http://fleasaremurder.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] fleasaremurder.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] bait_backup2011-01-17 02:10 pm

Son of Sam, son of the shining path, the clouded mind


*It is not at all unusual for an Auror to work late into the night. There has to be someone on duty at all times, after all, particularly now. What is unusual is how feverishly Sirius is scribbling into his notebook. Open books are spread across the desk before him, and he is currently flipping through a musty-looking tome entitled Magickal Wardƒ & their Uƒeƒ. Discarding it after a moment, he picks up another, more modern but much more ill-kept, called Replicating the Task of Prometheus.

It will not easy to break into the Black household. Sirius remembers acutely coming home late one afternoon when he was twelve and having to wait for Orion to tell the gargoyles to let go of him. He is fairly certain that the punishment for being caught this time would be rather worse than it was back then. But it has been decided, and it feels good to work like this, alone in the office in the quiet but not-entirely-empty Ministry. Here and there, people are moving along, congregating in knots of two and three around teapots, still working. The night will buzz on like this, he knows, until it becomes morning. Typically Sirius enjoys wandering the huge place, taking a trip out into the city for curry, but Sirius has been so glued to this research that he's skipped dinner entirely and hasn't seen another soul since Dawlish left at 7.

Still, tiredness is creeping up on him as surely as ever. Only a few more hours here, and then he can give the shift over to Gloria Prynn and crawl into bed next to Remus. He shuts Replicating the Task of Prometheus and rubs his eyes.*

[identity profile] mad-actually.livejournal.com 2011-01-18 11:00 am (UTC)(link)
*Barty is well acquainted with the Ministry. He remembers the long hours early in his father's career, when he had been brought in for reasons now forgotten, forced to make his own entertainment under tables and desks and behind snack machines. Barty follows theses old paths and vague plans, revelling in how his younger self would have been thrilled by this newer, higher form of amusement.

It isn't long before curious, saucer-like eyes appear over the brim of Sirius Black's cubicle. A shock of straw hair similarly flopping over the stale edge. Barty waits and watches in silence. A predator who can only strike if his prey knows its there.*

[identity profile] mad-actually.livejournal.com 2011-01-18 07:33 pm (UTC)(link)
*The eyes bob upwards, like jostling balloons, making way for a grin that's just a little too wide for safe, public consumption. His chin finally comes to rest on the edge of the flimsy half-wall, slightly tilted.*

You know, I've always thought you're all a bit like wriggling kittens. I expect you'll want to know why.

[identity profile] mad-actually.livejournal.com 2011-01-19 11:09 am (UTC)(link)
Because you're all in little crates, sometimes all you do is play with string but mostly you mew sadly, waiting for a chance to suckle at the mother cat's teat.

My father is the cat in this analogy. In case that escaped you. I'm not a cat, though. I never owned one either. He never approved of pets. I don't think he realizes how many he already has.

*Barty reaches down and takes one of Sirius' quills.*

I'm going to be borrowing this.

[identity profile] mad-actually.livejournal.com 2011-01-19 11:49 pm (UTC)(link)
*Leaning over the half wall, Barty taps at the title of Sirius' book.*

The tasks you're replicating.

[identity profile] mad-actually.livejournal.com 2011-01-20 06:10 am (UTC)(link)
*Barty admires the quill's razor sharp tip, poking it with a finger for emphasis. His expression is sober when he looks back up - he's not visiting the Ministry just to get his jollies, after all.*

It's a back-up plan. In case I have to take the Roman way out. They can disarm me and trap me but no one expects a sharp quill up the nose and into the brain.

[identity profile] mad-actually.livejournal.com 2011-01-20 06:18 am (UTC)(link)
The threat of being tied down, tortured for days and then offered a job is all encompassing.

I don't want a one, especially not in a paper-filled kittencrate.

[identity profile] mad-actually.livejournal.com 2011-01-20 07:02 am (UTC)(link)
*Observing this groggy shuffling of books, Barty shakes his head sadly.*

You've already succumbed. Your livelihood is a pile of forests.

[identity profile] mad-actually.livejournal.com 2011-01-20 07:10 am (UTC)(link)
Well of course YOU'RE confused. Reg inherited all the metaphors - you got a penis instead.

[identity profile] mad-actually.livejournal.com 2011-01-20 09:27 am (UTC)(link)
Yes, and I have BOTH ends. I'm like a liaison between two worlds. A prodigy.

[identity profile] mad-actually.livejournal.com 2011-01-20 07:28 pm (UTC)(link)
I'm not here to liaise. He thinks you're stranger than him. A relationship based in such twisted assumptions is inherently unfixable.

[identity profile] mad-actually.livejournal.com 2011-01-24 10:39 am (UTC)(link)
I've been ordered. Under threat of violence and feet-melting.

[identity profile] mad-actually.livejournal.com 2011-01-24 09:34 pm (UTC)(link)
I came to you because you were in the way. This is just procrastination. Don't worry, kitten, mother cat hasn't noticed you yet.

[identity profile] mad-actually.livejournal.com 2011-01-24 09:46 pm (UTC)(link)
I don't know about relieved or annoyed but I do hope you aren't surprised.