A Bunch of Headcanons Part 3: It Is 1 AM Edition and This Probably Sucks
“Cleanliness” of surroundings means different things to different flights.
“Neat” on special occasions with surfaces buffed clean, junk and litter stowed away, with every rock it its proper place. A light dusting is usually observed since most Earth homes are naturally dusty and really it’s probably going to take an eternity to keep things dust free. Dirt and mud are welcome, so long as they don’t get into what they shouldn’t.
“Fresh” for the most part due to not staying still enough to accumulate a mess. Mobile lairs are aired out, and washed things always left to dry outside as weather (or weather magic) permits, with a quick wipe usually enough for most things. The flight of 5 minute showers probably. Any permanent hideaway used as a pit stop is usually full of junk though.
“Clear”, especially in lairs with structures built above water. Things are washed and polished until water runs clear. Keeping reflective surfaces shiny and scry-friendly is a must. Things meant to last such as marble and stone are well-maintained, while wood is almost always just for the rotting beachy bohemian look unless it’s sealed with a magic varnish. The rotting beachy bohemian look includes seashells welded together with calcium, big seaweedy rocks, and barnacles on everything.
“Pure”, especially pertaining to metals and crafts. Fire lairs are cleansed of soot and smoke, while metal wares and crafts and polished to their brightest. Paws are washed and claws clipped of grime on the regular because that stuff gets all in your nails. The best lair hearths are those that produce the least smoke and projects the clearest light. Sometimes they throw in fragrant herbs and flowers and everyone has a real good time.
“Pristine” in that structures made of ice ought to be made flawless on the get go since it ain’t easy repairing on account of the whole “brittle and meltable and gross when slushy” nature. The key is maintaining the clean and stable by magic or careful addition of water left to freeze at certain points of a structure. Furs and leathers are carefully treated but otherwise are left to wear and tear in the naturally cold environment.
“Stainless”: please keep your workstations clean at all times! Trash receptacles are found everywhere for easy disposal of litter. Workbenches are all neat with tools arranged and oiled in leather wraps and cases. Paperwork must be filed away at the proper desk trays! But honestly your bed can look like a featherback boar’s behind and no one would give a fuck so long as you keep your crumbs to yourself.
“Bright” means everything jewel-encrusted and metallic and pale gets a scrub and polish and dry. Marble floors are so polished they are viable murder weapons on slippage alone. All the windows open to maximize the natural light, but curtains elegantly at the ready in their own little holders. Everyone’s teeth are brushed and sharpened, all the better to smile with. The third best flight at cleaning blood stains off of things.
“Slick” means clean enough but so long as you don’t see it, it doesn’t exist. Hence the second best flight at cleaning blood stains. Waxes and varnishes often used on surfaces. Every Shadow laundry dragon knows the secret to preserving dark fabrics in the wash and thus makes good coin from clans that regularly shop at Dragon Hot Topic.
“Wasteless” means immaculate on account of every possible scrap is squirreled away for eating later or consumed by someone else. Both cooking and hunting/working implements are regularly cleaned and maintained. A deep understanding and respect for disease paved the way for remarkably effective aseptic techniques in both experimentation and everyday life. The best flight at cleaning blood stains–either an industrial grade cleaner or a sufficiently thirsty clan member’s tongue will suffice.
“Harmonious” in that things aren’t kept clean so much as they are leaft to grow and camouflage itself. Lairs often overrun with all manner of creeping vegetation and subsequent pests (insects, rats, etc); some call it filth, others call it efficient hunting. Most are hoping the outdoorsy jungle portrays a “charming” sort of messiness. Whatever junk and clutter can’t be ignored is often stored in tree trunks.
“Organized” in that it doesn’t actually matter if your surroundings are junk-filled or filthy, so long as you know where everything is. Magical storage portals grant a plethora of options in tossing shit out of sight until hammerspace beckons again. It is vital that arcane crystals and energies never be disturbed in case Weird Shit happens.
When Remus was little life around him was a whirlwind. Short, stubby legs toddling across hardwood floors and leaving disaster in their wake. Throwing his arms out wide to spin and spin until the world was blended all together and nothing was quite in its place. Hope would laugh with him and Lyall would shake his head, wondering if their little boy would ever reign in the chaos that surrounded him.
He stopped spinning in circles after he was bitten. The feeling of everything around him turning garbled and disjointed happened enough as it was.
Remus was eight when he started organizing his room, finding a place for everything. It was soothing in a way, to have control over part of his life, even if it was only alphabetizing his books and neatly folding his clothes.
Remus was twelve, laying down in a too-big hospital bed, tugging at the loose threads of his blanket. He hated this part; when he had to come back to himself and see the aftermath of what he’d done. Even if the damage was only to himself and the damp, rickety shack, it still wears on him. He refuses to cry when the matron checks up on him, all gentle smiles and kind words, telling him it’s safe to return to his dormitory now.
He doesn’t talk to his dorm mates much at first, focused on school work and counting out lunar cycles. Everything in his trunk was organized; neat rows that he carefully maintained. It reminded him of home.
The other boys are amused by it. Peter makes a joke of moving one thing each week; a quill on the opposite side of his desk, rumpling his blanket, turning his pillowcase inside out. And it’s funny, until Remus storms out, too upset to explain why these things matter so much to him.
It’s the middle of fifth year and Remus was staring, wide eyed, at his three friends. Except they aren’t. They’re all fur and wet noses, stag dog and rat watching him expectantly. He doesn’t know if this will work, if it will help anything, but the fact that they tried at all eases a weight off his shoulders he didn’t even know was there.
Remus is sixteen and his four poster bed is a wreck; clothes and books tossed around and mismatched socks folded haphazardly together. The other three boys can’t make heads or tails of how Remus keeps track of it all. It’s almost like he’s in the middle of a whirlwind, everything spinning madly around him, and he at its center, exactly where he is meant to be.
and his trunk is organized just the way he likes it and he has to wash his hands three or four times before and after he does anything and he just has these rituals and routines for getting ready in the morning and for getting ready for bed, and sometimes they make him late for class (even though he doesn’t mind that, anyway, because he’s never really been punctual).
and at first the marauders just think he’s all uppity and very much so a pureblood because he doesn’t like them touching his things and he gets very very upset when they do, and he can take ages to get ready in the morning and they don’t understand it. and they don’t understand why he has to touch some things over and over and over again before he can do something else.
but they respect his wishes and don’t touch his things and allow him to do his little rituals. and as they get older, they start to realize that there’s something else going on, so they’re extra considerate of it.
then one time snape knocks sirius’ stuff all over the floor and he starts to get Very Upset, so peter jinxes him and james and remus wash their hands and gather sirius’ things and wipe them down and wash their hands again before giving them back to sirius. and sirius knows he has these really great friends and he loves them very much.
and also, lbr, there are times when he’s kissing remus before class and he has to redo it several times so that it feels right. and remus always allows for extra time beforehand. and sometimes sirius just keeps remus even after he gets it right because why the hell not
Centaurs freak me out. Do they have like 2 pelvises? And 2 sets of every trunk organ? Like 2 sets of lungs with their own ribcages? Is the food they eat processed once by their human part and once by their horse part? How are all of these organs even connected?