waiting... (open)

[malfoygirl]

Ariadne sat, disguised. She was on official Death Eater business. She'd somehow climbed the ranks and was one of Jezebel's most trusted spies. It was a difficult, grueling position, but Ariadne was proud of it. There wasn't much to the spying game nowadays, but she was getting sent out more and more to monitor Aurors and Hit Wizards alike. The danger of the job just fueled her further. Smoothing out the long, frumpy skirt she was wearing, she blinked her eyes. Their normal, steely color was disguised as a muddy brown, her locks concealed in a short brown wig. Her clothes were simple and disheveled, and her makeup was done so she couldn't easily be recognized.

Frankly, work was getting rather awful. Her sister had been murdered and Ariadne was beyond resentful and heartbroken. Ascella and Ariadne had gotten much closer over their passion for the Dark Arts, and were much more like sisters just before her untimely death. It was a painful thing to go through. Though Ariadne had been able to hide her pain and remain rather stoic and emotionless through it all, she'd cried herself to sleep most nights afterward. The bags under her eyes weren't fake for once, though it helped her disguise. She was acting as the concerned relative of the dying patient in the room, a patient that she was stalking.

Before the day was out, he'd be dead, and she'd have all the information she needed for another Ministry heist.

[ransom]

Ransom quietly slipped into the room, though he looked nothing like himself. A useful concoction, Polyjuice potion. He had simply taken a hair from an unremarkable muggle boy on the underground, and presto! He looked like a gangly, awkward teenager, walking around in robes that were slightly too short and several sizes too big. He spotted Ariadne disguised as a middle-aged woman, and their target lying in the bed, looking very near death. Ransom lightly shook his head, knowing they would be given information that they needed, though it seemed criminally too easy to get things from a dying man. No torture involved, nothing to decode. It was a nice change, though still, he might be able to do with a challenge.

He gave a brief nod in Ariadne's direction before taking up the chair beside him and assuming a hunched over posture, biting his lip, trying to play the part of the awkward teenager he looked like. Soon, they would have what they needed. Soon, they would be making their presence known, as if the first attack on the ministry hadn't done that already. He looked over at Ariadne, feeling something strange in the pit of his stomach. Although he had had nothing to do with her sister's death, Ransom still felt partially responsible.

He had been the first one to hire the young Malfoy girl as a contractor of sorts. Though all the same it had been her own fault, she had gone in too far without making the right connections with the right people. It still saddened Ransom, however. She had been only sixteen, too young to meet such a grisly, terrible fate.

[malfoygirl]

Ariadne lifted her head, noticing the gangly teenager in the room. His eyes met hers, and he gave a brief nod, and she knew immediately that it was Ransom, disguised with Polyjuice. She moved forward, ringing her hands and shuffling forward. Taking the seat next to Ransom, she leaned over slightly. "Well, partner," she said, disdain in her voice. "Your move." It wasn't Ransom's fault. He had been her sister's protector of sorts and Ascella was now dead.

Jezebel had given her condolences, of course. Said that the Aurors had murdered her sister. Ariadne couldn't help but believe it, it was something they would do, after all. The chance to rid the world of one more Pureblood loyal to the Dark Arts had been too great, and Izzie had been too weak and inexperienced to do much fighting back...

[ransom]

Ransom resisted the temptation of putting his fingertips together and resting his chin atop them, to him it seemed too mature a gesture for his disguise. He needed to act like a socially inept, grieving teenager. If asked he was the nephew of the dying man. Son would be too close, raise too much suspicion. But a nephew would be simple enough to pass off, from the little careless research he had done he had found out their target had come from a large family. Ransom nodded to Ariadne, getting up from his chair and walking in a hunched-over, duck-footed matter. He couldn't help but act the part, at any rate it would make him more convincing.

Ransom crinkled his nose a bit in preparation before taking the man's hand. It felt so weak, cold, clammy. It took all his self-restraint to not cringe at the feel of it. This was not the way that Ransom liked death. But it was only temporary, once they had what they needed they wouldn't have to deal with that man again. And he would do what he could to get out of similar missions. Ransom liked action, not sitting around like some sort of vulture.

[malfoygirl]

Ariadne watched her partner, but her mind wasn't on the task at hand. Ransom would be able to handle this on his own, and she'd only step forward if she was needed. Resting her chin in her hands, she closed her eyes and bit back tears. Ariadne was cold and hardly showed any type of emotion other than rage. However, her mind continually traveled to her sister, who was dead and gone. Squeezing her eyes together tightly, she tried to hide the tears threatening to break out. It would have added to her mourning and depressed guise, but she was far from caring at that point.

Ariadne simply couldn't believe Izzie was gone. It wasn't the type of denial that was normal in those left behind after a loved one's passing. She accepted it. Still, it was hard to fathom. Her little sister, the one she had sworn she'd protect at all costs. Gone. Taken by the enemy. Ariadne desperately hoped that one day she'd be able to make her murderers pay. She longed for their screams, their dying breaths. She wanted to watch the light fade from their eyes...

[ransom]

Really, this was all too easy. The dying man was simply wheezing out any sort of information while he said nothing. It seemed that the poor thing was no longer in his right mind, he hadn't even asked who the hell Ransom was. All he needed to do was simply keep quiet as the man spewed forth everything they needed to know and then some. Of course, it might be the Veritiserum that had been slipped into his last supper, though regardless this was much too easy. Ransom just needed to sit there and appear concerned though attempting to hold a brave face for the sake of his "uncle."

He sneaked a glance over at Ariadne, she seemed at the verge of a mental breakdown, he assumed that she was taking the death of her younger sister very hard indeed. Though it at the very least was helping to make her charade slightly more believable. Ransom snapped his gaze back to their target, who was still loosely holding his hand, continuing to blubber forth anything and everything. Ransom bit his lip slightly, he still loathed the way the shriveled hand felt in his own, he thought it might be better if the man were already dead rather than on the brink.

[malfoygirl]

They stayed like that for another twenty minutes. Eventually, the man gasped out one last shred of minimal information before falling limp. Monitors began to go off, and nurses rushed into the room. Ariadne grabbed Ransom back before he could get trampled, then buried her face in her hands, biting her lip. She couldn't help but let a sob escape her at that moment. She was thinking of Izzie, as she often did. No one was with her that night. There was no one to hold her hand until she died, no one to comfort her or cry for her. She died alone.

The thought terrified Ariadne. It wasn't fair. Izzie didn't do anyone any wrong, she didn't deserve to die. The tears flowed freely, and she hunched over. The weakness shown at that moment would have killed her normally, but Ariadne didn't care anymore. There was no point to anything at that point. Even this man had someone near him. Granted, neither person at his bedside cared all that much, but she felt a tug at her heart. Izzie didn't even have that privilege...

[ransom]

Ransom was fairly impressed by the show that Ariadne was putting on, it made her look completely convincing while he continued to appear... Well, awkward. He was a good actor, could smoothly lie out of most situations, though he had never been able to make himself cry. Ransom had feigned it as a child of course, but that was different. Instead he slipped a would-be-comforting lanky arm around Ariadne's shoulders. It was a pleasant change to have contact with living flesh, rather than the cold, waxy feel of someone a fraction of an inch away from death. He looked around the room a quick moment before leading Ariadne from the room.

They couldn't afford to stick around and be interrogated by St. Mungo's staff. Their disguises were convincing, but Ransom for one knew next to nothing about his supposed uncle. At any rate, they had the information that they needed to know, there was no further need for their presence. Ransom bit his lip, making an odd face as if he were holding back tears, though one needn't look further than his eyes to tell the gesture was not at all genuine.

[malfoygirl]

Ariadne bit her lip and felt Ransom's arm slip around her shoulders. Her tears took on new vigor as she stood and leaned into him, shuffling out of the room, face buried in her hands. It was a miserable thing, and she wasn't sure how exactly she could make her way through the hospital. The pair made it out with little difficulty, however, and Ariadne found she was sick to her stomach as they pushed past the doors. The hurried in near silence away from the hospital, Ariadne's sobs ceasing the farther they were away from the hospital.

Eventually, Ransom would be able to tell that her tears were genuine, that she wasn't faking. The thought scared her immensely, but she knew that she'd be found out eventually. Ariadne hated showing her emotions, it made her look weak. Weakness was no where near acceptable for a woman of her stature and status. They rounded yet another corner and stopped, away from people. Ariadne stepped away from Ransom and wiped her nose on her sleeve, drying her eyes and tearing off her wig. Her blonde hair tumbled out in waves around her shoulders, further concealing her face. Attempting to stop crying, she leaned against the alley wall, head resting back as her face scrunched up tightly together.

[ransom]

Ransom was immensely thankful that they made it outside without anyone paying much attention to him, as he was beginning to shrink slightly in height as the Polyjuice wore off, fill in his robes with his toned muscle that the teenage boy had lacked. By the time they ducked into a deserted alley he was in a state midway between himself and the awkward young man. No, Ransom did not care for Polyjuice, though it was damn effective for things such as these. Looking away from his hands where the fingers were shrinking in length and becoming stronger, his gaze fell on Ariadne. She looked as if she were struggling to pull herself together.

Perhaps the tears hadn't been an act as he had previously thought. He wasn't a particularly empathetic person, really the only people in the world he placed any value on were Abigail and his daughter Rose, though something in the way her eyes looked... He could tell that she was hurting. And Ransom didn't exactly know what to do. He was a little alarmed, however, Jezebel couldn't afford to have such emotionally unstable persons in her following. Though he couldn't not say anything... "You all right?" asked Ransom finally.