π€ππ£ππ¦π€ πππππ (padfoots) wrote in crownplazaic, @ 2021-03-07 13:31:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log/thread, sirius black |
Log β’ Sirius + OTA
α΄‘Κα΄: Sirius Black + OPEN.
α΄‘Κα΄Κα΄: Around the grounds, namely the wood.
α΄‘Κα΄Ι΄: 6 March, mid-afternoon.
α΄‘Κα΄α΄: Stalking about, being a dog, avoiding his problems.
α΄‘α΄ΚΙ΄ΙͺΙ΄Ι’s: TBD.
sα΄α΄α΄α΄s: OPEN, ongoing.
Sirius had a task and that, to his great relief, was more than enough to keep his mind occupied. Borderline raving, he was, too fresh out of Azkaban to suffer another prison, however gilded it was. It mattered little where he went; it would nevertheless be insufferable and would require him to keep his head down. Stir crazy, Sirius had paced for a considerable amount of time before altogether giving up his pledge to be patient (a virtue he never had possessed) and shifted into a form more comfortable than his own human skin. Galloping down the stairs and pushing through the heavy doors to the grounds, Sirius sat for a long moment, surveying the treeline and the edges of manicured gardens and lawns. Salty sea air hung in the light breeze washing over him, ruffling his thick black fur which was doing just enough to keep the chill out of his bones. Sirius always felt cold, as if it were an infection seeping down into his very core, rooted there like an ancient weed, impossible to remove. That terrified Sirius but he felt as if he were slowly thawing out, coming back to life. With a little huff, Sirius pushed back up onto his paws and padded around the pavement before trotting along the side of the hotel. In the distance, a wood began to loom overhead, a twisted canopy casting dark shadows on the ground. A thing to explore, Sirius mused to himself, not forgetting his mission just yet. As easy as it would be to lose himself in the simplicity of his Animagus form, to avoid and ignore, scouting a place that could provide shelter, privacy, and space for Remus and himself was important to Sirius. More important than anything else. Gravel and dirt crunched underfoot as Sirius glanced around, mind wandering again. Various sounds of life were carried by the wind, rumblings of voices and footsteps, and Sirius was vigilant. Still on the run despite his innocence, it was possible he would never be acquitted, that he would never be able to walk the streets as a free man. Once more, Siriusβs blood ran cold and he broke into a run, attempting, once more, to escape the weight on his own shoulders. |