text & voice

[doggedly]

q w e r t y u i o p
a s d f g h j k l
z x c v b n m

>:)

[All right, yes, voice, now (but first he laughs, because brilliant--no matter what the hell he knows about the future, about what's here and the possibility of what could happen here; about who is here and what that, exactly, could mean--well, it's not like Sirius can't be serious. But he's had time to ingest it all, so now there's this--):]

Yeah. Is it muggles or gods that invented little bracelets that you can write with? Because it's genius. Huge time-saver. Top marks to the man who came up with this, this is a bit of technology I can get behind. It's these, micro-waves, and turntables.

All right, but I'm going to briefly add to the questions that have been endlessly asked. I'm Sirius Black, and I want to know: is the main form of entertainment around here seriously to conduct surveys?

Because you lot are badly in need of amusement, if that's what you consider to be fun. Or are these bracelets just more of a notice board than anything else? It's all about cooking and job offers and survey questions, it's half lonely hearts adverts and half wanted ads and half girl's magazine.

Since we aren't doing any fighting and your little earthquake seems mostly settled--I've got something of a counter-offer to cure your boredom, Asgard: a scavenger hunt. I've a list of things, and whoever gets me the most of these things, I will give him a reward. Or her, I s'ppose, should a girl be clever enough. [ps, this is not a shopping list.] Quills ready, 'cos here goes: six large fireworks, one package of small fireworks, a birthday card, one of those thingers on the stick that you whirl around and around and it makes a noise like a really loud zip--er, right, an inkwell with ink in it, please--fourteen eggs, a box of matches, and a book.

Any book.

All right, that's all! Prizes will be distributed to the one who comes out on top, but I'm not telling you what the prize is, you'll have to earn it to find out. Entertain yourselves! [And Sirius, but that goes without saying.] Ready, set--go to!

[And he's nearly done, but oh, hang on, one last thing--] Also, forgot to mention, James Potter is forbidden from playing. Not allowed. Anyone sees him collecting objects and reports him gets an extra prize. Sit this one out, Prongsie, that's an order. All right, now go to.

Comments

iggy doesn't even know what html IS

[theshabbiestofmen]

She's not my anything-- but she rather is, isn't she? Far cleverer than you, so there you go, that's about where you rank.

aw ye

[doggedly]

[He staggers back a bit, clutching at his heart.]

Remus.

[theshabbiestofmen]

I don't take it back.

[doggedly]

Not even if I punch you? How can anyone be cleverer than I am, I'm your best mate. One of, anyways. You're meant to think the world of me. I think the world of you.

[He sighs, dejected and injured.]

This is what girls do to us, mate.

[theshabbiestofmen]

You don't think the world of me. You barely think a small country of me.

[doggedly]

Don't tell me what I think, please. Unless you've Legilimens'd me. Have you Legilimens'd me without me knowing about it, Moony, 'cos that would be really rude if you did. You know I'm an open book to you--and do try to contain your excitement, please, I know what the phrase open book does to you.

[theshabbiestofmen]

Someday I'm going to thump you, and it's going to be quite satisfying.

[doggedly]

Hah. You've been saying that since first year, nearly, and it's never happened.

[He leans his shoulder against Remus', committing some of his weight to him.]

Dear Moony.

[theshabbiestofmen]

Stop-- I'm not your dear anything, stop--

[He shifts, though, bearing his weight with a huff.]

[doggedly]

Dear, dear Moony-- dear prefect, forever a prefect, even outside of Hogwarts--

[He drapes an arm around Remus' shoulders now, tugging him in close.]

Where would we be without you.

[theshabbiestofmen]

Without any sort of moral guidance whatsoever, I have no doubt. Well, actually, James has Lily now, doesn't he? So it's just you and I, and god help me now that it's just you to contend with.

[doggedly]

God help you? God help me, that means your efforts have a laser focus to them--all concentrated on me.

[He grins, fearless.]

S'ppose that means I'll have to double my efforts.

[theshabbiestofmen]

It does not. It means you ought to calm down so I don't have to spend all my time running after you.

[doggedly]

D'you really think that's likely to happen? I mean, really.

[theshabbiestofmen]

It will, or I'll leave you.

[doggedly]

You wouldn't.

[He smiles, sunnily, over at Remus, and leans his shoulder against his once more.]

I have absolute confidence that you wouldn't, because, again: you've made similar threats since first year, and look where we are now. I don't mean that in regards to location, by the way, there's no way we could've predicted we'd end up... here.

[theshabbiestofmen]

I just-- oh, get off, will you, stop touching me and giving me that look and tell me what this stupid scavenger hunt is all about, will you?

[doggedly]

But Remus...

[He leans against him a moment longer, pressing quite close--and then he relents, laughing.]

It's for a bomb, obviously.

[Only Sirius Black could say it's for a bomb, obviously, and have that come out nearly as a logical thing to have said. Like yes, obviously. A bomb. What else. Pass the salt, please.]

[theshabbiestofmen]

[He snorts at first, because of course that's a joke-- but when Sirius doesn't continue, Remus' smile fades a little.]

. . . what?

[doggedly]

[Sirius keeps up his winning smile.]

'Course, it's rudimentary at best, but given the supplies I've got on hand, I think it'll be a fair job.

[theshabbiestofmen]

What.

[doggedly]

What?

[theshabbiestofmen]

Don't you play innocent with me, Sirius Black, what the hell are you doing!

[doggedly]

Entertaining myself! You know it's bad for me to be unentertained. Idle hands, et cetera.

[theshabbiestofmen]

A bomb is not entertainment! A bomb is a bloody weapon!