.waxing.crescent. {Event: Shadows}
[ video ]
[forge held up in one hand. Turned to show the view out the window. Turned once more in a pan around the room. Finishes with a glimpse of Lupin seated, facing the door. He speaks into the forge as if it were a handset.]
I see what's happening. Don't bother with intermediaries. You're welcome to find me. I'm waiting.
Just to warn you: I believe none of it. And I'm armed.
[snaps it off]
[ action ]
[ooc: so remember how I said I'd sit out of Shadows? Yeah, what a fool I was! As I was roaming last week, one of the couches I crashed upon belonged to my dear friend lareinenoire, who's had a certain muse for years… there may have been some scribbling and agreeing to NPC. However, I didn't want that to supersede pursuing one of the most marvelous offers and plans I received within Scorched! If the cheap narrative device can be pardoned, this is my way of squishing in both. red = lareinenoire, blue = me. Official Shadow!NPC by The Magnificent Amber yet to come.]
Mr Moony presents an eyeroll to himself and admonishes, as per usual, for abandoning all reason, jumping at shadows.
Blank parchment. Like scraps everywhere at the digging site.
Mr Prongs disagrees with Mr Moony. Shadows are more dangerous than you think.
There's a dumbfoundingly simple way to test it.
Mr Padfoot wishes to point out that a lack of reason is perhaps underrated.
Is that why he hadn't tried it yet?
Mr Wormtail hazards to question whether reason was ever there at all.
Do not trust this place. Do not imagine you understand or can predict it. Do not ever ever lower your guard.
(Passing under the foggy streetlamp where she stabbed him in the neck. Doesn't give it a glance.)
Don't for a moment fancy it home.
So stop waiting for the ones who would make it so.
He's standing, as always, in front of the Door, the parchment crushed in his hand. He stares angrily through the archway, as if meeting Anatole's eyes. If there's truth to be had you will- He unfurled the parchment with a snap; with another his wand was in his hand.
Lily's wand was glowing, barely restrained, as he lowered its tip to the parchment.
Lupin said hoarsely, "I solemnly swear-"
"-that I am up to no good." The voice-familiar, achingly so-was coming from behind him, but he almost couldn't bear to turn. Do not trust this place. "'Tis now the very witching hour of night, when churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out contagion to the world." A pause, studied as any actor's. "Or perhaps Macbeth would be more appropriate."
Lupin had already spun aboutface and had his wand aimed between the other man's eyes.
"Oh, Moony." Hands in his pockets, Sirius Black gave him a rueful smile. "I see you've taken Mad-Eye's advice to heart. Constant vigilance, et al." That was when Lupin suddenly realized what was different-the Sirius looking at him was young. Too young.
No other part of him moving, wand staying just exactly where it was, Lupin raised an eyebrow and the Marauder's Map; holding it out toward Sirius.
Sirius held up both his hands, empty. "Do you think they allow wands in Azkaban, Moony?"
Something had shifted, imperceptibly, in Sirius's face, dark circles blooming beneath his eyes.
Remus could get no paler. Not taking his eyes off the man, Lupin tapped the wand to the map and muttered, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." He glanced at the map as his wand snapped back to cover Sirius.
The familiar lines of Hogwarts swum to the surface. Expected and useless. …But there: an inset in the upper right corner, never there before and shouldn't be there now. A door on a mound, with two name-banners hovered before it.
Lupin, very slowly, lowered the wand. "What are you doing here?"
Sirius shrugged. "Do you know why you're here, Moony?"
"I died," said Remus. "…of course I don't."
"Is that where this is?" Sirius looked round with a thoughtful frown. "I thought the door to the Underworld was just a story."
Enough information up front that a security question was unnecessary, the right name on the Map that couldn't be fooled by Polyjuice or transfiguration, and now a reason for the absence of the usual bewilderment… and if anyone would take something like this with outward calm, it would be him…
One more lock dangerously snapped in Remus's chest- No, no nono. The Map should only show Hogwarts. The timelines were telescopingly wrong: Sirius simultaneously young, at Azkaban, and dead.
Lupin looked into his eyes; pleadingly, "I can't do this again." Finally says it:
"Sirius-"
[The pain in his chest woke him up.
Lupin looked down. He was still seated in the chair beside the window, facing the front door. In his lap were (no Map) his wand and forge, over which he'd just sent the invitation, declaration of disbelief, into the void.
-Then of course, he heard a footfall on the stair outside. Even as he stood with his wand already aimed for the opening of the door, he can't tell whether or not he called that name aloud.]
[forge held up in one hand. Turned to show the view out the window. Turned once more in a pan around the room. Finishes with a glimpse of Lupin seated, facing the door. He speaks into the forge as if it were a handset.]
I see what's happening. Don't bother with intermediaries. You're welcome to find me. I'm waiting.
Just to warn you: I believe none of it. And I'm armed.
[snaps it off]
[ action ]
[ooc: so remember how I said I'd sit out of Shadows? Yeah, what a fool I was! As I was roaming last week, one of the couches I crashed upon belonged to my dear friend lareinenoire, who's had a certain muse for years… there may have been some scribbling and agreeing to NPC. However, I didn't want that to supersede pursuing one of the most marvelous offers and plans I received within Scorched! If the cheap narrative device can be pardoned, this is my way of squishing in both. red = lareinenoire, blue = me. Official Shadow!NPC by The Magnificent Amber yet to come.]
Mr Moony presents an eyeroll to himself and admonishes, as per usual, for abandoning all reason, jumping at shadows.
Blank parchment. Like scraps everywhere at the digging site.
Mr Prongs disagrees with Mr Moony. Shadows are more dangerous than you think.
There's a dumbfoundingly simple way to test it.
Mr Padfoot wishes to point out that a lack of reason is perhaps underrated.
Is that why he hadn't tried it yet?
Mr Wormtail hazards to question whether reason was ever there at all.
Do not trust this place. Do not imagine you understand or can predict it. Do not ever ever lower your guard.
(Passing under the foggy streetlamp where she stabbed him in the neck. Doesn't give it a glance.)
Don't for a moment fancy it home.
So stop waiting for the ones who would make it so.
He's standing, as always, in front of the Door, the parchment crushed in his hand. He stares angrily through the archway, as if meeting Anatole's eyes. If there's truth to be had you will- He unfurled the parchment with a snap; with another his wand was in his hand.
Lily's wand was glowing, barely restrained, as he lowered its tip to the parchment.
Lupin said hoarsely, "I solemnly swear-"
"-that I am up to no good." The voice-familiar, achingly so-was coming from behind him, but he almost couldn't bear to turn. Do not trust this place. "'Tis now the very witching hour of night, when churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out contagion to the world." A pause, studied as any actor's. "Or perhaps Macbeth would be more appropriate."
Lupin had already spun aboutface and had his wand aimed between the other man's eyes.
"Oh, Moony." Hands in his pockets, Sirius Black gave him a rueful smile. "I see you've taken Mad-Eye's advice to heart. Constant vigilance, et al." That was when Lupin suddenly realized what was different-the Sirius looking at him was young. Too young.
No other part of him moving, wand staying just exactly where it was, Lupin raised an eyebrow and the Marauder's Map; holding it out toward Sirius.
Sirius held up both his hands, empty. "Do you think they allow wands in Azkaban, Moony?"
Something had shifted, imperceptibly, in Sirius's face, dark circles blooming beneath his eyes.
Remus could get no paler. Not taking his eyes off the man, Lupin tapped the wand to the map and muttered, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good." He glanced at the map as his wand snapped back to cover Sirius.
The familiar lines of Hogwarts swum to the surface. Expected and useless. …But there: an inset in the upper right corner, never there before and shouldn't be there now. A door on a mound, with two name-banners hovered before it.
Lupin, very slowly, lowered the wand. "What are you doing here?"
Sirius shrugged. "Do you know why you're here, Moony?"
"I died," said Remus. "…of course I don't."
"Is that where this is?" Sirius looked round with a thoughtful frown. "I thought the door to the Underworld was just a story."
Enough information up front that a security question was unnecessary, the right name on the Map that couldn't be fooled by Polyjuice or transfiguration, and now a reason for the absence of the usual bewilderment… and if anyone would take something like this with outward calm, it would be him…
One more lock dangerously snapped in Remus's chest- No, no nono. The Map should only show Hogwarts. The timelines were telescopingly wrong: Sirius simultaneously young, at Azkaban, and dead.
Lupin looked into his eyes; pleadingly, "I can't do this again." Finally says it:
"Sirius-"
[The pain in his chest woke him up.
Lupin looked down. He was still seated in the chair beside the window, facing the front door. In his lap were (no Map) his wand and forge, over which he'd just sent the invitation, declaration of disbelief, into the void.
-Then of course, he heard a footfall on the stair outside. Even as he stood with his wand already aimed for the opening of the door, he can't tell whether or not he called that name aloud.]