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Eames ([info]dream_bigger) wrote in [info]colligo_threads,
@ 2010-10-24 10:08:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:!closed, ariadne, eames, sirius black

WHO: Eames and Sirius Black, added Ariadne!
WHAT: Vast amounts of "WTF"-ery
WHEN: Sunday morning
WHERE: That bloody library and then home sweet home for Eames.
RATING: It's Eames and Sirius. Swearing, inappropriate un-PC comments, possibly rude gestures? What's 12 in american film ratings?
STATUS: In progress



His head was killing him. His hand wasn't too far behind, and really, what the fuck was up with that? He hadn't shot himself in the hand, he'd have remembered. But yes, his headache was awful and so he wasn't really aware of very much until he was stumbling out onto the steps of that fucking library yet again. He looked around in case there were still some zombies poised and ready to have him for dinner, but he just saw other people standing on the steps looking confused. He automatically reached in his pocket for his totem once he saw he was relatively safe and brought it out into the light to check it. Reality. Huh.

His Bensons and lighter were in his jacket, so it was no time at all until he was filling his lungs with lovely nicotine and tars and fuck alone knew what else was in the damn things, but that wasn't important. He needed to get back to Arthur, he needed to get home but he'd be next to useless if he didn't get a smoke first. Cigarettes cured many things, he'd discovered, such as shitty mornings, bad tempers, hunger pangs and fidgeting fingers, but they weren't touching his headache. Bastard things. Still, he had lodged a bullet in his brain, so he supposed it couldn't really be helped. Arthur would help. Arthur and a huge mug of tea.

He flexed his sore hand as best he could, then looked around properly at everyone else, taking in details that he'd skipped on first glance. They all looked vaguely familiar, which was to be expected since they'd all been using the network, and then he saw someone he knew. "Sirius. Thank fuck for that," he said to himself, and then walked over to where the younger man was using his PDA. "Good to see you, mate. Smoke?"


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[info]pad_foot
2010-10-24 06:01 pm UTC (link)
Sirius pulled a face. He was very much in favor of hiding in the pub until the world forgot it was angry at him. Sirius was never one to back down from a confrontation - actually, he rather enjoyed them when it came to people he didn't like. But having a load of overly emotional woman (which it seemed the network was suddenly overrun with) shouting at him was not something he particularly welcomed. Although the amount of them who seemed upset by his momentary passing was, he admitted, flattering.

Eames had set off, and Sirius gave him a thoroughly bemused look when he turned back. "I'm not walking! It's fucking years away!" Sirius had apparently forgotten how to use his legs at around the same time he'd purchased his motorbike. He cocked an eyebrow, treating Eames to his infamous wicked grin as he casually extracted his wand from behind his ear, spinning it between long fingers. "I'm a shitting wizard. We can apparate. Until I find my fucking bike..."

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[info]dream_bigger
2010-10-24 06:47 pm UTC (link)
"Sirius, pet, I am many things, but a wizard I am not. For further reference, it's not an automatic reaction to think 'We can apparate'. What is apparating, by the way?" He'd never paid much attention to those Harry Potter things, so while he knew Sirius had been mentioned in them, he didn't know much beyond that.

"A bike sounds good, but if that's all you're after, I can get us a car. It's no problem." He'd hotwired cars whilst being blind-drunk before now, he could cope with a headache and a sore hand.

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[info]pad_foot
2010-10-24 07:23 pm UTC (link)
'What is apparating?' Sirius' comically crestfallen expression said it all at that question. He gave up on these people sometimes, he really did. Although, unlike the rest of his family, he had no problem with muggles, that didn't mean he bloody understood them most of the time. "Oh, for Godric's sake. Are you always this bloody useless?"

Sirius marched down the stairs to join Eames, jumping the last one so he landed on the balls of his booted feet beside him. One lace, as always, was loose. "You need to visualise where we're going. Which is your apartment, I'm assuming. Don't think about anything else, or you'll splinch. Which is worse than zombies nibbling those dainty fingertips of yours."

He reached out, grasping his friends elbow and him a wicked grin, his wand still in his hand. "Ready?"

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[info]dream_bigger
2010-10-24 08:04 pm UTC (link)
"Fuck off, I'm never useless. I'm simply not a wizard, you tit. Entirely different," he grumbled. Then Sirius was beside him and talking about going home. He nodded, easily building the layout of his apartment in his mind, and absently reached over to lift Sirius' wallet or whatever was in the young wizard's pocket, in an attempt to prove he was far from useless. Loose change and napkins were the only things he found, though. How dull.

"Ready for wh-" he tried to ask, and then everything went black as he was squeezed in all directions and his lungs stopped working because they couldn't work against the awful pressure and buggering fuck but his eyes were going to implode or something and... then it was fine. Well, other than his headache somehow being worse, which he hadn't thought was possible, but there you go. "-at... what the FUCK ow christ that was awful, Sirius, you twat, WARN A PERSON, and don't stand on Ariadne's models or she'll string you up by your testicles. And don't touch anything that's on an easel."

He risked opening his eyes and sure enough, they were in his apartment. He was home. "Oh, thank fuck for that."

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[info]pad_foot
2010-10-24 08:50 pm UTC (link)
Sirius didn't bother to let Eames finish talking before he rolled his eyes, gripped his wand and turned on the spot, dragging the other man with him. Apparition was never a pleasant experience - especially the first time. It was a little like being pushed through a blender, or caught in a wave that dragged you under and threw you in all directions. Peter had almost thrown up the first time. Sirius had never seen anyone so green.

He grinned as they stood in Eames' flat, releasing his grip on Eames' elbow as the man spluttered and shouted. Sirius shook his head. "At least you didn't puke." A canine bark of laughter escaped him and he shook his head, looking around. He'd never been inside here before. Outside, yes, when he'd dropped Ariadne off after one of their little... meetings. But it wasn't too hard to aim for the other side of the door.

He frowned, narrowing his eyes and stepping over some kind of model city to narrow his eyes at a picture mounted on an easel. "You guys need to get out more." He grinned cheekily across at his friend, before turning back to the drawing, getting as close as he could without touching. "You do this?"

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[info]dream_bigger
2010-10-24 10:12 pm UTC (link)
"We get out plenty," he replied, then looked round to see what Sirius was doing. "I did, yes. It's nowhere near finished yet, I only started it last week." The canvas was fairly big, two foot by three, and parts of it had been blocked in in colour, parts were still only linework and some were oddly detailed, given the state of the rest of the canvas. It was a scene from a dream, a large dancing studio with a wooden floor, huge mirrors lining one wall and natural light flooding in. The dancers were whirling round, mostly indistinct blurs of colour and movement, but there, a young red-headed man was being dipped by his partner, and his head was thrown back with laughter. An Asian couple were dancing gracefully in the background, and outside the window, a fox could be seen playing chase with a raven around a winged statue. The piece should have been far too busy, but somehow, it seemed to work. No doubt Morpheus would have laughed himself stupid if he ever saw it. "I considered doing it in the style of Degas, because what else would I use for painting dancers? But this is my work. And fucking hell, the lighting's all wrong in parts of it. Jesus, why did nobody say?"

He moved over to stand just behind and to the side of Sirius. "Why? Do you like it? I could paint you something for your flat if you like? A 'Well done on not staying dead' kind of gift, I suppose."

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[info]pad_foot
2010-10-24 10:46 pm UTC (link)
Sirius cocked his head wolfishly as he examined the picture. It was good, no' one could deny it. Really good. Even Sirius could tell that, and his appreciation of art went about as far as flirting with the girls in the portrait on the second floor, so they would act as spies for him and his friends. Sirius' face contorted after another long seconds examination, and he resisted the urge to poke the picture. "Doesn't it... y'know.... move?"

He straightened up, turning around to glance at Eames where he stood behind him. It still made him laugh to think of the first time he'd met Eames. No' one could say it was a normal start to a friendship, but it seemed to be working out alright. Not that Sirius ever missed a chance to make a joke about 'fucking amazing legs.' He smiled at Eames, then turned back to the painting.

"Yeah, alright," he agreed. "Although I don't know if it's just my flat any more." He frowned at the painting for a moment, then sighed and raked a hand through long, dark hair. He was doing his best not to think of his brother, but it was difficult. Like having a shadow hanging over him, asking for his attention. Only he'd been doing his best not to give this particular monster any thought for the best part of four years.

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[info]dream_bigger
2010-10-24 11:04 pm UTC (link)
"Why the fuck would it move, Sirius? It's a painting. Oh, wait, don't tell me. This is a wizard... thing, isn't it?" he asked, with an appropriate vague hand-movement to go with "wizard... thing". "How on earth would I manage to paint it if the bloody thing kept swirling about on me?"

He smiled back at Sirius, even though his head felt like it was trying to open itself, and shoved his sore hand in his pocket. "It was your flat first, mate, no matter who the fuck they've shoved in with you. If you wanted pictures of, I dunno, elephants lapdancing, you'd be a sick fuck, but more importantly, you'd be a sick fuck in your own place where you have every right to be a sick fuck. I'm not painting you anything to do with lapdancing pachyderms, by the way. Just so you're aware of that."

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[info]labyrinthine
2010-10-24 11:54 pm UTC (link)
The discussion of erotic elephant art was cut short by a new arrival to the room. Ariadne had been lying in her room half-asleep when she heard voices. It took a few moments for the realization that it wasn't Arthur speaking, and that there wasn't a female voice either. They were, however, definitely voices she recognized.

Throwing open the door, Ariadne paused on the threshold as if needing to confirm what her ears had told her. But no, it definitely looked like Eames and Sirius, and it wasn't a dream. And they weren't dead. They were here. She sprang across the room, punching Eames on the arm before throwing her arms around him in a surprisingly tight hug.

"You asshole, what the fuck?" she muttered, suddenly trying very hard to keep from crying.

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[info]dream_bigger
2010-10-25 12:21 am UTC (link)
Looking round at the sound of the door opening, Eames couldn't help but grin at Ariadne. "Hello," he said, just before she was moving, and then... what? She punched him? Unfair! What was with all this pain people seemed to want to inflict on him today? Fucking ow! This probably meant Arthur was going to smack him round the head a few times with a breezeblock, didn't it?

Still, he wrapped his arms round her and hugged back, before dropping a quick kiss on the top of her head. "I missed you too, sweetheart. Or I would have if I'd been aware of things. And you really do need to work on those terms of endearment. Really. 'Asshole' just doesn't have the same ring to it as, say, 'dearest' or 'pet'. At least 'Arsehole' is proper English." He gave up on talking crap after that, and just hugged her, clearly not giving a shit that Sirius was able to watch everything.

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[info]pad_foot
2010-10-25 12:34 am UTC (link)
Sirius was about to reply with a heavily sarcastic remark when Ariadne appeared at a doorway, flew across the room to deliver what seemed (in Sirius' mind, at least) some rather unneeded violence before wrapping Eames in a hug. Sirius turned away, stepping over several models sprawled on the floor, to stand away from the reunion by the window, looking down on the street. In his pocket, the PDA buzzed and Sirius pulled it out, flicking through the messages and feeling the muscles in his shoulders knot and tighten as he read Al's news.

Fucking fantastic. He'd definitely be crashing at James' tonight. There was no way in hell he would living with him again. It was too familiar, too reminiscent of his life before.

Sirius' leg gave an anxious twitch as his fingertips drummed on the windowsill, and a crunch echoed through the room. The animagus winced, glancing down to see a delicate model building yhat had been kicked over by his muddy boot. "Oh... Merlin. Shit. Sorry." Glancing guiltily to the pair in the middle of the room, Sirius grabbed his wand, waved it silently, and watched the model reconstruct itself around his feet.

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[info]labyrinthine
2010-10-25 02:20 am UTC (link)
"You fucker, you went out alone and you died, I will call you whatever the fuck I want." she muttered, pulling away. Whether her face was red from a blush or from tears barely in check was debateable. "Including an idiot, which is what you are."

Ariadne turned towards Sirius, pushing her hair out of her face and still glaring. "And you're just as bad. You got infected and then someone had to kill you? Great plan."

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[info]dream_bigger
2010-10-25 08:39 pm UTC (link)
"Yes, I did, and you can, and I am. A total idiot, a complete fucking lackwit, I know," he murmured, just for her to hear. Biting on his lower lip, he let go as she pulled away and started massaging his sore hand as he watched Ariadne turn to give Sirius a bollocking as well. As she ranted, he remembered that Sirius had mentioned a bike earlier, and resolved to check the network when things calmed down. He had an idea about the paintings (because yes, it seemed he was going to paint at least two) he'd be giving his friend, but he just needed to check some things out.

After he'd seen Arthur, of course. Still rubbing at his hand, no matter how painful it was, he turned to watch the other bedroom door. Hopefully, Arthur was on the other side, and he'd go in and get told off and insulted and raged at, and he'd try his best to apologise and to make things right. He hadn't even realised that he'd taken a step or two towards the door until he stubbed his toe on the couch. "Ow, fuck, what is it with today, everything wants to hurt me," he grumbled.

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[info]pad_foot
2010-10-27 10:20 pm UTC (link)
Sirius had thought he'd got away without a severe tongue lashing, but no such luck. Ariadne rounded on him with all the fury of Professor McGonagall on a bad hat day. Thankfully, Sirius was quite used to being told off, and did his usual (and very irritating) trick of zoning out until the volume decreased. Then he offered her a perky smile and raked long fingers through his hair.

"To be honest, the planning stage was quite minimal." He offered cheekily, before giving Eames a 'blimey' look, and laughing as the other man was attacked viciously by his furniture. His PDA buzzed irritably in his pocket, and the wizard rolled his eyes without bothering to check it. "I should go. Before Abbott has some kind of seizure."

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[info]labyrinthine
2010-10-28 12:02 am UTC (link)
Ariadne was sufficiently irritated and rolled her eyes as hard as she could. "You didn't have a plan? Gee, I'm shocked." Folding her arms over her chest, she continued to glare at Sirius. "Yeah, maybe you should. And get the hell away from my models before you break them again." She was mad enough that she didn't wince or laugh when Eames stubbed his toe. Anger was easier than acknowledging just how scared or upset she'd been, and unlike certain others she knew she would just yell at them and get it out of her system.

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[info]dream_bigger
2010-10-28 09:11 pm UTC (link)
Eames shrugged as Ariadne continued to give Sirius a bit of a bollocking, a kind of "I did warn you" gesture, then sat down heavily on the couch. "I'll see you later, Sirius. I'm sure you have plenty of people clamouring to scold you, and far be it from us to keep you back," he said, making a "shoo shoo" gesture with one of his hands. The other was pinching at the bridge of his nose, or at least, it looked like that was all he was doing. In reality, he was trying to keep his brain from exiting his skull through his eye sockets.

"Go on, get out. We'll see you in the pub at some point, okay?"

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[info]pad_foot
2010-10-28 09:24 pm UTC (link)
Sirius couldn't help but laugh. Sirius seemed to have an issue when it came to laughing at the most inappropriate moments in time - he'd learnt at a very young age that it was preferable to crying or getting angry. Otherwise he'd probably have self destructed before he'd even reached Hogwarts. Shaking his head, the animagus quirked an eyebrow, smirked, then snapped his shoulders back and straightened his spine, offering the occupants of the room a comedy salute.

"Aye aye Sir!" Sirius's wide grin flourished for the second time in as many minutes, his grip on his wand tightened, and there was a faint pop as he apparated away, leaving air to rush into the space he had just occupied.

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