[OPEN LOG] Man about town...

[purmoncul]

WHO: Sirius Black...AND YOU?
WHERE: A) His warehouse, B) Sandust Bookstore, C) Xavier's Institute, D) Central Park
WHEN: Anytime over the weekend
WARNINGS: YOU HAVE ALL HEARD SIRIUS TALK BY NOW.
SUMMARY: General post for CR purposes!
FORMAT: Paragraph, but I ain't picky

Comments

central park; sunday morning

[brevipennate]

[The littlest angel girl is all loli'd up and looking at the flowers lining the walkways. She isn't particularly interested in jogging (or the joggers), but it's nice to see other people. Her wings flutter a bit as she smiles down at the blossoms, happy to see life returning to the City.]

Re: central park; sunday morning

[purmoncul]

Well one of the joggers is certainly interested in her! Sirius puffs to a stop just past Nill and walks back to her, smiling. With his hair pulled back, red jogging shorts and white running shoes on, he looks almost wholesome, like an ad in an athletics magazine.

"Hullo, dovie! Don't you look nice? Careful, someone's liable to carry you home and put you in a bouquet."

[brevipennate]

It takes her a moment to recognize this new (and possibly improved) Sirius, but once she does, she smiles in return and reaches down to pick a daffodil. She offers the flower to him. Because a flower would look much nicer in a bouquet than she would.

[purmoncul]

Rather than take it, Sirius crouches down and sticks his nose into the blossom while she holds it.

"Gathering flowers for home?"

Sanddust bookstore; monday morning

[the_enemy_ace]

He had found the shop's small German-language section and was slowly stacking up what would, he lamented, be a considerable purchase on his limited funds. But he had been without literature entirely too long.

Ah, a treatise on the fall of the Second Reich. He put that one back. He'd been there, he had no need to hear someone explaining why they'd lost. They'd died more than the allies, the end. When you try to punch the whole world in the eye, things tend to go wrong, don't they?

He eyed a volume of Goethe, skipping entirely over a biography of Wagner. He'd never cared for the man or his music.

[purmoncul]

The massive black dog watched this go on with an almost accusatorily doleful eye. The man had not petted him, and was actually perusing the shelves. This meant that he was going to buy things. Which meant that not only was Padfoot going to have to get up and turn into Sirius, he was going to have to do maths as well.

It was almost like the man thought this was a store and not a glorified sunbeam and dust mote factory! People these days..

[the_enemy_ace]

He always had liked dogs. He reaches out, petting the friendly-looking fellow absently.

"Sorry, old chap," he says, smiling, "I have no treats for you. Next time I will come prepared." He picks up his pile of books, heading for the front counter. He places them down with a satisfied sound, and rings the bell for service.

[purmoncul]

The dog gave a wuff of acknowledgement and then dragged himself to his feet, yawning and stretching dramatically. He trotted to the back room, chuffing again over his shoulder for all the world as if to say 'hang on a tic, I'll get the lazy blighter,' and then disappeared through a doorway in the back.

"Hang on, hang on, I'm coming. Hullo sir. I hear you want helping." The young man who emerged a moment later is a bit sleepy eyed and shaggy-haired himself, but he smiles benignly enough. "Find everything you wanted?"

[purmoncul]

Sirius sets down with a smile. His biker jacket is so well-repaired you'd never know it had been slashed up, and he's gotten a messenger bag from somewhere or other. He comes over to give her something between a hug and a chuck on the arm.

"Lyra! Merlin, do they let students outside the school at lunch? You'd think I would have taught them better."

[purmoncul]

He looks from her to the bag with a conspiratorial smile.

"What have I got in here? In here, Lyra, is a rare treasure in this uncivilized land. In here...are pasties."

He says it past-ies, not pay-sties, and lets her peek inside the bag. Inside, tucked in Myer's of Keswick wrappers, are a number of crusty pies.

WAREHOUSE, ONE FINE DAY

[girlyboywonder]

[If it looks like Robin has gotten more badass, rest assured it's only temporary. The traditional Robin suit's been traded out for like-colored leather and (GASP) actual pants, but only because it would be some kind of suicide to use her newest win off of a drug dealer in her usual clothes. It'd equate to the worst kind of road rash, really.

Too bad that leather creaks a whole lot more than what she's used to, and especially when hopping through the rafters of someone else's warehouse.]

THERE HOUSE. THERE CASTLE. /Young Frankenstein

[purmoncul]

It's not so much the leather as the sudden twittering from a birdcage full of small toy birds that gets Sirius's attention - the warehouse isn't completely without surveillance, it's just of a non-standard variety.

Sirius had been doing some fussy engraving on a bunch of bolts waiting to go onto the wheels of the second flashy bike back in his workshop, but as the bird sang out, he stood up and walked further into the center of the space, wand out and at the ready.

"Hello?"

I mean. He's one guy with a little stick and engine grease on his trousers. Not the most intimidating figure in the world.

a werehouse would be a much more interesting setting

[girlyboywonder]

The birds made her freeze, right up until she realized just what they were. Just... birds. Toy birds. Though Sirius was treating it like sign of intrusion, nonetheless.

Man. Magic.

She dropped in a hang by the crook of the knees from a low beam, half missing the bright yellow cape that usually made it a flashier move.

"What're you actually gonna do with a wand 'n an intruder?"

MAKIN' THAT ICON SUPER-APPROPRIATE, HO YEZ

[purmoncul]

Sirius rolls his eyes and flicks the wand simultaneously. "Levicorpus."

Now that she's dangling upside down by one ankle, he walks up with more than a little swagger in his step. "That, first. Next, the worst torment known to mankind." He leans down to grin right in her face.

"I tickle you until you pee."

WAREHOUSE.... BEFORE TROWA COMES TO GET HIS BIKE

[hellcommander]

[Hiruma is bored. What else is new. Besides football stuff with his merry band of super strength-bearing men (and one woman), he didn't really have much to do.

So that of course meant he needed to bother Sirius]

SUCCESS

[purmoncul]

The main doors to the warehouse are open at the moment, which should give Hiruma an excellent view of Sirius, on a second motorcycle, hovering upside down in midair about three feet off the ground. Hanging on, he throws his weight around, bouncing the bike, and basically doing everything he can to try to knock it out of the air. The entire affair bobs low enough that Sirius's hair brushes the floor even bound back by a bandana, but he seems pleased enough.

"Oh. Hullo, Hiruma."

[hellcommander]

Hiruma walks in to the warehouse like he walks into all buildings; like he owns it, hands in his pockets and observing it. Then stopping a good five feet away from Sirius to avoid being whacked by any low-flying motorcycles.

"What the hell are you doing, fucking dogbreath?"

[purmoncul]

"Testing the suspension." Obviously.

One more jump and a twist, and he hauls the thing upright. It balances for a moment with him atop it, arms out to his sides, frowning in concentration, then swings upside down again.

"Hmm."

That's apparently enough of that, and Sirius just drops directly off of the floating motorcycle and onto his back. Ow. Concrete floors are hard.

"Don't suppose you want to give it a try?"