DECEMBER TEST DRIVE

[nukeoleptic]

THE TEST DRIVE MEME

• Got a character you're thinking of reserving/apping this round? PUT THEM HERE! • Threads here can count as your third person sample! • Comment with your character's name and canon! • This is open to everyone! Also, test drivers can tag other test drivers. :) • Make up your own scenario or have them walk into all the doors or leave it blank for others to do it for you! Reserves are here, and open on November 24th at 12:01AM CST. Application information (including the list of pending apps) is here, and they open on December 1st at 12:01AM CST. OPTIONAL SCENARIO: After your character receives his or her bracelet and the run-down from the faceless maids in the castle, they walk out to find the city blanketed with snow and in the middle of what seems to be a snowball war organized by the Native children! Be careful on your way to your Welcome House: snowballs are flying, and these groups of giggling kids don't seem to care who gets caught in the crossfire. Make sure to have fun, and as always, feel free to hit the mods or players up with any questions you might have! ♥

Comments

mssr. padfoot (aka s. black) || harry potter and the various nouns

[doggedly]

[Sirius is not necessarily in a good mood. He's in a fair mood. He'd be in a better mood if he had his wand, but he doesn't, and he feels really strange when he remembers that fact. He doesn't have his wand, and he doesn't have magic. For someone that's grown up in magic--and in is really the only word for it, because it was in him and around him, everything sort of clicking along, made smooth by magic, that's a pureblood childhood; even if he hates nearly everything about it, he couldn't ever hate magic--

Anyway, he's not in the best of moods. And he's got snow in his hair, because there were these idiotic kids throwing snowballs at each other, which--all right, so Sirius is usually among those idiotic kids, or at least he'd usually give as good as he got, with regards to snowball fights. But he'd gone for his wand, first, to enchant the snowball to fly back at them, and then right, this isn't Hogwarts, and right, he doesn't have his wand.

And then he'd gotten cuffed by a snowball, and there was snow in his hair, and--this is going to be better when he finds James. When, right, not if, because James has got to be here somewhere. James is always here somewhere, and possibly responsible for some part of this, and Sirius is going to put snow down the back of his shirt. And then... solve the magic problem.

Anyway. So he's not in a bad mood. He's just sitting on low wall in a part somewhere, making some of his own snowballs, because what better way to get over this semi bad mood than chucking snowballs at people. Starting with these kids, and moving on to strangers. And Sirius Black knows how to make snowballs, with little bits of ice in the center, so they're extra hard and sting a little bit. He's not malicious. Or, well, maybe just a little, but only because of his semi bad mood. Sorry in advance if you get hit with one of these icy snowballs.]

MY LOOOOVVVVVVVVEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

[heorot]

[ when it comes to asgard, james potter had a few choices. usually his days involve sitting at the citadel, trying to finagle his way into an extra class or two despite the fact he wasn't signed up for today. there's always remus, who he could drag it of the library to do something. lily's working with snape and his bloody school and there's no way james is going to set foot in that place. not now, no way. harry's got his own shop, his own duties, hermione and jade also busy, so where does that leave james?

snowball fights with native children. why the hell not.

what he doesn't expect to find, after a very well-timed shot to the side of his face has james armed and ready to fire, he sees a very familiar face. and head of hair. and generally everything. ]

Sirius?

RUNS TO YOUR ARMS THROUGH A FIELD OF FLOWERS

[doggedly]

James!

[It's happy, first--James, thank Merlin it's James, he'd recognise him anywhere. He could be standing in a pitch black room with his hands tied behind his back and a blindfold over his eyes and he'd still know if James was around, it's like the muggle's idea of a sixth sense, but a very specific sixth sense attuned only to James Potter.

So there's James, with snow on his face and his glasses a little askew, and Sirius leaves his stash of snowballs to go running for him, all his confusing and bad mood forgotten--at least for the moment.]

James, Merlin's-- what's going on, they've told me all sorts of weird-- and these bracelets, why have we got to wear bracelets? And I can't-- [No, actually, don't talk about magic yet, it's far too depressing, and Sirius wants to live in the world of happy reunions, at least for a moment longer, even if he's just left James back in England, wherever England is from here--] --And who the hell are these kids! Snot-nosed little-- they haven't any idea of how to do a proper snowball fight, and they're--

[James James James James. Sirius is happy to see him, that's canceling everything else out, and when he grabs hold of James' upper arm, in that manly boy's club type grip that you give your best mates, because you can't be hugging them all the time--well, it's stupid how comforting that feels. But if James is here then they can take anything on, right? Right.]

What the hell is going on!

CATCHES AND SPINS AROUND

[heorot]

Sirius!

[ and he's definitely laughing. grinning. giddy in that stupid childish way he gets sometimes after long summers or christmas breaks and no sirius black. it's like his arm has been finally reattached, after having it ripped from him in some violent match- okay, maybe not quite so violent, but the loss james felt when sirius left right after he arrived? couldn't quite be put into words. with remus there, it was better, easier, but there was always going to be something missing. always just one step short of a full skip.

then there's sirius, and he looks just like the sirius he remembers - which means he can't be more than a year, maybe two, off if he's off at all. the time deal's a bit wonky, still, but he's getting used to it. ]

It's Asgard, mate! [ he says, like it explains everything. ] Norse gods? Thor and Odin? The bracelets are actually handy too- [ for james, it's been weeks. months. too long and he doesn't know how long it's been for sirius but when a day feels like a lifetime with no contact or communication or anything he will get his reunion and he will enjoy it. ] They're the natives' kids. Clever at times but awful sportsmen more often, and Remus wouldn't come out and help so I've been working on teaching them all myself but with you here-

[ and, like it's just sunken in, james' eyes go just as wide as his grin. and that little arm-grip? not going to cut it. james doesn't even pause before he's going in for the full-on hug, clapping his hands on sirius' back before pulling away again, hands on his shoulders. ]

We got picked to help gods fight a war, Padfoot. Picked and brought here to do the fighting. Welcome to Asgard!

LOVE THEME PLAYS

[doggedly]

[So Sirius has heard this, already, at the castle. He was given the explanation and he listened, sort of, but he was already a little on-edge about the whole thing and so he hadn't perhaps listened as well as he could have--but it doesn't matter, because James' explanations will always be superior to anyone else's. Sirius and James have a way of talking, in shorthand, where they can speak in whole sentences or they can not, because the little cues that they pick up from one another make up for the rest.

All right so: Norse gods, Thor and Odin, bracelets are good, Remus is here as well, teaching but teaching snowball fights, and then James got him in a hug, and even if it's only been a bit of time, for Sirius, he can appreciate that. It's a grounding sort of hug, it's like: okay, so they're in this mad place and what about magic, James, but the fact that James is here to ask at all is more or less all that he needs. So long as he's got James, he's bloody invincible.]

We got picked for a war... because we weren't doing well enough at our own? Or we were doing so well-- yeah, thanks, welcome--

[But it's hard to be at all bitter in the face of James' cheer and happiness, and he's still grinning, even if he's still not certain of all of this. It's really the magic bit that gets in his way, everything else he could manage.]

Only if you're teaching children about snowball fights, I can't imagine that there's much fighting that's gotten done. Unless-- the children are the ones that we're meant to be fighting? Were we brought here to do snow war with children, because if that's the case, it's no wonder you needed me here, Prongsie, you're not bad at snowballs, but we all know who's better-- you didn't just get here as well, did you?

[It's really more a question for confirmation than anything else, because he can tell just from the way that James is talking: no, he didn't just get here. He's been here.]

because dogs

[infomodder]

[Will is fortunate enough to be coming from a different direction, so unless the fellow turns and pelts him with extreme accuracy, he's safe. He's not sure why he feels the need to throw snowballs at kids, because unless he's just a really tall young teenager? He has issues.

Or maybe those kids were being assholes. That's possible. They're both possible. Maybe it's a mix of the two.

Will Graham is not a person to talk about another person's issues, provided they haven't killed someone gruesomely and he's been called to the scene. It's not his jurisdiction elsewhere, and considering he has so many of his own? He'd rather stay away from long talks about wonderful parents but mean siblings or a messy divorce or anything else that falls under issues.

He doesn't have it on his mind to discuss issues when he approaches him, hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket as he makes sure to keep his gaze on his face. Not his eyes, more around the cheeks if he can keep it there. He hardly does eye contact. He doesn't want to be smacked with a snowball, that much is obvious.]

You have a lot of experience making snowballs? [It's the best he can come up with.] Those look like the kind that hit hard and leave a mark later.

omg yes makes puppydog eyes at you

[doggedly]

I am--

[He answers as he carefully finishes off forming this last and final snowball (or what is the last and final snowball for now; no doubt his stock will very quickly be depleted and he will have to start in on a whole new stash). No gloves, but that's all right, he can take cold hands. He's not a girl.]

--I am a bloody snowball expert, mate. People turn to me in times of snowball fights and ask how they can improve, and sometimes if I'm feeling generous, I give advice. [A beat, as he packs the snow tighter--one pat more--and holds the snowball out to this stranger, with a slight grin, like he's either presenting his work for inspection, or offering it to him.] And sometimes I'm not feeling generous and then I just hit 'em with a snowball, and they learn the hard way.

And they do hit hard, but hey, there's no rocks in 'em. The ones with rocks in 'em are the ones you really have to look out for. I'm generous today, by the way--you can even have this one if you like.

come stay with will he gives great doggie baths

[infomodder]

[Mate?

Oh God. Their slang may not mesh well.

Will steps forward just enough to take the snowball from him, breath coming out as fog as he turns it over. He doesn't mind cold hands, either (better than bloody [maybe their slang can mesh] ones), but it's not really a preference. Will Graham won't be found out making a pile of snowballs without gloves. Or ever, considering he doesn't find it a pleasurable hobby to throw them at strangers. That would be something akin to forcing social interaction, and he'd really just. Rather. Not.

As he turns it over, a small, fluffy dog finds its way over to them. There's no leash law he's encountered just yet, and they're all well behaved enough to mind him when he gives an order. So well behaved that once she catches up to the two of them, she only gives the stranger a look, doesn't get all excited and jump in his lap. Just sits right next to Will who spares her the smallest glance before he tosses the snowball up just enough so that he can feel the weight of it when he catches it again.]

I didn't grow up with snow, so I really missed out on all that. There's snow where I moved, but...I was a little too old for fights by then.

[Also, it would look bad working with the FBI.

Complaint report about Special Agent Will Graham:

Special Agent Graham was found outside the base today, making a pile of snowballs. When approached, he then took one and threw it directly at my face. When I shouted, he threw another. And he laughed. It was all very embarrassing and I think this warrants disciplinary action, and also reimbursement for breaking the bridge of my glasses. This behavior should not be tolerated.

Isn't he like 28 anyway? Did we ever do a proper background check on him? He seems unstable.

What a thing to miss out on, snowball fights.]

Going out on a ledge here and guessing you're new, huh.

what about dog treats does he have good dog treats

[doggedly]

Oh, you're never too old for fights. Not when provoked.

[And that goes for snowball fights and otherwise. Maybe he should be a bit more mature, but it's difficult to remember maturity or even a real sense of shame when someone's working on Sirius' temper. And he's got a bit of a temper, which is something to laugh about, later, maybe, but in the moment, it can definitely get him into trouble.

...all right, so maybe this fellow is a bit old for snowball fights, though Sirius couldn't say exactly how old he really is. Generally people fall into about five age ranges (titchy kids, kids, my age, adults, and ancient, and the last two aren't usually complimentary). This stranger is something else; if he were some stupid git with an Inner Eye Sirius might say oooh he's an old soul, but that's idiotic. And there's something weirdly calming about him, even if his movements are a little weird. Like he's standing there thinking for a bit, isn't he, and that's weird.

But there's a dog that trusts him--or at least she's sitting beside him. And that's good enough for Sirius who, having spent a great deal of time as a dog, sets a lot of stock in the opinion of dogs. (Maybe that's where the calming feeling comes from, too, something about dogs and his own doggishness, like this stranger has got a caninepathy that works even when Sirius is entirely himself.) So he dusts his hands off on his jeans, with a faint little grin.]

Lucky guess. Is engaging the locals in snowball fights like a tell-tale sign that I ought to know about, in case I decide I want to blend in? Since I'm apparently stuck here.

[He squints at the stranger a moment longer, then shifts himself off of his wall and drops to his haunches, offering his hand to the dog first, for a good sniff.]

I'll shake your hand in a second, but I'm Sirius Black. Are you one of said locals? Is that how you knew to look for signs of stranger-ness in others? Or are you meant to be the welcome wagon, 'cos if that's the case, you might want to be a bit more cheerful.

Maybe more dogs as well.

[2cool4guardian]

[Jack always appreciates a good maker of snowballs, especially if they're ready to strike and have fun. And he'll be the first one to make some special ones if there's an asshole that deserves it (usually that means any adult), but he's never hit a kid with it.

Something Sirius isn't exactly respecting.

Snowballing children is fine. But when Jack notices the little ones getting stung, he uses his telekinesis to stop the hard snowballs mid-air and send them back to Sirius. And he has excellent aim, thank you.]

Keep the icy balls away from the kids and maybe you can be the other team's captain.

[doggedly]

[First off, does no one have a sense of humor.

Secondly, a levitation charm, that's not fair, and Sirius isn't usually one to whinge about fair and unfair--because it's a matter of wits and he can respect someone that can outwit him (usually) (with a few exceptions) (all right so perhaps more than a few and he's not one to take any exceptions gracefully but the point is he does not whinge about it).

But all of these thoughts have to happen really quickly, because snowballs are incoming and these are snowballs he's done himself and argh, he dodges one but the second and third catch him on the shoulder, hard.]

Hey-- [Is this some sort of magical snow prefect because if so it doesn't matter no one tells Sirius what to do. He brushes snow and ice off of his shoulder, with an air of affront.] Thank you for the advice, I'll file that away. Side-note, you might want to rethink your phrasing, for all that it's excellent advice. I think we should extend it to: let's just keep all balls, icy and otherwise, away from children. Or mentions of children.

[And he squints, suspiciously, as he shoves the last of the snow off of his now damp (very damp) shoulder. This might sound a little like complaining, but it is a valid complaint:] And why'd you get to keep your magic, exactly?

[2cool4guardian]

[Oh, Jack has sense of humor, alright. It just doesn't include hurting the kids.

He laughs when the snowballs hit Sirius, and a little more at his commentary. This guy has potential. His note about the children, though, isn't received so well. Jack raises a eyebrows.]

Thaaaat may be a little hard to do. See, I'm the one taking care of the children, I can't not-mention them. And if they wanna have fun in a snowball fun, they will, just don't hurt them. Hey, I'll even help you to make more of the icy balls if you throw them at the linefacing passerbys instead.

[The last question changes his expression completely. He looks down, sighing, grabbing a snowball and crushing it in his hand.]

I didn't it. These aren't my original powers - telekinesis is what my patron god gave me. [Wanting to blow some frustration, he throws the rest of the balls at a random (adult!) stranger walking down the street. Then he looks at Sirius again, head tilted with curiosity.] You should've gotten something too, didn't listen to the maid?

[doggedly]

[The subtleties of juvenile word play are evidently not understood--icy BALLS get it--but that's all right, because Sirius is irritated and missing his magic and hating the fact that he's got to miss his magic at all, and sceptical of anyone that takes care of children (something he always resented, when he was a kid, like that was so long ago)....

...but he also appreciates the chance to chuck snowballs at other people passing by. Even if he's still not sure that he appreciates the embargo on an open season, or being told what to do.]

Sorry. I didn't know they were all yours. Anyway, it's just snow, bit of ice, it's not like it's actually going to hurt anyone. Never hurt me.

[He can't help but notice the shift in tone here, though; clearly the loss of magic is something that gets put on everyone, and everyone dislikes it. Misery might love company, but Sirius is a bit selfish with regards to emotion. This is no different.]

Er-- yeah, they said... some things. We get one thing instead of everything, that's a bit of a crap exchange. I think we're getting gouged with that one, who do we lodge complaints with.

[And he adds, as he nods with grudging admiration toward the retreating stranger:] Nice aim, by the way. He got that right in the mouth, he'll be spitting snow for weeks.

hi snuffles

[brainiest]

[ Hermione is not the one for snowball fights or playing around or - well, anything of that sort, really. She'd prefer to sit with a book and watch, rolling her eyes, as her friends make fools out of one another and act like complete idiots without her watchful eye keeping them in order. She had imagined that most people would be able to respect the fact that she wasn't at all interested in playing their games - having a book in hand might have made that obvious, but apparently not - and, so, she was smacked on the side of the head with a snowball.

She whirls around, hair bristling and expression dark until she catches sight of who the person was. The face is familiar, not just from the fact that she knew him but also from the numerous photos of him, a younger him, that were plastered around his room in Grimmauld Place. Eyes widening, she steps closer and tries not to look as brokenly confused as she is. ]

Sirius?

well hi there cutie

[doggedly]

[It's not that Sirius targets girls, especially cute girls. Because that's incredibly juvenile, right, and he's past that point in his life. That's like tugging on pigtails.

Except you don't really outgrow teasing girls, especially cute girls. Every once and awhile, you can indulge yourself and do a little bit of teasing, throwing snowballs, et cetera--or that's Sirius' motto, anyways, which is why he selected this particular girl as a target. And then you either went from there into a profuse apology--or maybe a story, like a criminal was running just behind her, and even if she doesn't buy it she's likely to be amused--and if she's not amused then Sirius can, nearly always, tease her out of even that--and it's all so very juvenile, yes, but Sirius Black can make it charming, impossibly so--

Except he's sort of stopped in that when this particular cute girl target looks around at him with a wide-eyed expression and calls him by name. That means she knows him and he doesn't know her. He generally likes it, when fit girls know his name. It means good things. But the way she's looking at him--Merlin, maybe he should know her. Has he snogged her before or possibly met her behind the broom shed at some-- no, she doesn't look like that sort of girl. Then again, girls that don't look like 'that sort of girl' are often the very best sort of 'that sort of girl', it was like a whole sexy librarian thing, very nice, but okay he still is sort of unable to place who she is. London, maybe. Does he know her from London? Or the summer they went to the seashore, him and James and Peter and Remus, even, or--

All of this thinking occurs quite quickly, and none of it shows in his face. Instead, Sirius grins, smoothly, wipes his hand on his jeans, and--still trying to place this girl's name (Sophia, Hope, Gladys, eurgh, no, not Gladys, Mindy), he stands, quite casual and self-assured and cool, above all else, because even without magic and with snow in his hair he is still effortlessly cool.]

That's me. [And all right, he's not got anything better to follow that up with, so he's got to say something--] You don't need to look at me like that, y'know, I don't quite know what that expression means, but it's a little unnerving. I haven't punched your brother or something, have I. Snogged... your sister? You? I would, but I think we should do introductions first, and since you know me, you can tell me you, now, you're....

[He snaps his fingers, like he's conjuring her name.]

jeez sirius!!!!

[brainiest]

[ If there was one thing Hermione had always been intensely aware of it was Sirius Black's... 'Nature', as it were. She'd heard enough stories about the Marauders and their time at school to get a pretty good idea about what he was like, but seeing it first hand, directed right at her? It's a little disarming, if she's being honest, and leaves her a little off kilter.

She's not used to cute boys flirting with her, okay.

Lifting her hand to brush the snow from her hair and off her face, she purses her lips and does her best to look a little more stern than she actually feels. She's learned through experience that staying mad at someone like Sirius is rather difficult, but she intends to try - he threw a snowball at her face, for Merlin's sake, he isn't going to just get away with it. No matter how charming he is, or how nice it is to see him alive again - and she would be more shocked, but with Remus, James, Lily and Snape already here it's a familiar feeling. It's a mix of relief, joy and an aching sadness that gets all tangled up inside her.

Her arms cross over her chest and she lets her eyes flicker over him quickly, taking him in. He looks young, young enough to feel comfortable flirting with her, and given experience she imagines he must be around the same age as Remus and James. That means late years of Hogwarts, which means extra trouble and ridiculous Marauder antics - which, in turn, explains the daft snowball. It's rather nice, to be able to see this side of Sirius - while the one she knew, the future version of himself, was just as charming at times, he was also sad and a little broken by the life he's been forced to lead. Seeing Sirius carefree is like a blessing.

He's absolutely ridiculous and reminds her of James in a sharp, startling way that almost has her laughing right in his face. Instead, she bites her lip and lifts an eyebrow as he tries to work out where she might know him from -- and, honestly, snogged her? She would hope she was more memorable than that, but at least she's able to laugh at him now, a little undignified snort. ]

None of the above, I'm afraid, but nice try. [ She grins, holding out her gloved hand and tilting her head, trying not to look like an idiot. She's just so happy that it's hard to keep it all bottled up inside. ] My name is Hermione Granger, only child and Sirius snog-free, thank you very much. I'm a friend of James, Lily and Remus, if it helps, but I don't think you know me yet.

o hai mark

[theshabbiestofmen]

[James has warned him. Which is good. Remus likes being warned of things; he likes when he knows how to handle things. James has texted him, and told him where to find Sirius, and so now here comes Remus, dressed sensibly in a modern coat and scarf and hat, and he's smiling in that quiet intense way he has, when it means he's really quite happy.]

Hello, Padfoot. It's about time.

i'm just sitting up here thinking, you know....

[doggedly]

[It would have been better to surprise Remus. Surprise? Ambush, maybe. But this is all right as well.

It's about time makes it seem as if he's been gone ages, which, all right, he's beginning to understand and accept how that could be possible, but it doesn't make it any easier to swallow. I just saw you, he wants to say to them, whenever they act as if it's been ages, I just saw you an hour ago, maybe more, but still in no time at all.

But really, it doesn't matter. He's still glad to see Remus, it's one more familiar face, one he's quite fond of, and yeah it helps to reconstruct normalcy, having them all here--all save Peter--but it's also just better. He looks around at the sound of Remus' voice, and grins--but also doesn't put down the snowball he's working on.]

Well, look at you, don't you look comfortable. So you've gone native as well? Disgusting. Where's my candlelit vigil, by the way.

god i am sorry to add to the swarm

[nukeoleptic]

[ Bundled in a thick coat, Jade is busy trying to wrangle both the assault of snowballs from the Native kids and the over-large, sort of chubby German Shepherd dog at the end of the leash wrapped twice around her wrist. The dog seems to be absolutely beside himself with delight at the mere existence of snow -- he is actually often beside himself with the existence of most things, but alas.

She looks up in surprise when the icy snowball glances her shoulder, eyes narrowing in an expression that is not in any way earnestly angry, and sort of sweeps her fingers upwards in Sirius's direction. A half-dozen cable-thick vines sprout from the ground, crawling up the low wall, and seem to be trying to shove him off of it. Rude, Sirius, gosh! ]

it's the best swarm ever so don't be sorry

[doggedly]

Merlin's--

[All right, one innocent snowball? One innocent--if icy--snowball, and this is what he gets? It's not on, and if this were England, and he had all of his magic at his disposal--

Well, who the hell knows what he would do, actually, because this would still be vines pushing him off of the wall. But he'd be able to do something, at least, not just--]

Oi! [And all right, all right, yes, he's off of the wall, get away, vines--] Are these yours?

[They have to be. A wizard doesn't miss things like little gestures, because little gestures turn into things like vines pushing you off of a wall. She has got a nice dog, though; even as he's semi-glaring at her, he's got to grudgingly note that much to himself.]

[nukeoleptic]

[ She looks a little guilty when his expression actually sours and attempts to heel her dog (the attempts go absolutely unheeded, of course; the creature is still too fascinated by the concept of snow that he seems to have forgotten that she even exists), and she lifts her hand at him with her palm open in a sort of wave. ]

Yes! I don't have gloves on, so that was waaay easier than making a snowball.

[ But her face scrunches in sudden amusement. ]

Were you going to say Merlin's beard? Is that a thing you were actually going to say? [ Because James had explained that to her, at least. ]

cause i didn't get to tag you last time!!1

[dilectio]

[ Lily is decidedly not engaging in this snowball fight. she's watching, sure, eyes bright, because it's hard not to feed off the energy of kids running around playing in the snow. it's something like Hogwarts, almost, if she shuts her eyes and just listens. no one is muttering incantations or trying not to lose their grip on their wands from their fingers going numb, but it's close enough. there was one particular team, a boy and a girl, who were being awfully strategic about all of this, she noticed right away. so they were fun to watch. and it was good that she was, because as she watched the little girl round a passer-by before giving her companion a firm nod - the coast is clear - Lily actually got to witness Sirius Black getting bopped in the back of a head with a particularly fluffy snowball.

and sure, she nearly slips and falls on her arse as she rushes across the slippery bridge to bring herself over to where he's seated himself and got right to packing snowballs, but it doesn't matter, not really. she's still looking incredibly pleased by the time she's scuffing to a halt in front of him, gloved hands stuffed in warm pockets and a big smile on her face. ]

Alright, Padfoot? [ she's just going to give his snowball arsenal a look ] Not planning too brutal a revenge, are you? They're just children... [ and she's definitely just egging him on yep ]

picks you up and swings you around!!

[doggedly]

[He's busy packing snow around a snowball when he hears her voice--and he sort of stops, or at least slows in his work, and grins, but doesn't look up at her, not just yet.

There was a time where he'd have been chucking snowballs at Lily Evans--and sometimes James would be with him, and sometimes James would be shoving him in the back and telling him to stop because Lily isn't a target--but the thing about Lily Evans was, she would throw snow back at you. She'd shout at you, and she wouldn't always do it, and she wouldn't always be joking if she did--but she would throw it back at you, and Sirius, despite everything else, has always respected that.

He glances up at her, finally, still working on his snowball, with his eyebrows cocked.]

'Just children' is no excuse, miss. 'Just children', so they can get away with everything? No. It's not on. And you'd not be so charitable if they were chucking snowballs at you. You forget, I know you.

[Work finished, he holds the snowball out to her, his fingers red from cold but his smile patient, waiting for her to take it.]

bweeee!!

[dilectio]

I didn't suggest that you shouldn't plan revenge at all, just that it shouldn't be too brutal.

[ it's really hard not to be sort of bounding around in circles waiting for him to get up so she can hug him, like how she attacked affectionately greeted Remus on his arrival, but she's managing. he holds the snowball out to her and her gut tells her no, don't take it, because then you'll be armed and it'll plant a big red target on her back for both the children and Sirius, but she does it anyway because what's the fun in playing it safe? she holds it in both hands, right in front of her, all very neutral. ]

Are you honestly going to just keep sitting there packing snowballs when it's been weeks since I saw you last? Months, actually. [ which.. makes her stop and think about that for a second, wow, okay. months. three, at least. but she snaps out of that weird mood quick ] On your feet, please. I demand affection! Hugs, at once!

just bc i love you

[allbloodyhail]

[ spike steps around one of the thrown snowballs and to the source, snow was actually great he'd decided. when you were human. ]

You look like you could use a drink, mate.