Phone and Voicemail
Jan. 28th, 2026 11:10 am"--do what now? The bloody hell is -- [indistinct, muffled conversation that becomes slowly clearer] -- ... can't they just fucking owl?
Fuck, fine. I just... [indistinct voice heard in the background again] Sirius Black. That's me. [And again that same voice is heard.] Leave a message, if that's a thing you do. Or just come bloody find me. Merlin."
Fuck, fine. I just... [indistinct voice heard in the background again] Sirius Black. That's me. [And again that same voice is heard.] Leave a message, if that's a thing you do. Or just come bloody find me. Merlin."
(no subject)
Feb. 7th, 2017 09:28 pmThough it's only a small thing, Kieren had asked Sirius not to open the box while James was around. Which, of course, only made Sirius all the more curious of what might be inside. He's convinced himself it's not a ring; the box is the wrong size and shape for that and, what's more, that does feel like a step Sirius isn't quite ready to make. And likely Kieren isn't either, he imagines. It's not even been a year!
Still, he can't imagine what it might be that Kieren doesn't want James to see. He must know by this point that Sirius will likely tell him what it is in due time anyhow. Especially if it's some sort of sex toy, if only to see the look on James's face.
But he does as requested, waiting impatiently as the three of them laugh and drink and finish out the evening in each other's company.
Once James has left however, leaving he and Kieren alone for the first time since earlier in the afternoon, Sirius can't wait any longer.
And he says as much, picking the little box up off the table with an anxious hand. "You're not going to make me wait still longer, are you?" he asks, arching an eyebrow when he looks up at Kieren. "I've been waiting hours now."
Still, he can't imagine what it might be that Kieren doesn't want James to see. He must know by this point that Sirius will likely tell him what it is in due time anyhow. Especially if it's some sort of sex toy, if only to see the look on James's face.
But he does as requested, waiting impatiently as the three of them laugh and drink and finish out the evening in each other's company.
Once James has left however, leaving he and Kieren alone for the first time since earlier in the afternoon, Sirius can't wait any longer.
And he says as much, picking the little box up off the table with an anxious hand. "You're not going to make me wait still longer, are you?" he asks, arching an eyebrow when he looks up at Kieren. "I've been waiting hours now."
[12/25] christmas day
Dec. 19th, 2016 12:55 pmIt's a strange day, Sirius thinks. Though far from his first Christmas spent with James, it's his first here in this city and his first with Kieren. He'd invited both to his flat for the holiday where he'd managed to Muggle his way through some semblance of a Christmas turkey and pudding and side dishes. He's still getting used to his new wand is the thing, Kell's blood lending a certain amount of volatility that he hadn't quite expected.
He'll get there, he knows. But it's better to work out the kinks later than risk ruining an entire Christmas meal. And it's not as though James has been any help without his wand. It's almost funny, he thinks, how useless they are without their magic. Lily would likely be delighted. And Remus, too.
But, if nothing else, he knows Kieren is more impressed that he left magic out of it entirely despite the headaches it may have afforded Sirius.
There are a good number of gifts sitting wrapped below the tree though Sirius, at least, is a bit more interested in polishing off the bottle of Muggle whiskey. It's impossible to fully ignore the utter lack of Lily and Harry and Remus, and Sirius knows Kieren is missing his own family desperately in this moment, but he thinks if only they drink a bit more, it'll be easier to not dwell. That's often his favoured way of coping, after all.
He's sat back in the sofa now, resting close to Kieren, forcing himself to not act any differently in James's presence though it's turning out to not be an easy thing at all.
"Shall we play a card game?" he suggests after knocking back another sip of whiskey and sitting up a bit straighter. "That's a delightfully Muggle thing to do, isn't it? Is there a special Christmas one?" he asks, looking to Kieren now for input.
He'll get there, he knows. But it's better to work out the kinks later than risk ruining an entire Christmas meal. And it's not as though James has been any help without his wand. It's almost funny, he thinks, how useless they are without their magic. Lily would likely be delighted. And Remus, too.
But, if nothing else, he knows Kieren is more impressed that he left magic out of it entirely despite the headaches it may have afforded Sirius.
There are a good number of gifts sitting wrapped below the tree though Sirius, at least, is a bit more interested in polishing off the bottle of Muggle whiskey. It's impossible to fully ignore the utter lack of Lily and Harry and Remus, and Sirius knows Kieren is missing his own family desperately in this moment, but he thinks if only they drink a bit more, it'll be easier to not dwell. That's often his favoured way of coping, after all.
He's sat back in the sofa now, resting close to Kieren, forcing himself to not act any differently in James's presence though it's turning out to not be an easy thing at all.
"Shall we play a card game?" he suggests after knocking back another sip of whiskey and sitting up a bit straighter. "That's a delightfully Muggle thing to do, isn't it? Is there a special Christmas one?" he asks, looking to Kieren now for input.
[12/19] building wands and such
Dec. 19th, 2016 11:31 amThings have been a bit strange since James's arrival.
To be honest, things have been strange for quite some time, long before James's arrival, before Sirius lost his wand in that other Darrow, before Harry's disappearance. It's only that he's learned to live with the general strangeness of this city, learned to balance out the fact that the man he loves died once before and came back as a zombie before turning fully human once more, learned to accept that he's well and truly stuck here with no means of escape.
But James's presence makes it all so much more strange. In a wonderful way, of course. An impossible way. James still died, he knows, and it's still Sirius's fault, but he's here now, just as Sirius is. That must account for something even if Sirius isn't quite sure yet just what.
And he is still in need of a wand.
James had laughed when he'd told him the story, had mocked in that typical way of his, but Sirius had told him his plans for building a new one and, though James had expressed some reticence, it hadn't been enough to deter Sirius any.
He finds Kell in his usual spot, apparating straight into his little nook with a pop and grinning when he sees the familiar ornament he'd gotten him hanging in decoration.
"Kell!" he exclaims happily before striding over to the desk in two long steps and dropping the heavy book he'd taken from the Lamplight atop it. His broken wand is tucked away neatly within the top drawer, empty and powerless, and Sirius pulls it out carefully before waving both ends in Kell's direction. "Not busy, are you? In the mood for constructing a wand?"
To be honest, things have been strange for quite some time, long before James's arrival, before Sirius lost his wand in that other Darrow, before Harry's disappearance. It's only that he's learned to live with the general strangeness of this city, learned to balance out the fact that the man he loves died once before and came back as a zombie before turning fully human once more, learned to accept that he's well and truly stuck here with no means of escape.
But James's presence makes it all so much more strange. In a wonderful way, of course. An impossible way. James still died, he knows, and it's still Sirius's fault, but he's here now, just as Sirius is. That must account for something even if Sirius isn't quite sure yet just what.
And he is still in need of a wand.
James had laughed when he'd told him the story, had mocked in that typical way of his, but Sirius had told him his plans for building a new one and, though James had expressed some reticence, it hadn't been enough to deter Sirius any.
He finds Kell in his usual spot, apparating straight into his little nook with a pop and grinning when he sees the familiar ornament he'd gotten him hanging in decoration.
"Kell!" he exclaims happily before striding over to the desk in two long steps and dropping the heavy book he'd taken from the Lamplight atop it. His broken wand is tucked away neatly within the top drawer, empty and powerless, and Sirius pulls it out carefully before waving both ends in Kell's direction. "Not busy, are you? In the mood for constructing a wand?"
[9/25] a return
Sep. 28th, 2016 10:13 pmIt's not torture, really. As promised, the man -- McCoy, apparently, though clearly of American dissent and not Scottish -- had provided him with a bed (albeit one he is uncomfortably cuffed to) and food and water in exchange for pumping Sirius full of some sort of drug that kept him continually loose and rather agreeable.
Or as agreeable as Sirius could be, at least.
It isn't until the third day that Sirius manages his escape. The latest bout of drugs are wearing off and McCoy's left for the evening. Sirius doesn't have a clue how long he'll be gone, but, not knowing when this opportunity might arise again, he isn't about to wait around and find out.
For all the magic he's been drugged into performing over the course of several days, shifting into Padfoot is one that he's managed to keep secret. The shackles on him fall right off afterward and Sirius quickly shifts back so he can properly open the door and make his escape.
He makes sure to remember the location, vowing to return for his wand later, but for the moment he heads straight for the breach.
Apparating is a bit too dangerous drugged and exhausted as he is, but he walks to the Nook in search of Harry first thing. He's out, it seems, and the Lamplight is equally empty so he heads for Kieren's flat next, nearly slumping against the door as soon as he's there and knocking weakly.
"Kier?" he calls out with a heavy sigh. "You in?"
Or as agreeable as Sirius could be, at least.
It isn't until the third day that Sirius manages his escape. The latest bout of drugs are wearing off and McCoy's left for the evening. Sirius doesn't have a clue how long he'll be gone, but, not knowing when this opportunity might arise again, he isn't about to wait around and find out.
For all the magic he's been drugged into performing over the course of several days, shifting into Padfoot is one that he's managed to keep secret. The shackles on him fall right off afterward and Sirius quickly shifts back so he can properly open the door and make his escape.
He makes sure to remember the location, vowing to return for his wand later, but for the moment he heads straight for the breach.
Apparating is a bit too dangerous drugged and exhausted as he is, but he walks to the Nook in search of Harry first thing. He's out, it seems, and the Lamplight is equally empty so he heads for Kieren's flat next, nearly slumping against the door as soon as he's there and knocking weakly.
"Kier?" he calls out with a heavy sigh. "You in?"
(no subject)
Aug. 11th, 2016 04:17 pmBusy as things have been over the last couple months, what with Kieren's increasingly troubling symptoms, Kieren's spontaneous re-humaning (for lack of a better term), and time spent helping Kieren heal as well as reacquaint him with the wonder of taste, smell, and touch, Sirius hasn't had much time for venturing out as he used to. In fact, lately most of his ventures lately have been on two feet instead of four, a necessity given that he frequently needs his hands to carry bags and bags of groceries back to his flat for Kieren's consumption.
But things have calmed somewhat as of late. Sirius no longer feels a deep need to keep Kieren in bed with the door locked as he had those first few weeks and, admittedly, he's developed something of a restless itch under his skin.
Or his fur as the case may be.
Today he's poking about a few of his more familiar haunts, his paws light on the ground and tongue lolling as he slips into one establishment after another, taking free food as its offered and chasing after cats and squirrels simply for the fun of it.
It's the familiar, glorious smell of freshly cooked food that draws him toward Tintern Abbey, but his tail starts wagging when he catches a separate mix of scents altogether.
Just as he'd hoped, Garrick is lounging about in the alley just outside the tavern and Padfoot lets out a quick, excited bark as he nears.
There you are, old friend, he says in that language only animals can truly understand.
Where Garrick is, he knows Demelza must be too, likely inside tending to her business. But it's only a matter of time before she comes out to check on Garrick or chuck him some food. He wonders how far along she must be by now, if her back aches every day as Lily's had after months and months.
He wonders if she's missed him at all.
But things have calmed somewhat as of late. Sirius no longer feels a deep need to keep Kieren in bed with the door locked as he had those first few weeks and, admittedly, he's developed something of a restless itch under his skin.
Or his fur as the case may be.
Today he's poking about a few of his more familiar haunts, his paws light on the ground and tongue lolling as he slips into one establishment after another, taking free food as its offered and chasing after cats and squirrels simply for the fun of it.
It's the familiar, glorious smell of freshly cooked food that draws him toward Tintern Abbey, but his tail starts wagging when he catches a separate mix of scents altogether.
Just as he'd hoped, Garrick is lounging about in the alley just outside the tavern and Padfoot lets out a quick, excited bark as he nears.
There you are, old friend, he says in that language only animals can truly understand.
Where Garrick is, he knows Demelza must be too, likely inside tending to her business. But it's only a matter of time before she comes out to check on Garrick or chuck him some food. He wonders how far along she must be by now, if her back aches every day as Lily's had after months and months.
He wonders if she's missed him at all.
meeting the godson
Aug. 11th, 2016 02:49 pmIn all honesty, Sirius can't remember a time he's been so nervous.
Perhaps the day of Harry's birth when he'd spent the entirety of Lily's labour wandering about the garden trying to expel restless energy. He likely hadn't been any more nervous than James that day, but at least James had something to do, something to focus on. Sirius only had his own mind to get lost in, a dangerous thing given its propensity for dramatics.
He finds today, this evening, doesn't feel much better.
Sirius checks the noodles once again, though they've been ready for minutes now and are only warming under the lid. The sauce is nearly done as well, but Sirius stirs it for at least the hundredth time as he quells the impulse to pour himself a fresh glass of wine. He's already operating on one as it is, likely not a great idea to be too sloshed by the time Harry arrives.
And that should be any minute really.
Sirius's fingers twitch at his sides and he glances over when he hears Kieren enter the kitchen. "Should I have gotten one of those cheesecake things, do you think?" he asks, forcing himself to remove his hand from the wooden spoon. "I've three pints of ice cream in the freezer, but what if he's not in the mood for ice cream. What if he'd rather have a cake?"
None of this is really about the food, Sirius knows. But it's much easier to focus on that, then the real reason Harry's joining them for dinner tonight.
Perhaps the day of Harry's birth when he'd spent the entirety of Lily's labour wandering about the garden trying to expel restless energy. He likely hadn't been any more nervous than James that day, but at least James had something to do, something to focus on. Sirius only had his own mind to get lost in, a dangerous thing given its propensity for dramatics.
He finds today, this evening, doesn't feel much better.
Sirius checks the noodles once again, though they've been ready for minutes now and are only warming under the lid. The sauce is nearly done as well, but Sirius stirs it for at least the hundredth time as he quells the impulse to pour himself a fresh glass of wine. He's already operating on one as it is, likely not a great idea to be too sloshed by the time Harry arrives.
And that should be any minute really.
Sirius's fingers twitch at his sides and he glances over when he hears Kieren enter the kitchen. "Should I have gotten one of those cheesecake things, do you think?" he asks, forcing himself to remove his hand from the wooden spoon. "I've three pints of ice cream in the freezer, but what if he's not in the mood for ice cream. What if he'd rather have a cake?"
None of this is really about the food, Sirius knows. But it's much easier to focus on that, then the real reason Harry's joining them for dinner tonight.
(no subject)
Aug. 9th, 2016 03:39 pmOne great thing about summer is the excellent weather it provides for a ride for motorbike rides. He ignores the well-meaning shouts and snipes he receives from Muggles for not wearing a helmet or leather, content to let them remain ignorant of the charm keeping him safe from emptying brain matter across the cement as he feels the cool air against his skin and in his hair.
Of course, the looks he gets from admiring men and women is even better. He grins at more than a few, reveling in a little harmless flirting.
It's on his second trip around the city that it occurs to him he hasn't seen Kell in quite some time and, while he could pull over for a bit and apparate all over town in an attempt to find him, Sirius instead takes a sharp turn on Michigan Avenue and heads south.
Sirius is mere blocks away from Kell's training warehouse when he spots a head of familiar red hair and Kell's equally familiar coat. It seems much to hot to be wearing such a thing, but Sirius isn't honestly sure he's ever seen Kell out of it.
"Bit of a fashion statement, there, don't you think?" he calls out as his bike slows to a rumble along side Kell, his feet falling to the cement.
Of course, the looks he gets from admiring men and women is even better. He grins at more than a few, reveling in a little harmless flirting.
It's on his second trip around the city that it occurs to him he hasn't seen Kell in quite some time and, while he could pull over for a bit and apparate all over town in an attempt to find him, Sirius instead takes a sharp turn on Michigan Avenue and heads south.
Sirius is mere blocks away from Kell's training warehouse when he spots a head of familiar red hair and Kell's equally familiar coat. It seems much to hot to be wearing such a thing, but Sirius isn't honestly sure he's ever seen Kell out of it.
"Bit of a fashion statement, there, don't you think?" he calls out as his bike slows to a rumble along side Kell, his feet falling to the cement.
(no subject)
Jul. 27th, 2016 02:05 pmIt's been over a week now since Kieren's run in with an automobile, short stint in hospital, and return to the land of the living. In that time, Sirius has attempted cooking a number of meals (some with very limited success) and brewed endless cups of tea for Kieren's taste. He's gone to the grocery store nearly every single day, bringing home bagfulls of things either specifically requested by Kieren or purchased impulsively by Sirius.
(Some, he'll admit to no one, hadn't been purchased at all. But what's the use of being a wizard without using the privileges inherent in such a thing from time to time.)
Tonight, in lieu of yet another botched cooking attempt, Sirius has instead decided to order in. There's a lovely Indian place just down the street he's always loved and so uses the little mobile phone contraption and orders... quiet a bit before joining Kieren on the couch.
"How's the arm today?" he asks, making sure not to jostle too roughly as he pulls his feet up on the sofa and reaches over to lightly squeeze Kieren's thigh, just because he can. "Do you need another pain spell?"
(Some, he'll admit to no one, hadn't been purchased at all. But what's the use of being a wizard without using the privileges inherent in such a thing from time to time.)
Tonight, in lieu of yet another botched cooking attempt, Sirius has instead decided to order in. There's a lovely Indian place just down the street he's always loved and so uses the little mobile phone contraption and orders... quiet a bit before joining Kieren on the couch.
"How's the arm today?" he asks, making sure not to jostle too roughly as he pulls his feet up on the sofa and reaches over to lightly squeeze Kieren's thigh, just because he can. "Do you need another pain spell?"
(no subject)
Jul. 6th, 2016 09:17 pmSirius had never once in his life considered the notion of celebrating American's Independence Day. He hadn't even been certain what such a celebration would entail until he'd been at the festivities.
Hot dogs, apparently. It involves a lot of hot dogs.
And fireworks, he'd found, as the sun set and the sky turned black.
The mood of the party had shifted at that point as well, going from the rather wholesome, carefree atmosphere similar to the carnival of only weeks ago into something... well, a bit more sinister. Somewhere in the fray, Sirius had lost track of Kieren, had found himself swept into a mess of rather boisterous and clearly very drunk Americans plying him with cup after cup of alcohol all whilst cheerfully calling him all manner of derogatory British things.
Sirius hadn't minded. The drinks were free.
It's late now, however, and Sirius is very drunk and, he realizes, has not a clue where Kieren's run off to.
He blinks down at his phone for a moment, frowning at the tiny buttons swimming across the screen before tapping out what he can only hope is a legible message.
The reply he receives moments later is rather short. Curt.
Sirius hiccups, brow furrowed.
He's too drunk to attempt apparating so instead he walks. By the time he's stood just outside Kieren's door, he's nearly sober. He lifts a hand, knocking quietly as he leans forward to rest his forehead to the wood.
"Kieren. Kiiiiieren. Kieren, it's late, babe. Open up?"
Hot dogs, apparently. It involves a lot of hot dogs.
And fireworks, he'd found, as the sun set and the sky turned black.
The mood of the party had shifted at that point as well, going from the rather wholesome, carefree atmosphere similar to the carnival of only weeks ago into something... well, a bit more sinister. Somewhere in the fray, Sirius had lost track of Kieren, had found himself swept into a mess of rather boisterous and clearly very drunk Americans plying him with cup after cup of alcohol all whilst cheerfully calling him all manner of derogatory British things.
Sirius hadn't minded. The drinks were free.
It's late now, however, and Sirius is very drunk and, he realizes, has not a clue where Kieren's run off to.
He blinks down at his phone for a moment, frowning at the tiny buttons swimming across the screen before tapping out what he can only hope is a legible message.
The reply he receives moments later is rather short. Curt.
Sirius hiccups, brow furrowed.
He's too drunk to attempt apparating so instead he walks. By the time he's stood just outside Kieren's door, he's nearly sober. He lifts a hand, knocking quietly as he leans forward to rest his forehead to the wood.
"Kieren. Kiiiiieren. Kieren, it's late, babe. Open up?"
(no subject)
Jun. 13th, 2016 10:10 pmIt's been some weeks since Sirius's last visit to this particular Muggle shop though he's found the layout hasn't changed any in his absence. Kieren has come with a list and Sirius, it seems, has taken upon himself the role of carrying every last item they acquire from it.
At the moment, he has three magazines tucked under one arm, while juggling between two hands another disc film thing remarkably similar in appearance to the one he'd watched with Lila, yet another pair of handcuffs (this time not intended for the use of containing a rabid zombie -- or at least not in the traditional sense), a rather intricate sort of harness contraption, and a bottle of wildberry-scented lube that Sirius had insisted on in exchange for the plain, scentless kind.
There's just one thing left and Sirius stands before the shelves and shelves of available plastic cocks, of every shape, size and color imaginable. Some come with plastic testicles attached, some without and each flared at the base which, apparently, is integral for the harness.
If he's honest, Sirius is a bit overwhelmed. It's not a sensation he's used to.
"Can we get one that's just... shaped like yours?" he wonders aloud, frowning as his eyes catch on one the approximate size of a coffee canister.
At the moment, he has three magazines tucked under one arm, while juggling between two hands another disc film thing remarkably similar in appearance to the one he'd watched with Lila, yet another pair of handcuffs (this time not intended for the use of containing a rabid zombie -- or at least not in the traditional sense), a rather intricate sort of harness contraption, and a bottle of wildberry-scented lube that Sirius had insisted on in exchange for the plain, scentless kind.
There's just one thing left and Sirius stands before the shelves and shelves of available plastic cocks, of every shape, size and color imaginable. Some come with plastic testicles attached, some without and each flared at the base which, apparently, is integral for the harness.
If he's honest, Sirius is a bit overwhelmed. It's not a sensation he's used to.
"Can we get one that's just... shaped like yours?" he wonders aloud, frowning as his eyes catch on one the approximate size of a coffee canister.
(no subject)
Jun. 1st, 2016 10:32 pmIt occurs to Sirius only once he's standing in the middle of Harry's parlour that apparating without invitation in the home of a seventeen year old boy is possibly not the wisest decision he's ever made. After all, it wasn't so very long ago that he was seventeen himself, he's well aware of certain biological imperatives. He can only hope that Harry has managed to master the many shielding, silencing, and cleaning spells that he had.
Luckily, as far as Sirius can tell, he hasn't stumbled into anything that could be horribly embarrassing for the both of them as Harry's front room appears quite empty.
He at least knows better than to go barging into the bedroom.
Instead, he heads straight for the kitchen, opening up the cupboard he well knows holds his favourite biscuits and hopping onto the counter as he calls out loudly, "Harry! Harry, your favourite godfather is here! You'd better come out here before I eat all your biscuits!"
Luckily, as far as Sirius can tell, he hasn't stumbled into anything that could be horribly embarrassing for the both of them as Harry's front room appears quite empty.
He at least knows better than to go barging into the bedroom.
Instead, he heads straight for the kitchen, opening up the cupboard he well knows holds his favourite biscuits and hopping onto the counter as he calls out loudly, "Harry! Harry, your favourite godfather is here! You'd better come out here before I eat all your biscuits!"
(no subject)
May. 26th, 2016 03:37 pmSirius is absolutely not panicking. Panicking would, after all, be ridiculous. It's been several weeks since Kieren's episode, several weeks even since he and Sirius decided to make things more or less official as is, apparently, the way of things. If he were to panic over such a thing, surely it would've happened sooner. Perhaps right away, even.
It does not making any sense whatsoever for Sirius to be panicking.
Yet, there is an unmistakable itch beneath Sirius's chest, a prickling at his fingertips, and he hardly even knows where it is he's going before he's there, the scenery of his own front room swiftly replaced by the much smaller, much more cramped walls of Kell's secret little room. There are a few more maps and pictures on the walls than when Sirius was here last: a worn poster of the Eiffel Tower, a photo of the Pyramids of Giza, one postcard-sized photo of the heads of Easter Island.
He finds himself momentarily distracted from the fast flutter of his own heartbeat by a small model train car perched atop a shelf and he reaches out to touch it before noticing Kell sat on his ratty old arm chair by the window.
"Ah, you're here," he says, spinning around to face his friend, relieved but somehow not surprised to have found him so easily. It's far from the first time Sirius has popped in unannounced, after all. Sirius does wonder when Kelly might start putting up wards to block him. "Brilliant! I need your help."
It does not making any sense whatsoever for Sirius to be panicking.
Yet, there is an unmistakable itch beneath Sirius's chest, a prickling at his fingertips, and he hardly even knows where it is he's going before he's there, the scenery of his own front room swiftly replaced by the much smaller, much more cramped walls of Kell's secret little room. There are a few more maps and pictures on the walls than when Sirius was here last: a worn poster of the Eiffel Tower, a photo of the Pyramids of Giza, one postcard-sized photo of the heads of Easter Island.
He finds himself momentarily distracted from the fast flutter of his own heartbeat by a small model train car perched atop a shelf and he reaches out to touch it before noticing Kell sat on his ratty old arm chair by the window.
"Ah, you're here," he says, spinning around to face his friend, relieved but somehow not surprised to have found him so easily. It's far from the first time Sirius has popped in unannounced, after all. Sirius does wonder when Kelly might start putting up wards to block him. "Brilliant! I need your help."
seeking answers
Apr. 10th, 2016 05:49 pmIn truth, Sirius is more than a little unsettled following his confrontation with the strange woman from Kell's world. Unsettled and overwhelmingly curious to know just exactly how it is Kell knows her given that Kell hasn't uttered a word of her existence in the entire time they've known one another.
There's a chance Kell doesn't know her at all, that the timelines of the two separate worlds have mismatched much in the same way of Sirius's own.
And there's just as likely a chance that Kell has kept a number of things quiet. Sirius wouldn't have considered Kell particularly secretive before today, but it's not as though they've known each other for a terribly long time in the scheme of things. And it's not as though Sirius has divulged absolutely everything himself.
The fact that Kell's flat is next door to Harry's and only several floors below his own has never been more convenient. As soon as Delilah has left him, her grotesque mask in hand, Sirius is off to hunt down some answers. Of course, he should've known Kell wouldn't be at his flat at all and, as Sirius soon discovers, he isn't training in his enchanted warehouse either.
Growing all the more anxious, Sirius thinks of one last place to look, remembering the cramped, bare little room with the window looking out over Randolph Street. Between one breath and the next he's there and, as soon as he spots Kell's familiar mess of red hair, he says, "What do you know of a Miss Delilah Bard?"
There's a chance Kell doesn't know her at all, that the timelines of the two separate worlds have mismatched much in the same way of Sirius's own.
And there's just as likely a chance that Kell has kept a number of things quiet. Sirius wouldn't have considered Kell particularly secretive before today, but it's not as though they've known each other for a terribly long time in the scheme of things. And it's not as though Sirius has divulged absolutely everything himself.
The fact that Kell's flat is next door to Harry's and only several floors below his own has never been more convenient. As soon as Delilah has left him, her grotesque mask in hand, Sirius is off to hunt down some answers. Of course, he should've known Kell wouldn't be at his flat at all and, as Sirius soon discovers, he isn't training in his enchanted warehouse either.
Growing all the more anxious, Sirius thinks of one last place to look, remembering the cramped, bare little room with the window looking out over Randolph Street. Between one breath and the next he's there and, as soon as he spots Kell's familiar mess of red hair, he says, "What do you know of a Miss Delilah Bard?"
[3/18] birthday
Mar. 20th, 2016 01:35 pmLeaning gingerly against Kieren's door frame, Sirius pulls in a breath. There doesn't appear to be a single inch of his body that isn't in pain though at least it's not so bad as to have kept him from making his way to Kieren's flat. Perhaps he should learn how to use that mobile contraption Harry had shown him weeks ago after all.
Though, if Sirius is honest, he'd much rather see Kieren at the moment if only to prove he truly hadn't forgotten. Even if he's given up on the decorations he'd bought and never made it to buying the cake.
He rings the bell carefully, wincing as even so little a movement sends a lance of pain up his arm. He's fairly sure he's broken his clavicle and, come tomorrow, he'll stop by Ron's shop and gather supplies to make himself a potion. He'll be right as rain in no time.
After he's done a bit of groveling, that is.
Though, if Sirius is honest, he'd much rather see Kieren at the moment if only to prove he truly hadn't forgotten. Even if he's given up on the decorations he'd bought and never made it to buying the cake.
He rings the bell carefully, wincing as even so little a movement sends a lance of pain up his arm. He's fairly sure he's broken his clavicle and, come tomorrow, he'll stop by Ron's shop and gather supplies to make himself a potion. He'll be right as rain in no time.
After he's done a bit of groveling, that is.
some spell work
Feb. 27th, 2016 06:30 pmIt had taken Sirius the better part of two days before he'd finally found a pair of cuffs tucked into the postbox of an abandoned house. It's fuzzy and pink, as promised, and Sirius holds them like a prize as a woman eyes him suspiciously and pointedly crosses the street.
After tucking the cuffs inside his jacket, Sirius heads to Dimera. There's no guarantee Kieren will be in, but it's not as though Sirius has much else to occupy his time.
He can't quite keep the grin off his face as he taps his knuckles to Kieren's door. It's the first he's been here, though Kieren had given him the address weeks ago. There's a bit of a knot in his stomach as he waits, a mix of excitement and anticipation as well as fear. Or perhaps fear isn't the right word, but Sirius isn't certain how else to describe it.
When he hears the turn of the knob, Sirius props his arm against the door jamb and quickly pulls the cuffs from his jacket with his other hand, grinning proudly as they dangle from his finger.
After tucking the cuffs inside his jacket, Sirius heads to Dimera. There's no guarantee Kieren will be in, but it's not as though Sirius has much else to occupy his time.
He can't quite keep the grin off his face as he taps his knuckles to Kieren's door. It's the first he's been here, though Kieren had given him the address weeks ago. There's a bit of a knot in his stomach as he waits, a mix of excitement and anticipation as well as fear. Or perhaps fear isn't the right word, but Sirius isn't certain how else to describe it.
When he hears the turn of the knob, Sirius props his arm against the door jamb and quickly pulls the cuffs from his jacket with his other hand, grinning proudly as they dangle from his finger.
One of the more interesting aspects of this city, as Sirius has learned, is not the mere presence of magic itself, but the presence of so many different kinds of magic. There's the magic he knows, the spells and charms he's spent so many years of his life honing and perfecting with wand and word. And there's the magic of the two boys who have unusually keen senses of smell and the magic from Krem's world that involves staves in lieu of wands and, of course, the magic of the city itself that seems intent upon making fools of its inhabitants.
Beyond that even are the sheer number of Muggles willing to embrace magic so openly. Not merely the ones who've come from afar to find themselves stuck here just the same as Sirius, but the ones who seem to have been born here.
It's frankly as unnerving as it is freeing.
But also helpful.
He learns of Magnus by word of mouth, not by name at first but in overhearing a conversation here and a whisper there, and it takes him some time to realize he's already met the man once before, the memory a bit fuzzy due to the number of alcohol drinks he'd consumed at the time.
It takes him a few days more to track him down.
"Ah, at last," he breathes when he notices Magnus at the other end of the bar, his memory not so blurred as to have forgotten those eye. Grabbing his drink, he takes a seat beside the warlock and grins wide. "Magnus Bane, we meet again. This time with much better ambient music, thankfully."
Beyond that even are the sheer number of Muggles willing to embrace magic so openly. Not merely the ones who've come from afar to find themselves stuck here just the same as Sirius, but the ones who seem to have been born here.
It's frankly as unnerving as it is freeing.
But also helpful.
He learns of Magnus by word of mouth, not by name at first but in overhearing a conversation here and a whisper there, and it takes him some time to realize he's already met the man once before, the memory a bit fuzzy due to the number of alcohol drinks he'd consumed at the time.
It takes him a few days more to track him down.
"Ah, at last," he breathes when he notices Magnus at the other end of the bar, his memory not so blurred as to have forgotten those eye. Grabbing his drink, he takes a seat beside the warlock and grins wide. "Magnus Bane, we meet again. This time with much better ambient music, thankfully."
a date with the undead
Feb. 11th, 2016 08:36 pmNerves are not a thing Sirius tends to ever admit he has. In his younger years, this had been due to pure cockiness, but once the war was fully in swing, it came about out of pure necessity.
Honestly, it's ridiculous to be nervous about a date. He never has been as far as he can remember, though his experience which such things is admittedly limited. His "dating" back at Hogwarts generally amounted to choosing one from about a dozen girls to hang off his arm as he stepped into the ball before quickly abandoning them in favor of concocting and enacting various schemes to make James fall face over tit in front of Lily.
And sometimes it meant pretending, but those were much less fun than the balls.
This, however, is a real date at, presumably, a real coffee shop. Sirius is hoping they also serve tea, but will Kieren simply sit with an empty cup?
The shop itself isn't too hard to spot and Sirius is oddly glad to find it largely empty when he steps inside. Kieren is at a table near the back, slumped forward in his rather oversized sweater and jacket, as Sirius is quickly coming to learn is customary. Sirius himself is wearing jeans and a sweater he'd stolen from Harry's closet simply because he liked the look of the fabric. (He has yet to speak a word of this date to Harry so it had been a rather devious theft and he's still not entirely sure how he'll return the garment undetected.)
"Not too awfully late, am I?" he asks, sliding into the seat opposite Kieren, grinning through the flutter in his belly as he rests his elbows on the table.
Honestly, it's ridiculous to be nervous about a date. He never has been as far as he can remember, though his experience which such things is admittedly limited. His "dating" back at Hogwarts generally amounted to choosing one from about a dozen girls to hang off his arm as he stepped into the ball before quickly abandoning them in favor of concocting and enacting various schemes to make James fall face over tit in front of Lily.
And sometimes it meant pretending, but those were much less fun than the balls.
This, however, is a real date at, presumably, a real coffee shop. Sirius is hoping they also serve tea, but will Kieren simply sit with an empty cup?
The shop itself isn't too hard to spot and Sirius is oddly glad to find it largely empty when he steps inside. Kieren is at a table near the back, slumped forward in his rather oversized sweater and jacket, as Sirius is quickly coming to learn is customary. Sirius himself is wearing jeans and a sweater he'd stolen from Harry's closet simply because he liked the look of the fabric. (He has yet to speak a word of this date to Harry so it had been a rather devious theft and he's still not entirely sure how he'll return the garment undetected.)
"Not too awfully late, am I?" he asks, sliding into the seat opposite Kieren, grinning through the flutter in his belly as he rests his elbows on the table.
all hallow's eve
Jan. 21st, 2016 11:40 pmYears ago, Sirius would've considered Hallowe'en one of his favourite holidays. In truth, Sirius enjoys every holiday, more than happy for any excuse available for drinking, feasting and good fun with his friends. But there has always been something special about Hallowe'en, something exciting about the inherent mischief and playful deceit.
Though Sirius has had quite enough deceit lately. Perhaps they're all better off without more, however harmless it may well be.
Scowling at his reflection in the mirror, he banishes thoughts of Remus's secretive behavior from his mind for the time being, and runs a hand through his hair. He'd thought about donning some sort of minimal costume, perhaps using a charm to disguise himself as a Death Eater purely to scare the wits out of dear Peter. But in the end he's gone with a simple, Muggle rockstar sort of look, complete with eyeliner, artfully cropped T. Rex tee, and his favorite leather jacket.
The boots, Sirius thinks, black leather with massive silver buckles, are really what pull the whole thing off.
He mounts his motorbike, whispers a quick disillusionment charm and starts off, flying high above the smoking chimneys of London and out, out, out into the countryside. Peter's hidey hole is actually quite a charming little cottage nestled into the side of a hill in Berkshire outfitted in half a dozen concealment charms to keep it safe from Muggle and Death Eaters alike. It's not exactly Sirius's style, but his friend is hardly living in squalor while he's nestled away.
Sirius lands with a crash, delighting in the bumps and dips under his wheels and the gash he leaves in Peter's front garden. It'll be easy enough to magic away of course, but something about leaving it there for now is so satisfying. He dismounts and gives the seat a light pat before heading to Peter's front door.
After standing upon the stoop for a few moments with no response, Sirius murmurs the password and lets himself in.
"Wormtail?" Sirius calls out as he steps in the front room, frowning when he notes the rather untouched state of the place. "You're not still in bed, are you? It's a holiday, you know. I've brought whiskey!"
Peter has never been the tidy sort, happy to leave his filthy clothes and dishes strewn about, but there isn't so much as a cushion out of place, and the kitchen sink is spotless.
It's after Sirius has checked Peter's bedroom and the small back garden that the unease in his belly boils over. Peter hasn't been in hiding for long, only since Sirius and James agreed to make him the Secret-Keeper. Not even Dumbledore is aware yet and there's absolutely no indication of forced entry or struggle, no sign that Voldemort or his wretched henchmen have taken Peter against his will.
If anything, it appears as though Peter simply… left.
He could've just slipped down to the grocers or is out on a walk, but though Sirius has frequently questioned Peter's intelligence over the years, even he isn't stupid enough to wander about virtually unarmed and unprotected in the middle of a bloody war.
And then he knows. He knows in that instant, as all the blood drains from his face and his body goes cold, he knows the grave mistake he has made.
Gripped with fear, Sirius jumps on his bike and kicks into gear, heart thundering as he soars above the trees, headed west. His hands are shaking, wind whipping at his face, and he nearly falls off the seat the second his tyres hit the ground.
Except--
This isn't Godric's Hollow.
Sirius has only been to Godric's Hollow a time or two before, but even so the buildings are unmistakably wrong. They're harsh and bright, cutting into the sky with jagged edges and dark, imposing windows. And there's snow. In October.
Sirius spins in place, his entire body shaking as he shouts, voice cracking with panic, "James!"
Though Sirius has had quite enough deceit lately. Perhaps they're all better off without more, however harmless it may well be.
Scowling at his reflection in the mirror, he banishes thoughts of Remus's secretive behavior from his mind for the time being, and runs a hand through his hair. He'd thought about donning some sort of minimal costume, perhaps using a charm to disguise himself as a Death Eater purely to scare the wits out of dear Peter. But in the end he's gone with a simple, Muggle rockstar sort of look, complete with eyeliner, artfully cropped T. Rex tee, and his favorite leather jacket.
The boots, Sirius thinks, black leather with massive silver buckles, are really what pull the whole thing off.
He mounts his motorbike, whispers a quick disillusionment charm and starts off, flying high above the smoking chimneys of London and out, out, out into the countryside. Peter's hidey hole is actually quite a charming little cottage nestled into the side of a hill in Berkshire outfitted in half a dozen concealment charms to keep it safe from Muggle and Death Eaters alike. It's not exactly Sirius's style, but his friend is hardly living in squalor while he's nestled away.
Sirius lands with a crash, delighting in the bumps and dips under his wheels and the gash he leaves in Peter's front garden. It'll be easy enough to magic away of course, but something about leaving it there for now is so satisfying. He dismounts and gives the seat a light pat before heading to Peter's front door.
After standing upon the stoop for a few moments with no response, Sirius murmurs the password and lets himself in.
"Wormtail?" Sirius calls out as he steps in the front room, frowning when he notes the rather untouched state of the place. "You're not still in bed, are you? It's a holiday, you know. I've brought whiskey!"
Peter has never been the tidy sort, happy to leave his filthy clothes and dishes strewn about, but there isn't so much as a cushion out of place, and the kitchen sink is spotless.
It's after Sirius has checked Peter's bedroom and the small back garden that the unease in his belly boils over. Peter hasn't been in hiding for long, only since Sirius and James agreed to make him the Secret-Keeper. Not even Dumbledore is aware yet and there's absolutely no indication of forced entry or struggle, no sign that Voldemort or his wretched henchmen have taken Peter against his will.
If anything, it appears as though Peter simply… left.
He could've just slipped down to the grocers or is out on a walk, but though Sirius has frequently questioned Peter's intelligence over the years, even he isn't stupid enough to wander about virtually unarmed and unprotected in the middle of a bloody war.
And then he knows. He knows in that instant, as all the blood drains from his face and his body goes cold, he knows the grave mistake he has made.
Gripped with fear, Sirius jumps on his bike and kicks into gear, heart thundering as he soars above the trees, headed west. His hands are shaking, wind whipping at his face, and he nearly falls off the seat the second his tyres hit the ground.
Except--
This isn't Godric's Hollow.
Sirius has only been to Godric's Hollow a time or two before, but even so the buildings are unmistakably wrong. They're harsh and bright, cutting into the sky with jagged edges and dark, imposing windows. And there's snow. In October.
Sirius spins in place, his entire body shaking as he shouts, voice cracking with panic, "James!"