warehouse workings (Death Eaters)

[* MEG]

Jezebel gripped her wand tightly, eyes narrowed. It wasn't often she was dragged into Muggle London for work, much less this menial work. It was her job to make sure there were no loose ends, and that's precisely what she was there to do. She glanced at the bulky Death Eater who was by her side, dressed in simple blue jeans and a flannel shirt. Looking up at the man who dwarfed her by a good foot, she nodded towards the entrance to the backalley warehouse.

"He's in there. Correct?" Jezebel asked, slipping the wand into the pocket of her jacket. She was opting for a more sophisticated look that day to carry out her business, wearing a black suit jacket with a matching skirt that went to her knees. Her nude colored nylons were covered with black pumps. A deep marron blouse covered her torso, and a simple string of pearls, stolen from a woman she'd recently murdered, hung around her neck. A pair of pearl earrings and a ring with a pearl enlaid in it completed the look. Her unusual curly brown hair was tamed and put into a bun, her makeup done perfectly.

Her minion nodded, and a smirk pulled at her lips. "Excellent. Guard the door, I shouldn't be long." With that, she entered the building. She'd already cast silencing charms on the place in case her negotiation got out of hand. Sitting, bound and blindfolded in the middle of the room, was a scrawny older man. She waled calmly around him, a predator carefully sizing up her prey. "Why won't the Aurors in Russia talk. You said they would," she asked, causing the frail man to start.

"I... I thought they would... I can't be held responsible for their silence!" He squeaked. Jezebel chuckled darkly, retrieving her wand. "Oh, yes. You can." With that, she muttered, "Crucio," causing the man to scream in agony. "I give you one more chance. Talk or die," she hissed, calming the spell. "I've told you all I know!" He cried. An amused smile painted her lips. "Wrong answer."

"NO, PLEASE!" Was all the man could scream before Jezebel whispered, "Sectumsempra." Three large gashes appeared and the man began to bleed. "If you wish to use your dying breaths to tell me the truth, you've got maybe ten minutes, Mister Goodman. Make them count."

[ransom]

Ransom stood as a witness to the interrogation, he had been assigned to keep an eye on Mister Goodman, so he stood still and silent in the corner, allowing his mistress to work her magic. Goodman, while not a troublesome guest owing to his small size, had been, for lack of a better term, a pain in the ass as far as it came to getting information. Ransom had heard his pleas that he had said all that he knew, though didn't believe them for a second. He knew their kind, they weren't cowards, and would likely keep their secrets to the very end.

He only moved or made noise when his mistress first entered, bowing slightly with a quiet greeting of "Evening, m'Lady." Though a second later resumed his post as guard. Ransom had found it to be quite dull work, mainly because Goodman sat there most of the time, not giving even an ounce of trouble. He, of course, had tortured him on and off throughout the day, if only to amuse himself. Unfortunately he had held strong, and withheld the information that they were after. Ransom would have loved to be the one to get him to talk, though it seemed fate had not been in his favour on that.

Ransom did only the mildest of recoiling when Jezebel sliced the man open, assuring Goodman that he would bleed to death within the next ten minutes. He knew better than to question her ways, but to him it made such an awful mess, all that blood. He didn't mess around when he killed people, Avada Kedavra worked best for him, though if he were to have to kill someone slowly... He would likely opt for poison, if only to avoid the mess and stench of blood everywhere.

He continued to stand still, waiting patiently, knowing that if Goodman was going to say anything that he would do so shortly. Though he would likely be the frustrating sort that held his tongue even in the face of death.

[* MEG]

"Such a pity." Jezebel chastized, shaking her head. Goodman writhed in agony, biting his lip and attempting to keep fromm crying out. It was no use of course, seeing as how deep the cuts were and how profusely he was bleeding. Still, allies to Auror's were such a stubborn bunch, even more stubborn than she, which was surprising. Not many people were. However, after traveling the world and learning many tools of the trade from sister countries, Jezebel had ten years of foreign knowledge crammed into her skull.

Brown eyes flickering over towards one of her most loyal servants, she examined him. Ransom Croft had become the shell of his former self for reasons Jezebel could not place. Still, he was a good man and had served her well during her rise to power, and had been loyal ever since. Besides, not many would accept his kind with open arms as she had. Beasts of such a nature had never disgusted her, making her a perfectly kind soul in her opinion... at least in regards to other magical beings. "I assmue you've heard nothing out of his mouth since this morning?" she asked, eyebrows arching slightly.

Jezebel turned her gaze back upon the dying man, a gleeful smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. It was a morbid thing, really, but, as Jezebel saw it, she was cleansing the world of scum. Ministry folk had done her wrong, and therefore had to pay the price. This was just the tiniest morsel. There would be others. Many others. At the very top of her perfect list was her wretched sister and that loathsome Minister husband of hers...

[ransom]

Ransom kept his eyes on Goodman as the blood gushed from his open wounds, though frankly it was beginning to disgust him. He had no problem with death and torture so long as it was magically inflicted without meaningless bloodshed. It might make for a more... dramatic effect, though it seemed hardly worth it to him. Ransom shifted his weight around on his feet, allowing his mind to wander slightly. Abigail was further along now, carrying his baby. They still didn't know whether or not the child would be liked him in regards to lycantrhopy, but they did know that they were expecting a little girl.

He was determined to be the father for her that he never had, all while keeping his true agenda hidden from both her and Abigail. That would ruin all. Above all else he was a faithful servant to his mistress, she had been the one to take him when the rest of the world shunned him, providing him with a purpose. He was brought out of his thoughts when Jezebel directed words at him rather than their dying prisoner. He shook his head. "Unfortunately not, perhaps your methods will prove a bit more... effective," said Ransom, and then fell quiet once more.

His mind wandered some more, it was strange to wrap his mind around the fact that come November he would be a father. A proper one, determined to be in the picture. Ransom blinked again to bring himself out of his ponderings, his duty was to remain vigilant, though it was more than obvious that poor Goodman wasn't going to be going anywhere. At least not while he was still alive. A slight smirk pulled at his lips however when Goodman finally released a shuddering gasp of what could only be the utmost agony.

[* MEG]

As Goodman moaned in utmost agony, Jezebel's smile widened. "Well, we may be getting information yet, Croft," she replied, stepping forward. Careful to step opposite where the blood was flowing, she bent down, seizing the man's chin and directing his gaze towards her, ripping the blindfold off. His bright green eyes were growing dim, but were nonetheless wide with fear. "Are you going to talk, or not?" she asked, tone growing bored. The man hesitated, then proceeded to sob, nodding vigorously. "Yes, yes! I'll talk, I'll talk! Just heal me!"

Jezebel smirked, then stood, whipping out her wand. With one wave, the man was bandaged and with another, the blood on the floor was wiped clean with a large rag that had flown from the other side of the room. Placing the rag on the man's shoulder and laughing as he cringed, Jezebel eyed him. "Well?" she asked, growing rather impatient. "Some of them are hidden within the Swiss Alps, in secret chambers underground. But, that's all I know, I swear! Please let me go..."

"You best be telling the truth, Mister Goodman. I won't hesitate to go after your wife and daughters if I find you are lying," Jezebel warned sternly, like she were scolding a child. The man whimpered. "Wait! Wait, there's more! Some are hidden underneath Ollivander's shop in the tunnels below Diagon Alley!" Jezebel's smirk grew. "Excellent. Thank you, for your cooperation, Goodman. You may go." With a flick of her wand, the wounded man was released from his bonds.

Standing, he staggered towards the door, but was blocked by the bulky man outside. Horrified, he turned towards Jezebel. "Y-y-you said I could go!" he squeaked in fear. Casually examining her wand, she smiled. "You may leave, that much is true. Leave this world. I thought that much was obvious?" she purred, brown eyes meeting his, her malicious intent known. Goodman took in the words for a moment, eyes growing wide before the large Death Eater had him by the throat. "Goodbye, Mister Goodman," Jezebel stated, pointing her wand at him. "Avada Kedavra," she started, voice raised slightly in glee. A jet of green shot out of her wand and hit Goodman straight in the chest. The man didn't even have the chance to scream.

[ransom]

In spite of how much he had tried to keep his focus, Ransom found that his mind wandered off again and the corners of his lips turned downward into a slight frown- a telltale sign that he was deep in thought. Suppose that the child was like him? Ransom wouldn't be able to live with himself, knowing that he had given lycanthropy to an innocent child, forced it upon her the way it had been for him. He might not have been a morally strong person, but transferring his condition to someone else was a boundary he had yet to cross, and likely wouldn't ever.

Mainly because he knew what it was like, to be one of society's most despised members. Be turned away before he had so much as opened his mouth. Ransom would hate for his unborn daughter to suffer the same fate. If only there were a way, now, that they could find out once and for all whether or not the girl would also suffer through the hell that was lycanthropy. Though the only tests available couldn't be performed until after the baby was born, they would have to wait four agonizingly long months before they could know.

Ransom forcibly removed himself from his thoughts when Jezebel ripped off Goodman's blindfold, revealing both herself and him to the frail man. He looked white as a sheet from all the blood he had lost, his eyes very dim indeed, though they still had that remarkable terror- the sheer horror that Ransom had only ever seen in people inches away from death. The poor thing, under the impression that he was going to make it home alive, see his wife and children once more. Why was it that they always thought on the bright side of things? Their bright sides ended the moment they were captured.

Thankfully, however, he had given the information that they were after before Jezebel finally killed him. He never really did stand a chance, Ransom almost felt sorry for him in a way, though he had been a massive thorn in their side for such a very long time... "Never do learn, do they?" said Ransom, lightly shaking his head. Surely people knew that when they saw anyone's face that they were going to die. If they knew identities, they would talk, and talking wasn't something that ever helped them.

[* MEG]

Jezebel shook her head in dismay, though her vain smile counteracted the motion. "I doubt they ever will," she replied. The large Death Eater dropped the man gently on the ground, and Jezebel looked at her accomplice. "Store him... somewhere. I don't care what you do with the body, just get it done," she replied softly. Turning towards Ransom, she examined her nails. Looking up, she barely noticed Ransom looked as though he had something on his mind. It was none of her concern, nor did she really care.

Jerking her head slightly towards the door, she glanced at him. "We've more business to attend to. It's looking as though I might have to call a meeting to discuss what we've learned and dispatch teams. Our allies in Russia in charge of the interrogation will have to wait until I can send someone over to give them the news," she stated. They'd have to Apparate to the meeting place rather quickly, for this news wasn't something that could wait.

[ransom]

For not the first time Ransom found himself half-wondering what had prompted Jezebel to begin her rise to power in the first place. Everyone on their side had a story, yes, theirs was a crew riddled with past problems, but it was through those problems that their world would be made right again. Ransom without a doubt knew that once Jezebel was in charge once and for all people like him wouldn't be made to hide. Lycanthropy would not be made such a struggle, at least not socially. He would be able to walk the streets at full moons, have the freedom to be outside in wolf form.

Ransom listened patiently as Jezebel explained that they had more business to tend to before the day was out, which he was quite thankful for. Since obtaining his parents' fortune he had been woefully bored, hopefully whatever the news was might involve something extra for him to do. Ransom had not been on any sort of mission in a long time. Though of course, he did not want to leave Abigail alone and with child for too long... "Yes m'Lady," said Ransom, following her outside where they would be able to disapparate to their typical meeting spot.

[* MEG]

Jezebel Apparated the moment both feet were over the threshold of the warehouse. She appeared just outside of the gates of the Malfoy Manor, Ransom on her tail. Patiently, she awaited Draco to open the gates. The tall man came hurrying out of the building, breathing heavily. He opened the gates and bowed low to his mistress. "M'Lady, I didn't expect you here and..." he started, though his sentence was cut short by an impatient wave of Jezebel's hand.

"I don't have time for your games, Malfoy. Get inside and call the others, I'll be in shortly," she said sharply. Draco bowed low and then bolted inside, pushing up his sleeve to signal the others. Jezebel slowly made her way towards the large manor, taking in the surroundings. The place was marvelous, elegant and tasteful. The albino peacocks strutting around added to the scene. Still, Jezebel couldn't help but notice that Draco's house elves had been neglecting his hedges. They'd have to be punished, those loathsome creatures, not doing the work asked of them.

[ransom]

Ransom apparated half a second after Jezebel, though the loud, whip-like cracking noise he made resonated in the alley a few seconds after he had gone. He stood patiently outside of Malfoy Manor, crinkling his nose a bit at the albino peacocks strutting about, to him they were rather unnecessary. The world knew of the Malfoys' wealth, the peacocks he felt were just pretentious. The grounds were kept lush and beautiful, even in the baking July heat. Ransom held back a chuckle at Draco fumbling over his own words at their sudden arrival, for such an affluent and influential person, at times he could behave as anything but.

But in knowing his place, he kept quiet, and would remain so until someone spoke to him directly. Ransom followed behind Jezebel to go inside of the impressive manor, though recently he was being less and less impressed by it because of his own property. Large estates were no longer novelty for him after living in one for several months. Ransom was eager for their meeting to begin, to find out what it was that Jezebel needed to tell them in order for the next phase of their plan to begin.