Happy Birthday, dear Antichrist...

[damien-thorn.livejournal.com]

((Open RP in the library.))

To some, it would be quite a boring way to spend a birthday, but Damien Thorn was quite enjoying his time in the library. Many of the mindless impostors and traitors had asked him why he was spending his time in a musty school for magic, and now he knew that he had found the ultimate answer in the pages of a well-worn text.

The Fidelius Charm, a very complex bit of magic that binded a secret to the soul of a person who kept it. Once bound, the secret could only be revealed by the Secret Keeper, and only if they so chose. A person who had not been told the secret could be standing right in front of what they were searching for, and still not find it. Damien had something that he very much wished to keep away from prying eyes.

It was this charm that kept him quite happily occupied on his thirty-fourth birthday, with a bottle of brandy ont he table and his dog by his side to keep him company.

Comments

[damien-thorn.livejournal.com]

"They seem to allow dogs anywhere here," Damien said. "At least, nobody has said a word to me." He motioned to the large black dog sitting beside him, who was eagerly wagging his tail. "Chance, meet Nero. He's been a bit starved for attention, I'm afraid, so he might be a bit too friendly. As for the ulcers, I've been doing quite well in avoiding them. How about yourself?"

[chance-silvey.livejournal.com]

"No such thing as too friendly, as long as he doesn't jump," said Chance. Nero might be a formidably large dog, but he wasn't the thin starveling sort the ghul resembled, and she didn't think Damien wouldn't have control of his pet. Otherwise the dog would've been running all around the stacks by now, and probably barking up a storm. Had to be a decently-trained dog. She knelt to let him sniff her hand, as Joe Matthews had taught her. "Doggy introduction," she explained. "Can't launch into a scritch before they get to know your smell, my grandfather always said. I've been steering clear of the ulcers myself. Actually I can't think of a damn thing those runes said that have had any relevance to my life whatsoever."

[damien-thorn.livejournal.com]

The dog was the size of a small pony, and it obviously was well-cared for. "Thin" was not a word that would describe Nero. He sniffed her carefully, examining her hand intently. With a soft whuff he moved away from her hand. Chance had passed inspection.

Damien had been watching the dog. When it seemed satisfied that Chance was no threat, he smiled. "I think he's done. If you scratched him behind the ears now, you'd have a friend for life." Damien pushed one of the chairs away from the table, giving Chance a place to sit near the dog if she wanted it. "We could try pulling alphabet blocks out of a bag the next time," he said. "Maybe we could spell our fortunes."

[chance-silvey.livejournal.com]

Chance had to chuckle a little at that. She took the seat offered, and gently scratched Nero's head. "It'd be the same principle, wouldn't it? Just a more familiar alphabet. And the blocks would be easier to handle. Though it'd take a shitload of alphabet blocks to spell much of anything. That'd get heavy to drag around. The prof would need to equip us all with little red wagons."

[damien-thorn.livejournal.com]

"Maybe if you're trying to tell your future via Scrabble, where you have to leave the blocks on the table," Damien said. "If you land 'death' on a triple word score, does it get to be a more interesting one? Imagine the points you'd get for something like 'asphyxiation.' Anyway, what I was thinking was that you could just toss the blocks back in the bag, and write down your letters. That way, if the forces of fate decided that, say, you're going to become an antitransubstantiationalist, you'd have the letters for it." He smiled as Nero leaned into her hand, trying to get her to scratch behind the ear. "Unless, of course, you're already one, then you probably don't have to worry about that."