1 ∆ i solemnly swear i've never been here before [dictated]

[toerags]

[ There's a burst of green light as "-Kedavra" hits him and - ] Li- [ James blinks away the bright green to find himself in a room very unlike the one he had been cornered in. It's the lobby of Cair Paradisa - but James doens't quite know that yet.] -ly?

[ James found himself sprawled on the floor. Getting up, he took in his surroundings. It was a castle of some sort - much similar to Hogwarts - but it lacked the warmth and familiar tug his home of seven years caused within his stomach. ] Padfoot? Evans? Dumbledore?

[ A journal lay open near where he once laid. He bent down, picking it up, and watched as the words he had spoken appeared on the page. ] Flobberworm. Squid. Snivellus. Confundusapparatusmotherhubbarddogoldtreechickenhenpotato - Huh. [ For all the words appeared on the page. James found this very interesting. ]

[ James shrugged, deciding that this journal was just another trick of Sirius'. He spun on the spot, closing his eyes, thinking of home - Godric's Hollow, Lily's warm smile, the snow - and when he opened his eyes, he found himself looking at the same walls he'd just seen. So - Apparating seemed to be down at the moment. ] Well. At least I haven't appeared to splinch myself. [ That was the least of his problems. For the panic had yet to settle in. ]

Comments

Re: dictated

[eightynine.livejournal.com]

[There is a brief laugh,] No no, this is like.... [Sam was totally going to say intercom system but no telling if this guy has those where he is from.] It's a method of communication. Speak into it, write in it. Everyone with one will see it or hear it.

Pretty cool. And super useful.

As for where you are...I'm still figuring that out too but it's called Paradisa. It's...hard to explain.

dictated

[toerags]

So, even if I was - [ There's a pause as James places his journal on the floor and takes ten large steps away from his journal. ] - here you can hear me? [ Probably would've been better if he weren't talking slightly louder than usual. He returns to his journal, picking it up. ] What happens if I don't want people to see what I'm ... saying? Can I stop the journal from writing it down? [ And here he glares at the journal. Very, very hard. ]

Paradisa. Huh, sounds like paradise. [ Duh, James. ] You ... new here, too?

dictated

[eightynine.livejournal.com]

[Yes, Sam can totally hear you as you shout at the journal from across the room, sir. He chuckles,] Yes I can hear you. And you can write things also if you don't feel like speaking. Or even send a message to just one person by writing their name first.

[He snorts,] Hey man, don't get taken in by the pretty packaging. This place is creepy central. As for me, I'm fairly new too. Just been here a month. The name is Sam Flynn.

dictated

[toerags]

[ long ass pause ] Mate, this is weird. And I come from a world of the weird and wacky.

I'm James Potter. [ like that's supposed to mean something to Sam Flynn ] A month, you say? I - don't want to be here that long. I have to get home. Is there anyway to get out of here on the reason that it's an emergency?

dictated - sorry for the delay! :(

[eightynine.livejournal.com]

Man, I think you and I are on the same page. Fair warning though? It gets worse. [Sorry, man.]

So. About that. [Sam takes a deep breath before breaking the bad news,] Some people have been here for years. I'm going to try and find a way out. But I hear it's been tried before. And not successfully.

dictated | don't worry about it. ;) sorry about MY delay.

[toerags]

[ James places his hands over his eyes, pushing very hard against every part of his face he can touch. ] Bloody Merlin. At least there's a page I'm sharing with someone. Doing this alone might be worse.

[ He is gobsmacked. ] Well, obviously there hasn't been a James Potter to make it successful. [ He's full of crap, but, James can't do absolute shock and sadness and everything in between while thinking about what he's left behind at home. ] We can try it a few different ways. I'm sure I got a few tricks up m'sleeve. [ His wand is up his sleeve. Literally. ]