Robber (Any Death Eater)

[arianna]

Arianna stood over the body. Perhaps she shouldn't have made such a mess on her freshly waxed foyer floor. She wrinkled her nose. This was going to be hard to hide. Her neighbors had already noted her odd hours she kept, asking if she was seeing a certain man. Most of her duties were in the dark hours of the night, coming late from the store, performing her tasks as Death Eater, and then returning home with the moon high in the sky. She was a night owl, anyway.

Now, she had to move the lump of a body out of here, and she wasn't going to manage that alone. The robber had picked the wrong house, and she had had a lot of fun with the poor chap before he had met a long, painful death. She'd worked hard to trade for that sword he had been attempting to steal. She'd slit a few throats, and slept with less than satisfactory persons. She wasn't going to gain a little bit of enjoyment out of the muggle born before showing him not to touch her things. She frowned. She had liked this gown. She'd gotten it in Asia, made of pure silk. Now his blood was on it.

She'd sent out a signal for help, waiting to see if someone would be able to help. Honestly, she knew someone was going to chew her ass off for it. It had been far too messy, and drew far too much attention. But as long as someone showed up to help her rid herself of the body, she could handle it. She pulled off the dress, taking another, dark emerald one from the hanger in her laundry room. She knelt beside the body, face butchered almost past recognition. She pinched his cheek.

"Shouldn't have done that," she said quietly, taking his wallet from his trousers. She searched through his identification, obviously a resident in the muggle world. Maybe a wife or sister could pay for the dress. She tossed the wallet aside. He carried so little money with him. Standing, she began mopping at the floor, pushing the body aside. She heard the footsteps on her porch and opened the door to greet whoever had been up at this ungodly hour, preparing her profuse thanks.

[ransom]

Ransom could hardly believe that he was here, at this hour, likely going to do someone else's dirty work. Though Lord knew the man could cover a murder better than anyone- to this day nobody even suspected him of Celeste. As far as the wizarding world was concerned, she had simply vanished without a trace. But she hadn't. She had been kept prisoner in the cellar of his home for nearly two weeks, routinely tortured, denied food and water before he finally killed her, transfigured her corpse, and tossed the button that had used to be her body into the fire. There wasn't a trace of her anywhere.

Though Ransom would help his own, he just hoped that Abigail would still be asleep when he returned home. He was not much in the mood for making excuses as to where he had run off to yet again. But she was an auror, paid to catch people like him- and no matter how much he loved her she could never know the truth about him. Ransom ran a hand through his hair as Arianna greeted him at the door. He peered around her to find quite the bloody mess in her wake. He lightly shook his head, such a muggle exhibition, the work of an amateur.

He stepped inside without being invited, he had work to do, this would be quite a mess to clean up. He could do it, he would just rather that he didn't have to. "What exactly happened?" asked Ransom, more curious than anything else as he pulled out his wand. Yes, it was awfully pureblood of him to whip out his wand for every task, but for things like these it was necessary to properly hide the evidence.

[arianna]

Arianna stepped to the side. It was becoming even more clear in the aftermath that she could have gone about torture in a neater fashion. She set the mop down, closing the door behind Ransom. She looked at the bloody body. "He broke in," she admitted. It was clear she had been perhaps too hasty in almost everything, and she would take the berating without excuses. Silently she kicked herself for amateur moves such as utilizing knives in parts of her fun. "Some mudblood, works at the bank out in London," she ran a hand through her thick, black locks. Her gaze flickered between the solemn Death Eater she knew by Ransom, but she knew little more of him. He was considerably farther ahead of her in the ranks, she knew that from Ariadne's list Draco had created for her. "Thanks for coming," she added. Manners. Something that she had always struggled with. Somehow, they seemed almost useless to her, but others seemed to think it the world. A few did share her view, but it was always better to stay on the safe side, especially with people who were there to aid you.

[ransom]

"Picked the wrong house, then, didn't he?" said Ransom with a dark chuckle. Gore had never disturbed him, it was the psychological factor of certain types of torture that got to him. He still hadn't completely forgotten about the fourteen-year-old girl he had been assigned to rape back in October. Ransom had done it, though that didn't mean he agreed with it. The girl had been innocent, her only fault being that she was the daughter of an auror who had refused to talk. Ransom flicked his wand at the mop Arianna had put aside and it instantly began to clean the mess. He quickly transfigured the body into a small log, smiling slightly at his handiwork. He had always been gifted in transfiguration, actually in many spell areas- he knew his way around spells of most kinds. "Well, then, the world won't miss him," said Ransom as he used magic to place the log into the fireplace. And that was that. He slid his wand up the sleeve of his robes once more. "Don't mention it," said Ransom, "though perhaps next time you might choose a more suitable hour?"

[arianna]

Arianna wouldn't have thought of transfiguring the body. She was pleasantly surprised at how easily the mutilated body was transformed, then burning. She looked to the floor. Blood would be easy enough to clean up, but there was going to be somebody she was going to make pay for the dress, both fiscally and emotionally. "Indeed," she grinned at his mention of the wrong house. She had been thankful the man hadn't been a screamer during the few hours of torture. Her neighbors already thought it strange she was "attracted to such men."

"Of course," she grinned coldly again. Next time, she'd be able to drag it out much longer. She'd been way too rash. It was only now she was realizing what she could have gained from a bank worker: namely money. Muggle money, but money. "Any news?" She asked, gaze flickering from the fire to Ransom. She'd been on constant travel the past few months. What little she'd heard at the moment was from Ariadne, who heard it from Draco. Arianna loved the Malfoys, having practically grown up in their house. Draco, as brilliant as he was, was still arrogant. Even in the list he had given Ariadne, he had believed his name belonged at the top, although there were many others who she knew to be above even the Malfoys.

[ransom]

Ransom quickly ran a hand through his hair, gaze flickering over to the fireplace where the transfigured body was being slowly consumed by a crackling fire that looked as if it had been burning for hours. The poor bloke, he really had not known what he was getting himself into. Arianna might be messy, but she could handle herself on her own, that much was for sure. In a way Ransom admired it, he didn't have the gall to be so... archaic. He inflicted his pain with magic. Yes, it was quite pure-blooded of him to act in that manner, though frankly he didn't give a damn.

It was so much easier to simply make entire people disappear with magic. He looked back to Arianna, tiredness showing in his eyes. Having a four-month-old who still woke several times during the night drained him. That and full moon had been less than a week ago, transformations always exhausted him. "Nothing to speak of," said Ransom, "though I imagine that something will happen soon, my instincts aren't usually wrong." He folded his arms, gaze going back to the fire once more, as if he were fascinated by it.

[arianna]

Arianna looked at Ransom. When he spoke of instincts, she nodded. Even she could feel the swirling tension, the growing excitement and the visions of success hanging somewhere on the horizon for her. Her gaze fell on the log, burning as all mudbloods ought to be. A perfect ending. Happily ever after. She took in Ransom, eyes giving away how exhausted the man was.

"Would you like a cup of tea before you leave?" She offered. Something to help relax. It was the least she could do after the trip here. With a flick of her wand she began heating the water, knowing she herself would enjoy a cup of tea. With another flick the sword which the bastard had attempted to steal resumed it's rightful position up on the wall, over the crimson red sofa.

[ransom]

Ransom wasn't sure why he felt this way, though he for whatever reason inwardly knew something was going to happen soon for their cause. Something big. He was definitely toward the inner ranks, though there was still a lot going on that Ransom had not been told about. He wasn't bitter about it, he understood he had more time yet to put in, and that the fewer people that were in on a plan the less likely it was for it to be ruined. He was brought out of his half-hearted thoughts when Arianna spoke, offering tea. Frankly, he was impressed, she didn't come off as the hospitable kind to him.

"If it's not imposing," said Ransom, truthfully, he would like to go to bed, but there were certain social obligations. One did not simply hide a body for someone and just leave it at that. At any rate, Ransom probably wouldn't be able to go back to sleep anyway- though he was tired he felt somehow wide-awake. It was a peculiar feeling, one that seemed to contradict itself, though there really wasn't another way of describing it.

[arianna]

Arianna knew from his tone that he figured she wasn't the typical type to offer tea. But his accepting made it easier. It was hard to think of social protocol, mind still buzzing from the hours of power she had just felt. She nodded with a slight smile, glad he had accepted. "After that, there is no way you could impose," she said with a slight laugh. He had saved her ass, and she knew that had been a dangerous game. But it was fun. It was that sort of thinking Ariadne warned her about, and she had to comply. It seemed that Ariadne was much better at the social protocol than Arianna, who preferred the straight forward method.

The kettle alerted that the water was heated and with another flick, set it on a tray. She brought it to rest on the coffee table, gesturing for Ransom to take a seat, if he wanted. She wasn't going to keep him long. It was almost an obligation to thank him somehow, and words weren't her thing. Many people could have tortured victims with words, playing on insecurities, as a friend of hers in Australia had done. But she wasn't good at the mind games. If it were up to her, her vocabulary may only be limited to hexes and curses. She took her own seat in a chair across from the sofa, taking a cup. The calming tea had some help in the buzz jolting through her mind, but her long, slender fingers still twitched as she thought of everything she could have done. The power she held.

[ransom]

Ransom was actually vaguely impressed, Arianna seemed to know how to conduct herself quite well. He simply hated it when people he worked with weren't polite. He was above many of them and he expected to be treated as such, though there were those, like the young woman now serving him tea, who didn't do much by way of etiquette. Though Ransom liked the formal, he assumed that it was his sudden influx in wealth that had granted him this liking. Now he could afford to do whatever he damn well pleased, and he found that he rather liked the lavish to the point of being unnecessary.

Ransom seated himself after Arianna gestured it, glad for a chance to rest his sleep-deprived feet. He quietly took a cup of tea, holding it delicately by the handle while he waited for the contents to cool. He supposed that now there would be some sort of brief conversation before he would be on his way again, though whatever it was Ransom had no clue how to go about initiating it. He was tired, and it showed on his face, for the first time in a long while Ransom likely looked his age, or perhaps haggard.

[arianna]

Arianna held the warm cup in her hands, allowing it to cool her icy grasp. Her skin was hardly the average temperature, and she was often cold. Even in summer. She surveyed Ransom over the cup, who seemed as if sitting had drained him of even more energy. It was clear, and brought some relief, that he wouldn't be staying long. The attempt at respect, which she personally thought was being performed quite well, wasn't as simple as she had thought it would be. There were little things her mother had constantly ridden on her, that she half wished she had bothered to listen to. She took another sip, realizing conversation would be necessary.

"So how are things on the home front?" He could share as little as he pleased, as long as it filled the awkward silence until the tea was finished, and the log was thoroughly burned. She didn't expect someone ranked so higher than herself to share his innermost secrets, but she could at least show interest. It was better than the weather topic her mother constantly fell back onto.

[ransom]

Ransom lightly sipped his tea to prevent himself from yawning, really he was quite tired, though it would be rude of him to openly yawn in front of his hostess. Manners were a delicate thing in their organization, it seemed that Jezebel liked her followers to be civil- at least to each other. Not that he had a problem with that, he detested people that weren't polite. Ransom simply sat in the silence, figuring that he would speak when Arianna decided she was going to start conversation- at any rate he appreciated the quiet. His eyes flickered over to the clock, he needed to keep track of the time so he would be home when Rose woke for her next feeding.

Abigail needn't know that he had gone anywhere. He held eye contact as Arianna posed her question. Small talk, simply polite conversation, though boring. "Fine, uneventful, though comfortable," Ransom answered vaguely. He was very private about his life with Abigail, most of his fellow Death Eaters were entirely oblivious to the fact that he was living with his girlfriend and they had had a daughter together. Ransom would rather keep it that way.

[arianna]

Arianna nodded along as he spoke, listening with all the interest she could muster. He seemed to be rather understanding with how much she strained to be as polite as she was. Growing up as the rebellious eldest child in her rich, mannered and phony family, she had resented the ideas of manners. However, Jezebel had made the message clear that every detail to show comradery was important. Just a week ago she had made an example of one man who was late, torturing him for a good twenty minutes before them, before making short work of him and having his body wheeled from the room, still in his uniform identical to theirs. It was then she had mustered an apology to her parents, who had been among the ranks far longer than herself.

"That's great," she answered. Personally, he seemed unemotional about everything remaining quiet. Arianna lived off of events, and adrenaline. To each his own. However, there would not be much action when he lived by himself, as she did. She appreciated how vague it was. That would lead to more questions. Now that the initial hump of conversation had passed, she had completed her mental checklist of manners. It was no his turn to decide what was acceptable.

[ransom]

Ransom once again sipped his tea, he did not want to appear overly eager to leave, though the hour was late, and he did need his rest. Or at the very least return before Abigail woke to feed their daughter. Bless her soul, she was quite the heavy sleeper- his girlfriend hadn't even done the mildest of flinches when he slipped from their bed. She would probably still be in the same position he left her in when he returned home. Ransom sipped his tea again, finding it a useful tactic to prevent impolite yawning. He had seen what happened to people who weren't polite, even though Arianna did not strike him as the type to hold much stock in manners.

Ransom only nodded in response, attempting to figure what would be an acceptable amount of time before he would excuse himself and return home. He still had a good half hour to forty-five minutes before he absolutely needed to get back- so Ransom wasn't in a great hurry, though he was tired and wished to return to his slumber. But he would pay his dues, sleep could wait. It wasn't like he had anything to do come morning.