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capeandcowl2010-11-07 12:43 am
thelionharted.livejournal.com) wrote in capeandcowl2010-11-07 12:43 am
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[video]
[The video opens on a close up of a messy head of black hair, along with a pair of brown eyes and glasses staring fascinated at the camera, grinning broadly.]
This thing is brilliant! On my way to detention with Filch, then I end up here? I’ll take that any day. Figuring out Muggle contraptions is loads more fun than polishing trophies for the five hundred and eleventh time. Though I suppose he could have had something more evil in mind, he had a suspciously creepy smile when I saw him last time. [He pulls the camera back and tugs at his dogtags thoughtfully, then runs a hand through his hair, which just serves to make it even messier.]
Can’t say I’ve ever ended up in America before, and I can’t apparate yet, so I s’pose ...[There’s a little pause.] I don’t suppose there are any wizards here? Or anyone that knows how to get me back to Hogwarts?
This thing is brilliant! On my way to detention with Filch, then I end up here? I’ll take that any day. Figuring out Muggle contraptions is loads more fun than polishing trophies for the five hundred and eleventh time. Though I suppose he could have had something more evil in mind, he had a suspciously creepy smile when I saw him last time. [He pulls the camera back and tugs at his dogtags thoughtfully, then runs a hand through his hair, which just serves to make it even messier.]
Can’t say I’ve ever ended up in America before, and I can’t apparate yet, so I s’pose ...[There’s a little pause.] I don’t suppose there are any wizards here? Or anyone that knows how to get me back to Hogwarts?
[Permaction :B ]
SHHHH D'you want to wake up the whole house? Bluffles'll kill me if he knows I was-
[The small choking sound you just heard was Sirius processing that the thing that he was constantly missing, that voice that he was always waiting to hear, so badly that his head had started to produce for him, was in fact not coming from inside his head. (You'd think the pillow would have clued him in, but such things are so much a part of his dialogue with his best friend that it had been included.)
[The only logical response Sirius has to this is to throw himself bodily onto James and attempt to break all of his bones. Presumably in an effort to ensure that he will be incapable of leaving.]
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[James is shoving at him, however ineffectually, and his face is pretty much set on Permanent Grin, so it's a fair bet this shoving match will at some point turn into a hug of some kind. Right now, though, he's just giving Sirius pitiful looks and squirming.]
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Oh Merlin it's actually you!
[He ends up with his face buried in James's neck and his arms locked around James's ribcage and Sirius might smell like dog but James smells like James, and not all the squirming in the world will avail him. But at least Sirius no longer seems to be trying to cripple him.]
Don't think I've forgiven you, for not being you last time.
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Of course it's me, would I be a hallucination?
[There is still squirming happening, however, but gradually it turns into a hug, with James still grinning like a madman.]
Right, you've finally gone round the bend. What in Merlin's beard are you on about?
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[He huffs a sigh and relaxes, but Hug Time is continuing. As is James Potter Is My Mattress Time. It takes him a little while to answer, though, as his initial response ('I have been pining for you, soul brother, that's what') is not something you say unless you want to be called girls names for the rest of your life.]
Your son is a real chip off the old block. Gave me quite a turn, didn't he?
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[He gives Sirius a little poke, but yes, Hug Time is quite nice and Sirius is rather comfy, even if he is on top of James.]
...What the hell, Pads? Clearly you've been driven mad with pining in my absence. Or too many puddings. I'm not even old enough to have a son, you know that.
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Technically that's not true, for one thing, even if it is logistically impossible what with all the having nothing to do with you all females studiously practice.
However, my keen powers of deduction tell me that you haven't met Harry yet, have you?
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Well, not old enough to have a son that talks properly, alright?
You're bloody brilliant, you are. [Well, he has. Just doesn't know it yet.]
That...icon. IT'S PLATONIC SNUGGLING, SHEESH.
Speaking of, so Moony's old now, right? So we know, therefore, that the teleporting thing takes people from different times, yes? So he's basically old enough to be our dad, see? And naturally where he's from we are old enough to be dads, follow? Well congratulations, Prongsie, you are one. Will be one. Healthy, bouncy baby boy name of Harry, and the Porter grabbed him too, when he was 18. Nice lad, bit shy, probably just overwhelmed at his sudden circumstances, completely understandable, considering. Showed up in Auror's robes and all, quite dashing, testament to the love of adventure and daring-do intrinsic to your bloodline.
[The snuggling comes with babbling, of course. Silence will come soon, however, as this is Sirius's sleepy sort of babble, and James is very comfortable, as well as very comforting.]
WHATEVER I have no Harry icons ;_;
Hnf. He said I was a legend, which, of course, stands to reason, but he didn't mention anything about a kid. I s'pose I'll meet him eventually, I had better, anyway. Need to see if he's doing the Potter name proud and all, et cetera.
D'y'know, when I got here I was s'posed to be going to detention? Rather convenient, didn't have to polish any sort of trophies at all.
Fanservice, fanservice, fanservice. ;)
Apparently I've been here before. When I was older. So I'm a legend in two realities, ha! When they give me a trophy for it, [yaaaawn] you shall be allowed to polish it.
Clearly I need to hunt down more Shoebox related James icons.
Yes, right, your mum was your mum. [There's another hug, briefly, and then:]
'M not polishing anything of yours or on you, mate. Sorry.
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[And with these illustrious words, Sirius Black falls asleep. He will wake up with his face more or less buried in James Potter's armpit, a decision he will regret keenly in the morning, but these are the small prices we pay for the treasure of friends regained.]
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