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Tweak says, "WHEEHEHEHEHE"

The Recruitment : NPC (recruitment_npc) wrote in the_recruitment,
@ 2012-02-10 23:57:00

Entry tags:

! 02/1977, ! complete, ! thread, char: lucius malfoy, char: rodolphus lestrange, npc: lord voldemort

Who: Lord Voldemort and his faithful followers
What: A dark meeting. Of dark matters. And dark proportions.
Where: Voldemort's super secret location. Read: Borgin & Burke's basement.
When: Sunday, 9 am sharp
Status: Complete
Rating: PG-ish; may rise depending upon the level of defiance.

I feel the fire burning in my veins,
Lightning strikes at my command.

As the clock within the shop basement was ticking closer to the 9 am mark, the cloaked figure that stood before a crate of dark artifacts slowly turned, tips of its robes brushing against the dusty concrete of the basement at Borgin & Burke's. This place was warded well and a watch was kept on it at all hours, due to the nature of the items within as well as the esteemed guest who saw it as the perfect meeting place for his loyal followers.

The name 'Lord Voldemort' wasn't yet known enough to cause mass hysteria, but if he had his way over the next few months, he and his followers would bring the wrath of the dark side of magic upon those fools who saw it necessary to promote muggle detritus within the Wizarding world. Turning again, slowly and meticulously, he positioned himself before the very centre of the concrete jungle, again observing the singular clock in the room as it was about to chime the appropriate time.

The violence of his anger befall the head of the Death Eater who should keep their Lord waiting.

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recruitment_npc
2012-02-11 08:11 am UTC (link)

Cold, lifeless lips curled up in a farce of a smile, which appeared more gruesome and sadistic than a smile should. But then, Lord Voldemort didn't concern himself with appearing welcoming or warm in any sense. His cold eyes turned about the room, noting as his most loyal followers appeared, one by one, until the small clock chimed louder than it appeared capable of. A small handful of his closest followers had taken up his robes and kissed it in turn, but he noted with satisfaction that Lucius had been the first. As the time slowly ticked past the 9 mark, one of his followers bumbled in late, causing Voldemort's gaze to harden and slowly follow the man's scrambling kneel, no doubt hoping that he could cover up his folly.

With little warning, his lips curled back to reveal sharpened teeth and his wand emerged from within his robes, snapping toward the late figure. "Crucio!" his voice hissed, procumbent nose wrinkling in his sneer and subsequent enjoyment of the man's wretching cries. His hood fell back, revealing the pain-stricken face of Rosier Sr.

During the demonstration of his displeasure, Voldemort's gaze looked at his other followers, noting one of his favourites closer to him than the others, her very subtle laughter music to his ears. "Bellatrix," he drawled, expression now smooth and almost pleased, "Reiterate to my followers what happens when one of them is late." His hissing voice was so even and controlled that it was almost overpowered by Rosier's continued cries. Voldemort quickly snapped his wand back and the man was released from the pain, dropping to his back, his breath returning in shallow waves.

Bellatrix giggled in a barely restrained display of her amusement and relayed that their revered Lord would dole out the worst forms of punishment if they should disobey his direct orders again. Satisfied, Voldemort nodded for her to kneel again. He stood again in the centre of the room and watched Rosier return to his kneeling position, a little worse for wear but murmuring his apologies.

"Apology accepted, Rosier. Let it never happen again." With the affirming nod, he addressed the rest of the basement, "You may rise, my faithful followers, and tell me your progress. Lucius," he started, gaze penetrating the hooded figure, focusing on the wisps of flaxen hair barely visible from within. Abraxas Malfoy stood not far behind him, rising a little taller at his son's mention, knowing that he would be done proud.

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parentalia
2012-02-11 08:41 am UTC (link)

Taking note of the others that arrived, ever curious as to when new members would show up and who they would be, Rodolphus' personal head count faltered as his blue eyes found the familiar, comely features of one in particular. He stared from is kneeling position as raptly as she admired the Dark Lord until the noise of everything around him grew muffled under the weight of obsession. The look of serenity on his face wasn't one normally displayed by those meeting secretly in private rooms of Knockturn Alley but given the importance of others also in attendance it was highly unlikely that anyone was paying attention to him.

His attention snapped back into focus at the sound of a scream and he cursed himself silently for his lack of presence. The grown man on the floor writhed as if his own insides were assaulting him and Rodolphus strained, practically salivating, to hear the sound of breaking bone. Sadly, their Lord proved merciful. In a sigh, he released a breath he hadn't been aware he'd been holding as Rosier pulled himself back amongst the ranks. One day he'd have to try that, Voldemort's Cruciatus. It would be the only way he'd know how powerful He truly was. Relying on the accounts of others risked exaggeration due to weakness. It would be awful but knowing so only made him even more curious. If only he could figure out a way to be hexed without having done anything wrong to deserve it.

The knees of his robes were dirty when he stood and he noted, with a smug satisfaction, that Lucius' were too. He waited for the report silently with everyone else just as eager for an answer as Voldemort was. He could tell the news was good, Lucius' shoulders were too straight for his report to be anything else.

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luciusmalfoi
2012-02-11 09:05 am UTC (link)

Lucius rose with the ranks, having quietly heard more than observed the punishment of Rosier Sr. He almost wanted to smirk, secure in the fact that he would never receive such a punishment if he continued to please his Lord as he was. When the Dark Lord called upon him, he felt his skin prickle and that desperately wanting to return, given the excellent report that he had to make. Managing to compose himself so that he would not give anything away to his fellow Death Eaters, Lucius stepped forward and pushed his hood back, revealing a cool expression and stony eyes.

"My Lord, I have completed my task successfully. The tools are ready for your use." He let his shoulders loosen up a fraction as he added in a soft yet confident tone, "Might I request the assistance of another to complete my next task?" As soon as he'd said it, Lucius cursed himself and his head dropped down to avoid disrespecting Voldemort. Although it was unspoken between Master and Servant that he would receive whatever assistance he needed as this task was of the utmost importance, it was never wise to speak before his turn.

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recruitment_npc
2012-02-11 09:22 am UTC (link)

Lord Voldemort listened to the short report with satisfaction, knowing that the task would be completed in a timely manner. But as he heard the second half of what Lucius had to say, a flicker of annoyance flashed through his bloodshot gaze. Lifting his left arm and pulling back the sleeve, his wand tip touched the Dark Mark and a searing sensation began. He leaned his head back, seemingly enjoying the sensation, while the rest of the Death Eaters would surely feel the white-hot pain coursing through their own Marks in punishment for one outspoken member.

While he could continue in this manner for hours, he let loose a mild hiss and removed the wandtip after a minute or two, stepping forward and watching Lucius's suddenly colourless expression. Another garish smile stretched his pale lips. "Lucius, do not speak out of turn, or risk your fellow followers giving you their thanks for your insolence." Turning to gaze at the other Death Eaters and measuring each one up, eventually his perceptive eyes latched onto Rodolphus Lestrange. Taking a step back, he waved Lucius's attention to the slightly older Death Eater.

"You may make use of Lestrange for the remainder of your task. He must yet prove his worth to me. But if there is any failure in acquiring the recruits that I need..." The smile turned into a thin line and he gave them all a very serious look. "Heed my warning, Lucius. Do not fail in this task. I require the purest of blood and the most malleable of minds. Do what you must."

Turning away from Lucius, he passed several of his Death Eaters, who parted like an obedient black wave until Voldemort stood before Rodolphus. With a tilt of his head, he addressed the young man, equal warning present in his voice. "Lestrange, do not disappoint me. You may yet prove yourself worthy of my further attentions if you succeed. What have you to say?"

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parentalia
2012-02-11 09:43 am UTC (link)

Rodolpus maintained a steady composure as agony oozed it's way from the Mark in a halo of pain that they all had Lucius to thank for. The notion of ruling through fear and promoting an environment of rivalry amidst a group of like minded individuals certainly weren't new ideas when it came to dictatorship but never before had he seen them pulled off as sickly as Voldemort did. Using your allies as stepping stones in The Dark Lord's presence was a curse as much as it was a reward. It may have given you opportunity but it certainly left enemies in your wake and also brought you to the attention of someone unforgiving of failure. Of course that didn't matter if you never erred except for the fact that sooner or later everyone screwed up.

As the sensation faded Rodolphus resisted the urge to examine his arm or shake off the reminder of the pain. He kept his limbs straight at his sides which was even harder to do when Voldemort surveyed his pawns for a viable recruit. Not even at Hogwarts or in Quidditch had he ever wanted to be picked so badly for anything.

He liked to believe his psychic chant of "me, me, me" in his head had something to do with being called on but the fact that he really hadn't done anything to prove his value was more likely the cause. He averted his eyes as Voldemort approached as silent and final as death, and stared instead at his mouth, his own trembling against his desire to grin. "My Lord," he answered, his voice betraying only his confidence, "If it were me, I wouldn't require an additional man but I am more than willing to make up for the ability Lucius lacks."

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recruitment_npc
2012-02-11 10:05 am UTC (link)

Throughout Rodolphus's reply, he felt a different smile than his prior creep along thin, slightly distorted lips. This one was composed of all manner of sadism and satisfaction, making Voldemort look almost manic. He readily appreciated the enthusiasm which he sensed being held back from this one's mind. Tempted by the hint that he got, he touched his wand to the young Death Eater's chin and lifted until he could stare into his very mind. Voldemort's Legilimency was powerful and usually tore down all sorts of walls. There was very little it couldn't penetrate, leaving his victims feeling violated and exposed. Seeing the touch of eccentricity as well as an overwhelming desire to prove himself, Voldemort pulled back from Rodolphus's mind and abruptly snatched his wand back. The cool breath touched the young man's ear as Voldemort leaned in close, hissing out in a low voice enough for only Rodolphus to hear:

"I sense the power to be a great ally, Lestrange. Do not fail me." His proximity would be intimidating for most of his followers, but likely a welcoming challenge for this one.

Again feeling satisfaction, he stepped back and turned to look at the rest of his followers, surveying each one by one, finally addressing them all as he walked to the back of the room, and then returned to centre. "I have no further need of you, my faithful Death Eaters. Today was a good day for most of you, as you leave here in tact. My apologies," at which he smiled insincerely, "for calling you to address but a mere few members of my ranks. Surely it was an occasion worth learning from." At the murmurs of agreement in the room, Voldemort took in a deep breath, closing his eyes and looking downright mad when he returned his piercing gaze to his audience. He sensed the trepidation, fear, desire, and all other manner of emotions from his followers, all of which translated into a heady mix that he leached from them.

With his last statement, he walked once more through his followers, robes billowing behind and touching the feet of those he passed. And then he was gone with a loud CRACK.

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