Who: Draven, Dax and Penny. When: Evening. Where: Dax's Ministry given flat, where Penny is also staying. Summary: Draven was itching to get out and do some damage anyhow, Lord Voldemort's message was more than enough to pull him from the finishing details of his butchery in Knockturn Alley. Rating: HIGH AF, likely triggers in here so if you offend easily, don't read. VIOLENCE. We'll say RATED R. COMPLETE.
Draven slid the hood of his black robes up over his head as he finished locking up the butchery. It was a few mere final touches left before it would be completed and ready for its grand opening. The shop still smelled too pure on the inside for Draven's personal tastes, the location untouched by blood and lacking the echos of screams from countless victims, creature and human alike.
His brother had left before him, but Draven rushed for nobody, not even the dark lord. He did things on his own time, and he did them to his own liking, regardless of anything done or being said to him. That was just the way that he was, it would be how he would always be. In the pocket of his robes was his carving knife, the same one that he had been using since he was a child. He had done plenty of damage with it throughout his life and it was always his go to tool when he wanted to remind people who they were going to be, whether they wanted to hear it or not.
Apparating from Knockturn Alley right outside a specific address he had been sent, Draven peered at the flat from the outside. It was a standard sort of flat, nothing prestigious about it. He took into account of the small details, ones that most others wouldn't make note of. He detailed in his mind every exit route that could be taken if his present victims chose to run, whether it be through a door or a window, which was always Draven's favorite part of the kill. The chase and struggle when it presented itself was something that Draven greatly enjoyed. A challenge was always better more so than an easy target, it made things more interesting.
The lights were on inside of the flat and Draven noticed a female shadow moving past one of the windows. That was all Draven needed to see before he began walking up to the flat, his hand moving out as he used a non verbal spell, blowing the front door right off of its very hinges. To ensure that nobody escaped via back door or window, his other hand shot out and flew up in the air as large, thick, heavy black vines grew up over the entirety of the house, blocking any way out other than where Draven was now standing.
Noticing the female whose shadow Draven had seen in the window moments before, he removed his hood and looked at her. Not as how a regular individual would look at another, but as a hunter would eye their upcoming prey.
"Penelope Clearwater?" He questioned with a raised brow, but yet not really questioning her at all as he moved towards her. "It's definitely a pleasure," he commented with a sneer as he reached out his hand, grabbing her by the arm roughly and pulling her closer to him. "I'm here to remind you of your loyalties to your lord." Of course, it could have been noted that Draven did not refer to Voldemort as his own lord, but instead of hers and hers alone.