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Fandom Avada Kedavra [onexone]
- Thread starter Little Red Dragons
- Start date
defenderofberk
And... We're doomed. Fun times.
Pure blood·witch
/·Be one of us·/
noun
a woman thought to have magic powers, especially evil ones; a girl or woman who is bewitchingly attractive.
Lileath Tanith Slytherin
code by @pasta
Name: Lileath Tanith Slytherin
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Wand: 10'' yew and dragon heartstring wand
Boggart: Her father denouncing her
Backstory:
Voldemort, in his arrogance, thought the Slytherin blood that he carried made him superior to everyone else in both purity and magical ability. Dissatisfied with both the loyalty and skill of the death eaters, he decided to raise one from the beginning: completely loyal to him and powerful, but nothing he couldn't take care of should the need arise. Coming to this conclusion, he spent a while studying various bloodlines, trying to find a suitable pure blood to bear his child. Finally finding one, he kidnapped Dorea Black just as she was about to get married to Charlus Potter, causing the marriage to fall through as he faked her suicide.
Locking her in his manor, he slowly bent her mind, finding it enjoyable to be in complete control over someone so weak against him, yet he knew she was quite powerful, as otherwise he wouldn't of chosen her. After a while, she gave birth to a girl, something Voldemort was surprisingly pleased about. Females in his view are far easier to control and manipulate than males, and he didn't want to risk his child getting too powerful lest they become problematic. Also, if his younger male heir had some kind of problem, he could always send the older one after him rather than having to do it himself. Having a daughter also had one other perk: with his complete control over her, he could control the direction of the bloodline, something that would be harder to do with a male. He kept Dorea in his manor to do all the parts of child raising that he considered too beneath him, although he wasn't planning on having any more until he knew whether his test subject would be a success. It wasn't like he didn't have enough time after all.
In order to stop Dorea turning Lileath against him, he killed her when she was quite young, and assumed control over her education and direction. Taking the form of his younger self to do so, he refused to let her go to ordinary schools. Instead she was tutored by various professors who he'd kidnapped and broken to his will, although she never suspected they were being controlled by her father. He didn't want the order finding out and using her against him, as that could've been problematic, so that greatly impeded her chances to connect with other children. These tutors were later removed when they weren't of any use.
Although he taught her how to duel, it wasn't his main focus, especially as he had a near endless line of idiots capable of blowing stuff up already. He'd long realised that it would be difficult to subjugate the rest of the wizarding world without alliances, so while most of his death eaters (with a few notable exceptions) were assigned to combat associated roles, he had her trained in both intrigue and diplomacy. As such, she was very rarely seen on the battlefield despite being an adequate duelist, but news of her existence did eventually spread to the order due how she managed the new recruits and outer ring.
Unusual abilities: Can speak Parseltongue
Appearance: Lileath is tall, especially for a woman, reaching six foot even without heels. She's not exactly skinny but is instead lithe, her fingers long and feminine. Facially she has very striking features and it is often accompained with long hair, although she changes it every now and then.
Strengths (magical and physical):
Age: 25
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Wand: 10'' yew and dragon heartstring wand
Boggart: Her father denouncing her
Backstory:
Voldemort, in his arrogance, thought the Slytherin blood that he carried made him superior to everyone else in both purity and magical ability. Dissatisfied with both the loyalty and skill of the death eaters, he decided to raise one from the beginning: completely loyal to him and powerful, but nothing he couldn't take care of should the need arise. Coming to this conclusion, he spent a while studying various bloodlines, trying to find a suitable pure blood to bear his child. Finally finding one, he kidnapped Dorea Black just as she was about to get married to Charlus Potter, causing the marriage to fall through as he faked her suicide.
Locking her in his manor, he slowly bent her mind, finding it enjoyable to be in complete control over someone so weak against him, yet he knew she was quite powerful, as otherwise he wouldn't of chosen her. After a while, she gave birth to a girl, something Voldemort was surprisingly pleased about. Females in his view are far easier to control and manipulate than males, and he didn't want to risk his child getting too powerful lest they become problematic. Also, if his younger male heir had some kind of problem, he could always send the older one after him rather than having to do it himself. Having a daughter also had one other perk: with his complete control over her, he could control the direction of the bloodline, something that would be harder to do with a male. He kept Dorea in his manor to do all the parts of child raising that he considered too beneath him, although he wasn't planning on having any more until he knew whether his test subject would be a success. It wasn't like he didn't have enough time after all.
In order to stop Dorea turning Lileath against him, he killed her when she was quite young, and assumed control over her education and direction. Taking the form of his younger self to do so, he refused to let her go to ordinary schools. Instead she was tutored by various professors who he'd kidnapped and broken to his will, although she never suspected they were being controlled by her father. He didn't want the order finding out and using her against him, as that could've been problematic, so that greatly impeded her chances to connect with other children. These tutors were later removed when they weren't of any use.
Although he taught her how to duel, it wasn't his main focus, especially as he had a near endless line of idiots capable of blowing stuff up already. He'd long realised that it would be difficult to subjugate the rest of the wizarding world without alliances, so while most of his death eaters (with a few notable exceptions) were assigned to combat associated roles, he had her trained in both intrigue and diplomacy. As such, she was very rarely seen on the battlefield despite being an adequate duelist, but news of her existence did eventually spread to the order due how she managed the new recruits and outer ring.
Unusual abilities: Can speak Parseltongue
Appearance: Lileath is tall, especially for a woman, reaching six foot even without heels. She's not exactly skinny but is instead lithe, her fingers long and feminine. Facially she has very striking features and it is often accompained with long hair, although she changes it every now and then.
Strengths (magical and physical):
- Reasonably athletic; can sprint, swim and jump over things, but is incapable of great feats of strength and endurance.
- Speed: Above average - 7/10
- Jumping ability: Slightly above average - 6/10
- Swimming ability: Average - 5/10
- Strength: Average - 5/10
- Stamina: Above average - 7/10
- Magical Strengths:
- Occlumancy (mind reading): Significantly above average - 8/10
- Dueling: Above average - 7/10
- Charms: Slightly above average - 6/10
- Potions: Average - 5/10
- Herbology: Below average - 3/10
- Transfiguration: Above average - 7/10
- Dark magic: Significantly above average - 8/10
- Virtues
- Wit/humour: Above average - 7/10
- Intelligence: Above average - 7/10
- Determined: Slightly above average - 6/10
- Fun-loving: Above average - 7/10
- Vices:
- Untrustworthiness: Extreme - 9/10
- Alcohol dependence: Moderate, not needed but certainly enjoyed - 5/10
- Paranoia: Above average - 7/10
- Arrogance: Significantly above average - 8/10
- Empathy: Slightly below average - 4/10
- Obsessive: Significantly above average - 8/10
- Recklessness: Slightly above average - 7/10
Little Red Dragons
Hobgoblins and Kittens
[div class=container]
[div class=tab1][div class=tabtitlec1][div class=tabtitle1]BASICS[/div][/div][/div][div class=tab2][div class=tabtitlec2][div class=tabtitle2]MAGIC[/div][/div][/div][div class=tab3][div class=tabtitlec3][div class=tabtitle3]HISTORY[/div][/div][/div]
[/div]
[div class=contentcontainer][div class=tabcontent1]
FULLNAME ▏ Ambrose Malek Carrow
AGE ▏ twenty two
GENDER&ORIENTATION ▏ male & straight
BUILD&HEIGHT ▏ 180lbs & 5’10” - athletic and lean, not overly muscled, high endurance but lacks brute strength
SCARS&BIRTHMARKS ▏ a thin scar from their eyebrow to their cheek bone on the left eye
POS.TRAITS ▏ strong-willed, intelligent, silver-tongued, loyal, orderly
NEG.TRAITS ▏ ruthless, pretentious, surly, antagonistic, resentful
LIKES ▏ tailored suits, politics, travelling the world, being in charge, competition
DISLIKES ▏ pastel colors, muggle transportation, sweet beverages, public speaking, wearing robes
FEAR ▏Being rejected as a death eater and never being recognized as his father's son.
GOALS ▏ to rise through the ranks as a death eater and to have a role of power within the ministry
SECRET ▏ Ambrose is adopted, and he suspects he is actually muggleborn. The adoption is kept a secret though, so no one outside his immediate family knows.
[/div] [div class=tabcontent2 style=display:none]
WAND ▏ hornbeam, unicorn hair core, 13in, springy
BLOOD STATUS ▏ pureblood
STRENGTHS ▏ transfiguration 9/10 curses&hexes 8/10 herbology 7/10
WEAKNESSES ▏ potions 5/10 occlumancy&legilimency 3/10 dueling ?/10
[/div] [div class=tabcontent3 style=display:none]
Ambrose was born to a muggle family in Russia, one that was highly superstitious and religious. When he began to show signs of magic at a young age, they disowned him and immediately abandoned him at an orphanage. They claimed he was a cursed child, possessed by a demon. When they tried to perform an exorcism on him to ride him of the demon, he was injured and his eye was permanently scarred. The woman who ran the orphanage was a squib, and while she had no ability to use magic herself, she had been raised in the wizarding world. Using her contacts, the woman was able to arrange an adoption for Ambrose that placed him with a magical family. Ambrose was not old enough to remember when he was adopted, but he always knew there was something his parents weren’t telling him. See, the Carrows had been trying very hard to have a child, but Amelia Carrow was unable to carry one herself. As an old pureblood family, it was an expectation of their peers for them to carry on their pureblood line. So the Carrows kept the desperate adoption a secret, and Amelia became a stay at home mother until Ambrose was old enough to attend school.
Things at home were tense, and expectations for Ambrose were always set incredibly high. His parents were the notorious Carrows, known for their mastery of magic and their influence in the Russian ministry. There was something dark about his family. They all had an air of entitlement, and they were more than willing to use dark magics to get their way. The Carrows loathed anyone they deemed to be less than them. First and foremost, muggles. As hatred is taught, Ambrose grew to also hate muggles and mudbloods. They were undeserving of magic or any basic rights as people. Purebloods were the rightful heirs to the world.
When he got his letter for school, Ambrose confronted his parents –not wanting to leave for several months of the year knowing there was a secret in his family. His parents, being too proud of their blood heritage and too selfish to understand his feelings, refused to divulge the truth. During his first two years at Koldovstoretz –the Russian school of magic- Ambrose researched his parents as well as his own biological line. He was able to prove through various spells that he was not related to his parents by blood, and then began to track down his true lineage. Ambrose was confused and felt an overwhelming sense of rejection when he learned the truth. He had been abandoned because he was a wizard, and now he was expected to not only hide who he was, he was the very thing he had been raised to despise. A mudblood. An offspring of filthy muggles.
The following years in school were rocky, as Ambrose felt bitter towards the magic in his veins and the world in general. In his fifth year Ambrose researched the orphanage He had been given to, and learned the identity of his birth family. The following summer He ran away from his home to track down his birth family and see what kind of people these muggles really were. After a day or so of following them around, Ambrose realized what kind of people they were. Below average, weak, and fearful. His birth family disgusted him. They were lowly and pathetic, just as the Carrows had taught him muggles would be. Casting them out of his mind, he vowed that he would never let his muggle parents be known. He was Ambrose Malek Carrow, a pureblood wizard of a noble bloodline.
From that point on, Ambrose embraced his magical abilities and his schooling. He dove into his studies and began to write home to his parents as well. His relationship with his parents deepened, and Ambrose found that he was interested in their jobs. Both of them were politicians at the Russian Ministry of Magic. Ambrose changed his schedule to focus on classes that would allow his to pursue the same career after school. One of his classes, Hexes: Placing and Breaking, became his favorite and he excelled at it. The last few years of his education were the best years of his youth, and he left school with impressive marks and several letters of recommendation for work.
Ambrose joined the ministry, beginning as a desk jockey to the aurors. It didn’t take him long to get notice however, due to his work ethic and his parents’ influence. He moved up the ranks and now works as part of the support staff to the Russian minister. Upon his promotion, Ambrose’s parents decided he was worthy of knowing their family’s true secret –not his adoption, oh no. The Carrows were among the first to pledge loyalty to the up and coming Dark Lord. Voldemort had met the older Carrows while travelling and gathering horcruxes, and they had groomed their only son to follow in their footsteps.
Proud of his parents, and fully devoted to the movement that would soon turn into a war, Ambrose happily joined the death eaters and began working his way into their ranks. Even with his impressive family name, Ambrose was starting from the outer circle and had to earn his own way in. Eager for the challenge and the chance to prove himself as his father’s true heir.
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♡coded by uxie♡
[div class=title][div class=titletext]Ambrose Carrow
[/div][/div][div class=tabcontainer][div class=tab1][div class=tabtitlec1][div class=tabtitle1]BASICS[/div][/div][/div][div class=tab2][div class=tabtitlec2][div class=tabtitle2]MAGIC[/div][/div][/div][div class=tab3][div class=tabtitlec3][div class=tabtitle3]HISTORY[/div][/div][/div]
[/div]
[div class=contentcontainer][div class=tabcontent1]
FULLNAME ▏ Ambrose Malek Carrow
AGE ▏ twenty two
GENDER&ORIENTATION ▏ male & straight
BUILD&HEIGHT ▏ 180lbs & 5’10” - athletic and lean, not overly muscled, high endurance but lacks brute strength
SCARS&BIRTHMARKS ▏ a thin scar from their eyebrow to their cheek bone on the left eye
POS.TRAITS ▏ strong-willed, intelligent, silver-tongued, loyal, orderly
NEG.TRAITS ▏ ruthless, pretentious, surly, antagonistic, resentful
LIKES ▏ tailored suits, politics, travelling the world, being in charge, competition
DISLIKES ▏ pastel colors, muggle transportation, sweet beverages, public speaking, wearing robes
FEAR ▏Being rejected as a death eater and never being recognized as his father's son.
GOALS ▏ to rise through the ranks as a death eater and to have a role of power within the ministry
SECRET ▏ Ambrose is adopted, and he suspects he is actually muggleborn. The adoption is kept a secret though, so no one outside his immediate family knows.
[/div] [div class=tabcontent2 style=display:none]
WAND ▏ hornbeam, unicorn hair core, 13in, springy
BLOOD STATUS ▏ pureblood
STRENGTHS ▏ transfiguration 9/10 curses&hexes 8/10 herbology 7/10
WEAKNESSES ▏ potions 5/10 occlumancy&legilimency 3/10 dueling ?/10
[/div] [div class=tabcontent3 style=display:none]
Ambrose was born to a muggle family in Russia, one that was highly superstitious and religious. When he began to show signs of magic at a young age, they disowned him and immediately abandoned him at an orphanage. They claimed he was a cursed child, possessed by a demon. When they tried to perform an exorcism on him to ride him of the demon, he was injured and his eye was permanently scarred. The woman who ran the orphanage was a squib, and while she had no ability to use magic herself, she had been raised in the wizarding world. Using her contacts, the woman was able to arrange an adoption for Ambrose that placed him with a magical family. Ambrose was not old enough to remember when he was adopted, but he always knew there was something his parents weren’t telling him. See, the Carrows had been trying very hard to have a child, but Amelia Carrow was unable to carry one herself. As an old pureblood family, it was an expectation of their peers for them to carry on their pureblood line. So the Carrows kept the desperate adoption a secret, and Amelia became a stay at home mother until Ambrose was old enough to attend school.
Things at home were tense, and expectations for Ambrose were always set incredibly high. His parents were the notorious Carrows, known for their mastery of magic and their influence in the Russian ministry. There was something dark about his family. They all had an air of entitlement, and they were more than willing to use dark magics to get their way. The Carrows loathed anyone they deemed to be less than them. First and foremost, muggles. As hatred is taught, Ambrose grew to also hate muggles and mudbloods. They were undeserving of magic or any basic rights as people. Purebloods were the rightful heirs to the world.
When he got his letter for school, Ambrose confronted his parents –not wanting to leave for several months of the year knowing there was a secret in his family. His parents, being too proud of their blood heritage and too selfish to understand his feelings, refused to divulge the truth. During his first two years at Koldovstoretz –the Russian school of magic- Ambrose researched his parents as well as his own biological line. He was able to prove through various spells that he was not related to his parents by blood, and then began to track down his true lineage. Ambrose was confused and felt an overwhelming sense of rejection when he learned the truth. He had been abandoned because he was a wizard, and now he was expected to not only hide who he was, he was the very thing he had been raised to despise. A mudblood. An offspring of filthy muggles.
The following years in school were rocky, as Ambrose felt bitter towards the magic in his veins and the world in general. In his fifth year Ambrose researched the orphanage He had been given to, and learned the identity of his birth family. The following summer He ran away from his home to track down his birth family and see what kind of people these muggles really were. After a day or so of following them around, Ambrose realized what kind of people they were. Below average, weak, and fearful. His birth family disgusted him. They were lowly and pathetic, just as the Carrows had taught him muggles would be. Casting them out of his mind, he vowed that he would never let his muggle parents be known. He was Ambrose Malek Carrow, a pureblood wizard of a noble bloodline.
From that point on, Ambrose embraced his magical abilities and his schooling. He dove into his studies and began to write home to his parents as well. His relationship with his parents deepened, and Ambrose found that he was interested in their jobs. Both of them were politicians at the Russian Ministry of Magic. Ambrose changed his schedule to focus on classes that would allow his to pursue the same career after school. One of his classes, Hexes: Placing and Breaking, became his favorite and he excelled at it. The last few years of his education were the best years of his youth, and he left school with impressive marks and several letters of recommendation for work.
Ambrose joined the ministry, beginning as a desk jockey to the aurors. It didn’t take him long to get notice however, due to his work ethic and his parents’ influence. He moved up the ranks and now works as part of the support staff to the Russian minister. Upon his promotion, Ambrose’s parents decided he was worthy of knowing their family’s true secret –not his adoption, oh no. The Carrows were among the first to pledge loyalty to the up and coming Dark Lord. Voldemort had met the older Carrows while travelling and gathering horcruxes, and they had groomed their only son to follow in their footsteps.
Proud of his parents, and fully devoted to the movement that would soon turn into a war, Ambrose happily joined the death eaters and began working his way into their ranks. Even with his impressive family name, Ambrose was starting from the outer circle and had to earn his own way in. Eager for the challenge and the chance to prove himself as his father’s true heir.
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Last edited:
Little Red Dragons
Hobgoblins and Kittens
[div class=wrapper][div class=background][div class=contentbox][div class=scrollbox][div class=textbox]The singer was draped over the grand piano, her long and slender legs dangling beside the man who played for her. The duo was talented to be sure, but it was the woman who drew the most attention. Ornate curls of the darkest brunette where pinned around her pale face, and her smoldering gaze met the lonely eyes of every man in the room. Her emerald gown was dripping in sequins that glinted in the dim candle light of the bar. The refractions of light made the cup he was holding sparkle and shimmer, the amber scotch inside casting a rosy tint on his fingers. Ambrose turned away from the beautiful singer to face the man sitting beside him. ”Truth be told, this is more of a luxury than I was expecting tonight. Though I suppose secret societies are not necessarily poor ones.” Tilting his cup in the direction of his companion, Ambrose silently offered a toast. Travers, a young bloke with a rugged face and short cropped hair, returned the gesture and agreed, “I am more familiar with the Hog’s Head, myself. Somewhere where the dirt is thick and the wine is thin.” Both men chuckled, and Ambrose took a sip of his drink.
His own experiences were of a more expensive nature, having come from the family that he did. Money and prestige were of no question for the Carrows, and Ambrose had enjoyed the finer things in life. Even in Russia, a country that as a whole was not as wealthy as London, Ambrose had known luxury. Ever since coming to Britain, he had been surprised by the overwhelming plainness of the magical community here. There were spare few noble bloodline left, and it seemed that only those held any substantial wealth or influence. He had to resist the urge to wrinkle his nose as he thought of Diagon Alley, the horrible shopping district in London. It was cramp and ordinary. In his excitement of his trip to London, Ambrose had envisioned what it would be like. Though he had painted a much more elegant picture in his mind.
A sharp elbow to his ribs drew Ambrose from his thoughts, and he looked at Travers with a scowl. ”Watch yourself, Tr-…” Travers had his back to him, and absently waved off Ambrose’s complaints. The other recruited death eater was focused on the open door of the bar. His attentions, like the attentions of every man in the bar, had shifted from the glamorous singer to the striking woman in the doorway. Ambrose raised one eyebrow and lifted his cup to his lips, tasting the rich liquor as his eyes roamed over the newcomer. Regal. That was how he would have described her. Head held high, a dangerously angled jawline, and fierce golden eyes. The long platinum hair that framed her face contrasted with the dark gloom of the underground bar. Even if she hadn’t been tall, her sheer presence would have dwarfed the men around her. Ambrose could almost taste the power that seeped from her every movement. There was no doubt in his mind that she was the death eater who was to induct them into the ranks of the new Dark Lord.
Shivers ran down his spine, and Ambrose set his glass down to hide the unsteadiness in his hands. He had seen beautiful women before. But he had never seen such an impressive one. She gave off the aura that he so desperately wished to have. So in control… Radiating strength and commanding obedience with a simple glance. A flush of determination and desire filled his stomach, and Ambrose knew he would do commit any act, take any vow, and become whoever he must to become just like her. He would settle for nothing less than being her equal.
The harsh whisper that came from Travers jolted Ambrose, and he found himself snarling at the man. Traverse leaned over to him and said rudely, “She’s a real piece, isn’t she? I wonder where I can get a woman like that.” Ambrose sneered down his nose at Travers, taking in the man’s shabby robes and yellow stained teeth. ”Treasures are not kept with the rubbish, Travers. Be sure to remember that.” The shock and offense were plain on Travers’ face, and he slowly turned away from Ambrose. So much for making nice with the other recruits… Ambrose held up his finger to bartender and quietly asked, ”If she has a usual, I’ll take that. If she doesn’t… give me your best bourbon on the rocks.” He was taking a chance by not asking her if he could by her a drink. A woman like her was most likely fond of either red wine, or a rich bourbon. She hardly seemed the type for a gin and tonic or vodka cranberry.
With the new drink in one hand and his own glass in the other, Ambrose slid from his barstool. He gently tossed his head to clear his hair from his eyes, and boldly strode forward. She was crossing the floor as he approached, and Ambrose could sense the rippling waves of anticipation in the room. Stepping in front of her, Ambrose offered her the drink with a charming smile. ”Good evening, temnaya krasavitsa…” The term was an affectionate one that his father often called his mother. It meant ‘dark beauty,’ and it seemed to fit this incredible woman who stood before him. Ambrose inclined his head to her and swept his arm toward a small table near the center of the room. ”Will you do me the honor of addressing our meeting from my table?”[/div][/div][/div]
[div class=tagbox][div class=pic][/div]☆OUTFIT
☆ underground bar
☆ excited&smitten
☆ I AM AMBROSE [/div][/div][/div]
His own experiences were of a more expensive nature, having come from the family that he did. Money and prestige were of no question for the Carrows, and Ambrose had enjoyed the finer things in life. Even in Russia, a country that as a whole was not as wealthy as London, Ambrose had known luxury. Ever since coming to Britain, he had been surprised by the overwhelming plainness of the magical community here. There were spare few noble bloodline left, and it seemed that only those held any substantial wealth or influence. He had to resist the urge to wrinkle his nose as he thought of Diagon Alley, the horrible shopping district in London. It was cramp and ordinary. In his excitement of his trip to London, Ambrose had envisioned what it would be like. Though he had painted a much more elegant picture in his mind.
A sharp elbow to his ribs drew Ambrose from his thoughts, and he looked at Travers with a scowl. ”Watch yourself, Tr-…” Travers had his back to him, and absently waved off Ambrose’s complaints. The other recruited death eater was focused on the open door of the bar. His attentions, like the attentions of every man in the bar, had shifted from the glamorous singer to the striking woman in the doorway. Ambrose raised one eyebrow and lifted his cup to his lips, tasting the rich liquor as his eyes roamed over the newcomer. Regal. That was how he would have described her. Head held high, a dangerously angled jawline, and fierce golden eyes. The long platinum hair that framed her face contrasted with the dark gloom of the underground bar. Even if she hadn’t been tall, her sheer presence would have dwarfed the men around her. Ambrose could almost taste the power that seeped from her every movement. There was no doubt in his mind that she was the death eater who was to induct them into the ranks of the new Dark Lord.
Shivers ran down his spine, and Ambrose set his glass down to hide the unsteadiness in his hands. He had seen beautiful women before. But he had never seen such an impressive one. She gave off the aura that he so desperately wished to have. So in control… Radiating strength and commanding obedience with a simple glance. A flush of determination and desire filled his stomach, and Ambrose knew he would do commit any act, take any vow, and become whoever he must to become just like her. He would settle for nothing less than being her equal.
The harsh whisper that came from Travers jolted Ambrose, and he found himself snarling at the man. Traverse leaned over to him and said rudely, “She’s a real piece, isn’t she? I wonder where I can get a woman like that.” Ambrose sneered down his nose at Travers, taking in the man’s shabby robes and yellow stained teeth. ”Treasures are not kept with the rubbish, Travers. Be sure to remember that.” The shock and offense were plain on Travers’ face, and he slowly turned away from Ambrose. So much for making nice with the other recruits… Ambrose held up his finger to bartender and quietly asked, ”If she has a usual, I’ll take that. If she doesn’t… give me your best bourbon on the rocks.” He was taking a chance by not asking her if he could by her a drink. A woman like her was most likely fond of either red wine, or a rich bourbon. She hardly seemed the type for a gin and tonic or vodka cranberry.
With the new drink in one hand and his own glass in the other, Ambrose slid from his barstool. He gently tossed his head to clear his hair from his eyes, and boldly strode forward. She was crossing the floor as he approached, and Ambrose could sense the rippling waves of anticipation in the room. Stepping in front of her, Ambrose offered her the drink with a charming smile. ”Good evening, temnaya krasavitsa…” The term was an affectionate one that his father often called his mother. It meant ‘dark beauty,’ and it seemed to fit this incredible woman who stood before him. Ambrose inclined his head to her and swept his arm toward a small table near the center of the room. ”Will you do me the honor of addressing our meeting from my table?”[/div][/div][/div]
[div class=tagbox][div class=pic][/div]☆OUTFIT
☆ underground bar
☆ excited&smitten
☆ I AM AMBROSE [/div][/div][/div]
code by RI.a
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defenderofberk
And... We're doomed. Fun times.
[div class=wrapper][div class=background][div class=contentbox][div class=scrollbox][div class=textbox]Lileath stood in an immense walk in wardrobe, flicking through various outfits as she mused about what to wear. A delightfully fluffy towel was wrapped around her under the revealing silk robe she had donned once she had dried off from the shower, a light belt keeping it all together. Her feet gently padded on the polished wood floor as she moved from one section to another, dismissing the idea of wearing a dress and moving onto her suits. Tracing the fine fabric of her various blazers with her manicured fingers, she pursed her lips as she considered the different colours and styles. Choosing her signature black, she took out the matching trousers and white shirt, the outfit tailored not to swamp her natural curves.
Chucking the damp towel on top of the door that separated the wardrobe from the rest of her apartment, she got dressed into the comfortable outfit, smirking slightly as she looked at the full length wall mirror that stood opposite the entrance. Despite the sheer madness of her life she wasn’t covered in any scars unless one counted the dark mark on her left forearm, although it was now hidden by her outfit. She did not do so because she was ashamed of it however, as just like the other members of the inner circle she considered it an honour to be marked for greatness by their Dark Lord, but simply because it would’ve made the outfit look very peculiar to have her arms left bare.
Picking out a pair of pointed but plain black leather boots, the heel on them moderate but not obnoxious, she finally turned her attention to her still slightly damp hair. She had recently dyed it metallic white again and she twirled a loose strand of it while she considered how to style it this time. She liked having it braided, especially in combat, but that only really looked good with dresses and some wizard robes. She could have it up in a high ponytail she supposed, but she usually reserved that for when she was in her father’s presence due to him apparently liking it, although she found it rather irksome. By all accounts she was unlikely to see him tonight anyways as Bella had bragged about him inviting her to dinner, but she hadn’t bothered to confirm it. If her father wanted to speak to her she’d know about it, so there was little point in interrupting whatever he was doing. Deciding just to have it down, she used her wand to dry it and then applied product to ensure it remained glossy and in place. It covered her ears until only the very bottom could be seen, part of it coming down to frame her face but most of it cascading down her back. Checking herself over in the mirror, she put her wand back in her inner blazer pocket before picking out a gold watch, the only piece of jewelry on her aside from a hidden necklace under her shirt, the two top buttons undone as she wasn’t wearing a tie.
Finally walking out the wardrobe, she thought over what she was going to say one last time as she exited her exquisite apartment, locking it behind her with both a key and her wand. Wards stopped her apperating directly into or from the flat but it never really became an issue as she could just walk outside and apperate from there. Calling a lift to the top floor, she nodded to the smartly dressed muggle man inside as the metal doors closed behind her. She didn’t like the lift but she had spent so long getting ready that she now didn’t have time to walk down the twenty odd flights of stairs that separated her from the ground floor. Although the sensation made her feel mildly nauseous it was not evident in her face or demeanor as she fell into her usual state of powerful calm. The other man glanced at her back anxiously as he felt (but could not explain) the subtle energy that seemed to radiate from the young woman and he was glad when he got off before her, leaving her in there alone. Choosing not to apperate until she got out the building incase it was caught on camera, she nodded to the security guard positioned at the door, handing him her keycard so it could be scanned through.
“Have a good evening Ms Slytherin.” The bulky muggle said and she thanked him, taking back her card and placing it back in a very slim leather purse. It’d been a nightmare getting verified by the British government as a citizen and had required a lot of false documents and altered memories, but now she was one it made so many things easier. She even had her own set of bank cards, not that she’d ever explained where that money had come from.
Walking into a nearby parking lot, she looked around to see if anyone was around before apperating to the door of one of their bars. The guard nodded at her to go in down the stone stairs as the building was split between the bar below and the club on the ground floor. Opening the wooden door as one foot remained on the stone stairs, the atmosphere in the room shifted to be far more tense and even the music seemed to become muffled. Her sharp eyes traced the room and the people in it, noting a new face she hadn’t seen before even in the low light. She let one brief moment pass before entering the room fully, the door closing with a quiet but decisive click. Her shoes were near silent as she slowly walked into the room, not needing to use haste although she raised her eyebrows in mild surprise as the new arrival moved towards her with confidence, a dark glass of red wine in one hand and a glass of bourbon in the other. She had spotted him whispering with an annoyed looking Travers several moments prior, but now she genuinely was rather curious. The fact he was almost achingly attractive certainly didn’t hurt and they were strangely dressed similarly, which was unusual as nearly all death eaters wore wizards robes. The tension in the room was so palpable she almost felt giddy from it, but she smiled as she took the drink from him, the glass having a broad base but being quite tall. She didn’t recognise the term he used as he greeted her but she could sense no malice or insult from it, so she greeted him in turn. His accent was strange but not at all unpleasant and she guessed that it was from Eastern Europe.
“Good evening Mr…?” She asked softly, her voice having an aristocratic lilt. Scanning his face to see if she knew anyone who looked similar, she supposed he had several features in common with the Carrows, although if he was related he definitely inherited the best of both their looks. Allowing the aroma of the rich wine to entwine with her senses, she met his eyes with fierce intensity. It was not hostile however, but more inquisitive, as if she found him a pleasant anomaly from her usual company. Sipping the drink as he asked her to host the meeting from his table, her smile widened as she not only agreed but claimed delight at being asked, shock rippling throughout the room. Very few of them ever had the gall to try and interact with her as an actual human being rather than a military commander and now they were kicking themselves, as she was seemingly enjoying the experience.
Moving over to the table he had indicated, she gave Travers a flat look as she knew the sort of things he said about her when he didn’t think she was listening. He was little more than a tramp and a perverted one at that, but he unsurprisingly knew all the criminal circles which was the only thing that kept him alive. She was half tempted to invite him back to her apartment just so she could torture him, but her self respect was worth more than punishing that creep. The mere idea of him getting anywhere near her made her skin crawl with revolution, but she dismissed such thoughts from her mind so she could concentrate.
“Good evening everyone.” She began and many of them responded in the pause she gave them before she continued. “First of all, I would like to welcome our newest member to our ever-growing family. Secondly, I have good news for all of you. In the wake of our various attacks the order is spreading its resources thin, leaving many of their hideouts weakly defended. And we believe we’ve found one.”
She kept smiling as the change in atmosphere from tense to excited, and many of them openly laughed and cheered at the prospect of hitting the order.
“And I have even better news again” She followed, pausing for dramatic effect “The inner circle rides out with us.”
[/div][/div][/div]
[div class=tagbox][div class=pic][/div] London Apartment/Underground Bar
Excited, flattered
Interactions: Security guard, Door guard, Ambrose [/div][/div][/div]
Chucking the damp towel on top of the door that separated the wardrobe from the rest of her apartment, she got dressed into the comfortable outfit, smirking slightly as she looked at the full length wall mirror that stood opposite the entrance. Despite the sheer madness of her life she wasn’t covered in any scars unless one counted the dark mark on her left forearm, although it was now hidden by her outfit. She did not do so because she was ashamed of it however, as just like the other members of the inner circle she considered it an honour to be marked for greatness by their Dark Lord, but simply because it would’ve made the outfit look very peculiar to have her arms left bare.
Picking out a pair of pointed but plain black leather boots, the heel on them moderate but not obnoxious, she finally turned her attention to her still slightly damp hair. She had recently dyed it metallic white again and she twirled a loose strand of it while she considered how to style it this time. She liked having it braided, especially in combat, but that only really looked good with dresses and some wizard robes. She could have it up in a high ponytail she supposed, but she usually reserved that for when she was in her father’s presence due to him apparently liking it, although she found it rather irksome. By all accounts she was unlikely to see him tonight anyways as Bella had bragged about him inviting her to dinner, but she hadn’t bothered to confirm it. If her father wanted to speak to her she’d know about it, so there was little point in interrupting whatever he was doing. Deciding just to have it down, she used her wand to dry it and then applied product to ensure it remained glossy and in place. It covered her ears until only the very bottom could be seen, part of it coming down to frame her face but most of it cascading down her back. Checking herself over in the mirror, she put her wand back in her inner blazer pocket before picking out a gold watch, the only piece of jewelry on her aside from a hidden necklace under her shirt, the two top buttons undone as she wasn’t wearing a tie.
Finally walking out the wardrobe, she thought over what she was going to say one last time as she exited her exquisite apartment, locking it behind her with both a key and her wand. Wards stopped her apperating directly into or from the flat but it never really became an issue as she could just walk outside and apperate from there. Calling a lift to the top floor, she nodded to the smartly dressed muggle man inside as the metal doors closed behind her. She didn’t like the lift but she had spent so long getting ready that she now didn’t have time to walk down the twenty odd flights of stairs that separated her from the ground floor. Although the sensation made her feel mildly nauseous it was not evident in her face or demeanor as she fell into her usual state of powerful calm. The other man glanced at her back anxiously as he felt (but could not explain) the subtle energy that seemed to radiate from the young woman and he was glad when he got off before her, leaving her in there alone. Choosing not to apperate until she got out the building incase it was caught on camera, she nodded to the security guard positioned at the door, handing him her keycard so it could be scanned through.
“Have a good evening Ms Slytherin.” The bulky muggle said and she thanked him, taking back her card and placing it back in a very slim leather purse. It’d been a nightmare getting verified by the British government as a citizen and had required a lot of false documents and altered memories, but now she was one it made so many things easier. She even had her own set of bank cards, not that she’d ever explained where that money had come from.
Walking into a nearby parking lot, she looked around to see if anyone was around before apperating to the door of one of their bars. The guard nodded at her to go in down the stone stairs as the building was split between the bar below and the club on the ground floor. Opening the wooden door as one foot remained on the stone stairs, the atmosphere in the room shifted to be far more tense and even the music seemed to become muffled. Her sharp eyes traced the room and the people in it, noting a new face she hadn’t seen before even in the low light. She let one brief moment pass before entering the room fully, the door closing with a quiet but decisive click. Her shoes were near silent as she slowly walked into the room, not needing to use haste although she raised her eyebrows in mild surprise as the new arrival moved towards her with confidence, a dark glass of red wine in one hand and a glass of bourbon in the other. She had spotted him whispering with an annoyed looking Travers several moments prior, but now she genuinely was rather curious. The fact he was almost achingly attractive certainly didn’t hurt and they were strangely dressed similarly, which was unusual as nearly all death eaters wore wizards robes. The tension in the room was so palpable she almost felt giddy from it, but she smiled as she took the drink from him, the glass having a broad base but being quite tall. She didn’t recognise the term he used as he greeted her but she could sense no malice or insult from it, so she greeted him in turn. His accent was strange but not at all unpleasant and she guessed that it was from Eastern Europe.
“Good evening Mr…?” She asked softly, her voice having an aristocratic lilt. Scanning his face to see if she knew anyone who looked similar, she supposed he had several features in common with the Carrows, although if he was related he definitely inherited the best of both their looks. Allowing the aroma of the rich wine to entwine with her senses, she met his eyes with fierce intensity. It was not hostile however, but more inquisitive, as if she found him a pleasant anomaly from her usual company. Sipping the drink as he asked her to host the meeting from his table, her smile widened as she not only agreed but claimed delight at being asked, shock rippling throughout the room. Very few of them ever had the gall to try and interact with her as an actual human being rather than a military commander and now they were kicking themselves, as she was seemingly enjoying the experience.
Moving over to the table he had indicated, she gave Travers a flat look as she knew the sort of things he said about her when he didn’t think she was listening. He was little more than a tramp and a perverted one at that, but he unsurprisingly knew all the criminal circles which was the only thing that kept him alive. She was half tempted to invite him back to her apartment just so she could torture him, but her self respect was worth more than punishing that creep. The mere idea of him getting anywhere near her made her skin crawl with revolution, but she dismissed such thoughts from her mind so she could concentrate.
“Good evening everyone.” She began and many of them responded in the pause she gave them before she continued. “First of all, I would like to welcome our newest member to our ever-growing family. Secondly, I have good news for all of you. In the wake of our various attacks the order is spreading its resources thin, leaving many of their hideouts weakly defended. And we believe we’ve found one.”
She kept smiling as the change in atmosphere from tense to excited, and many of them openly laughed and cheered at the prospect of hitting the order.
“And I have even better news again” She followed, pausing for dramatic effect “The inner circle rides out with us.”
[/div][/div][/div]
[div class=tagbox][div class=pic][/div] London Apartment/Underground Bar
Excited, flattered
Interactions: Security guard, Door guard, Ambrose [/div][/div][/div]
code by RI.a
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