the brightest stars

the first one to say
siri you old dog will find
no gifts come christmas

( it's distinguished. )

What would you have for your last meal?

I don't think I would have gotten one. The guards at Azkaban weren't the most forgiving wizards and witches on the face of the earth, that's quite for certain. I did eat, of course, while I was there. Sometimes they would give me quite a bit of food. Other times it would be offered as a reward.

'There's a good lad, tell us what you know...smells good, don't it? Yours, if you tell us what you know. Why did you do it?'

Do you have any idea how delicious things smell when you've spent the last few days locked in a dark cell, surrounded by nothing but damp stone and rotting cloth and other unmentionable things? A baked potato covered in all manners of cheese and butter? Steak with mixed vegetables and garlic sauce, salt, spices? Chocolate?

Like heaven.

I don't think I would have gotten a last meal. They would have never killed me. They didn't want to kill me, they wanted me to suffer.

If I had to choose, it would be chocolate. A whole variety of it. Darks and milks and flavored with all manner of fruits and liqueurs and whites, but just...chocolate. Chocolate milk. Chocolate frogs. Chocolate bunnies that you bite their ears off and they melt in your mouth. Dipping chocolate. Baking chocolate. Hot chocolate. I would just want all of it. Who gives a damn if it makes me ill, because I won't have to deal with it later.

Now I want chocolate.

How do you make a living?

Well right now, the stock market is absolute rubbish.

(This however, is what Time-Turners are for.)

The housing market is in a slump as well, and there are no real sporting events going on that I can gamble on (save the baseball playoffs about to get started in the States, or their college 'football' - though why you call it football when you rarely touch the ball with your foot) but I do have a thing for the horses. Lovely animals. Though no really big stakes until next year...

I've never really needed money. Even after getting kicked out the house (though I did leave, but when you get blasted off the tapestry things get a bit messy when it comes to wills and inheritance, and being in prison didn't help either) I had help from a dear uncle of mine.

But work, honestly work? I haven't had to. I am quite content with living off of things I do in my spare time. I have better things to do with my time than spend it leaning over a desk or stack of papers. Remus is back. Teddy is growing up. Harry is here, with me. We can be a proper family. That's living.

I make it how I want to make it (spending time with those I love) by making up for lost time.

Would you make a good spy? Why or why not?

Of course I would make a good spy. I'm a wizard and a bloody good one at that. We have at our disposal an arsenal of charms and spells to change our looks and voice, cloaks that can make us invisible, the ability to appear and disappear out of thin air with nothing but a quiet word and flick of the wrist and wand. The Ministry likes to keep us quiet, naturally, as muggles tend to panic when they hear these things, and you get into registration issues and so on but those are a bunch of rubbish.

We are the world behind the world. There are places and things muggles have never seen and never well. We have our ways to watch and listen. But why would we want to harm the balance? We don't. We aren't evil or horrid people. Not all of us anyway. But I digress, I've gone off on a branch from the topic.

Spy. Yes, I would make a good one. But the important part about being a spy is never to reveal all your secrets. And to make sure you have a bit of flair.

Sirius Black
Harry Potter

I am just that damn good, thank you.

note to self:

next time, pick farm without psychopathic shotgun wielding bastard who APPARENTLY doesn't understand that when a big black dog comes prowling he's really just interested in one of your sheep and not his kids.

(i don't eat babies. though suppose the prophet would like to write different these days.)

i got to thinking. war's over. great. people are buried. kids. too many fuckin' kids. families. you know i sat at all those funerals. not me. the grim. s'what we're supposed to do. protect hallowed ground. supposed to protect those kids. i watched them bury my little cousin. i watched them bury moony. i sat at all their damn funerals and i...

i fucked up. should've been there sooner. the kinda fuckin' grim am i.

shite. i'm drunk. i'm bleedin' fucking drunk and i'm bleedin' and the fucker hit one of my tats and you know i think i'm gonna go back tomorrow...today later...and eat TWO of his sheep just cause the fucker deserves it.

tough night. sorry. better tomorrow. promise.

Ten songs that remind you of someone, and why you picked them.

( songs under here )

So I log in and that damn daily question they've always got up pops up, right smack in my face.

Do you miss anyone right now? What past experiences with this person, or these persons, make it easy for you to miss them?

But I'll get to that in a moment.

We took Teddy to the beach the other afternoon. Harry, myself, and Andromeda, and we made sure to take lots of photographs (he's really got his mum's hair), feed the lad his father's favorite type of ice cream (double chocolate), and I had a moment of realization while watching Harry take him out to the edge of the water to stand in the surf bubbles.

I don't want to go into it, really, but it was something that made me think.

Anyways, missing people. I could write a list of names and we'd be here for hours. I think I'll settle for a blanket statement.

I miss the Order.

Why? Because we fought for each other. We stood against the Dark Lord and a great many of us fell but we were there for each other. We were friends. Family, practically. We were the Order of the Phoenix.

Like I said, I could go on. I won't.



On another note, I've no bloody idea what to buy a one year old girl as a birthday gift.

The last one year old I bought something for wasn't exactly your normal tot either, and Oz, I don't think a charmed to go a-bit-faster-than-usual toy broom would be something the little one's mum would appreciate....

jail cell

[After reading this lovely prompt response Sirius felt the need to respond himself. Set after Sirius wakes up and discovers the letter. The Remus mentioned is r_moony and the prompt/letter is visible only to him.]


( All the lights on and you are alive, but you can't point the way to your heart. So sublime, when the stars are aligned, but you don't know, you don't know the greatness you are. Cause blue eyes, you are destiny's scene, cause blue eyes, I just wanna be the one... )

( Answer/image under here. )

Write about a time that you were the bearer of bad news.

If the table in the dining room at Number 12 Grimmauld Place could talk, it could tell stories beyond the most wild dreams of anyone's imagination. Tales of dinners, drinks, and holiday parties. Laughter and stolen kisses, and maybe even a shag or two. Of late nights spent planning, pouring over parchment. Secrets and lies.

Elfwine and firewhiskey spilled by careless, shaking hands.

The weight of a fallen member of the Order, of tears shed during wakes. There are names carved into the surface. Dates. Nicks and dings that nobody ever bothered to repair. We didn't see the need, after all, it was just another piece of the puzzle, part of the history. Merlin knows I've spent enough nights sitting alone in the dark, fingertips resting on the surface, listening to the the ghosts talk.

And oh, the stories it tells.

( Fear makes people do terrible things. )

So really, bad news, while it was indeed bad news, was good news in a way.

Sirius Black
Harry Potter

iphone. shuffle. lyrics. song for the month. etc.

( Under here. )


...not even going to get into cross species identif...iden...fuck i'm not that type of furry.

k so my IPHONE is the coolest fuckin thing ever right/

cause i got lmfao whats her name missy elliot and she def runs this and it's a totally fitting song cause lmfao tipseeeee an i feel good

i do't have curves but i feel good an i feel good and wE RUN THIS SHIT

boys may've beat me in shotz but fuckit when your're deadish yur earsier to get drunk and tipsy an i feel good. no stripper tho butt that's okay cuz we're got next year for stripperz cause he'll be 20. TWENTY my boy's growin up fuking fast. remember when he was just a wee lad with the broom an catching that bloody cat and rolmao so funny.

hatecats. cept lions cause i am one

gRYFFINDORRRRRRRRRRR represent

hahahahahah

sweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet carrrolineeeee touchin me touchin youuuuuu

i wanna put on a fucking top hat and dance with a malfoy pimp cane now cept that sumbitch don't touch by godson LMAO i slugged him so hard was nice to get that shot in fore i...yeah aint going there thanks

and whe i hurt
hurting runs off my shoulders
how can i urt whent i'm holding you

words to fucking live by.

ladies and gentlemean and wiszards and witches, i give u neil diamoned.

goodnight

Downstairs, in the kitchen and visible from the doorway there is a cake on the table. But not just any cake. This is a Sirius Black masterpiece edition birthday cake made special for his godson with NO MAGIC involved whatsoever.



There is also a small stack of boxes. Giftwrapped, of course, and NO MAGIC was involved. Just a lot of scotch tape.

This, this, these, as well as an envelope with details regarding dinner reservations for two at The Ivy.

Along with a a card which reads:

Thought this was hilarious when I was in that...Hallmark or...whatever muggle shop it was. Happy Birthday, Harry. The reservation is for whenever you and Ginny would like to go, and the tab's on me.

Love, Sirius

He'd told his godson that he was taking the evening to go out, and he knew that Harry would understand his need for space. The last week had been interesting. He'd gone out and bought a tobacco farm in rural North Carolina, a new dirtbike, and had complained about not having a high enough reward on his head for his capture when he'd first escaped Azkaban.

It was simple.

He was a Black. And while Sirius had long since gotten over the pureblood ideals and elitism, there were still parts of his upbringing that clung to him, even after over a decade in prison. One of those was the idea of pride. And the fact that Sirius didn't take well to the fact that he'd not been worth much.

(Maybe they had passed him off as already too crazy to fight back. Maybe they had figured he had drowned in the North Sea while making his escape. Maybe this, maybe that.)

The farm had been a show of his financial power. The dirtbike had been a show of his youthful nature. The complaining...well that had just been complaining.

But his night out was something more.

( The Black family had always had interest in the Dark Arts. There were rooms in the family home at Grimmauld that you just didn't go into unless you were ready to work your way through wards and charms. Books in the attic that shouldn't be opened by the wrong hands. Family curses and spells passed down through generations. The Ministry always knew it, but there was nothing they could do. The Black family was the family (along with the Malfoy family) in the wizarding world. Pureblood. Elite. Untouchable. )

One year ago, today, Sirius responded to a comment in Theatrical Fen and in doing so, I found myself one of the most incredible writing partners someone could ask for.

RP is a game, yes, but sometimes people you meet through the game come along and change your life for the better. Ashy is one of those people, and I wouldn't want to imagine what the last year would have been like if not for our shared phone calls, amusing as hell AIM conversations, awesome threads and storylines in various communities, and just all around someone who was (and still is) there for me when I need anything, be it RP/writing related or in Real Life happenings.

I'm lucky, and I know that, and I just wanted to take a moment to mention it where everyone could see it.

(And well, Sirius is a big mushball when it comes to his godson.)

Here's to many more years of fun!!

It's amazing the things you find on the internet, like the following handy little website:

[wizard-muggle currency converter]



I'm also a bit offended to find that the reward for my arrest was only £50,000.

Sirius took the free ColorQuiz.com personality test! "Desires a tranquil, peaceful state of harmony offe..." Click here to read the rest of the results.

I don't know. I'm in a bit of an odd mood lately so it might be a bit off?

I just had dinner with a lovely couple at their home. Cindy makes the best coffee, really.

Also, I just bought myself another motorbike. This one is for off-road rather than cruising. It's red.

Oh, and I bought a square mile of property two hours south of Raleigh. Picture:

( Under here. )

I sign final paperwork with the attorneys on Friday.

After an amusing few conversations with a few fellow muns I felt the need to write this. Sirius will post about it soon for all muses to know about. He's quite the entrepreneur when it comes to things he wants to get his hands on but when it comes to blending in as a muggle, well, that's where the fun starts at times.

Outside of Bladenboro, North Carolina

It was surprisingly easy to walk into a motorcycle and ATV dealer in Raleigh and inform the man behind the counter that he was interested in a street legal, yet still off-road capable motorcycle. Sirius had expected it to be more difficult, but then again, when you were paying with cold, hard, American cash, people tended to make things easy. One motorcycle (Honda XR650L, in what he was pleased to find was Gryffindor Red) with a helmet thrown in for measure, and he was on his way south.

His iPhone was tucked into his jacket and the headphones snug in his ears beneath the helmet. Sure he could have brought his own bike, but that one, while it could fly, wasn't really built for romping down dirt roads. Not that there were dirt roads.

Yet.

( No real warnings. Except for thieving from Severus Snape's playlist, butchering of the english language, reckless driving, bribing a police officer, and unlawful use of magic. Oh, and smoking will give you cancer. Unless you're already dead, of course. Handy thing, that. )