Lough Erne ~ Ireland

[Sir Spazalots]

Lough Erne

Lough Erne, sometimes Loch Erne, is the name of two connected lakes in County Fermanagh, Northern Ireland. The lakes are widened sections of the River Erne. The river begins by flowing north, and then curves west into the Atlantic. The southern lake is further up the river and so is named Upper Lough Erne. The northern lake is Lower Lough Erne. The town of Enniskillen lies on the short stretch of the river between the lakes. The lakeside is high and rocky in some parts and, in addition to the 154 islands, there are many coves and inlets. When windy, navigation on Lower Lough Erne, running for 26 miles almost to the Atlantic Ocean, can be something of a challenge with waves of open-sea dimensions. Shallow Upper Lough Erne, spreading southeast of Enniskillen for about 12 miles, is a maze of islands.

Islands in the lower lake include Boa Island, Cleenishmeen Island, Crevinishaughy Island, Cruninish Island, Devenish Island, Ely Island, Goat Island, Horse Island, Inish Doney, Inish Fovar, Inish Lougher, Inish More, Inishmacsaint, Inishmakill, Lustybeg Island, Lustymore Island and White Island.

Those in the upper lake include Bleanish Island, Dernish Island, Inishcorkish, Inishcrevan, Inishfendra, Inishleague, Inishlught, Inishturk, Killygowan Island, Naan Island and Trannish. Seeral of the islands are Privately owned.

 

[Essy ze Ninja]

Harbored to a wooden dock on the edge of Lough Erne, a quaint luxury yacht had been massed to the railing awaiting the arrival of it's owner, Remington. A slow moon began to climb overhead and casted it's stolen shine from the sun across the earth below and it's vitality sung across the blue sea. Stars twinkled to life up above, and down below, the stirring of creatures jostled the current to their desires.  

[Essy ze Ninja]

That's why I slipped out the back before you knew I was there

And I know the way I left wasn't fair

I didn't want to be around just to bring you down

Remington Jagger Nott

Perhaps had it not been for the pressure of all the worlds crushing down on his lungs; torn and ripped apart at the seams by the hands of darkness as a rush of life flashed before them, Remington would have laughed. An ironclad grip upon the petite fiery mistress tightened as she his only assurance that the end would not be imminent. More than once, the haughty cacophony echoing from his apparation had landed him in more trouble than he could count. But he had no need for those thoughts- not now.

Soon enough though, the crickets of life spurted and the darkness swirled to a close dropping them in the center of a wooden dock at Lough Erne harboring a humble yacht to accommodate the pair across the lake with ease. The static collision ceased to be nothing but a foreboding pop and roar of a cackle, but he hadn’t moved an inch. The twisting menace of his smirk sifted against her hair, and just so gently, nipped at the lobe of her ear with the hot trepidation tickling not far behind. A gust of wind separated Remington from Murdoch, his motions no less swift than the air itself as he took a moment to allow the tranquil ambiance to wash over his being. An over looming sensation built in his throat, but it was shaken away before she ever the time to witness his doubts. Had it not been for the fear of Krina in his shop, the patience of Mary at the castle, he would have never come here. Never.

But here he was again.

An over looming desire to impose himself upon her had built, burnt, and sat ablaze with dominance. Did he see himself above her, or was he daring her to prove otherwise? Remington was coy, yes, but not when it came to his carnal sentiment, oh no. Still, he enjoyed the game of cat and mouse as much as the next person, but how long could he clash against the will of his mind compared to the will of his captivation.

He would have her, he decided, in any and every way he could possibly possess her. It was clear in that mirthful gleam of gold that that was all he truly desired. Possession. Domination. Manipulation. Of course, he had never expected for her intentions to be the same. He never expected a struggle for power. As he walked into this, motioning for her to follow, he expected to have his way in any way he so deemed appropriately.

”Oh, I didn’t realize I was supposed to be afraid of you as well,” Remington’s humor no less poisonous than venom itself. Quite endearingly, he made the notion for the vessel to open its arms to their presence, and a wooden bridge suddenly lifted from its confines on the ship and hurried to their end to grant entrance. This time, Remington led, and forced Murdoch to follow. Ordinarily, he would have allowed her to enter first, but he wasn’t keen on being second to anyone in any aspect of life. The yacht itself was no different from any other, except for the fact that with a wave of his wand of darkly washed walnut, the ship began its course of its own accord. A placid silence embraced them and he hadn’t said a word during this until his home could be spotted in the distance. A whitewashed villa sat at the top of a granite island, the entire surface no more than two-thousand-square-feet, but more than enough than he could ever need. ”There.” He pointed. ”That’s where we’re going.”

And then he sat with one leg crossed at the knee, with another wave of his wand, an ice bucket filled with bottles of wine dutifully glided to their side and rested upon a built-in table. There were three choices, a white wine, a red wine, and an elven wine that literally almost cost him the family jewels to acquire.

╔══════════════╗
Location: Lough Erne with Murdoch
Desires: Her
╚══════════════╝

I'm not a hero but don't think I didn't care

 

[Pathological Kisser]

Charlize Murdoch
Owner of Blood Murdoch's: House of Dueling
Cloak | Thoughts: Anticipation is the worst … | Owl

The embrace lasted longer than the Apparation. Murdoch hadn’t realized that they arrived until the cool breeze off of the Loch swept over them, her companion sweeping away from her as elusive as a vapor. The smile had dropped from her lips the moment that his mouth had nipped at her ear. Her lips had parted as her body wanted to melt into him and have him right there on the shore. But all too soon he was moving down the pier. Her gaze after him was all heat and aggression. Like a hungry lioness she felt the urge to pounce on him and rip the clothes from his body.

Indeed stepping after him her limbs had the sleek, fierce movement of a deadly predator as she moved with total confidence. The cat that had the prey cornered, so stealth was no longer required. Their passion was inevitable, only time separating their bodies. The music of the animals and nature in the air only added to the reminder of the primal reason for their visit.

He quipped in response to her warning at the Leaky Cauldron, walking out across a gorgeous bridge that he summoned to take them to his luxurious yacht.

“Fear is not necessary, but you might be wise to be wary. A woman who knows what she wants is always dangerous company.”

Continuing to strike out in front and lead the way he stalked across the bridge in assumed confidence that she would be on his heels. Smirking at his back and taking full advantage to enjoy the view from behind, strolled casually several paces behind him. As if she was in no hurry and the direction of her travel was completely her decision. Stepping onto the yacht, he set the craft in motion, cutting across the water and into the growing mist.

Murdoch did not cling to his side, for she never had with any man, nor did she jump on him and rock the boat as she might have liked to. Instead, with a coy smirk she strolled to the side and looked out over the water, enjoying the boat ride and attempting to not let her every thought be ruled by this man. Murdoch was a woman that got what she wanted. But she didn’t want things that didn’t want her. So, though she knew the passion between them and from his hot embrace, that he wanted the same thing that she did, she was never the type to cling and beg and pander. She also enjoyed her own space plenty, so a moment to breath and try to regain her senses after he sent her reeling was welcome.

Forcing herself to think of other things, she tried to remember the last time that she was on a boat. It had been years. Her father had always tried to create fun things for them to do when they were traveling. Until she was allowed to begin dueling herself, then he seemed to sigh in relief and could just stick with doing what he loved and could share it with his daughter. Sometimes she wondered how much she did it out of love and how much out of love for her father. But he did take her out onto a huge lake somewhere in south eastern Canada, she couldn’t remember where now. But he had rowed and told her stories and they spent the afternoon laughing and talking. How much she missed him.

But the man that had occupied the majority of her thoughts this day brought her back to present as his deep, sensuous voice broke the silence, pointing out their destination. A small island, which seemed engulfed by a beautiful villa. Indeed a man of means. Murdoch had dallied with wealthy men before, they were no different than a poor man for what she wanted. Though she didn’t usually take the effort with herself that she had tonight. But this night was going to be exceptional, she already knew. And if he was a disappointment in bed, Murdoch was going to be surprised and severely disappointed. But she doubted she would have to worry about such things.

His powerful presence reclined to sitting and summoned a bucket with a selection of wines. He made no move to serve her which made Murdoch smirk again as she sauntered over, hips swaying tauntingly. She glanced in the bucket and back at him. “Testing me?” she purring teasingly before turning back and reaching for the elf made wine. Slipping her wand from under her robe she tapped the cork of the bottle and it twisted slowly out with a small ‘pop’. Her wand restowed, she opened her hand and a single glass floated through the air toward her and she poured the wine to the hip of the glass. Slipping the bottle back into the bucket, she slipped into the seat opposite of him and put the glass to her curved lips.

The choice had been easy, tonight was only about the best things. And she was sure that this man knew the lesson that one does not offer what they are not willing to part with. Like Murdoch, she was feely offering her body, but her heart was out of the question. She would make sure of that.  

[Essy ze Ninja]

That's why I slipped out the back before you knew I was there

And I know the way I left wasn't fair

I didn't want to be around just to bring you down

Remington Jagger Nott

Challenging, that was the way that the imperious golden scrutiny of his locked on to Murdoch like the proverbial target she was to him. Even as a blanket of obscurity wrapped around the delicacy of their presence, Remington could prominently make out the prowess illuminating an impetuous passion from within. Could he deny that he was perplexed by her righteous independence? Well, too say surprised would be an understatement as he calculated the exact distance she had left between them- perhaps only enough for a breath of air, but enough to keep distance all the same. How curious, then, should he have felt as the stark realization truly fell down upon him with the might of all the gods’ wrath…?

What exactly had he plunged himself head first into this time?

His motionless efforts almost led him to become a mirage in the darkness, the silhouetted ghoul he had always been, and nothing more. It was in that defense that he pursued her every notion and every insight, Remington, by now, had long since forgotten the worries of his life while in the empowered presence of this woman, this man-eater, some had called it.

”Testing you?” He repeated with a mocking accusation. ”My dear, that would presume to mean that I’ve squandered over the details and means of our engagement,

“You don’t honestly believe I’d spend that much effort on you, do you?” If his earlier presumptions had been deemed a rouse for analysis, then this, surely, would be the affirmation of his dominance. Of course he was testing her, he never had any reason before, but when she hadn’t seemed to bundle into his embrace or pout at the lack of his offered service of wine- well- he had to provoke the distance she would measure until she inevitably, like everyone else, snap under the most carnal of instincts. In the end, he didn’t doubt that she would be left yearning, and him the one to rise and disappear the next morning as he had done countless nights before.

But that would all soon come to fruition, for now, the lovely spitfire round of bursts was pleasing all the same. It would only take fifteen minutes before their course ended at the boat dock of his private island, but he hadn’t indulged in the wine offered. He had a taste for fire, only the blazing felicity would soothe him now.

╔══════════════╗
Location: Yacht on Lough Erne with Murdoch
Desires: Submittance
╚══════════════╝

I'm not a hero but don't think I didn't care

 

[Pathological Kisser]

Charlize Murdoch
Owner of Blood Murdoch's: House of Dueling
Cloak | Thoughts: You know you want me … | Owl

To say that the wine was good, was to say that her soon to be lover was handsome. True but not correct, because neither term fully encompassed the essence of their descripted. It felt as though it bloomed in her mouth, the flavor being multileveled and full bodied while fine and without a strong bite, which made it all the more dangerous. Truly it was this kind of imbibement that one could easily over indulge in, getting lost in its unique and intoxicating effect. Again, much like her companion. As she sipped her wine, her coquettish blue gaze held his intense golden stare.

“Testing you?” he asked in amusement.

She raised her eyebrow and inclined her head with a nod, affirming her challenge.

But she could not hold back a chuckle at his declaration that he hadn’t put any effort into this evening. Her laugh had the distinct air of amusement, not at what was said, but of the man who said it. While he might not have gave her needs much consideration, the idea that this man did not have every detail of this night considered and planned, even if as a contingency was laughable. From his perfectly coiffed hair to his impeccably cleaned and pressed clothing right down to the crest of the Bull Mastiff adorning every detail if his attire, he was immaculately and purposefully turned out. Much like the first time that she had met him.

This was a man, Murdoch was sure, that had arranged his life so that he was immune to surprises because he was connected and involved in everything. The sort of smooth operator that knew everything about everything. And probably, like her, he kept his romantic life at the physical level because he could control that and it was simple. Relationships were messy. Murdoch had a few over the years, and granted they were always with men that she should have known better. But it was enough to teach her the joys of simple lust and passion and that guarding your heart is just as important as watching your back.

Baby blue eyes sparkled with mirth as she tilted her head to stare at him, as if he were a child that had said something humorous. “That’s good.” She said, her voice rich with playful tease. “Because I’d hate to think of you devastated if I had sought out other entertainment had you been much later. “ Her head tilted the other direction as she looked out into the indeterminate distance as if puzzling seriously. “Perhaps stolen that shirtless wizard from his young lady…” Looking over at him her smirk spread.

Indeed, she was not a woman to wait around. If he had been much later she would have paid her tab and Apparated back home. But if he wanted to play this game, Murdoch was more than prepared to give as good as she got. In fact, her blue eyes flicked up to see the villa approaching, she was looking forward to it.  

[Essy ze Ninja]

That's why I slipped out the back before you knew I was there

And I know the way I left wasn't fair

I didn't want to be around just to bring you down

Remington Jagger Nott

Her delightful enchantment cooed into the background of crashing waves, elegant and purposeful. Still, a persistent fire scorched a trivial wonder because all of this time he, he realized, lay sprawled as the open book with pages all torn and frayed. And yet, there she sat, as closely guarded as the fruits of a nun. This perturbed him, but no trace of inclination had risen to the impassively cool pointed features speckled with the shadows of his stubble already sprouting. The further he dived inside of her; tore past the cerulean drawbridge and into a labyrinth- a hall of mirrors- he witnessed nothing more than his own reflection staring back at him.

For a moment, his uneasiness crossed on his features when he found, and quite abruptly, that he could no longer hold her gaze as intently as he would have liked. Remington was never quick to falter, but when he was (and if ever caught off guard) it would crumble his plans, and his spirits, as surely as the waves that wore down the rockbound island. A barrage of words wore down on him, and at the moment, he couldn’t recognize the playful banter as what it was, but instead, a cause to justify his very being. ”Ah, and I do so would have enjoyed tearing a man’s pride down to hell while having you accompany me still,

“And perhaps the little blonde, too?” Although the callous mirth could be read easily upon his words, the biting chill couldn’t go unnoticed as his very words seemed to glide over her skin leaving nothing but a sharp frost behind.

But whatever it was that had caused him such immediate clamor would forever be lost out to sea because the grand stature of escalating quarry finally reeled to a stop at an old wooden dock that hadn’t appeared to have been used in years. The steely glint of granite rose to the heavens in sharp and steep climbs, making entrance only passable through the gated steps and stone walkway. Remington stood to his full height at six feet and turned to grace her with a lecherous smile holding all of the world’s sin within its reach. He didn’t feel the need to breathe a word as, once again with the aid of his afore mentioned pocketed wand, enchanted the slight drawbridge to affix itself, and this time, he inclined his head. She would go first.

╔══════════════╗
Location: Exiting Yacht to Private Island with Murdoch
Desires: That dress on my floor
╚══════════════╝

I'm not a hero but don't think I didn't care

 

[Pathological Kisser]

Charlize Murdoch
Owner of Blood Murdoch's: House of Dueling
Cloak | Thoughts: I’m with a dangerous man, and he should fear me … | Owl

His eyes dropped from hers and Murdoch felt a small rush of elation. He had been pushing at her, and she pushed back. And won. Though she chalked this up to surprise on his part. She wondered how many women had ever acted so indifferent, even if playfully so. He was the man that every woman desired in the darkest parts of their mind and fantasized about while laying under their husbands. Everything about him seemed set to seduce. Even his intensity, which as it flared and chilled her, she could imagine how terrifying he could be if he chose to be, was one more thing to make him seem sexy. Like a bottle of poison in a beautiful bottle. You know it is poison, but you just have to taste it.

But Murdoch was not immune to him, though she wished that she was. After the embrace that brought her here tonight she wondered if she hadn’t bitten off more than she could chew. A thought which was quickly tramped to a bloody pulp as versions of striping naked and having him bend her over the railing of the pier crowded her mind. Indeed, even now her body was still overly aware of him, almost too sensitive to bare.

Looking now up to the gate and staircase that was the only way to the villa, she realized how well protected this house was. There was only one way onto the island, this way. The dock was nestled against the granite face, easily hidden. And, once on the island, one only had to defend that staircase to repel intruders. Was that of his choice? Or how he inherited the place? The dock was indeed older than he. But it did seem a fitting place for him. A fortress disguised as a home.

She merely chuckled at his words, ignoring the severity. Right now there was no one else. No man, no little blonde, just this man. This mysterious, intriguing, sensual man. As he stood, she followed and stepped close behind him. So that when he turned to motion her on ahead, they were but a lips distance apart. Her smile still playful as she stepped into him, her body molded against his as her right hand came up cup the side of his face above her own. Her blue gaze sparkling at him, “I am glad that you came tonight.” Her words soft, and less laced with implication than anything that she said tonight, yet it was there. But there was a plain truth to what she said as well.

And the moment passed, she slipped easily past him. Walking across the bridge, her stride easy and purposeful, her hips swaying suggestively, beckoning him to follow.  

[Essy ze Ninja]

That's why I slipped out the back before you knew I was there

And I know the way I left wasn't fair

I didn't want to be around just to bring you down

Remington Jagger Nott

”I leave for my session to Chamonix with Gael Galspard in a few weeks,” the rolling tongue of his nephew hissed with a vehemence akin to his own; it brought a smile to his lips. The young one hadn’t noticed, he was strewn behind, lounging across the plush leather seat stuffed with goose feathers—unrealistic, of course—but a price can’t be placed on comfort.

”Ah, yes, your fencing competition. You’ve been practicing, no doubt?” Remington spoke over the crashing waves as he sent a cool glance over his shoulder towards the head of auburn behind him. The fleeting image of moss stained rocks grew farther in the distance, as did the bleached white house that snaked around it on a cliff. The water was crisp, clear and blue, ripping apart beneath the white sail boat he kept harbored at bay—the only means for transportation to reach the island that was hidden to all but a select few.

His own personal magic touch as a curse breaker.

”I made one…” His nephew spurred suddenly, which drew a curious furrow upon his brow as he eyed the young boy who wiggled inconspicuously under his gaze before the young boy had carried on. ”A foil, and a rapier too, transfigured it.”

For once, the lean mass of man found he had nothing to say.

”I hardly doubt it was in your curriculum.” Remington boasted, now finding the ease of will to laugh as a sudden burst of swelling pride had begun to grow. ”Bril—“

”Professor Rosier’s different though, she’s not like the other… er- Remi-“ The dock was closing in. He could hear the pleas behind him but his limbs had gone rigid, numb, lifeless. Stolen. A hard swallow tore down his throat, ripping at his insides and festering in his blood.

He could only cough as he swerved to miss the dock, slowing his speed as he reared back around. ”Rosier?” He choked out, a tingle swept his spine and he could feel the hard stare drilling into the back of his mind. But he didn’t acknowledge his nephew. He pulled the speed boat close, killing the engine as he reached the edge and then swept over the edge hauling rope behind him, tying the vessel in safely by hand rather than magic as he was accustomed too. ”Rosier who?”

”I dunno,” Tay chimed nonchalantly, so blatantly unaware and unknowing as he hopped off the edge of the ship to reach the shore of Lough Erne with the private dock that Remington had personally bought on an expanse of land he mysteriously came to possess.

╔══════════════╗
Location: Lough Erne Dock with Tay
╚══════════════╝

 

[Pathological Kisser]

Gideon Balford
I am a Man of Questionable Intent
| Wearing: Black fitted robes and a black hooded cloak | Thoughts: I’m dirty, tired and it’s time this son of a b***h gave me some answers… |

Choppy gray water split at the bow of a boat speeding toward the peer that lay just in front of where the dark hooded figure was nestled in the woods. All of these years, he had left his job, his family and his reputation all behind. He might not even be able to get them back. He hadn’t intended it like that, a little detective work on his own. Yes, it was outside of the Ministry’s jurisdiction and they weren’t happy about that. But it was mild compared to what the Order of the Pheonix had done and they were regaled as heroes. No, this wasn’t about saving the wizarding world, but his family was no less important.

Each step he took brought him closer to the darker side of their world. He went from pressuring bottom feeders to blending in amongst their crowds at gatherings and places of gathering and now, he shuddered. It was getting to far, too dark, for him to ever hope to go back. But he had never lost sight of his goal. He had lost one sister, years ago. A tragedy. And while he had always laid the blame on the shoulders of another, it was the mere stress of pregnancy and childbirth that she couldn’t bear. But then to lose another sister, this one murdered in cold blood. Leaving behind two heart broken children.

The Ministry drew a blank, assumed that it was her husband and left the case as unsolved. He knew that they couldn’t work without clues or leads but they weren’t willing to bend the rules to get the job done. Gid was willing to throw the god damned book out to get things done. Gid had been pulled from the case and it wasn’t long after that the Balfords were delivered the news that the investigation was being put aside as unsolved. Marcus was wanted for the murder and there were absolutely no leads on his whereabouts. The only clue was a pin, held clenched in Marta’s cold hand.

A pin with a Bullmastif, which Gid well knew that was a coat of arms of a notable wizarding family. That of his partner, William Dante Nott the second. Gid held no suspicions over his past partner and once close friend, but it was his brother, Remington Jager Nott, that Gid wanted to stare down his wand at and hex to bloody pieces for the death of his sister. It was that man that was cutting through the waves of Loch Erne toward the docks. Gid had avoided approaching him, as much as he wanted to. But Remington was well connected; his family, his brother, his contacts in the underworld.

But Gideon was reaching a breaking point. He needed answers. And all through this journey, the one name that he continued to hear was Remington Nott. If it wasn’t secret meetings in Remington’s underground club in Knockturn, it was Remington passing information or procuring items. And he did hear from one other witch, early on in his investigation, that Marta was very much in love and no longer with her husband. Remington had a well known reputation as a ladies man.

Gid hated to admit it. Hated to think that his sister, instead of being happy with her loving husband and beautiful children, had turned to the arms of, of all people, THAT man. It was sickening. But it was the only thing that he could find as a motive. Either Remington wanted rid of her, or Marcus killed her in a passionate rage of betrayal. Gid was no huge fan of Marcus. But if he had to put his money on one of the two as a murderer, it was Remington. Though, he admitted, Marcus’ disappearance coinciding with the murder of Marta was more than suspicious. But in two years Gid had found hide nor hair of the man. No attempt to contact his children, no pleas of innocence. He had to be either dead or guilty. But even guilty Gid couldn’t imagine him leaving Hildy and Matty behind. So he had to be dead. A second victim of the killer.

Remington on the other hand, was everywhere. His usual self-important strut through life. He was tied to almost everything dirty that Gid had found. But it didn’t tie him to Marta’s murder. It was maddening. When Gid had asked William about the pin, his ex partner said that Remington had an alibi from the night before. Gid wanted him to be guilty. Sure that he was. Knew without a doubt that he deserved punishment. And, more than anything, since he was a man that knew virtually everyone, he was the best source to ask for information about Marta’s death.

But in order to get information, I can’t kill him. Gid sighed as the boat moored to the slip. A young boy jumped out onto the dock. It took a moment but Gideon realized that it was Dante, William’s son. Gid hadn’t wanted to have this out in front of anyone, but he had tracked Remington down to the most secluded place that he was likely to find the man. Knockturn, even in the recesses of the man’s quarters was too close to teams of Remington’s lackeys. The island retreat was protected, but the dock was not. If Gideon was going to try to get anything from him, it had to be here.

So as the two figures came onto the dock, Gideon knew that he had to move before they Apparated away. Stepping out of the trees, his hood still shadowing his face as his dark robes billowed out around his tall, lean build. ”Remington Nott, I’d have words with you….You owe me, Nott.” Tilting his chin up, Gideon let just enough of the light hit his stubbled face and bright blue eyes that Remington should know him. They had never been close, but had always been very aware of the other. Animosity was a familiar friend between them.  

[Essy ze Ninja]

That's why I slipped out the back before you knew I was there

And I know the way I left wasn't fair

I didn't want to be around just to bring you down

Remington Jagger Nott

Everywhere, he had realized, again and again, and nowhere at all. Like the barest track set in shifting snow, with a leaf unfurled, a rock unturned, and a dead branch split in two, all in the opposite directions. ‘But how,’ one should come to wonder. ‘How? When there was only one to chase—only one victim. One prey.

But such was the way of the spider, of the snake, and the tiger. His prints were left behind on everything and nothing at all—and so was she. Krina Flint nee Rosier had one sister, common knowledge, Sillia Rosier. She was brilliant, but could a Rosier ever be anything but?

In so many ways, Remington would count the similarities between himself and the wretched skew of crimson and fire. Eyes of gold in a daze as he followed his young, and only, nephew across the outstretched lands where rolling hills of grazing green grass hugged the lake before splitting away into different property lines, farms, and homes and evermore patches of pine and oak trees; but they hadn’t gotten very far at all.

A terror of shadows split at the mouth to the right, stretching, on and on underneath the canopy mass of tangent darkness blanketed beneath fat, and heavy leaves. Time and time again, he felt this, this very same chilling horror that he was being followed and it crept beneath his skin, paranoia sinking in. But yellow fangs of poison seemed to pierce his spine now, numbing whatever control he had had left. Even the heir seemed to notice, pausing, to rear around and offer a turned back to the open world.

”Remington Nott, I’d have words with you….You owe me, Nott.”

Stolen with a grain of salt, the surprise glistening in his eyes hadn’t been for not knowing, but for knowing and being too foolish to realize it. ”Can’t a man have a vacation?” He declared, a curve ball of foolish ostentatious pride as he stepped forward and with a guiding hand, knocked his nephew off his feet and tossed somewhere in behind, closer to the boat and away from defense lines.

Even still, Remington couldn’t pierce the darkness until his eyes had set, flushing out the blinding sun that beat heavily upon his back. His mind reeled, eyes narrowed at the thought of lacked defensive wards and charms he suffered beneath as cold, blue familiar eyes blinked into recognition. Two years of a hardened life had chiseled a hardened face shrouded beneath the mouth of his hood and suffocating within its shadows. Memories became alit, clear as day, spinning faster and harder than a bullet out of the chamber as his lips smeared upwards into a painted smile of laced wicked satisfaction.

”Well, it’s safe to say that grief agrees with you Gideon—though I must say, I am sorry for your loss.” He delighted in the thought of this lie, lips spreading into the ease of a smile before the magician’s lion pet decides to open its jaws to the head of the magician—for that last trick, of course.

Whether it was safe to say he earnestly felt any remorse, sorrow, guilt or delight in the death of Mrs. Nettlepot, would be a rare gamble, as simple as tossing a coin in a slot machine, he mused. Remington thrived in this chaotic sense of life, and passion.

”—Thought you’d be long gone by now,” Remington decided, one lie after another. ”Now, what would bring you back after all of these years?” The rhetorical question, it bled forth from the pits of Hell, delivered from the searing tongue of Hades himself with such a malicious and purposeful stab.

╔══════════════╗
Location: Lough Erne Dock with Tay and Gideon Balford
╚══════════════╝

 

[Pathological Kisser]

Gideon Balford
I am a Man of Questionable Intent
| Wearing: Black fitted robes and a black hooded cloak | Thoughts: Would the world really be less without this man? I think not… |

The smug smile spit lies in Gideon’s face. But the icy eyed man did not flinch. He would have expected no less of this snake. It took a certain kind of a*****e to smirk as they hollowly extended condolences. From the moment that Gid and William had found that pin, he had wanted this moment. Wanted to confront the b*****d that knew too much, about everything. But it this case anything would be a step up. Gideon was getting no where except deeper than he ever wanted to be in the criminal underworld.

In the beginning he had set off from his parent’s estate full of leads and excessive rage, almost all directed toward this man. That last night that he spent in the estate, his niece had come to him. He was up late in the study, going over evidence trying not to go insane. Hildy was crying and upset, she had a book in her hand. A journal. And the handwriting was all too familiar. That revelation only have understood by the girl, had a world of meaning to him. He had started for Remington. Probably would have killed him that night too if he hadn’t been at his secluded little island with all of its wards and protections. Fate was just too kind to the b*****d.

“You brought me back, Nott. You always do. I follow a scent and your stench is all over everything.” It was true. Every dark wizard that he thought might have had issue with the Balford family also had ties with Remington Nott. Some in really vague ways, but it stood out to Gideon. Because he wanted it to. He knew that, he knew that he wanted to have an excuse to kill this man. More of an excuse. All of the secrets were building up and Gideon was tired of carrying them. Tired of everything. If not for Chase, he would have just disappeared. Some remote country, a bottle of firewhiskey, and only his memories. Chase, God he loved that kid. Like a son to him, probably the closest that he would ever have. But he wasn’t his son. His eyes burned at the man in front of him.

The truth was, Gideon was run out. He was too far in to just go back and try to pick his life up again. But he didn’t have any decent leads any more. He hadn’t for a while. Now, instead of acting undercover to get the information that he needed, he was just doing his jobs for whatever dark wizard was paying and frequenting the dank hangouts more for the firewhiskey than the eavesdropping. He was losing his purpose. He had lost so much else, he couldn’t lose that.

“You know more scumbags than anyone. You are going to give me a lead on who is after my family. After Marta’s murder, the Balford Estate had several attempted unauthorized entries. The wards repelled them, but the attacks got more aggressive. It hasn’t stopped over the years. Who is it?” He battled with his inner demons. He had been holding things in for so long, it was driving him mad. “I think that they are after the kids. And more than anyone else, you should be concerned for their safety.”

He felt it coming. He felt the urge to spit the truth at him on the tip of his tongue. His grip tightened on the smooth ebony length of his wand. He should kill the b*****d just for the trouble that he was GOING to cause. Merlin. When the kids found out. His mother would have a Kneazle. She was always worried about scandal, this was going to be terrible if it ever got out. A dark, dangerous smirk cut up on his stubbled cheek for a moment as he thought of just waiting and letting his mother kill Remington. But no, an amusing thought. But Gid wanted that pleasure if anyone got it.  

[Pale Mist]

Thanatos

Skies ripping under the white feathers of the raven as it began to emmerge from its distance and close inon the area where the three characters sat. It had been watching with its Hell-piercing blue eyes from a distant under cloud cover since the arrival of the two Notts, now it had purpose. It flew down from its mirrored hiding and brushed with grace its motion. Coming over, at positioned angle to remain mostly unseen except for the pair of eyes for which the display was meant. Flying hard and barely batting a strong wing as it glided with message and diversion near the boat which now sat docked and tied with thick rope. The young Nott - a face familiar to the raven - stood closes to the silently sloshing water and with no bite or peck apart from its presence alone, it landed on the handle of the boat. Eyes of electric blue piercing with human wavelength into gaze of gold once the bleached messenger of death was noticed.

 

[Essy ze Ninja]

That's why I slipped out the back before you knew I was there

And I know the way I left wasn't fair

I didn't want to be around just to bring you down

Remington Jagger Nott

Hmph, the distinct and indignant smear of his voice stained the open skies with tainted silver lies and golden haunted dreams. Rising a brow to the heights of his forehead, Remington allowed a small smile to play at his lips, teasingly, always, as if he had all the right cards, as if he stacked the deck and there wasn’t a damn thing that could be done about it. And usually, there wasn’t. However, there was a different air of persistence that even Remington could not feign to ignore. It had intrigued him, yes, the inconsistencies arose in the daily newspaper, and they could be found scattered in the secluded office of his private island in little snippets all along the wall. Memories and photos of Marta, the last day she was alive, only hours before she had arrived at the Nott Castle and found him there. And then he left her.

He left her—and then she was dead.

Nobody would believe him, not even he could believe himself during the odd hours of the night during the witches’ hour, and scatterbrained from fatigue, and hunger. But he never crossed out of line, never hunted down what could not be found. The grapevine had brought the words to him, the messages, and the meanings, and the sieges. They spoke words of a salted tongue, and Remington tasted them all with a bittersweet sugary smile. True, Remington was a man of means who had his hands in the wallet of every pocket, and in the hearts of every woman, and the hate of every man. But, that doesn't mean he can't love. And, while as though he'd admit that love wasn't quite the exact method of his madness behind the deliciously innocent Marta--it was that twisted sense of obsession that held him there. That she was his not by rights, but by the laws of love, and that was enough for him to keep silents tabs, and close watch. Assuring the safety of her children, especially after the ongoing disappearance of their father. ”And it takes the lone wolf years to manage what the dogs of the ministry deduced in a matter of weeks.

“I do believe you’re losing your touch, Gideon.” Affirmed with the satisfaction that his life, a mere treasure vault vessel full of the darkest, deepest of family secrets locked within him—would be too precious to kill. He knew this, and blatantly regarded that acknowledgment with a boisterous hand, waving a signal of dismissal behind him. ”Get on the boat Tay, and leave. Take the watch with you.” Remington signaled, veering to look over his shoulder to witness the silhouette of his young nephew retreat under the deck towards the portkey stowed for safety.

He waited now, rising his chin and narrowing his eyes, looking down upon the man in front of him, scorning him as all of the others would. ”Those scumbags are men, just like you. Men that you once swore to protect with your very life.” He mocked, straight faced, a sneer of a smile slithering to his lips. ”But after getting besieged more than once, you’d think you’d have a better security charm than that. Perhaps, one that kept your intruders hostage, perhaps?

“I have a brilliant spell that I think will work perfectly.” Remington had all but resisted the urge to laugh with sinful delight. ”Whoever it is is of no use for me to find, you’re the dog—I’m sure you’ll sniff them out, if you would only try.”

He resisted, long and hard, through that perilous speech of frivolous pride and honor, the dumb fox to the hound. But that gnawing key piece of information, that bludgeoning knowing stare that, for once, Gideon knew what he did not.

”….Now why on earth would those children’s lives affect me?” He finally demanded, loud and clear, and unraveling with a deadly suspicious curiosity.

╔══════════════╗
Location: Lough Erne Dock with Gideon Balford
╚══════════════╝

 

[Pathological Kisser]

Gideon Balford
I am a Man of Questionable Intent
| Wearing: Black fitted robes and a black hooded cloak | Thoughts: Death. Death. Death. |

The Ebony wand was heavy and hot in his hand, ready for action, near vibrating with need. Put me to use. it called. You know the spell. You have already lost your old life. Make it worthwhile. He isn’t going to tell you anything, you’ll never find Marta’s killer. But you can kill him. This can end right now. The voice sang sweet in his mind. He wanted to think that it was the wand talking to him. Perhaps it was just a voice in his mind. What he really wanted. Or maybe the dark madness that was slowly taking seed in his mind, heart and soul.

He knew that Remington was just toying with him. From the second that he saw the pin, he knew that the b*****d was involved. But the Hit Wizards had questioned him and his alibi held up. William swore up and down that his whereabouts were accounted for. He might not have believed it from any of the other wizards in the Ministry, but William had his trust and respect. So he knew that Remington wasn’t the one that killed Marta. He still could have had something to do with it, or at least known something about it. But he needed more information so he knew what to question the snake.

But every lead turned to nothing. Ash in his hands. Dust in the wind. Now he was wandering the realms of dark wizards, hoping for some new clue and more often floundering in the ever-darkening morals that he waded through to try to reach an answer. He had gone through everyone that they knew. Everyone that Marcus knew. Business associates, family friends, neighbors, anyone who might have an issue with the Balfords and random crime in the area. Nothing looked promising. But Remington’s name came up more than a few times. Each time it was like a knife twisting in an old wound. There was never anything definite. He wanted it to be, Merlin, he wanted to have a solid reason to kill him.

”Don’t worry, Nott, if I was here because I had the slightest hint that you killed her, you would already be dead. And I have reinforced the charms and shields. I’ve tried to catch them, Thayer has been patrolling the outer limits. Whoever it is, they know what we are doing and are being very careful. I wouldn’t be here for your input if I wasn’t desperate. Which I’m sure you know, so I wouldn’t push me.”

They stared at each other. Gideon knew that he was just pushing him. Being every bit the jerk that he remembered from school. Each detail of his personality grating on Gideon’s ability to keep from drawing his wand forth. But the words were poison, seeping over Gideon’s fragile honor. His guilt had riddled deep cracks through his confidence. Now Remington’s berating tone was hitting deeper than usual. Gideon couldn’t resist the sting of the blows because he felt the sentiment as well. If he could only try harder, look closer. There had to be something simple that he was missing. But all the same it made his anger flush in his face.

His eyes flicked back to Tay. He tried to use the boy, to balance his want to harm Remington against his respect from his former partner. He didn’t want to frighten the boy unduly and if Remington was more accessible in private locations on his lonesome than Gideon would have waited. But as it was, this was his best option. After all, he had no intention of attacking Remington, he just wanted information. He was just starting to regain control over his rage when the lowlife opened his mouth again.

”….Now why on earth would those children’s lives affect me?” Gideon could hear the haughtiness, the indignant disregard for the children that Gideon loved. And how little he cared. The very fact that he didn’t know. How could he not know?!? Gideon was moving forward, his wand out as all of his features pulled tight and fierce.

”You sodding b*****d! They are yours! Yours! Two children from two of my sisters! Cora died having your child and you don’t even know? Or care? And Hildy had to find out from her mother’s diary that her life was a lie? That her mother only stayed with Marcus because she was pregnant and afraid with her, your child!”

He didn’t send any spell out from his wand, it was out, arm trembling with fury as he shouted. He had been holding it back for so long. All of those years raising Chase and carrying the secret of who is father was. Something that the boy himself didn’t even know. The only time Gid had ever lied to him was in response to the question about his paternity. All of those years ago, the doctors were frantic, trying everything, spells, techniques, to try to stop the hemmoraging, Cora had called him into her room. She looked terrible. Such a beautiful young girl, only eighteen, pale, limp, sweaty hair and skin, bruises all over her body. They said that she had strained so hard having the child that she had burst blood vessels all over her body, making it look like she had been beaten.

She had reached out for his hand, her weak motions frantic. She knew that her time was running out. “Gideon, I’m so scared. The baby, my God, the baby. Please Gid, you have to take care of him. Don’t let mum give him away.”

Tears ran down Gideon’s cheeks but he tried not to sob as he watched his baby sister dying in front of him. “I swear, Cora. He’ll be fine. Just take it easy.” His mother burst into the room, drawing a paniced look from Cora. His mother immediately was commanding the doctors out of the room and Cora pulled his hand, leaning forward as far as she could to whisper, “It’s Remington Nott. He is the father. I know, I know you told me to stay away from him. Don’t tell anyone. If mom finds out she’ll do anything to pull our families together. I don’t want her to use Chase like that.”

Gid was shocked. He nodded blankly as his mother pulled him from the room. He barely registered her insisting on being alone with her daughter. He was in the hallway staring at the door for the longest time, his mind reeling as he tried to consume what he had been told, that he was losing his sister and that he now had a baby to take care of. A baby that would end up changing his life for the better and that he would love more than anything. Remington’s baby. Chase.

And then to find out from a tearful Hildy that she had found journal entries where her mother talked about not being happy with her decision to accept Marcus’ proposal, of meeting someone else and falling in love. Finally of finding out that she was pregnant with ‘Remy’s’ baby. Alone and afraid, she decided to marry Marcus to avoid the scandal of being pregnant and alone. Hildy didn’t know who this ‘Remy’ was, but Gid did. Marta had always fancied the younger Nott brother. And when he looked at her, granted she was the picture of Marta at that age, but there was something fleeting around the edge of her features. He saw it even more in Chase but it was still there in his cousin. His sister, half sister. Siblings and cousins. How could he ever tell the kids? How could they go through school if people knew? Chase was resilient, but Hildy…hadn’t the girl been through even already?

And would this b*****d even care? Care that the birth of his child killed Gid’s sister? Care that he had two children that were in danger, possibly mortal peril? Gid figured not. But a small part of him dared to hope. Hope that perhaps the kids would not be all alone in the world if he didn’t make it back from the dark side of the law. His parents were of no use but monetary and Thayer…Gideon loved his brother, but he couldn’t imagine him as a father. Though neither was Remington. But there were three children with only one parent left among them. This man, the one at the other end of Gideon’s wand.