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[First it’s just darkness, thick darkness, like inside a pocket or closed in a hand. Well, darkness and laughter, there’s a lot of laughter, and then the device swings around, and there’s--

Well, it’s James Potter, probably. James Potter, his head bowed a little under the set of stag antlers that have sprouted from his hair. It’s very natural-looking if you don’t know that he is usually a young antlerless wizard, and he doesn’t look very bothered. He actually seems to be the one doing a good amount of the laughing, his hands holding the base of each antler before he lifts his head back up, the tips just nearly scraping at the ceiling of the room.]

If I could get the hang of this it wouldn- [He tries to let go of the antlers, to balance under them, which only lasts for all of two seconds before his laughter throws him off-balance and he has to grab at them again to keep his head up-right.

If anyone’s paying close enough attention, they might notice a few things buzzing around in the background. They look almost like fireworks, but a closer inspection would show that they are actually miniature chinese dragons - about five of them - chasing their way around the room, setting off sparks as they go.]

Ooh, mate-- that’s a good look for you, that is, very-- dashing, noble-- you were born to be a stag--

[And Sirius turns his device around on himself, with a grin. His body modification is simple: violently pink hair, and he’s quite pleased with it, given the way he keeps reaching up to touch it, almost as if to make sure it’s really there.]

If anyone else is very bored with themselves--and you should be, you are all boring--we are happy to help with your appearance at least. Personalities, you’ll have to fix those for yourselves, good luck there, but we can at least improve your looks with-- pig’s snouts, or blue hair, if you don’t fancy pink--meant to be red, but--

[There’s a crash somewhere in the background and James’ laughter can be heard again - much louder than before, before a few whistles go off. Just your average background noise, of course.]

I mean, there’s no law that says don’t do magic under the influence of-- sleep, sleep deprivation, haha-- see, we were setting traps, Remus traps, so actually maybe don’t come up this way. Highly dangerous. [Not that he’s said just where up this way is, it could be anywhere.] Actually, I think we might have set off all of the traps ourselves--

Watch it!

[Sirius’ reflexes just happen to be perfectly timed, because right as he ducks a very large and possibly-on-fire object goes flying by his head and crashes into the wall behind him with a very loud smack. It sounds almost like what a pie would sound like, smashing up against the wall at very high speeds.]

Merlin’s-- [But the exclamation is cut off by a burst of renewed laughter from both of them, helpless and hysterical, as the device falls on the floor. This is definitely the point of the metaphorical sleepover where everyone is so tired everything becomes hilarious, and it’s amid all this chaos that the sound of a door sliding open breaks in… and Remus sighs. You don’t get the privilege of seeing him, you just get to hear his voice.]

Oh, hell.

[And the video cuts off.]

[this magic under the influence is brought to you by James & Sirius, with a very small guest appearance by Remus. expect replies and enchantments from any of the above!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Who's your lawyer?

[But of course Sirius doesn't know; that's an inherently ridiculous question. He shakes his head, dismissing it - ]

Whoever it was won't have given you a decent defense. That would be a simple case to appeal - and I would that I was there; I could initiate it for you -

[He laughs, hollowly.]

Just-- forget it, Edgeworth. All right? Forget it. I'm sorry I even said anything about it.

No. This won't -

[His fists are clenched; his throat is tight. There's something miserable in his tone - ]

This won't...stand. I won't permit this.

There's nothing you can do.

[He says it plainly, flatly--lacking in resignation or bitterness or any real emotion--but he's quick to look away from Edgeworth, a small effort at hiding his scowl.]

We don't know if we remember any of this, and we don't-- get to go for visits with each other. And you can't mess around with the future and what you know, that always ends badly.

[And Edgeworth's jaw clenches. He struggles with that for a moment, then finally says:]

If we can cross dimensions once, we can do it again. You won't be alone in this.

[His jaw tightens at that--there's a great deal that he's feeling, all mixed up, and it comes out as a stubbornness, as he clings to his anger. That's the easiest to deal with--everything else is more complicated.]

And what if it has to happen this way.

Nonsense.

[He stares back at Sirius, just as stubborn, just as angry.]

You don't believe in fate.

I don't know!

[Savagely, he rubs his hand over his mouth, pushes his fingers through his hair--his movements tense, jittery.]

I don't know. Merlin, I don't know, all right? I want to save James. I don't want him-- gone. But all I know is what happens--and if something cocks it up, we could be stuck with a problem far worse than-- than me, in prison--

[Brusquely, almost harshly, he waves that aside with a sweep of his hand.]

So you'd end up in prison for the sake of the space-time continuum? Noble enough, but absurd. Besides which, this is all almost certainly just multiple dimensions.

Almost certainly.

[He nearly spits that out.]

I'm not risking everything for almost certainly. We don't know how any of this works.

So let's be cautious and play it safe?

[He asks that incredulously.]

Is that what you're saying?

Shut up.

[He knows what that means. You're being a coward, Sirius Black. He knows, and he isn't, it's different--he can't put it to words, especially not now, because anger blooms up in him, hot and fierce and consuming.]

Shut up. You don't know what the hell you're talking about.

[But Edgeworth's temper is up as well; he'll regret it later, feel miserable later, but right now, he doesn't back down.]

No? Then inform me of what it is I don't understand. Please.

It's James' life!

[He spits it out at him, his hands clenched in fists at his sides.]

It's James' life, I'm not-- fucking around with that. And that's not cowardly. He dies, maybe, he gets killed--but he could be killed in some worse way. He could live a few more years and die anyways. I don't care, about me, about-- Azkaban, about Peter, any of it, what I care about is James, not dying, because I can't--

[He cuts off, his breath hissing between his teeth in a sharp exhale. One hand goes to his hair, shoving through it--]

He has to live. That's what I care about. That's what I want to work out, I don't want to waste time with-- with trials and barristers and laws, I want James. D'you get that?

[And before that speech is halfway through, the anger has drained utterly from Edgeworth, replaced with a dull sort of guilt. That's...Of course that's it. He was so focused on Sirius that he'd forgotten utterly about the other individual in the equation - the individual who is, shamefully, far less important to him than Sirius is, far less vital. James, after all, is a good sort, yes, and it will be a terrible thing to lose him, but...he's not Sirius. Not by a long shot. And there's nothing Edgeworth could do to prevent what happens to him, but Sirius...]

I'm sorry.

[He says that quietly. At the same time, though, he still can't help thinking - about how maybe he could save his friend.]

You're right. That's more important. I am sorry.

[He stares at Edgeworth, a ringing in his ears, his pulse pounding away in him. His hands are still clenched at his side, hard, so hard his knuckles are white, and he doesn't release that grip on nothing, but--just stares at Edgeworth, his jaw tight.]

I can't lose him.

[The misery when he says that is suppressed, nearly. His voice is tight and taut, like a coiled spring, and there's just a hint, there, at the bottom, and maybe in the way that he holds his head--his chin raised, a little.]

[Edgeworth rubs unhappily at his wrist. He doesn't meet Sirius' eyes. But quietly, he offers the possibility:]

Perhaps you won't.

[He laughs, and it's thick with bitterness--but he's quick to push his hand over his eyes, swallowing that feeling down.]

Yeah. S'ppose I might not. I mean, we're here in space, yeah? That puts it off.

I mean that perhaps it won't happen altogether.

[He gives a little shrug.]

Do we have any reason to trust Mr. Potter's word? And even if he is trustworthy, we cannot, indeed, know that his future is yours.

We can't actually know anything. That doesn't make me feel any better, y'know.

[Bleakly, he grinds his heel against the floor, staring at his boot rather than anything else. He feels stupid, now, clumsy and hot behind his eyes.]

He's James' kid. He wouldn't lie. And even if it's not-- it might be, what happens. We don't know either way. I just have to be ready.

[There's a moment where he just looks down at his hands. Finally, quietly:]

How is...James taking it?

[He smiles, thinly, still staring at his boot.]

Better than me, actually. Of course. He's James.

Right.

[That means little enough to Edgeworth. He certainly doesn't dislike James, but he's had a grand total of perhaps three conversations with the fellow; all he knows of his character is Sirius' unwavering respect and loyalty for him. Which is not, of course, inconsequential, but it makes Sirius' statement here inherently impossible to judge.]

Well. I suppose that on some levels, it is easier to...know that one perishes than to know that one goes through all of...that.

[Despite his dismal mood, Sirius manages to wrinkle his nose a little as he glances over at Edgeworth.]

D'you really think so, or are you just saying that.

Why would I just say that?

[He shakes his head, frowning slightly.]

It's hardly as though that's something to make you feel better. I'm simply pointing out why coping might be easier for him.

THE BATHROOMS are out of order!!!

THE VENDING MACHINES are out of order!!

THESE BOOKS are out of order!!!

no they're just overdue

Oh shit my late fees!!

once i had so many late fees the library threatened me with a collection agency

Please tell me that's a true story

it is SO true

Hunted by librarians...

well i did pay them eventually but yes #mylife

#thuglife

u know it

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