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Essy ze Ninja Vice Captain
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 Posted: Fri Jul 11, 2014 9:26 pm
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Everywhere I look around I see how everyone aught to be
Every time I see myself I see there's always something wrong with me
𝑹𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒕𝒐𝒏 𝑱𝒂𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒕
𝑂 𝑐 𝑐 𝑙 𝑢 𝑚 𝑒 𝑛 𝑠
He was amused, to say the least, at the restraints chained by bone and steel to enslave the emotions at bay. But they glimmered just beneath the surface; the excitement and joy and laughter and cheer like mermaids swirling beneath the shadows just barely out of reach, and maybe once in a while, he fancied the thought of a demon or two, their twinkling eyes shining just behind. But soon the rivers grew stagnant, clouded, murky. Clarity had seemingly vanished until it clung to the very next thing, the carved hand. Remington's vision darted between the two, her eyes and the rutilated quartz, and the spark held between. 'Perhaps this wasn't such a bad idea after all,' he was realizing, again and again. She was passionate, too. ”The piece was carved by Harold Van Pelt, an American gemstone carver, fashioned after the hand of his wife, Erica Van Pelt.” He briefly explained; the darkness resonated with a shrill pitch almost too high to hear the closer and closer she inched. ”I don't know what it does.” He admitted. ”It was stolen, everyone to come in physical contact since has seemingly fallen ill or died.”
The gold of his eyes flickered to the black stems that ripped through hand in a simple elegance. ”It's rutile, a mineral, it slashes through the quartz like blood to give it an ethereal appeal, but you're right, something's off about it. The curse, whatever it is, seems to be attracted and influenced by the rutile, whether its the properties or its origins...” He trailed off, not so quick to admit that he was defeated. ”Perhaps if I could siphon its strength I'd be able to identify it with less of a combustive reaction.” He weighed the options, furrowed his brow and interlaced his fingers together beneath his chin.
”No, no, no, it wouldn't do to have two object affected with the same ruddy curse, the outcome could be disastrous if twin artifacts happen to be created.” He hummed quietly to himself, reclined backwards in his chair and shifted uncomfortably. The breastplate and pauldrons were heavy, but protective as he dabbled against unknown mystics and curses. It even saved his life a time or two. But then he heard the door to his shop open, the click of heels—his armor would do him no good now.
He couldn't even react to Lutheil's exclamation, his eyes were drawn far away. Her brilliant suggestion would go unheard as he swallowed his breath, closed his eyes, and smiled. 'Won't this be lovely?' He cleared his throat, hopefully to catch the attention of his newest employee, but alas, Callidora had seen fit to do so herself. Her painted nail drew his attention as it clicked at his desk. He rose to stand and meet her. ”Callidora please,” though his voice begged to differ, ”do have some dignity.” It was a warning he wouldn't repeat twice. Let alone, remind her of herself and her place behind him. He thought better than to engage her in this wicked dance. ”This is Luthiel Marcellus, my newest employee. Luthiel, I'm pleased to introduce you to my paramour, Callidora Tempest.” Something sinister traced his smile as he extended a hand from one to the other in courteous introduction. ”We had just finished finalizing the terms of her employment.” He stated matter-of-fact, the truth was actually on his side and he wasn't abashed to shamelessly flaunt its worth whenever he could (which wasn't often.) In fact, nothing seemed to be amusing him more than how jealous Callidora had already become. Good, best not let her find out that he'd actually been faithful. Circe forbid, he'd rather die than admit that.
Now all he could hope was that Luthiel wouldn't be subjected to their childish games....
[OOC:]
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44 years old ♛ 6’3” ♛ 172lbs
Home ♛ Office ♛ Island╚══════════════╝
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Posted: Sun Jul 13, 2014 6:34 pm
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Lutheil Marcellus- 23 years of age - ❦ - ۩
All my life I've been over the top
I don't know what I'm doing all I know is I don't wanna stop
A chill ran up Lutheil’s spine as she heard a pair of heels click assertively across the wooden floor. Her face smoothed to become void of emotion as her normally solid good mood completely vanished, and was instead replaced with an odd mix of dread and a few unnamable emotions. Panic was there as well. Try as the logical side of her brain to convince the half of her brain flipping out, that it was completely impossible for Regina to have moved back to London so quickly. Her panic didn’t quell until she heard a very un-Regina like voice. She relaxed a fist that had somehow balled itself up in the brief moment of panic, but the rest of her didn’t. The sound of the woman’s nails on the desk on put her further on edge, but her face refused to show it.
Lutheil returned the woman’s toothy smile with a small one of her own, though really only the corners of her moth turned up. Her normally warm hazel eyes were completely iced over. There was something Lutheil distinctly didn’t like about whoever this was, probably because the first thing to come out of her mouth was an implication that Lutheil was banging her boss. If there was anything Lutheil hated, it was having someone push an assumption on her before they had even met. Even if it was a false alarm regarding Regina, it was enough to put off Lutheil quite a bit. It looked like she was going to fall off the wagon again, a small battered box of Djarum Blacks were practically begging to be lit in her pocket, promising to at least relieve some of the tension that was beginning to build up in her mind.
Lutheil straighten herself up and then leaned with her hip against Remington’s desk with her arms crossed, so she was facing the curvy woman. After Remington introduced them Lutheil managed to put on a face that was vaguely cheerful “Yes. I’m quite excited to be working here. Pleased to meet you Ms. Tempest, and don’t worry, I don’t plan on making a Hillary Clinton out of you.” She glanced over her shoulder “No offense sir, you’re quite handsome, but I believe you are literally as old as my father. And regardless it's incredibly unprofessional.” Lutheil’s parents had conceived Lutheil and married quite young, in that order.
All fired up, I'm gonna go 'til I drop
You're either in or in the way, don't make me,
'cause I don't wanna stop.
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Posted: Mon Jul 14, 2014 7:21 pm
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Posted: Thu Jul 17, 2014 11:12 am
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Everywhere I look around I see how everyone aught to be
Every time I see myself I see there's always something wrong with me
𝑹𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒕𝒐𝒏 𝑱𝒂𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒕
𝑂 𝑐 𝑐 𝑙 𝑢 𝑚 𝑒 𝑛 𝑠
Eyelids fluttered to a close, it was all he could do to keep from massaging the throbbing vein at his temple. The encounter had tarnished; anything that had gleamed bright was quickly corroded with Callidora's venom, and it spread quickly. He was, if not before, utmost certain now that her silly little jealousy had grown into something fierce over these last few years, a black cannibal, and it was hungry. Her stance was defiant, unyielding, and hard as iron; Remington almost regretted that this moment would have to end. He flickered his gaze towards Luthiel, whom in comparison, flowed much more calmly, coolly, and passively. 'Good, she ought to have patience.' He reasoned with himself.
Of course, it was hard for him not to feel offended. The young woman may have mentioned his appeal but all he heard was his age, and that it was old. A distant glaze clouded his golden eyes. Old, he's old! Lie and lie, it still wouldn't change. But ha! How shallow. Two women might be minutes from ripping throats out, and all he could think of was just how much he turned into his father. How cruel. ”Dahlia, please,” his voice stressed. He was tired, and eyes slid shut. It hadn't really occurred to him, just then, and it wouldn't for the next several moments as he proceeded to curse this woman in his mind. How dare she do this to him! Now?! And why was she even here?!
His eyes burst open bright like wildfire and sought to ask those questions himself, when he noticed it. That word that had hung in the air for those last precious moments of silence, rotten with rust. 'Dahlia,' he bemoaned. 'I called her Dahlia.' He was reeling. How could he have been so careless? The mistake was obvious in the malicious black glint in his eye; what was he thinking? If anyone so much as guessed.... No. He wouldn't act on it, he decided. He slid around his desk promptly, heels practically glided on air as he ensnared a robust arm around Callidora's waist. He knew she wouldn't protest the delight. ”Doll,” he greeted her with a chaste kiss on her head, the term if only to try and cover up his messy tracks. ”Were there any more questions, Lutheil?” He implied rather heavily. ”Anything at all.” Even he couldn't decide if his intentions were for her to prove her presence, prove his innocence, or just to find an excuse to leave. Even worse, Callidora was unpredictable. He had no reason to believe she would follow along with his scheme, with these lies.
She is free.
'I swear,' Remington bit his tongue, 'if she twists this moment into something else...'
Well, if truth be told, he might even be impressed by Callidora. After all... it's what he would've done.
[OOC:]
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44 years old ♛ 6’3” ♛ 172lbs
Home ♛ Office ♛ Island╚══════════════╝
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Essy ze Ninja Vice Captain
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Posted: Thu Jul 17, 2014 3:21 pm
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Lutheil Marcellus- 23 years of age - ❦ - ۩
All my life I've been over the top
I don't know what I'm doing all I know is I don't wanna stop
Lutheil smiled coldly at Callidora, refusing to let her irritation and emotions get the better of her. Showing anger would only make things worse; being defensive would fuel the other woman’s fury. And smiles were much more aggravating anyway. “Thank you for the advice Madam, although my opinion differs on the matter, too much of anything can hurt, I shall keep it in mind.” She had managed to manipulate her tone of voice so that it actually sounded genuinely friendly, although her eyes made it quite clear that it was anything but. That was not a sincere statement, it was a dismissal politely wrapped up and delivered under the guise of being a polite acknowledgement. Lutheil was not one to shower another in flattery, she’d seen people brown-nosing before, and honestly the idea of sucking up to some to get ahead made her sick. She would get where she wanted to go under the steam of her actions, for talk was (and always has been) cheap.
When Remington referred to his mistress by another name, a short look of confusion clouded Lutheil’s eyes. The name was familiar for some reason, but Lutheil was not up to date on any gossip. She had spent most of her time buried in a book, or fiddling with another object, for the past several months. And before that she was too busy dealing with her family, or working on avoiding them to pay any real attention to a rumor. Perhaps it was a pet name? It didn’t seem quite right… She quickly dismissed the problem, it didn’t affect her after all. If Remington had a woman on the side (in which case Callidora’s behavior made a whole lot of sense), and occasionally slipped up, that was his problem. “And,” Lutheil thought wryly as she eyed Callidora “Probably quite a large one at that.”
When prompted to ask a few questions, Lutheil raised a hand to push back her hair straight back from her face. The moment she lifted her hand, it reformed itself, more of a mess than ever. Her mind ticked through the things he had told her about the job, and she found that there were indeed a few things she would like to know. “How big is the potion you want me to acquire?” Her gaze wandered off into the distance, her focus clearly no longer on Callidora and her pet names. “How delicate is it, is it sensitive to light, or being shaken, anything like that. The more I know about it, the better I can plan to deliver it.” Like if she needed to bring her bag or if she could just stuff it into her one of her pocket. She tilted her head to the side “I’m not going to bother asking if I should take care to not spill it, anything someone wanted acquired this way, has to be valuable and tricky to make.” Her genuine smile returned. Lutheil loved nothing more than a good game, a tricky puzzle. Admittedly, she was probably going to have a blast doing this. She could hardly wait to get cracking at this job.
All fired up, I'm gonna go 'til I drop
You're either in or in the way, don't make me,
'cause I don't wanna stop.
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Posted: Thu Jul 17, 2014 4:18 pm
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Essy ze Ninja Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun Jul 20, 2014 10:35 am
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Everywhere I look around I see how everyone aught to be
Every time I see myself I see there's always something wrong with me
𝑹𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒕𝒐𝒏 𝑱𝒂𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒕
𝑂 𝑐 𝑐 𝑙 𝑢 𝑚 𝑒 𝑛 𝑠
Crimson ribbon and noxious laces delicately sewn together, a threat for a threat batted like an eye for an eye, only this time in hallmark packaging. He was, indeed, relieved at the notion that though claws were unsheathed, they remained clean. The verbal lacerations were innocent enough, for now. In the meantime, Remington was left fumbling in the dark; blind and deaf and numb. Of course he noticed the crossed stare from his employee, that glimmer of uncertainty. It would only be cemented moments later. ”Calli,” his interruption was cut off by the abrupt curve in her hips. Eyes flickered up and down, almost daring her. It didn't stop her, he should have expected as such. ”I—“ he didn't finish. She crossed her arms and spun on a poised heel. An indignant brow was quirked, but he was vigil in his silence. He knew he was trapped. He hung his head like a child in shame, curiously golden eyes peered up from beneath dark brows expectant on a punishment that came with a voracious hand and deadly whisper.
Remington didn't argue.
Whatever had transpired in those few moments would remain a mystery, even to Remington, on some level. His torso twisted at the waist to pivot and watch her go. Now alone in the room with Luthiel, he sighed, massaged fingers to his temples before he could fixate his gaze on the young woman he had very nearly forgotten about. ”Er..” Fingers tore through the locks in his hair, eyes darted back and forth between her, and where Callidora awaited him. Distracted didn't even begin to describe it. She made him look like such a fool. Honestly, it was all he could not to just spew out the first nonsense that spun to mind and stalk off after his mistress, but he had to resist—if even only for a few minutes. ”Uh...” Clearly, he had forgotten what was so important that he had to stay. ”—The potion,” he almost seemed excited that he could remember. It was a shame he didn't have it already, it would have been the perfect opportunity...
”It's still under development, every precaution should be taken—steal all of it. The rest of the details will be sent, but not by owl, be expecting someone.”
[OOC: If you like, Noc, you can end this meeting and explore the rest of MoM, or we can keep the scene going for a while longer if you had questions/interesting-ness to do/say. Your choice. ;3 ]
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44 years old ♛ 6’3” ♛ 172lbs
Home ♛ Office ♛ Island╚══════════════╝
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Posted: Wed Jul 23, 2014 7:16 am
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Lutheil Marcellus- 23 years of age - ❦ - ۩
All my life I've been over the top
I don't know what I'm doing all I know is I don't wanna stop
Lutheil observed Callidora’s clear anger, the whisper; Remington’s slightly vacant gaze after the shapely woman had strutted off in a bit of a huff. Honestly, it seemed a tad… Almost acted like a role. Something wasn’t quite right; she couldn’t put her finger on it. There was a glimmer in Remington’s eye that wasn’t fear, actually it looked a whole lot like lust. Not that Lutheil blamed him; make-up sex was always the hottest in her experience. Callidora had acted like this had happened before, and if this had, and they were still clearly together, then Remington probably knew the drill, whatever it may be. Although she’d bet her last twenty galleons it resulted with them in bed, completely distracted from what had caused them to argue in the first place. Although given the forcefulness of Callidora’s wrath, you’d think he’d show a bit more trepidation. But again, most of his facial expressions didn’t go much further than his eyebrows so…
Eh. Not really her business anyway.
Lutheil nodded when he said to take every caution, and whipped out her list-of-things-to-do, ready to scribble that all that down, but thought better of it. It would not be out of character for her to misplace it, and if someone got their hands on it (particularly one inclined to up-hold the laws) it would end poorly for her. She gnawed at the end of her quill for a moment, something that clearly happened often given the poor state of the upped inch or so of the utensil. She compromised, wording it so that it would seem innocent enough to anyone but her. Job- Get stuff ready for potions, guy will elaborate instructions There. That should be enough to jog her memory in case she forgot (although given how excited she was to do this, Lutheil doubted she’d be able to think much about anything else for the next few days.)
Beaming she stowed the list away into the inside pocket of her blazer again. In an almost impossibly enthusiastic voice she said “I can’t wait to find out what’s next! Thank you so much for hiring me!” Although her smile became considerably less toothy, her tone remained the same “See you later Boss! Good luck with your lady-friend!”She waved a short goodbye and then skipped out of the shop, surprisingly light on her feet despite her boots, leaving a trail of disturbed dust notes in her wake.
All fired up, I'm gonna go 'til I drop
You're either in or in the way, don't make me,
'cause I don't wanna stop.
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Posted: Sat Aug 30, 2014 9:05 pm
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Lutheil Marcellus- 23 years of age - ❦ - ۩
All my life I've been over the top
I don't know what I'm doing all I know is I don't wanna stop
Lutheil Marcellus appeared practically on the doorstep with a soft "Crack!". She promptly yawned and stretched, it was rather late, nearly 2 AM according to her pocket-watch, but she wanted this finished. Not bothering to knock she silently padded into the room, sharp hazel eyes scanning for any sign of her boss. Well, it was 2 AM, she wouldn't be surprised if he was asleep... But she wanted to hand off the tiny bottle and the notes to him personally, rather than leaving it on his desk.
Lutheil tapped her lips with a finger, now bare, the latex gloves she had been wearing during the heist long incinerated. She mulled over a few options, stay here, and nod off amid the dust bunnies until morning (Flying Spaghetti Monster knows it was probably thick enough to act as a proper cushion), leave and deliver it tomorrow (and risk damaging her precious cargo), or wake up her boss and hand it over right now! The last one sounded entertaining, what would a sleepy Remington Nott be like? Grouchy? Friendly? More emotive than a stone mask for once?
A light giggle hung in the air as Lutheil decided to indeed indulge in another touch of fun, but first she should check on the potion.
Lutheil fished around in her black leather jacket until she drew out the small glass bottle. The potion was a soft creamy white with small almost-pink and almost-blue bubble that seemed to bloom from nowhere and sink to the bottom. She tilted her head to the side, trying to gauge if there was any change in the bottle's contents since she plucked if off Rick Darge's shelf. To her delight, there was none as far as she could tell. The label read. "Fecundity potion, apply 3 drops topically for aph. Consume 1 drop per day to increase fert. Store in cool dark place" It was incredible how he had been able to cram all of that on the tiny bottle, the little glass thing probably held two ounces at most, or if you did the math the way Lutheil did, roughly sixty milliliters, so about two months straight of the increased fertility, or twenty days for the other purpose...
Hm.
Lutheil poked around the shop, trying to figure out where her boss and Callidora had walked to last time she was here. There had to be a staircase or something... Lutheil was completely devoted to the task of finding her boss and giving him the potion and notes, and she did find a staircase... But when she came close, the back of her neck tingled, Mr. Nott was clearly smarter than Rick Darge was when it came to protecting his space. Going upstairs would feel like and invasion of privacy... But how to reach him when he was somewhere up there, and she was down here?
Lutheil considered just continuing up the steps and setting off whatever spells he had, it'd probably just anger him though. So Lutheil stood there at the bottom of the stairs, potion in hand, still dressed in black, thinking until an obvious solution came to her.
"Good Morning boss! I got the potion!" She didn't shout, but her voice could carry if she wanted it to (it was all in the diaphragm). Her cheerful voice was likely heard throughout his dwelling, waking all but the soundest of sleepers.
All fired up, I'm gonna go 'til I drop
You're either in or in the way, don't make me,
'cause I don't wanna stop.
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Posted: Sat Sep 06, 2014 12:27 pm
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Everywhere I look around I see how everyone aught to be
Every time I see myself I see there's always something wrong with me
𝑹𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒕𝒐𝒏 𝑱𝒂𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒕
𝑂 𝑐 𝑐 𝑙 𝑢 𝑚 𝑒 𝑛 𝑠
The silence was accentuated by the chirp of crickets, the scratching scuttle of rodents, and the occasional hoot-hoot of a territorial owl. Darkness enveloped the womb of the shoppe; the wooden shudders were latched and dark heavy curtains had been drawn. Not a slice of starlight could breech through. The landing just above the high wooden staircase was perhaps the cleanest damn thing in here, (artifacts included.) It went so far as even being polished, but, that was hard to discern without a source of light to glean across the bannister and railing. Up above, two souls slept soundly oblivious to the presence on the floor beneath them, despite the enchanted violin and bow that strung gently. Eventually, it's music would muse through the loft until it drifted down beneath the floorboards, through the ceiling, and permeated the shoppe down below. When Lutheil's resonated voice had erupted, the music had stopped.
The silence conquered once again, but it didn't last. The door opened, but the silhouette of a tall, broad shouldered man was not what had appeared. Instead, it was small, feminine, and petite as a child, which it most certainly was. Shrouded in shadows, she glared all the same and slammed the door shut. Minutes later, a very disconcerted looking man had slipped out, backwards first. His tone was dark as he reprimanded his daughter, and the last few words spilled out onto the floors of The Spiny Serpent. ”--to bed, Sophie, now.” The deep, solid sound was brusque, scratchy still from his interrupted slumber. Her response was high pitched, easy to hear but hard to discern, the squeak was gone as soon as it'd begun and would not reemerge again with the door now firmly shut.
Flames began to spark and flicker on the tail end of candles perched on intricate wrought iron wall sconces, the twining metal necks in the shape of serpents had multiplied in shadows, writhing almost alive. He seemed most displeased. His frown was set in stone. ”I'd hardly call this morning,” His flesh shone under the candle light as he thudded down the stairs, step by step, hardly concealed by the loose fitting under shirt (but at least he had remembered to shove on some trousers.) A closed fist rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He knew he couldn't complain, however, not when she seemed to have done exactly as he'd instructed—and without wasting a moment. A tired hand mitigated his features, massaged his temples, his muscles, his eyes. A sinuous smile manifested when his hand fell away. ”I presume you have good news, then, don't you?” Something dark glittered in those gilded eyes. Ferocity of focus fluttered down to the prized possession in her hands, the small phial which just might hold his entire future. But to be perfectly honest, he was surprised this wasn't a wake-up call to clean up some mess she'd made. His later years in life had begun to feel more like janitorial work at a morgue; it was entirely too messy. But a baby could fix that, with just the right push. He couldn't seem to hold himself a moment longer in anticipation when he said, ”please tell me you have good news.”
[OOC: ]
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44 years old ♛ 6’3” ♛ 172lbs
Home ♛ Office ♛ Island╚══════════════╝
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Essy ze Ninja Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Sep 10, 2014 6:48 pm
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Lutheil Marcellus- 23 years of age - ❦ - ۩
Ravenclaw Alumni / Relic Hunter for the Spiny Serpent / Just came from: A Heist / Wearing: This
All my life I've been over the top
I don't know what I'm doing all I know is I don't wanna stop
When the door at the top of the landing opened, Lutheil waved enthusiastically with her unoccupied hand, grinning at the figure she was about 95% certain was one of her boss's children. Her face shifted to a pout of dejection as the door slammed shut. She had been expecting at least a friendly wave in return, maybe a smile, but instead she got a door slammed at her, and a glare. Her shoulders slumped, clearly disappointed in the lack of enthusiasm in people at two in the morning.
Muffled footsteps and the sounds of someone being briefly scolded, and then Remington backed out of the doorway. Lutheil brightened up considerably as the lights flickered on and Remington lurched down the stairs. The flickering lights, now blooming to life, illuminated the overly exuberant witch mostly dressed in black leather. The dark color didn’t particularly suit her, but for break-ins black was a smarter color to wear rather than a floral blazer. The pants clung to every curvature on her legs, one of which was currently moving slightly, toe tapping to a silent beat. The jacket almost seemed to absorb light, but rather from sorcery this was because it was well-worn enough to have lost its shine in exchange for an exquisite softness. Her hair was, as always, a complete mess.
“Well, it’s past 12PM, it’s morning. Very early morning, but still morning!” She was about fifteen times too chipper for someone at this un-godly hour without coffee or other stimulants.
Lutheil used her free hand to gesture to the little bottle now resting in her open palm, “Sir does this look like bad news?” Lutheil asked with an arched eyebrow. Her face relaxed into an easy smile “I got a copy of his notes for this little draft too, and the snowflakes were beautiful.” For a brief moment, it looked like she was going to slip back off to the curious world inside her skull, which happened to now be filled with the bars of Disney and drifts of lacey snow that was papery to the touch. Lutheil managed to reel herself back into the world of the (mostly) sane just in time. “Right, well this needs to go to you now.” Lutheil pressed the little bottle into his hand, and then reached behind her to snag the notes out of her backpack. She gripped the file with two hands and held it out to Remington
“I thought they might be worth snatching if someone’s going to go through the trouble to get that potion this way. Who knows, maybe this’ll help the wizarding population.” With a knowing glint in her eye Lutheil smiled with half her mouth, suddenly resembling a fox. ”I’m guessing an older pureblood wants an heir? I know how stubborn traditional wizards can be. A bunch of Italian ones almost didn’t let me get my signet.”
Lutheil was referring to the large black-set brass ring inscribed with her family’s coat of arms she wore on a chain around her neck under her clothes, it was one of the few things that tied her to the rest of the Marcellus clan, and technically put her in line to possibly inherit something later. Except there were about seven other people ahead of her, and she didn’t care to knock them off. Lutheil was content to simply piss off as many people as possible during the annual family meetings she was now entitled to attend. Several of her uncles could turn all kinds of colors if they mad enough. It was vastly entertaining during the otherwise dry meetings about succession and finances. But Remington didn’t know that, and probably wouldn’t until she took off for Italy next year.
All fired up, I'm gonna go 'til I drop
You're either in or in the way, don't make me,
'cause I don't wanna stop.
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Posted: Sun Sep 21, 2014 1:54 pm
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Everywhere I look around I see how everyone aught to be
Every time I see myself I see there's always something wrong with me
𝑹𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒕𝒐𝒏 𝑱𝒂𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒕
𝑂 𝑐 𝑐 𝑙 𝑢 𝑚 𝑒 𝑛 𝑠
His eyes hadn't missed a beat; the spindling spider shrouded in cobweb and shadows in the far corner, the arching curve of leather restrained muscles bouncing to a beat of their own, and the pitter-patter of footsteps upstairs that had promised to go right back to sleep—ha—he should have known better. And he should have, in more ways than one, he reminded himself. His trust with Lutheil was professional, but it didn't mean she couldn't be bought over for a higher price. His mistakes were countless; endangered his daughter, turned his back, and weakened without his wand, what was he thinking? None of that had really mattered anyway, Remington could already feel that bubbling excitement in the pit of his chest and for just a moment, he couldn't decide if that was happiness or greed. ”If you say so,” he was inclined to concede. When redirected to the genuine bottle cradled in her hand, his smile was like a breath of relief. He was about to respond until her comment of snowflakes had thrown him off guard. But he didn't have time to wonder of the metaphorical or literal meaning. ”Wonderfully done. It wasn't too difficult, I hope?” It seemed only appropriate to at least inquire.
The cool glass surface exchanged hands, he eyed it promptly, gave its contents a swirl to survey the bubbles sputtering up from the bottom. His opposite hand grasped for the files on instinct, though he never took his eyes off the potion to do so. His attention was stolen, however, by that sly look she offered with coy, baited words. Remington narrowed his eyes and paused before he responded, gold eyes trained on hers. ”Something like that.” Purposefully vague, he couldn't help but wonder just how much she might have already pieced together. Still, her last spoken words left him wondering exactly who his new employee was, and what she was hiding. It wouldn't hurt to do a bit of research, he reasoned, but in due time. ”I'm sure 'helping the wizarding population' wasn't what you had anticipated when you first sought to work here...” He hoped not, because it certainly wasn't what he had in mind. It would be sold, yes, but not to the good people of the wizarding world. Oh no...Only the richest, if any. ”But if you keep this up you might expect an early promotion.” He mused. And wouldn't retiring from this dusty old shop be a dream?
[OOC: ]
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44 years old ♛ 6’3” ♛ 172lbs
Home ♛ Office ♛ Island╚══════════════╝
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Essy ze Ninja Vice Captain
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Posted: Fri Dec 12, 2014 9:14 pm
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Lately he's feeling like a broken promise
In the mirror staring down his doubt
There's only one thing in this world that he knows
He said forever and he'll never let her down
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Gʀʏғғɪɴᴅᴏʀ Aʟᴜᴍɴɪ || Dᴡᴀʀғ || Hᴏɢᴡᴀʀᴛs Sᴄʜᴏᴏʟ Gᴏᴠᴇʀɴᴏʀ
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Deveron stepped down into the secret area of the shop, having been acquainted with it for some time now. He'd been there several times before, mostly to enjoy some good food, good wine, a few bets, and of course other pleasantries. He smiled and nodded to various patrons he recognized and took a seat at one of the tables, getting himself a glass of wine and keeping an open ear to what was going on. He could use other methods, but left that to his rather inquisitive niece, after all. Besides, he'd known Remington for a while now, and the man was rather questionable to say the least. Then again, he worked in the one area in London that would cause anyone to raise a few eyebrows.
When the drink arrived, he took a sip and looked around. He wasn't sure what he was interested in at the moment, but he was certain he would know it when he saw it. Besides, he did have to get away from the mansion every now and then. The place was definitely old, and quite empty. Not much for him to do but piss around at home. It would explain why he went out frequently to look for company. A couple of men in the corner seemed to be engrossed in a sheet of parchment and Deveron didn't need to use his legilimency to guess they were discussing odds. A woman was seated in one's lap, and it made Deveron think that maybe he wouldn't mind that this evening. He doubted it would happen, but it was a thought. Not many people went for ones of his stature, after all. The neverending crisis of being a dwarf, after all.
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Location: Spiny Serpent
Thinking: Hrm, now I just need pleasant company and my night will be set.
OOC:
I don't wanna be another wave in the ocean
I am a rock not just another grain of sand
I wanna be the one you run to when you need a shoulder
I ain't a soldier but I'm here to take a stand
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Posted: Tue Dec 23, 2014 12:01 pm
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Everywhere I look around I see how everyone aught to be
Every time I see myself I see there's always something wrong with me
𝑹𝒆𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒕𝒐𝒏 𝑱𝒂𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒕
𝑂 𝑐 𝑐 𝑙 𝑢 𝑚 𝑒 𝑛 𝑠
[Mid March]
Nestled under a canopy of darkness, scandent vines of flesh crept closer to the golden rays of his feverish touch, they laced tendrils around his neck, fingered his lips, twined through dark locks of his hair, and devoured greedily the only source of sunshine they had. Little blossoms of moonflower blondes, platinum, gold, and ash, had rooted themselves to a serpent camouflaged and Remington did not disappoint. His attention faintly wavered from plucking petals to notice the proud little lion wobbling into his den; the few other patrons there hardly deigned to notice. Remington leaned closer to the women and their brambles, whispered in one's ear and cocked his head with indication, her expression was one of questionable doubt, but it only took a few words of his honeyed tongue, ”He makes up for it well in galleons.” to persuade her. She was moonlit, platinum blonde hair and milky skin veiled in silks of white, she cascaded her vines around Deveron and whispered something in his ear. Remington tempted himself with only guessing. ”Excuse me dears,” he tore the twining moonvines from his grip before they could poison him and slithered out from the shadows with a cigar in one hand and in the other, a crystal tumbler glass of aged scotch clinking with ice.
”Deveron, you dog, you should have owled you were coming,” he chastised him genially, ”I would have prepared.” Or if in the least, he would have slid on that wedding ring tucked away in his trouser pocket and reminded of it only by the stark pallor line that had wrapped around his finger every day since February, discolouring it. He didn't know why he had hid it, he was proud of the conquest, after all, after all it had nearly cost him. His marriage and newborn son wasn't exactly kept secret. But, he supposed, even whores don't like to be reminded that their whores so much as he rather not be reminded that he's been disowned, and Deveron might not appease to hear another gibe at his lacking of statures. He crossed the room to greet the man cordially, curious to see if he waved the young woman away or embraced her unbridled pleasures.
[OOC:]
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46 years old ♛ 6’3” ♛ 185lbs
Home ♛ Office ♛ Island╚══════════════╝
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Essy ze Ninja Vice Captain
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Posted: Sun Feb 08, 2015 6:44 pm
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Lutheil Marcellus- 26 years of age - ❦ - ۩
All my life I've been over the top
I don't know what I'm doing all I know is I don't wanna stop
Lutheil slipped into the space, her face slightly obscured by windswept bangs and a pair of aviator sunglasses. She looked utterly out of place here among the opulence; she was in Muggle clothing for starters, and not even particularly good muggle clothing. Her jacket looked like it had been dragged to Belize and back, as did the rest of them really. Lutheil had just gotten back about two days from a particularly long journey (Egypt this time), her bag stuffed with all kinds of goodies for the shop, and her head with more information and ideas to follow through on. The sun had given her a fantastically dark tan, and was still trying to decide if it was going to bleach her hair while it was at it. The past two years had gone pretty well in her opinion, and she was fairly certain that her boss agreed, even if they hadn’t seen each other particularly much face-to-face. There always seemed to be another rumor to track down, another little doo-dad to snag. She had yet to really screw up anything, although it seemed like her tinkering had gotten her into a few odd positions, some a teensy bit dangerous.
Like now.
Lutheil ignored the rest of the people in the room, and pulled out a stethoscope from her bag, and then heavy black glove made of what looked to be made of dragon hide. Donning the stethoscope, she knelt down near the far wall, her head cocked slightly to the side as she listened intently. She rapped the wall lightly with her knuckle thrice, paused for another listen, and then took a small step forward to repeat the little action. For the most part, she was ignored. She had been in and out of here enough that she was at least vaguely recognized by most here, the strange employee who popped in once every few weeks or so. After about the fourth repeat of the action, she dropped the end of the stethoscope to pull out her wand. Urgently, she blasted a hole in the wall, smoke curling from where the spell had impacted. Something small glinted as it lashed out at her.
Without a moment’s hesitation, Lutheil snatched at it with her gloved hand and stood up, her wand fixed onto it. What appeared to be a glossy two-foot long green snake was now wrapped around her arm, its head held firmly shut between her fingers. Lutheil spoke a phrase, almost song-like in pronunciation with its rises and falls, and a small golden glow engulfed the snake from her wand. The snake promptly relaxed, clinking as it revealed itself to be nothing more than a heavy necklace cleverly carved from Jade. She could feel more than a few eyes on her now. She grinned at them, white teeth standing out against her tanned skin. “The little bugger managed to chew his way through his pouch, clever thing hm?” Lutheil didn’t care to mention to them that if one of them had been bitten, it would have resulted in a bad end. Death, agony, that sort of thing. Really, what else would she have in her bag? Lutheil busied herself in carefully placing the snake into a stoneware jar clearly labeled CURSED. A short wave of her wand later, and there was now a thick rubber stopper sealing in the necklace inside the jar, ready for storage until it was ready to be taken a closer look at by someone. That done, the jar was stuffed unceremoniously in her bag as she stepped towards Deveron and Remington.
She grinned at both of them and gave a little wave. “Hullo! How’re you doing?” It was hard to deny her friendliness, despite her quirks, it was truly difficult to not want to smile along with her.
All fired up, I'm gonna go 'til I drop
You're either in or in the way, don't make me,
'cause I don't wanna stop.
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