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[The camera clicks on to a low-lit room. It's difficult to see anything, but there's something moving in the darkness--

--a face. A wolf's face turned to the side, its jaws bloody and eye narrowed, teeth stretched into sharp, curved fangs. It stares at the camera for a few seconds, sizing it up, before turning. But the other half of the face isn't a wolf; rather, it's a mangled, gory mess. A young face appears on the screen, meshed horribly with the wolf on the other side-- and it's Remus' face, but one could only tell that if one knew him well, as his face is horribly torn up. Torn skin and exposed muscles make up the majority of his face, while blood pours from scratches on his forehead. His teeth are exposed through a hole in his cheek, but that's barely visible, as dripping yellow fat mixing with crimson blood are constantly slipping down his cheek. It's a horrible sight, made all the worse by Remus' sudden low laugh.

--because it's the mask, of course, and he proves that by removing it after a few seconds.]

Enjoy the show?

[There's a noticeable edge in his voice and smile, something colder and crueler than before.]

I think I quite like this new development. It's certainly far more interesting than simply another Jump, don't you agree? And far less deadly-- which reminds me, there's new people here, aren't there? I do hope that's not your first inkling that things on here aren't quite so lovely as they seem; that would be a rather poor welcome.

[He glances down, considering the mask for a few more seconds, before glancing at the camera again.]

You know, I'm always surprised at how kind everyone is here. Aren't you? How welcoming they are to the supernatural creatures. The vampires and the werewolves, the poor castaway souls that have found sanctuary here-- but you know, I don't know if that's so wise. It works out for me, of course, but don't you ever wonder what might happen if one of us snapped?

[He grins fiercely.]

Think about it. Once a month, all that separates me from a potential meal-- that is to say, you (and please don't say that you could defend yourself from me, because I can promise you, you couldn't, not from me when I'm on the hunt)-- is a simple door and a dog. Just a few inches of steel, and I'm sure soon enough the werewolf will figure out how to get out of that.

As for the vampires-- well. I don't think it would be very hard for a vampire to snap, would it? At least with me, you only have to worry once a month. A terrifying once a month, to be certain, and I could most definitely hurt you if I was so inclined now-- but in the end, I have control over myself twenty-eight days of the month. A vampire, now-- well. He could snap at any moment. His cravings are a constant hunger. Imagine, if you would, starving. Having hunger claw at your stomach, making you dizzy, making you delirious-- and then being presented a delicious meal and being told you weren't allowed to have any. Imagine having to deal with that at every hour, every minute, every second of every day--

Really, it's a wonder the poor things haven't snapped by now, isn't it?

[He slips his hand up, his finger playing carelessly at his dogtooth.]

Of course, being a creature of darkness also has its benefits. Strength, hearing, sight, smell-- they all get better. You become something better than a human, something bigger and cleverer and far more interesting. I have to say, I'm a bit surprised no one has asked for the bite yet.

But then perhaps you're all frightened.

[He shrugs and glances down at the mask again. After a moment he slips it back on and turns so the wolf side is facing the Network.]

I suppose you should be.

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Keep up with that and you're going to hurt yourself.

[He observes it mildly, as he crouches on the floor so he's even with Remus.]

Anyway, I can't let you loose. You've proven you're not able to control yourself. Bad dog, or wolf, or whatever.

Don't you fucking dare patronize me, you arrogant son of a bitch--

[His jaws snap again as he lunges for Sirius-- a useless action, but one that he tries anyway.]

Patronize you. Hardly. I'm only telling the truth.

[He cocks his head at Remus, studying him with cruel impassivity through the narrow eye slits of his mask.]

Other werewolves round here chain themselves up and things, y'know. At least this isn't self-inflicted, makes it a bit less pathetic. Would you bite me, if you could?

They don't-- they bloody don't, Isaac and Derek, they know how to live, they know we oughtn't be chained up like some bloody dog--

[And he answers that second question with a snarl, lunging for Sirius again, trying to bite any part of him-- hand throat stomach leg, anything at all, so long as it hurts--]

[He laughs again, derisively, and pulls away at the last second, teasing Remus.]

So how'd you end up here, then?

Because you're your father's son, apparently.

[He can hear his blood in his ears, whooshing around--that particular sound, the one you only get in heavy silences, and his eyes feel hot, suddenly--yes, that's one answer he gets, rising in his throat, but the power of it is less than the power of the hatred that immediately chokes out everything else--

And he snarls, and he throws his wand out toward Remus again, moving toward him--]

Not his.

[But now Remus begins to laugh, low and smug.]

You are! Look at you, lording about in his face-- you're a Black, through and through, no matter how much you try to deny it--

[The urge to tear off that face is suddenly nearly impossible to ignore--anything to distance himself from his father, he is not his father and he will prove it--and where removing the mask once seemed unthinkable, it's now a nearly all-consuming thought--

No, but he can't, and so instead he snarls; instead, he shoves his wand away and goes for Remus bare-handed, something his father would never do, never--]

[He grunts in pain, twisting as his face is slammed against the metal floor-- and it hurts, yeah, and he can taste blood from where he bit his cheek-- but still Remus smirks, because he hit a nerve and he knows it.]

Is that any way to hold up the Black family name, hm, Sirius?

Shut up--

[He snarls it, as he slams Remus against the floor again--and he can feel his father's hand on his shoulder, a heavy weight, you're a disgrace, and again, he knocks him against the floor, his teeth clenched so hard they ache--]

Or what? You'll kill me? Oh, but that'd be perfect, wouldn't it, the Black heir putting down the vermin!

[He has his fingers twisted in Remus' hair, cruelly, and his cheek is pressed to the floor, and he could do it. Sirius can feel his wand, gripped tight in his hand. He could do it.]

I wouldn't waste the strength on you.

[He breathes too fast, fear giving him away-- but there's a cruel twist to his smile even as he's pushed painfully against the floor.]

Coward.

[That's it, that's one of the words Sirius hates above all others--and even if Remus didn't know that, it's obvious from the way his face tightens, mouth narrowing--

And abruptly, he lets go, shoving Remus away with unnecessary savagery--and he whips his wand up, and the bonds fall from him, dissolving back into the floor.]

Coward?

[As slowly as he dares he climbs to his feet, his eyes never leaving Sirius' wand.]

Shall I repeat it? Or do you simply want confirmation?

[He smiles, mirthlessly, and sinks back, his wand held ready.]

Say it again and we'll see if it's true.

[His wand is still on the table, still waiting to be grabbed-- but though he wants to, Remus doesn't go for it. Instead he stares at Sirius, at his throat, very nearly panting at the thought of it.]

Coward.

[But Sirius is ready for that one, so nearly as soon as Remus has said the word, he flicks his wand up, and jabs it in Remus' direction, almost an elegant gesture for all its savagery--]

Vermillious!

[Red and orange sparks shoot out of the tip of his wand, straight at Remus' face, and he lunges for him straight after, with a punch--]

[For all his words, Remus really is shit at fighting; all can he do is reel in pain and stagger back, his arms raised defensively to try and cover himself. But the mask doesn't allow for that sort of passive action; soon he's charging forward clumsily, trying to tackle Sirius to the ground, to hit him, something--]

[But it's enough; even without skill, Remus has strength, more strength than you'd think from looking at him. Sirius hits the ground, hard--he doesn't lose his grip on his wand, thank God, but he's winded. Still, he struggles, trying to loose himself from Remus--]

[With a snarl he scrabbles to stay atop Sirius, to pin him to the floor-- left arm, yeah, easy, but it's the right that's tricky, it's the right he has to worry about--]

[He shoves up, sharply, trying to push Remus off--and he scrabbles to keep his wand hand away from Remus' grasp--jinxes, he can do jinxes in his sleep, nearly, wordless, easy--a stinging jinx at random, meant to irritate and swell whatever bit of him he hits--and again, he shoves up; if the jinx hits home it might be enough to get Remus off of him--]

[With a howl of pain he rolls off Sirius, his hands going up to his face and neck as the stinging jinx hits home-- and there's human whimpers mixed into that, a sound Sirius is so familiar with (but not like this, never when he's not transforming).]

[He moves back, scrambling back until he's pressed against Remus' bed, chest rising and falling sharply, shallowly, as he stares across at Remus. Adrenaline rushes through him, mingling and souring with fear, with guilt, guilt even the mask can't keep down, rising in his throat like bile--with the power of the mask ebbing, he stares at Remus.]

Remus--

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