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Post by Lord Voldemort on Jul 17, 2010 2:14:30 GMT -5
Lord Voldemort moved though his Head Quarters in a slow calculating pace. He had heard of several new improvements to his deatheaters and his private projects.
Yes, he had much to be pleased about, however he felt the desire to see his followers jump to please him.
Nothing like a Deatheater meeting to satisfy that desire easily.
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Post by Kryshna on Jul 26, 2010 16:53:21 GMT -5
Up from the basement came the sound of an inner door opening. A moment later, the door to the basement itself opened and the Creature, known as Kryshna, came stalking out. The Dark Lords pet Assassin. Her lower face was, as usual, covered with a black cloth. Around her body, she wore a black crop top shirt with long sleeves and black pants with combat boots.
She moved like a cat out of the basement, slowly rising to her full height when her keep, dark eyes spotted Lord Voldemort. She moved over to him, taking up a position behind him.
She was like an ever faithful guard dog to the Dark Lord. Young, only looking to be about 18-21 in age. But her skin was pale, save for the veins that showed through along the edges of her face. She never responded to anyone save for when the Dark Lord spoke directly to her, or when someone would displease him, at which her head would snap up in the direction of the speaker. If it was not the Dark Lord, a glare in her eyes.
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Post by Claudia Morley on Jul 27, 2010 21:35:06 GMT -5
Claudia was so bored. It had been so long since she had even heard from her Lord, and she was getting fairly desperate. Even that foolish little whelp she had enslaved had so far failed to turn up anything useful, even though she checked on him weekly. There was only so much time a woman could sit in her opulent mansion being waited on hand and foot by servants before she was in need of a little action. Of course, for most women, action meant a good shopping spree or a date with a handsome man. For Claudia, it meant that she wanted to destroy things.
She was lounging by the pool when the Dark Lord's summons came, and she nearly wept with relief. How she longed to stand in his presence once again, and to find new ways to please him, and to outshine her nemesis, the Dark Lord's current favorite, Bellatrix Black.
She had a set of black robes near her chair at the pool, and she quickly sat up, grabbing the robes and putting them on over her bathing suit. Standing up, she slipped into a pair of heels and apparated at once.
Once she had made it through all the securities and inside the headquarters, Claudia found the Dark Lord in the largest room, dubbed the meeting room. At his side was a small, slight figure in a mask. Claudia rolled her eyes, unimpressed, but was not foolish enough to speak in the Dark Lord's presence until she was spoken to.
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Post by Lord Voldemort on Jul 27, 2010 23:41:46 GMT -5
Lord Voldemort was pleased to see that Claudia was still working very diligently at being first to arrive at his summons. As always he had to suppress the urge to sneer at all of his followers, they were all so weak, but he did enjoy their heavy panting to please him. He looked at his newest dog, she might of been beautiful to some, but then finely trained beasts always deserved admiration.
He walked toward his throne-like chair at sat down. a few more less important members of his death eaters walked in silently, avoiding the sound of footsteps as they walked in.
It was, of course, the little joys in life that brightened ones' day.
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Post by Lucius Malfoy on Jul 28, 2010 0:16:55 GMT -5
Lucius was getting similarly impatient. Of course he would never admit as much to his Lord, but it had been months since the mission to kill Bambi Ackart, and since then, Lucius had not heard from the Dark Lord. Bellatrix, too, had disappeared, and in his more petty moods, he found himself wondering if the Dark Lord had run off with Bellatrix and abandoned the lot of them.
So when he felt the searing pain burning the dark mark on his arm, Lucius was pleased. Any doubts he might have had vanished quickly, and his conscience was clear by the time he arrived in the headquarters.
That foul Morley woman was already there, of course... she seemed to make it a practice of always being first. But then, maybe she wasn't first. Lucius did not recognize the petite, masked creature standing at the Dark Lord's side, and he regarded her suspiciously for a fraction of a second before he bowed his head to the Dark Lord.
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Post by Lord Voldemort on Jul 29, 2010 20:00:57 GMT -5
Voldemort felt a smirk want to twitch itself into place when Lucius Malfoy stepped into view. Voldemort felt that Lucius would be just as jealous and loyal as some of the women that served him, but he wouldn't be want to handle him the way he handled Bellatrix.
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Post by Edmund Fairfax on Aug 2, 2010 22:42:48 GMT -5
Edmund had been with Claire, lost in a kind of unreal world of--dare he say the word--love and romance. They had not left the house in days; they just stayed together in his bed. Her own bedchambers, which he had carefully picked out and decorated just for her, had not even been slept in.
But sooner or later, reality was going to crash in on them, and it did, in the form of a summons from Lord Voldemort. They both were enjoying some strawberries and champagne when they felt the burning sensation on their arms.
Edmund glanced at Claire and nodded solemnly. Whatever the nature of their relationship might be, it did not change their commitment to the Dark Lord's cause. They had discussed this, and both were in agreement. Nothing changed.
They quickly got dressed and brushed their hair, then apparated to the Death Eater Headquarters. It wasn't long before they were entering the chamber in which the meetings were held, and they both came to stand before the Dark Lord, bowing low.
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Post by Jarrod Inophen on Aug 2, 2010 22:51:01 GMT -5
Jarrod had been drinking a lot lately, ever since the death of his father. It got even worse after the death of Blake Malfoy. He had been so convinced that Blake was responsible for his father's death and he meant to hold him accountable for it. And now even that was taken from him, when someone else killed Blake. It wasn't fair.
When he received the summons from the Dark Lord, he had a couple of drinks in him, but was mercifully, not even close to being drunk. Since he was in the Leaky Cauldron, he couldn't very well apparate from where he was. People would get suspicious. So he left the pub and ducked down the narrow alleyway of Knockturn Alley. No one ever looked twice at people who disappeared from there.
It took him a few minutes to get to the headquarters, but he didn't appear to be too late. Only a few other people were there ahead of him. This was good.
He bowed down and awaited for the Dark Lord's instruction.
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Post by Justin Scotts on Aug 2, 2010 23:07:24 GMT -5
Justin had only just finished another meeting with a dark artifact dealer, during which he was dismayed to learn that the object in question had been greatly misrepresented. It was not the fine ancient piece that the dealer had claimed it to be--instead it was cracked and chipped, and possibly not even real. He refused to buy the piece, and came away empty-handed.
This did not put Justin in a good mood, as might be imagined. Receiving the summons from the Dark Lord did not make things better at all... it meant that he would have to explain to the Dark Lord why he had not acquired the piece in question.
Still, he dutifully apparated and arrived at the headquarters just behind Jarrod, then bowed down to wait for his Lord to speak.
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Post by Trevor King on Aug 2, 2010 23:24:53 GMT -5
Oh, perfect. The best hand he'd had all day, and he was going to have to fold so that he could go to the Dark Lord's meeting. He had to temper his annoyance, though, because he knew full well that the Dark Lord would not appreciate it if he showed up in his presence feeling angry and resentful. But it was such a good hand...
"Too rich for my blood," he told the dealer, who was waiting for his bet. He sighed and laid down his cards--3 sevens and two kings--and quickly gathered up the remainder of his coins before quickly hurrying out of the room.
A few minutes later, and he, too, was standing in front of the Dark Lord, but his pockets were filled with coins.
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Post by Ursula Webb on Aug 7, 2010 0:06:27 GMT -5
It had to happen eventually. The Dark Lord had been quiet as of late, and Ursula had felt herself getting further and further away from him and his business. She was enjoying her time with Anna, and they were getting closer and closer. Was it possible that she was falling in love? She had been with a lot of women in the past, but never had she really thought herself in love. The only one she had ever actually loved had been Nathalia's father, and that was all the wild, passionate intensity of a girl fresh out of school, who'd run away from her parents and their efforts to tie her down.
But now, just as she and Anna were getting close, Ursula would have to report to the Dark Lord. It had not been easy to make an excuse to Anna for her sudden departuer, but finally, she managed to slip away and apparate to the meeting location. Once there, she took a few minutes to relax and close her mind. If the Dark Lord knew the thoughts in her head, he would surely have her killed...
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Post by Tristan Collins on Aug 7, 2010 22:26:19 GMT -5
The timing couldn't have been worse for Tristan. He was tending to a patient who had been been poisoned by a faulty potion and while he was trying to figure out what she had taken, she had abruptly lurched forward and vomited all over him. And it was at that very moment when he felt the burning sensation on his arm.
"Dammit," he swore fiercely. He needed to get cleaned up, because it wasn't respectful to the Dark Lord to show up covered in sick. But neither was being late.
"Galen," he yelled to one of his fellow doctors, who just happened to be passing by. "Can you take over this case for me? I, uh... have to get cleaned up." He indicated the mess, which completely covered his white robes. It smelled bad, too.
After a brief chat with Galen to explain the case, Tristan shed his white robes (so Galen could use it to test for poisons), and headed off to the showers. But of course, he didn't take a shower. He just used a quicky cleaning spell, then apparated to the headquarters.
He ran into Ursula just inside the building, and together the two of them walked into the meeting room to take their place at the Dark Lord's feet.
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Post by Tara Mulcahy on Aug 7, 2010 23:09:50 GMT -5
Tara was at the library when the summons came. For her, it was the first time she had felt the sharp burning sensation on her arm, and it startled her, causing her to drop the stack of books she was carrying over to be re-shelved. They hit the floor with a loud splat, and scattered everywhere. Tara was just barely able to keep from letting out a loud burst of obscenities, which would have gone over very badly in the public library, especially since it was children's hour.
But the burning sensation didn't go away, and it hurt! She was having trouble thinking about anything else, even to pick up the books she had dropped. She felt like she was breaking into a cold sweat, and there were beads of perspiration breaking out on her forehead.
Finally one of the other librarians caught sight of her obvious distress, and sent her in the back room to take her break. She hurried to the back room and rubbed her arm. Odd how it was burning right on top of the spot where she had been branded with the dark mark...
That was when she realized what it meant. Her eyes widened, and she apparated immediately to the headquarters. It took her a few minutes to make her way through all of the protective charms, since she had never done it before on her own. But after a few minutes of frustration, Tara came at last to kneel at the Dark Lord's feet.
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Post by Leander Zarek on Aug 7, 2010 23:51:42 GMT -5
No one could say exactly when Lee arrived. Maybe he'd been there all along, standing behind Kryshna. But it was that moment when he stepped out just slightly, revealing his presence. He was silent as he calmly surveyed the other Death Eaters as they arrived and took their places in the circle. Interesting, he noted dispassionately, how many beautiful women there were in the Dark Lord's employ. He was going to have to make an effort to get to know a few of them later.
His gaze shifted to Kryshna. She was also motionless, and he wondered to himself just how aware she really was of the other people in the room. Most people thought that Leander wasn't aware of the other people in the room, even when he was speaking to them. But the truth was, he was always aware of the people around him... he just generally didn't care.
He glanced toward the Dark Lord, careful never to look directly at the man. He exuded power and strength, and Lee was looking forward to seeing how the man handled his minions and worked the crowd. These people all worshiped him and clearly believed in his cause. For Leander, his beliefs were somewhat murky, but he did believe in blood purity and the preservation of pure magical bloodlines. And if anyone could do it, it would certainly have to be Lord Voldemort.
The room was too quiet and there didn't seem to be any movement or change. Leander was getting impatient, and it took every bit of strength he had not to pull out a mirror to check his appearance. He really hoped everyone would get here soon....
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Post by Lord Voldemort on Aug 8, 2010 22:16:29 GMT -5
He enjoyed letting his followers fill the air with nervous tension. He let the silence stretch before turning his hand over and conjuring a goblet of elf-made wine to his hand. He took a sip before he banished it and rose slowly from his throne and pinned random followers with a probing stare, casting Legilimens on a few of them.
Inophen was a drunk, how pathetically weak. Fairfax fancied himself in love, more weakness. Scotts had failed to procure other artifact that was worthy of his ownership.
Clearly if you wanted something done right, you had to do it yourself.
"I feel that I may have been overly generous with the time I've given you to be creative in your tasks in my name." His voice was even toned, maybe even bored, but he seethed with the desire to stamp out the weakness in his followers. He raised his hand and pointed to Inophen, He was either going to be useful or he would dealt with. "Weakness, has many faces, It could be unmindful toward our cause," he flicked his red tinted gaze toward his newest witch, "or wrapped up in the small conformities of other agendas." He shifted toward Mr. King.
He took his wand from his robe and gazed at it as if he was alone with it and felt a knick in the wood. " Need I really question your devotion? The loyalty that you've all profess to have to me and the cause?" He let the question stain the air with a few guilty shifts of feet or eyes.
(I'm sort of looking for someone to say "Oh no my lord" simper simper or other sort of reaction)
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Post by Talon Harsey on Aug 15, 2010 18:41:51 GMT -5
Talon, who had slipped in just before Trevor, bowed his head to Voldemort. "No my Lord," he replied in a confident tone. There was no reason for his voice to sound too weak. He learned his place not to speak to much nor draw a lot of attention to himself. So far, Talon thought that he didn't really have too many weaknesses at the moment, not that he knew of anyway.
As Talon replied to Voldemort, he made sure that his bow was low and as respectful as possible. If given any missions, he tried to do what he was told. He also wanted to try to prove his loyality whenever asked.
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Post by Lord Voldemort on Aug 25, 2010 23:15:12 GMT -5
Lord Voldemort narrowed his gaze on one of his Death Eaters that had the guile to speak up in their defense.
"Are you saying you know more of my Death Eater's than I?" he paused as he turned his gaze toward one of the weaker Death Eaters, the ones he had peered into.
"Then tell me Harsey, tell me who among your fellows is the canker I speak of?" he turned back toward Harsey, his eyes burning in a red gleam and drew his wand toward him, and the follower as well, "Tell me Harsey. Tell me the TRUTH." is was a vicious sort of statement, the kind that would compel any one to start talking. If there was one thing Lord Voldemort loved more than the near piety of his followers, it was making examples of them.
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Post by Breanna Sheridan on Aug 25, 2010 23:31:28 GMT -5
Breanna had arrived shortly before the Dark Lord began addressing the others, so it would have been perfectly natural to be a bit flustered. She was not, however, and instead remained silent, bowing before the Dark Lord. She showed no emotions at all, actually. She had learned a long time ago that emotions were weaknesses that one could not afford to give in to. It was not the Dark Lord who had convinced her of this; no, her father had done it. He had called her names, said horrible, hateful things to her, and tried to break her spirit. Instead, however, she learned how to take his words without emotion, just as she was taking the Dark Lord's harsh words now.
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Post by Talon Harsey on Aug 28, 2010 13:08:03 GMT -5
Talon was used to hearing harsh words from Lord Voldemort. He kept himself together. If it was one thing he knew that he should not do at all was act completely weak.
"No my Lord," Talon replied with his head still bowed out of respect. He stood a little taller and raised his head just slightly. "Things are not going as fast as planned, my Lord. We are all working to make sure that people know your name and tremble at the mention or even the thought of it." He didn't want to bring just one person out in particular.
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Post by Kryshna on Aug 28, 2010 16:35:40 GMT -5
Kryshna's head snaps up, her eyes suddenly seeming very aware of the situation of the room. Her eyes quickly dart over toward Talon, narrowed into an emotionless glare of a beast finding the weakest prey.
Those eyes dart very quickly over ever face within the room, even those barely noticeable standing in the back. Even back to Leander. The only face her eyes do not land on is the Dark Lord's. She looks at his feet, much the way a wolf would look at the feet of its alpha when showing respect.
His feet were the last thing she looked at before turning her eyes, darkly, back to Talon. He was the one that spoke out when no others would. It placed him in the role of responsibility if he is willing to speak so widely of the actions of the group. It means, if something was to go wrong, it would be his head, such is the price of speaking up. The dark veins etched across the boundaries of her face pulsed in anticipation of possibly seeing this man's blood, her iris starting to grow a deep crimson.
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