodded once Snape left, and concentrated instead on getting to her feet and following. Her mind was full of images: a single great monster, and countless smaller ones. She remembered the saltiness of the sea on her tongue, and could feel terror all around. The vision had started out so cold, but had become hotter and hotter until she'd thought she'd die from it. It was as she was going down the stairs that she heard the knock. Not even bothering to wonder who it was, she went to answer. Her hands were still trembling a bit, and she was actually surprised to see him at the door.]

--James?

[Snape just-- stopped for a moment, tea prepped and water heating... and then went to the doorway of Gemma's kitchen to loom, saying nothing at all.]

[The hate that rolls off him in waves is a near palpable thing. James Potter should stay away from ~~anyone he cares about~~ Gemma Doyle, as far as he's concerned.]

[Oh bugger off, Snape, he's just as worried as you are. But he ignores (shockingly) Severus in order to inspect Gemma worriedly.]

Hello, yes, you alright? What happened?

[The anger coming from Snape was certainly something she felt--the magic made her rather empathetic. But she's distracted from chastising him by the sudden bombardment of questions. The redhead blinks a few times, trying to orient answers in her mind. She felt like she was covered in some sort of film--in reality it was the magic, clinging to her body, ready to be used, but she just felt as if she needed a bath.]

Erm, I'm fine I just--I had a vision.

[Snape wasn't going to stop hating James Potter anytime soon, so -- he just stood there, brooding in the doorway.]

£ 027.

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