Sirius Black

[ORDERLY FOLK, ET AL]

THE JONES, THEY'RE BEING HELD IN MULCIBER'S PLACE
IT'S ABOUT BLOODY TIME WE SAVED THEIR ARSES!


(OOC Note: Let's pretend this is backdated to right after when Regulus fessed up.)

Great sunshine-filled times, these are.

Here's food for thought or whatever nonsensical phrase Remus would use instead of talking like a normal person: How big of a tit do you have to be to set fire to the GREATEST bakery in Diagon?

Cads and tits, the lot of them.

FINALLY SOME GOOD BLOODY NEWS EVERYBODY!

JAMES IS AWAKE!!!


[Fabian]
Looks like I'll be able to use that key soon.

Lily woke up.

[Order]

I forced made the BASTARDS Healers tell me what's going
James, Lily, and Dedalus - all three of them are in comas
they don't know if when they'll wake up


I'll cover their patrol shifts.
St. Mungo's is where I'll be if you need me.

It's my birthday, ladies and chaps!! The momentous occasion of the anniversary of my entrance into this world isn't a national holiday yet so I still have training and all that, but I expect to have a good evening and an even better weekend.

Remus may look and encourage that stereotype that he's the quiet bookish bloke who's boring and unassuming, but it's all a lie let me tell all of you. I decided to myself, hey why not borrow one of his books for a bit of late night reading because I haven't read anything in a long time and so I nick a book from his collection that he dusts like dusting is going out of style and of course I pilfer this book thinking NAKED LUNCH has to be a good book because of the title alone. But turns out it's not just any good ordinary book you'd use to keep the table from rocking.

It makes absolutely no sense and I think this bloke who wrote it had to be licking wet paint and taking all sorts of muggle junk when he wrote it but it's amazing once you really get into it.

Now I know just what sorts of literature our Remus has been keeping. I'm proud of him, I am. I want to be this William Burroughs bloke when I grow up but then I kind of don't want to run into any Mugwumps. If you're wondering what a Mugwump is, picture if you will the sprogs of Severus Snape and Bellatrix Lestrange. Sorry if you were eating anything before I put those mental images in your minds.

[Marauders]
James - how's Lily holding up?
/end hex

[Fabian]
Let's go somewhere.
/end hex

Today's the day, amigos.

Let this day in history be burned in your memory. Today, a Wednesday, a hump day, the twenty fourth of June, is the glorious day I will have my beloved.

Before Lily chides me, YES, I've got the provisional license this morning even though I sent for it ages ago. No, I'm not going to kill myself (terribly sorry Lestrange, Snape, & co).

Either I have a secret admirer who just so happens to be very wealthy and what's more, somehow aware I want a motorbike, or PETER IGNATIUS PETTIGREW is out of his blinking mind.

I'm so close. If Remus weren't a stubborn git about making certain I eat, I'd be even closer to having The Most Beautiful Gel.

Anyone need a helping hand for hire? Before you ask, Rosier, I don't mean that kind, either. You already have your own two hands for that.


Marauderly Eyes Only
Oi, are we really going to have Dungy showing us up? I'm ashamed of us, mates.


Also, Petey, I've decided we're meeting for drinks Friday night. No buts, ifs, or excuses. James, if you're not too busy with the merry married life and all the MML entails, permission granted to join us.

Ye blessed gods, I know what I want more than anything, and I do mean anything, in this whole forsaken planet. I'm pining and yearning so badly I ache.

She's the most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes on.

(Marauderly eyes only)
Is it too soon to pull an office prank? Or would it be bad-timing with what happened yestermorn? I was going to pull something yesterday to celebrate our favourite holiday, but then that scuffle happened that Frank mentioned and I don't think the Auror-folks would have taken too kindly to it.

My new objective is to start off simple. Less ambitious, less chance of getting caught. Yay or nay on making Moody's hair resemble a flashing colour wheel. Cast your ballots.

Oh and.. OH! GUESS WHAT?

On second thought, don't because I can't wait. I need to tell you gents now. Right now.

Moody said I'm going to learn how to use muggle weaponry. Like rifles and maybe these things called nun-chucks (things you chuck at nuns?) and other cool things that are top classified things with red-level clearance and yellow tape around the perimeter.

Tell me that isn't hip to your jive. I dare you.



( Fabian )

(FRIENDS OF REMUS)
OI YOU LOT, IT'S REMUS LUPIN'S NINETEENTH (..or is it the twentieth?) BIRTHDAY!!

I hope none of you forgot. Even in the midst of having my bollocks snipped off and served to me on a plate Auror training, I didn't!


(JAMES)
Prongs, be a good pal and remind me again.. WHY DIDN'T WE PLAN A BIG BASH WHICH INVOLVES COPIOUS AMOUNTS OF ALCOHOL AND ENTERTAINMENT OF THE SCANTILY CLAD FEMALE VARIETY?!

We're going to have to swing this one, mate. This is unacceptable. I'm ashamed of us.

ATTN WANKERS WHO DOUBTED SIRIUS BLACK: You're looking at Moody's next protege.


Celebrations are in order!!!

Application's all turned in. Now I twiddle my thumbs and wait, yeah? Yeah.


Never liked waiting.



( warded to Andromeda )

(Warded for Friendly Eyes Only)

I'm tired of being in this bloody bed. I think the mediwitches are keeping me longer than necessary on purpose. The naughty nurses want to continue giving me sponge baths.

I'm going to go bonkers if I'm kept in here a day longer.



( Private Thoughts )

To what profession does a bloke who is: brilliant, ridiculously good-looking, charismatic, generally affable, and talented in a variety of skills apply himself to? Not everyone wants to faff around and live off daddy's money (see: Evan Rosier).

Been considering signing up for Auror-training. Plunging into the world of rock 'n roll also has its merits. Glitter and leather and potions of the illicit variety beckon.

Ho hum.

(Warded from the eyes of everyone and anyone Sirius would refer to as a: prat, prick, twat, pillock, arse, berk, git, slimy beak-nosed twit, toerag, or an imbecile.)


Oi you lot!

The couch burning ceremony shall commence on the eve of Saturday, which is to say Friday. I'll be providing the couch, myself, and firewhiskey. Feel free to contribute something yourselves.

Some fun is in order, methinks.

I have absolutely sound reason to suspect my couch is devouring my socks. Everytime I wake up from a nap, I'm missing a sock. You would think the bugger would take both, seize and consume in pairs, but of course not because that would make some semblance of sense wouldn't it. Instead, I'm left with mismatched pairs of socks. White and brown, black and green, striped and no stripes.

This is what I get for trusting any piece of furniture that comes from the likes of Mundungus Fletcher. I didn't think much of it when he seemed so jolly relieved to be rid of it, thought he was pleased about having some gold jingling in his pockets. Now I see where I've so wrongly erred.

So. Who needs a couch? Better yet, who wants to BURN a couch? We can toast things over it. Sing songs. Dance. I'm open to suggestions.

( Rely a bit too heavily on alcohol and irony. Get clobbered on by courtesy, in love with love, and lousy poetry. )