alecto c a r r o w

the violence begets violence and within that rage finds solace; a picture of beauty with a soul as dark as p i t c h and the malice to see it through; devoted, beloved sister and precocious underling; never without power and calling only to hear it roar back; a force to be reckoned with. an RP blog for Alecto Carrow of Harry Potter fame exclusive to Silencio. Adult themes and explicit language and situations will be present, please view at your own risk. face claim of jessica de gouw Alecto Carrow, Death Eater, 28 years old, Sytherin, Pure Blood, Receptionist at the Ministry of Magic.

[em-amelievanity-blog]

beats and broomsticks | open

The night was a reason for celebration. Anybody who said that the Cannons didn’t deserve their win was a complete liar. Her team worked hard, it seemed to be all they did, yet at times they seemed to be the butt of a joke; an embarrassing stain on the legacy that was. It explained the rising mood, the joy that was floating in the air after their hard-earned victory. Emma wasn’t the type to go out and celebrate in the rowdiest of ways, much unlike her teammates. She did nothing except look entertained, sitting at the bar with her drink and taking a sip. Quidditch was her one place of solace, something that she relied on for her sanity.

Tonight, it seemed, her ambitions would be put on the back burner.

Grabbing the mead from in front of her, Emma modestly drank. It was easy after a match, to feel like one was on top of the world, it certainly made the drinks go down easier. Stretching her arms, she’d tapped the bar once more, signalling for another drink. The team was so overjoyed at their victory that they’d opened a tab, it was something she was willing to take advantage of.

Emma was an observant type, she was more than overjoyed to be watching and waiting, to be looking at what was happening around her. She knew that she wouldn’t remember a thing in the morning, she figured that she’d have fun on this evening. Her fingers tapped lightly to the beat of the song that serenaded the bar, foot tapping along. Reaching up to fix her hair, the girl avidly drank. Mead was a dangerous substance, it never really burnt enough to warn you that you should stop. Her mind was concentrating on few things in this moment; the music and mead being the brunt of them.

The only thing that snapped her out of trance was the body stumbling into her, causing her to stumble back.

  “-oh.”

She wasn’t really much for words.

[alectocarrowed]

Alecto had been under such scrutiny lately that she was trying to make more public appearances. It was hard to be blamed for things if a bunch of drunk witnesses had seen you out at a celebration of revelry and fun, was it not? But it wasn't really her scene... she had tried to dress up, to seem more normal, but still, she seemed almost too stiff among a bunch of dancing banshees screaming about their victory and the people who loved them. Her face turned sour every time a drunkard threw an arm around her and pulled her into one of those shifting back and forth drunken chants.

Almost imagining the look of both amusement and bemusement on her brother's face was enough to make her snap the twig she'd brought to shove inside her pocket, her wand still concealed much further away; she knew if she was to do this having something that could cause mass destruction at her fingertips was probably not wise, but the feel of something wooden and wand-like in a pocket always made her feel safer. The snap was loud, and somehow it calmed her, but only for a moment as a body careened into her, sending her smashing into Emma with the force of a woman twice her size.

"Petulant, abysmal little --" Her voice was barely above a whisper, and her head was turned from Emma to spit a curse -- figuratively, anyway -- at the person who had pushed her, but they'd moved off quickly enough. Eyes still full of fire but trying to reclaim her moment, she returned her gaze to Emma, stiffly offering, "I apologise, I was pushed..."

[alectocarrowed]

rabxlestrangex:

Alecto was likely right. It seemed unlike the members of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, unlike Amelia Bones, to let go of something they thought to be a lead. And, frankly, not investigating Alecto would be utterly careless, what with her being the last person known to be on ministry grounds. That didn’t mean it wasn’t inconvenient, and potentially dangerous for Alecto. “You’re probably right. Well, you didn’t do it, did you?” If she had, she had suffered a massive lapse in judgement and was a better actor than he thought. Rab’s question carried no real weight of suspicion, tone matching that of someone asking after the weather. “I can imagine it is. There are too many eyes in the Ministry, and too many of them are quick to turn hostile. I suppose the best you can do is act as though everything is normal and look convincingly shocked and horrified when Madame Bones drags you into a broom closet and tries to stare you down until you crack.” A brief smile slipped across his face and was gone again, “I don’t envy your position.”

At the mention of her brother, Rabastan nodded. He could empathize. In her position he too would be anxious for his older brother’s council and support, but inadvertently spreading an implication to Rodolphus was a step he could never take. “Understandable. Well, if you need anything and think I could be of any help, I’m usually not particularly hard to find. No one’s pointing any fingers at me for the time being, at least, and I hadn’t been to the Ministry for over a week before this morning, so it would be a bit more difficult to make a case for suspecting me.” 

Her question seemed like a natural progression of the conversation, and somehow it still resulted in a brief moment of pause before Rabastan replied. “I haven’t had the opportunity to speak with him since learning his office was broken into. I don’t like what all of this could mean for him, obviously, but I’ll seek him out this evening and see what he thinks of it all. Beyond this, though, he’s been busy, but doing well. I do need to drag him out to stretch his legs and have some fun soon though, the man works too much.” The smile that graced his expression then was edged with something darker, a bit dangerous, and when Rab raised his arms above his head and stretched there was something of a predatory cat in his movements. He glanced back over at Alecto and caught some of the nuance of her expression. His smile widened slightly, and he winked. 

Rabastan knew he and Alecto had been circling each other for some time now. It seemed inevitable, after all, had seemed inevitable for a long time. As any other affection and interest that caught Rab’s attention, Alecto had started out as a game for him. But the game had gone unfulfilled, and he remained intrigued. He wasn’t sure where they stood now. 

Thoughts of her brother were often the whole of her focus -- forever worried about what he might get himself into, knowing full well that his charms were far beyond that of hers; where she had to try hard at the guise of normalcy, her brother seemed to fit into the role of a charming, if not terrifying, man of means -- and left her little other time to worry for herself or anything, for that matter. She often went heedlessly and hurriedly into dangerous situations with only the thought of how it might affect Amycus on her mind.

She felt, in some ways, that she and Rabastan had that in common. Where she was working so hard to pretend to be charming, Rabastan seemed to share her brother's knack for charming the robes off of anyone he met, whereas she did not have such a gift; that being said, they were both wildfires personified in body and often let their minds take them where they needed, ships without bearing and forever fighting stormy seas.

It was inevitable, then, and somehow so simple that they'd both end up within one another's wake, doing this dance as if the world was their own to make into their image, and yet never fully letting one another know what feelings might beat beneath the breast of the other, and rightfully so. Fires though they may be they feared something concrete and often left their emotions at the door, so the appearance of someone -- at least for Alecto, she couldn't speak to his thoughts -- who she actually had an interest in threw a wrench into otherwise solid plans.

She sat silent for a span of beats, just watching his face as he spoke, and though her face gave away nothing -- its usual mask of indifference and cool confidence never faltering -- her eyes moved across each curve, from the way his nose sat across his face to the twitch of his lip when he found something amusing; perhaps there was something to be said, but would she ever say it?

"I didn't do it, my role is very much hands-off right now. I can't imagine why." Her lips pursed and she offered him what passed as a nigh-natural smile for Alecto's dark visage, and she shook her head shortly after, "What worries me is that someone was so quick to think it was me. Perhaps I am not as good at what I do as I had thought."

Her face was sour then; she didn't like the thought of failing at anything, even if it was something so stupid as seeming normal.

[alectocarrowed]

rabxlestrangex:

“Ah, yes, but who could fault you for wanting to keep me around? I’m a magnificent conversationalist.” Rabastan took in her smile, pleased at having prompted it’s appearance on her lips. “Not to mention a general joy to be around, at least that’s what I’ve heard.” Nothing in Rab’s tone would imply any sort of irony to his statement, but the quirk of his lips and a slightly raised eyebrow gave away the sort of lazy humor he fell into naturally. 

Alecto’s predicament was unfortunate. Knowing her as long as he had, Rabastan had no doubts that her darkness was a rival to his own, and that it bubbled just beneath the surface of a more sociable mask. He didn’t envy her job, sitting at a desk day after day and greeting and helping people for the same reason he had only lasted a handful of months in the Ministry himself. He had been suffocated by the restriction of it all. He imagined she probably felt the same way. And now, with suspicion cast on her, she was saved the tedium of small talk, but victim to a whole world of specified attention, looking for reason to blame her for the break-ins. “I’d say this is an ideal opportunity to cut your losses at the Ministry and find something more interesting to do with your time, but that wouldn’t be particularly helpful in diverting suspicions. Curse-breaking is lovely, if you’re in the market for a new career.” 

“In all honesty though, I am sorry about the position you’re in. Hopefully it will blow over soon, the Aurors and that lot have short attention spans detail-wise, they’ll likely find another lead and forget all about the circumstantial connection to you.” 

Rab had his legs crossed, one ankle propped up on his other knee, leaning back against the bench as if he owned it. He looked for all the world as if he were having a conversation with Alecto in his own home- though if he were there would be no reason to keep the darkness in check. She looked up, and he met her faint smile with a broad smile of his own. “Checking on you brings me to this bench, specifically, at least. But I came to the Ministry to try to herd cats and handle bureaucracy at the Improper Use of Magic office for a job they’re having me handle for them. I do wish I’d only been here for you though, your company is much more pleasant.”

Though Rabastan offered a level of comfort (and mystery) to Alecto's day, her mind could not draw far from where she lay in the grand scheme of things now. It was one thing to have Ministry attention on her, but another entirely to have the watchful eye of Amelia Bones on her. She'd heard about the woman's brother being injured in everything, but she had never thought that would get her caught in the cross-hairs.

Her eyes lifted to Rabastan and she shrugged, almost too delicately for a woman usually so confident, "I doubt Madame Bones is likely to give up. She is like a dog with a bone and I am but chattel beneath her teeth if I step out of line. Things have become far more tense for me than I am comfortable with and it is unsettling."

It was true that Alecto was not used to being that awkward, with ANYTHING, let alone something involving getting herself out of trouble. She was always confident and capable, and yet in the span of a short time she'd gone from confidence in herself to worry about her relationship with a man who was becoming somewhat more important with every passing conversation, as well as her own neck being on the chopping block under the gaze of someone who was renowned for her own abilities to terrify.

The Carrow siblings might be infamous, but it didn't mean they were safe from others of the same. Let alone the amount of pressure that would be put on her from the Death Eaters for the attention now coming their way, or the Dark Lord himself and his ideas about how things had gone; it was a situation she hadn't wanted to be in, and yet there she stood, bare and naked before the judgment of people she usually couldn't have cared less about.

"It would help if my brother were available, but with everything going on he's under as much scrutiny as I am and I do not wish to put him further in harm's way." Alecto cared mostly about herself, but no one as much as Amycus, and now Rabastan was wiggling his way into her cold, dark heart and making less room for anyone else, including her own well-being.

"How..." She began, not sure why she was asking; it was unclear if she should care at all but with Rabastan so close and the subject already at hand, she barrelled forward with reckless abandon, "How is your brother? Since we are on the subject of family..."

Caring for someone, even a minute amount as she might for Rabastand romantically at that moment, was so foreign a feeling to her that she just sort of stared at him for a moment as the question hung in the air. 

Alecto, a woman with cool confidence and eyes of cold fire, now stared blankly at a man like a teenager in puppy love.

[365filmsbyauroranocte]

Cronaca di un amore (Michelangelo Antonioni, 1950)

[alectocarrowed]

rabxlestrangex:

Rabastan’s meeting at the Ministry had been rushed, but he couldn’t bring himself to care that the people of the Improper Use of Magic Office with their cursed bracelet had practically shooed him out the door after he’d presented them with his updated findings on the curse and proposed a number of ideas to pick it apart. The intricacies of curse-breaking went over their heads anyway. And they weren’t the only ones who were preoccupied with other matters that morning.

Rosemary had appeared, peddling her story, that morning, and the scant facts as Rab knew them had lingered in his mind ever since. A break-in at the Ministry. Prophecy records stolen and Rodolphus’ office tossed, nothing known to be missing. He itched for more information, but it would have to wait. He was still supposed to meet Val and Regulus for lunch in Diagon Alley later that day, after all. Perhaps he could find his brother and see what he knew later that day. And Rosemary had promised to bring him any other information she was able to tease out of anyone, if not today then tomorrow. It was all a matter of time. Luckily the implications of the break-ins didn’t seem to be immediately pressing.

As he exited the Ministry, Rabastan’s gaze landed on a figure sat on one of the benches along the road, her eyes locked on the horizon, a pastry in her hand. Alecto Carrow.

Alecto had always been a presence in Rabastan’s life. The Carrows moved in the same circles as the Lestranges, after all, and at Hogwarts they’d been in the same year along with Bellatrix and Lucius. While Rab had pursued and gossiped with the younger Slytherin girls, Alecto offered an entirely different sort of distraction. Her darkness had always been compelling, and so Rab strode over to her bench, a hint of a smile crossing his features as she spoke. “Well, you could make a fairly good go of it, at the very least.” 

He sat, settling into a leisurely pose, and glanced over at her, expression faintly thoughtful, “How goes pariahdom? I’m almost certain Rosemary will spin the controversy to her advantage, but I don’t know if she’ll be particularly pleased with you.” 

If there was a person who could show up and improve her mood -- besides her brother, anyway, as he was always the one to make her feel the best; as good as Alecto could ever feel, at any rate -- it was Rabastan. Where her darkness coiled around her heart and soul at any given time, barely restrained by a word from their Master and urging from her brother, so did Rabastan's lay almost bare for the world to see. He came pre-equipped with charm and prestige, which helped him pass by people unknown, never fully understanding the beast that slept inside his own heart.

Alecto, on the other hand, was immediately attracted to the beast she saw, rather than the charming forefront. That being said, what he proffered in charm was something new to Alecto and somehow well within her tastes; she found him appealing, charming, and just dark enough to hold her attention. It was something hard won, hard fought, and they'd spent enough time dancing around one another that Alecto had nothing more than a deep-seated desire to see it finished.

Alecto would very much like to explore Rabastan Lestrange.

As he came to sit and offered his response, she rolled her eyes, but a small smile tugged the corners of her dark lips and her attention shifted aside to focus on him, "But never for you would I pretend to want you to go away, no?"

She felt no reason to hide how she felt. It helped much with the appearance of being normal and not a complete psychotic hag if she were to show affection or attention towards someone romantically, and as much as she wished -- deeply and desperately -- to admit that was the only reason for her fascination with Rabastan, it wasn't even remotely true; she genuinely wanted to know the touch of his fingertips, the taste of his lips, and the manner of his darkness. Alecto had an attraction to someone and it was so rare and strange as to be alien and disconcerting to the dark lady (not to be confused with THE Dark Lord) and her usual proclivities.

"People are leaving me alone, which is somewhat delightful given that I'm forced to make small talk at a front desk on most days and that's not even remotely the want I have." Alecto offered quietly, calmly, and peeled a bit of her pastry apart to nibble at it, revealing a rich red jelly in the center, her finger stabbing at it almost ruefully, "That being said there are other eyes on me which means I have to behave much more now than I would like."

She felt odd, but she wanted nothing more than to lift her chin and look at his face, and being a woman who was given to fits of pique and often told to ignore them because they would lead to violence and bloodshed (a thing she was not to be encouraged for now,) she let her attention find his face and found her lips twitching faintly into a smile again, "So what brings you here? Checking on me?"

It was doubtful, and to be honest, she didn't even sound remotely hopeful, but it allowed her to also work on her small talk.

[alectocarrowed]

Alecto knew fear. To be true, most of the times she saw fear she was on the opposite side, but she still understood it, having been taught what fear is when she met someone whose power finally felt like it stood up against her own. But now... with all fingers and eyes pointing towards her with an air of absolute certainty at what she’d done, she felt it keenly and personally.

It didn’t show; no sweat on her brow or quivering of her lip, but she did feel it thrumming with the beating of her heart and the way the questions seemed to revolve around her status and associations. She’d call it persecution or prejudice, but really all mice tended to get that way when they were also afraid. She knew what it was to be on the side of the judgment, and also had knowledge of being judged, but never before had it felt so utterly terrifying as it did at that moment. 

She hadn’t been relieved of her position, at least not yet, as they had no proof, but she could tell by the looks she got when she was at work that not everyone believed the quick story she had woven from nothingness about a self-indulgent and hungry investigator (if you can call it that) in need of a story; it was the first thing that had come to her mind, and honestly the one that felt the truest on her tongue as she spoke.

Lying wasn’t exactly Alecto’s forte. As wicked as she was, and as evil, as she was (and make no mistake, there is such darkness in Alecto that evil is putting it lightly,) she was also mostly truthful. Even when pretending to be the person she was never good at -- the somewhat quiet, half-smiling Ministry worker who very much enjoyed her job dealing with people’s nonsense -- she did it with a sense of truth to it. She never lied about herself so much as she wrapped it in a cushion of untruth; it was safer for everyone that way.

Sitting outside the Ministry now and staring at the clouds on the horizon (it was always likely to storm at these times as if the heavens themselves were rising up to meet her mood) she felt an underlying sense of panic, but still bit lightly into the pastry that was sitting on her lap. She’d gotten used to pretending that nothing was as it truly was inside of her, so why would this be any different.

The shadow that covered her as someone approached wasn’t even a blip on her radar, but she still managed to speak calmly, “If you wish to have a seat, I cannot stop you.”

[alectocarrowed]

greengrass-may-queen:

Ophelia’s extremely dilated pupils fought to focus on Alecto’s face. It was familiar in that way that meant she might not remember the name or the place where they met, but it likely wasn’t important, and she could be assured that the person would remember the details for both of them. “Probably. Why? Did you find it?” Giggling at her own joke, she twinkled in the street, waiting to see if her new companion was going to be difficult. There seemed to be a long pause, though that could very well just be Ophelia’s perception of time, which usually resembled that of a hummingbird. “You’re not supposed to partake, you’re supposed to join in. Honestly, did no one ever play with you as a child?” Tucking her arm through Alecto’s, Ophelia smiled and gestured in front of her. “Lead the way then.” Pausing, she cocked her head in thought. “Hang on, are you not wanting to come because you’re worried about your wardrobe? Because I have loads of pretty dresses at home. We can stop by and grab some, if you can Apparate! Or perhaps you’re going somewhere better? I’m very flexible when it comes to plans.”

The idea of leading someone off into their doom, then playing with them much like a spider might with a tasty treat caught in their web flickered across the synapses of Alecto’s brain, but were quickly snuffed out by her new directive: the better we present ourselves to the public the less likely they are to trace us back to things later on. 

It was a hard learned lesson, and one she was not keen on forgetting and having to recalculate; it was hard enough to get this far in the first place, should she loose herself on the world wholly she might never come back and then she’d be a witch without a wand: lost and helpless.

Instead, as Ophelia’s arm tucked into her own she gave a soft, almost strained smile, knowing full well the girl was blitzed beyond the telling of it and would likely remember very little of this, but just in case she did she was presenting the best parts of what she’d learned in her attempts to present as somewhat normal and stay within the means... but she was not without her pride.

“I am dressed fine and need not wrap myself in shiny things to make an entrance, I just do not wish to partake of anything such as the party, that’s all, I have no desire to ‘party’.” Alecto said with an air of truth. She’d rather gouge her eyes out than be forced to mingle with people she felt were little above insects. It was nauseating.

[alectocarrowed]

narcissa-noir:

It didn’t really matter to Narcissa who had so rudely bumped into her, she would’ve had the same venom for anyone whether she knew them or not. When the woman turned around it happened to be someone she did know, Narcissa didn’t try to take anything back, just met the other woman’s gaze with an unimpressed glare. She best apologize or there would be hell to pay. Alecto didn’t speak, at first, just stared at her but it was hardly a new reaction. People stared at Narcissa all the time and it happened so frequently that she’d pretty much come to expect it; It would have honestly been stranger for Alecto not to stare. 

“If you’re thin skinned enough to be wounded by those words then perhaps you deserve it.” Granted, Narcissa generally meant to wound with her words, at least in this kind of situation, but a fellow Death Eater should theoretically be made of stronger stuff so she challenged Alecto. Cissa looked Alecto over, judging her appearance as she did with everyone, and found her makeup severely wanting. She should’ve made more of an effort, but then few could be as flawlessly made up as Narcissa herself. Alecto seemed intent to try and blame this on Narcissa and she narrowed her eyes. “You’re the one who got in my way and made sure I ran into you so this is is hardly my fault.” Whether that first part was true or not didn’t matter, so long as everyone involved understood that Narcissa wasn’t in the wrong. She would’ve said more but Alecto seemed to realise the error of her ways and offered to make it up to Cissa. “I very much think you should. What do you propose?” She sounded a little bored, as if it didn’t really matter to her, as if it was simply expected. At least Alecto acknowledged she was in the wrong. 

There was something about the Black family that seemed almost too full of themselves, especially for people so steeped in controversy, but it was not her place to say anything or judge... at least not out loud. 

No, instead Alecto just offered a thin smile to Narcissa, noting her attitude and filing that away in the vault in her mind for later consumption when she had the reins loosened on her a bit and was able to let out the rage that built through her attempt to hide her everyday self. 

The number of retorts that rose to her mind to reply to Narcissa were many and varied, but she bit them back and chewed them down like chattel and gave another, slightly more bitter smile in regards to the fair woman before her; so different from her sister... and with Bellatrix she could somewhat get behind her attitude because she had the violence to support it, but alas...

“I’m sure I wouldn’t know where to begin to make remuneration for the slight I have seemingly caused you by existing, though I am sure you have ideas of your own on how to do so?” The boredom in Narcissa’s voice could not compare to the very expression Alecto wore in her daily life; one of a wolf not in sheep’s clothing but drowning in the wool she was forced to wear to pass for normal. She was an oddity dressed in bows that ended up seeming like a piece of unmoving, unfeeling art... rather than a person herself.

[alectocarrowed]

itsalcprwtt:

Alice returned the smile that the woman aimed her direction. It was a lovely smile, she noted, though there was something missing in her eyes that didn’t match the expression on her features. The coolness of her ice blue gaze made the friendly grin come off a little forced but, considering the time of morning, she couldn’t fault anyone for beguiling their way through conversation.

“That’s a shame,” commented Alice when Ms. Carrow confessed that she wasn’t typically brought any treats throughout the day. Warm smile still in place, she adjusted the strap of her bag before asserting, “We’ll just have to fix that, now won’t we? Do you like biscuits with your tea? A cafe not too far from here was recently brought to my attention and their pastys and teas are simply to die for.”

Wiggling the cup in her hand in a slight side of side, she motioned to their similar beverages and revealed, “It’s the same place I got these. If you like it there may just be more treats in your future.” Her grin widened with the sincerity of her promise. It didn’t have to lead to conversation every time, but it never hurt to do something nice for someone else. 

She nodded an understanding bob of her head at Ms. Carrow’s dictum that the day was no busier than usual. “Well, at least you know what to expect,” was Alice’s benign comment, soft and warm as she smiled warmly at the other witch.

When asked if there was anything else she needed from the other woman Alice shook her head. “I just thought I’d share some warmth on a cool day like today. I’ve seen you on my way to the Auror Offices, but I don’t think I’ve ever stopped by to say hello. It’s Alecto, isn’t it? Alecto Carrow?” She held out her hand for the darker witch to take for a long overdue introduction. “Alice Prewett. It’s lovely to officially meet you.”

Noting the streams of people walking in and out of the area, Alice offered the woman behind the desk a quiet simper. “Well, I don’t want to take up anymore of your time, I’m sure you’ve lots of work to do.”

It has to be said that the fault lies not with Alice, but with Alecto herself, as the latter stared almost too hard at the woman before her and seemed, if only briefly as if she were internally screaming and wishing to tear something apart from the inside out. 

“I do not mind biscuits no, but I do like my teas to be a tiny bit bitter to counteract the sweetness sometimes.” Alecto tended to like things dark and bitter, rich and full but... with that underlying bite of bitterness that honestly spoke a lot of her own self. As hokey as it seemed, you could compare her tastes in foods and drinks against her own soul and find a lot of comparisons.

It was a short moment before Alecto’s hand lifted, taking Alice’s in her own and giving it a shake, the smile she’d been trying to perfect playing across her features once again as she regarded the woman and gave a short not, “Yes, it’s Alecto Carrow. Not many people feel the need to take the time and introduce themselves to a receptionist, to be true.”

It didn’t bother Alecto much; she understood feeling better than people, but always one to perfect her craft she still offered commiseration and rumination over that sort of perceived slight. She didn’t mind being left alone and not included in introductions usually. Alecto was a pureblood and felt above most people, and often her haughtiness still came out in her personality, but the whole of the game was to pretend to give a shit about those who were not, to at least try to blend in such for now.

She dreamed of the day when she’d be unfettered and allowed to be herself, but for now, merely gave Alice’s hand a light squeeze before politely letting it go, “I really do appreciate you stopping by, however. Did you have any other business I might be able to help with or must you be running off to work?”

It engaged Alice further, it was Alecto attempting the type of thing she’d been reading about; the forward face of caring, giving an option for someone to continue but ending on the ‘yes you must be busy and have to leave’ option to try and force that hand.

[theyrexeno]

An Apple A Day | Open

[alectocarrowed]

theyrexeno:

Oh, but that was interesting. Something Xeno had said or done- though all they’d done was eat some of their apple and that hadn’t inspired any sort of response previously- seemed to lure some inner depth to Alecto that otherwise remained hidden. Her eyes lit up, and Xenophilius watched, utterly intrigued, as something changed, the emotion was reeled in, and Alecto returned to being a vision of neutrality. Xeno flashed her a grin nonetheless, if for no other reason than as a thank-you for providing them with something to ponder the next time they were bored. 

“Hm, oh, yes, I’ve heard that too.” They let their eyes slide down from where they’d rather unabashedly been staring at Alecto to regard the apple in their hand. “Fruit, you know. Generally considered to be fairly healthy, though once I couldn’t really be bothered to go and get more food and ate only pears for a day or two and, well, I was told then that that wasn’t a particularly clever idea. Fruit is good for other things as well though, citrus has a remarkable ability to attract many insect-like magical creatures.”

Xeno’s smile returned as Alecto continued talking, pleased by the poetry of the words despite the fact that they and Alecto saw very different meanings behind them. “I’d agree, I suppose. Red’s a very powerful color, burdened by its meanings and its vibrancy and all sorts of things, but it is surmountable. It takes a rather considerable personality, to be sure, but some people thrive in conflict. Choosing red to make a mark on the world would be a bold statement.” They toyed with the stem of their partially eaten apple and looked over at Alecto, just watching. “I’m more of a cool color person, personally- I’m rather fond of purple.” 

The nature of Alecto was mysterious, mostly because she was told not to let herself so free in public. The truth of it all was that if something ever happened to Amycus there would no longer be a reason to play nice, even with the guillotine of powerful people hanging over her head, so the world was better for the existence of Amycus Carrow, no matter how little people seemed to appreciate it.

Her attention on Xeno was rapt at this point, however, finding something so intriguing in them that she couldn’t quite place. It was perhaps the mystery of them that intrigued Alecto the most, knowing full well that she might seem just as odd as they did to anyone who wasn’t inside her inner circle; she was the odd one who often seemed as if she were reigned in or wholly loose depending on the situation. A contradiction, for sure.

“The fact I’ve learned about most things is that people depend on moderation for anything to be considered good. In excess, people hate most things.” It was as much a comment on the idea of fruit as it was on her ability to let go and rip things apart when her yoke was lifted; people loved her when they needed something unbridled and terrifying, but wished only rein her when she wasn’t needed for such violence. She was the definition of excess to most of them.

As her stormy eyes flicked back up to Xeno, she wobbled a smile; it couldn’t be said that she liked them, as Alecto liked very little in this world, but much as anyone needs things that they find interesting, so too did Alecto need people who did not outwardly annoy her at every second. Amycus was the only one to fit the mould of someone she actually cared about, and now Xeno was a curiosity in themselves that gave her pause.

At the mention of purple, she gave another soft smile; blood before it spills also has the illusion of being blue and purple beneath the skin, and sometimes even as it first spread from a vein it seemed that way (a trick of the light) so she’d grown to love the colour as well, “Oh yes purple is also very good, but I still think that crimson is likely the colour that fits me the best?”

[alectocarrowed]

mayapatil:

Maya had the pleasure of considering herself a worldly witch, for not only was she a product of French high society, but her family’s blood belonged to one of the oldest, most powerful lines of magic that India had to offer, and thus, she was lucky enough to experience a wide range of cultures from beyond England’s grasp. 

However, a particular frustration that was pervasive across all three cultures was that the woman within these great aristocracy were always presented as not nearly as equal to their their male counterparts be it brothers, fathers, or husbands. It was ludicrous to think these powerful woman to be any less than they actually were, but Maya had learned to embrace the power that came with being underestimated.

After all, it was rather fun watching the faces of her victims writhe in fear as they realized Maya Patil was anything but a meek socialite.

Nonetheless, Maya counted herself lucky, for within English society she stood alone, no male figures to veil her talents, but rather her power had to be kept hidden due to what a much lower society had deemed “unacceptable”. Her role to the world was a nothing more than a pretty debutante of English society, but among the Dark Lord’s most elite, it was quickly made clear her capabilities were far from limited to party hosting and chitchat over tea.

For the most part, when not required to keep up appearances, Maya tended to keep to herself, preferring to keep her secrets close and trust closer, but on occasion she would venture away from her rather lonely life and allow herself the taste of good company. And indeed Alecto Carrow was good company, a woman who shared the same appetite for darkness and power that the world would never know.

It was a strange thing to be among those who knew of the duality of her life, those who knew both Miss Patil the socialite and Maya Patil the slayer. Among them she was perhaps her truest self, delicately dancing the line between both roles, exuding both every shred of grace and ferocity all in the same breath.

Her attention is caught by the question– a vague one, but one she still understood in it’s entirety. “Well, for one, we wouldn’t have to be fighting right now, because we already would have won,” she chuckled airily, though there remained a certain intensity in her eyes. “I’m afraid patience isn’t a virtue I call my own. I have a tendency to prefer when things are done quickly, and of course, accurately. Then again, the creatures I work with don’t offer me the luxury of biding time.”

Even though Alecto was hard at work to try and reform her public appearance, her resting bitch face often left people skirting her as if she might lash out at any moment. The truth of it was that her time was so planned out and meticulous in its merits of appearing outwardly friendly that sometimes the people with their look of fear or wariness made her more than a little upset. She had chosen to curb herself and keep herself under check for the sake of her brother more than anything, and the idea of failing him left a sour taste in her mouth the likes of which she had never had the pleasure of before.

It was hard enough to be a woman in these times, but to be a witch who was also capable and dangerous but needing to appear meek and polite... it was like shoving every demon she had in a thin, wet paper sack and hoping to the gods that no one would ever deign to touch them. She struggled to be respected when she was in her daily guise of the lady Carrow, and to be true she knew that was what needed to happen, but also she didn’t like that it always went to one extreme or the other.

Were she allowed, she would be a force which would swallow worlds, a never-ending fire that would consume and leave nothing but sorrow and ash in its wake; she would feel nothing, but she would be everything. Sometimes she swore she could see a future where she and her brother were allowed their freedom and around them the pain of others would bolster them, but all this hiding now... it felt stifling.

“I know that feeling,” came Alecto’s reply, her eyes closing heavily for a moment to remember the last time she was allowed freedom to do as she pleased as far as pain and violence went, “but I do tend to take my time if I have it to spare. I enjoy my work at times.” 

Their vagueness, the way they spoke to one another, they might as well be talking about any old hobby or job, including a position of power at the Ministry. But, it could also be as innocuous as baking... how sad that the latter is likely the more obvious choice for most people who milled around the pair of women who could literally bring a world to its knees.

“Tell me something, have you had any real fun lately with all that’s going on?”

[poseidons-trident]

The Erinyes

In Greek mythology the Erinyes  also known as the Furies, were female chthonic deities of vengeance;  Alecto (“endless”), Megaera (“jealous rage”), and Tisiphone (“vengeful destruction”) 

[alectocarrowed]

As she sat down at her desk for yet another drolling day of tedium at the Ministry, she was met with the sight of the Prophet and its front page. This would be the truest test of the person she was meant to present in public versus the person she was deep down in her heart of hearts.

As she read over what exactly information was had, her eyes blinked almost as if she had to read it again, and her face was a calculated measure of restraint and calm; inside, however, the storm began to burble up inside her stomach and threaten to break free of its binds. 

One of the main reasons she had adopted so public a persona is because the only life in this world she feared for was that of her brother, and in that the thought of losing him because she couldn’t bring herself under control was almost too much to bear. But to know that people could be doing these things and, to be honest, that she hadn’t been asked to carry it out made her fingers tighten against the paper in her hand and scrunch the faces of the pictures across its front.

Someone walked up, leaning over the desk as they realised Alecto was not wholly paying attention and caught a glimpse of the paper, giving a curt nod and derisive snort, “Nasty business, that... shouldn’t be allowed; should be doing something about it, I think.”

For a moment, it got no reaction from Alecto, still staring at what had been wrought and knowing now, more than ever, she had to make sure to mind her manners and do as she was told, however loathsome it felt to do so; to be under anyone’s boot.

Then, a smile was brought forth, though tight at the corners, manufactured just so as to convey a sort of forward face of being genial as you work at a front desk and also a bit sad (sad was the emotion, right? this was sad business?) at what she’d just had to read, before offering in her dulcet tones, “It really is dreadful... how may I help you today?”

[alectocarrowed]

The Ties That Bind

@angelusxxmortis

She hated the time she spent apart from Amycus, as in most things he was the rock in her stormy sea of emotions, but she knew that their time apart was also necessary for over-arching goals that they both had. It didn’t make it easier, but it did keep her in check so that she didn’t, for instance, blow someone halfway across the room for giving her attitude as she sits at the reception desk in the Ministry.

However, it also meant that she often found herself counting the days until she and Amycus would have time to spend together, be able to settle in and have an actual chat and, in all honesty, where she could truly be herself, if only for a moment. It had been hard to schedule time with him lately, given both their schedules being crazy and she knew he hated it as well, but finally (finally) the powers that be had decided to afford Alecto some time with her beloved brother.

A gloved hand came to rap her knuckles on his door, dressed as she always was in particular layers meant to hide a lot of her from view, but not so bulky as to hinder her motion. This allowed her to stroke along her want and do certain things with her hands out of the common eye, and helped keep her rage in check when in public. She’d cultivated an image that she wasn’t keen on allowing to slip, ‘lest it leads to her downfall.

The more she stood and waited for him to answer the door, the more she realised how pathetic her life had become. Where once she would confide in Amycus the awful things she’d done -- as a child and as an adult -- she now merely had anecdotes of meetings with people that didn’t end in their deaths or her satisfaction; she hated it. One day, hopefully near in the future, they would be let off their leash (Alecto more than Amycus, to be true; men often curried more favour in the idea of a violent mind than women,) and allowed free reign over their demons once again.

Another rap fo her knuckles, “Amycus...?” still that polite tone, the one she’d honed for the listening shadows and prying eyes, but the edge of it was becoming sharper as the seconds passed.

[alectocarrowed]

darkxwithin:

Is it better to suppress something that can go out of control?–or give it that freedom which allows this something to flower, expand and learn control when it is needed? Of course, we are talking about someone rather than something. Rosemary used to have to fit into a certain box made by her parents which every side was a rule, the bottom a demand and the lid merely a suffocation technique to hinder any chance she had of getting her own way.

—they didn’t count on her stubbornness to achieve what she wanted though.

There are certain times when her behaviour has to be reigned in by others, but somehow, if it is certain individuals, Rosemary doesn’t quite feel the same suppressions she ever did whilst in her mother and fathers care. 

She is incorrigible though, there’s no denying it. Hell, even she would openly admit it. The woman can be damn hard work and along with the fact she is a witch to boot, can make things very dangerous.

“Spontaneously combust…now that I would like to do to someone…”

She thinks about it for a moment or two and then smirks.

“Though they won’t be around for any humiliation…so perhaps the other route is best…for now anyway.”

Permanently ending someone, isn’t something which lays on her conscience at all, but she also knows that it is important to not get caught when she is part of something far more important than all of this.

“Dermestium….I like that one…though flesh-eating beetles?..hm…could backfire…I think I might go with devesto…and activate it to the cheating.”

When the male bumps into her, there’s more agitation inside than her voice is letting on. The ball of anger has been ignited in the pit of her stomach and she can’t help but lean forward to the shell of the young wizard’s ear.

“Bump me again…touch me….even just brush against me and you will regret it, boy..I will have you talking gibberish before glueing that tongue of yours to the top of your mouth.”

She brings her head back a little so her line of vision is firmly fixed on his eyes, her expression letting him know she is deadly serious.

“Now run along, lad…before I follow through with my threat.”

Alecto had only known reigning once she’d been found out in the first place. Most of her worst crimes had been committed in her youth when she realised that not only did the loss of life not affect her in any way but in fact, it had the added bonus of giving her somewhat of a thrill. To this day, no one really knew just how much life Alecto had eaten in her discovery of magic, or just how many lives lay dormant now because of her actions, but nor did she really care if anyone did know; it was just a point of fact that they did not.

The truth of her situation was less someone trying to keep her stifled so much as... her brother wished to keep her alive and had, in his own way, pleaded with her. He’d found a way long before to tame his own demons, and she had yet to fully come to grips with the reality of that. One day they would be free to be as they were, unbidden and unbridled, but furious nonetheless.

All the while these thoughts percolate in her head as she watched Rosemary tend to her own dilemma, running through a gamut of spells and options to bring torment in their own way. She could respect that, and in some ways, she might even find something kindred within the dark woman who sat near her, but on the surface, she showed nothing other than a slow blink of her dark lashes and the twitch of recognition from the corner of her mouth.

She went to speak, only to see the woman in action, briefly marveling at the fact that she could mete out her own anger in such a way as to not snap his neck and rend his head from his flesh, or watch him dance beneath a curse the likes the world would come to fear one day. She missed that look she now saw in the young man’s eyes, and her head shook slowly, dark hair falling across her face to shadow the look of longing as it came, and subsequently melted, from her face.

“You are something else, Rosemary, I will give you that. But I do applaud your ability to let your rage trickle out in such a way. I fear if I turn that faucet it will never stop and the world will know nothing else...” The words, as threatening as they seemed (though not to Rosemary, but to the world on the whole) were monotone as they left the brunette’s darkly red lips, and she shook her head again, “How do you do it?”

Was it actual curiosity? Perhaps.

[primaballerinazabini-blog]

Grave Circumstances | Open Starter

[alectocarrowed]

primaballerinazabini:

Alecto’s icy detachment was nothing new. Valerian knew to expect it, but that didn’t stop her from feeling around for buttons to press or chinks in the other woman’s armour to pick at. The fact that she was so indifferent was a source of great entertainment for Val, like a mechanical puzzle she would never really work out but enjoyed playing with anyway. 

She settled in her seat, straightening her skirt over her thighs as she crossed her legs at the ankles. A glance was shot around the stately restaurant to assess its occupants and Valerian was pleased to see that there was a decent amount of activity as important people with wealth and status met for tea and business, or whatever else it was that lured them. Numbers made it easier to keep up pretense, funnily enough. The more people there were the simpler it was to have a quasi-private conversation. 

An understanding hum sounded from Val as she brought her elbows onto the table’s surface, interlaced her fingers, and rested her chin on the threaded knuckles. Her smirk was sultry as she casually inspected Alecto’s features.The complete and utter indifference she spoke with in regards to work seemed appropriate, even for anyone who wasn’t stark raving mad.

“The voices make it difficult to focus, do they,” wondered Val, teasing smirk playing on her darkly painted lips. Brows furrowing in mock uncertainty, she revised, “Or is that not your brand of loony?”

Valerian couldn’t imagine sitting behind a desk all day, every day, feigning interest in helping anyone navigate their heads out of her arses. It all just seemed so… jejune. Though, in Alecto’s case, Val supposed it was a learning experience in normality. 

Playful intrusiveness rekindled, Val crossed one leg over the other and with the foot of her top leg, caressed a lazy up and down along Alecto’s calf. Their blue eyes remained locked as Val smirked at the taller woman, still stroking her calf in slow, lackadaisical movements. 

The question was redirected her way but, before she could answer, the server returned with drinks. Val purred a sultry thanks before taking a sip of the tart sangria in her glass. Smiling up at Alecto, her foot still caressing her thigh, Valerian provided an honest, “The dancing, as you so concisely put it, is wonderful.” She leaned back in her seat and raked her fingers through her fringe, shaking volume into the strands and explaining, “We have a show at the opera house in two weeks. Rehearsals have been brutal.”

Feline guile flashed behind her eyes, a knave smirk easing from one corner of her mouth to the other. Val said a smoky, “I’m hoping to see at least one Carrow on opening night, but I’ll take the set if I can.” The back of her foot stopped briefly behind Alecto’s knee before descending again. “Who knows, you might actually enjoy the show. Though, the real fun happens at the after party.”

Everything they did was for show, to be honest, and as much as Valerian herself seemed to love the masquerade, perhaps in small part because her very profession allowed even her slight attitude seem almost normal, Alecto found it stifling most of the time.

Where Valerian was beauty and grace, so too was Alecto, but beneath all that was the faint twitch of muscles and a want to burn things to the ground, or visit violence upon someone who didn’t even remotely look as if they were asking for it. She existed for the chaos, and not just in the vain of her own pride or mission, but just because chaos was her very existence on the whole. She was the fire that would consume everything.

... if only they’d let her.

Snapping back to reality and her gaze falling upon Valerian, as always surprised by the beauty that stared back at her from across the table and shrouding her own baleful gaze in somewhat far deeper and a conceit of normalcy, she murmured, “I am so glad that you find us appealing enough to be kept as a pair, but I assure you neither my brother, nor I, are good at being kept. There are very few in this world who can even remotely compare to what we have inside, and for them alone do we mimic a bow.”

It was true that she only followed these rules for two reasons: one, that there was a power far beyond hers in charge, and two because her brother asked it of her. Loath as she was to admit that she held any attachments in this world, she never denied her love for Amycus or the fact that she would bleed willingly just to see him happy. No other person could ever hold such sway over her or her heart, and that was one of the key reasons she was so utterly protective of him in such an obvious and overtly threatening way.

“Perhaps, though, I will come to your show to see what it is that keeps you so spry, and perhaps then I will understand my brother’s fascination with you... because, dear Valerian, as it stands now... I can’t even begin to fathom it.” It wasn’t said in cruelty, no, more as a point of fact. Alecto felt nothing, and so she spent no venom or energy in her admission; she just didn’t understand why she and Amycus had a thing going on at all. Not rude, just truth.

Though perhaps the words had sounded rude in their candidness.

[theyrexeno]

An Apple A Day | Open

[alectocarrowed]

theyrexeno:

Alecto’s words were measured, heavy, contrasting intriguingly with the way words spilled out of Xeno’s mouth seemingly thoughtlessly, airy and rife with disjointed thoughts and ceaseless digressions. They hummed quietly in reply as she spoke, taking a half-step sideways to lean against the wall of the building. 

“Depends on the person, I suppose. You’ve got to compete with red, you see- it’s all too easy to drown in red. Mauve is an easy color though, our dear apple man would have flourished in it. I think his personality would be lost if he were wearing a pair of mesmerizing red robes- which sounds lovely, really, all red robes- even if he had continued vocalizing his displeasure at the world outside my window.” Xeno presented these observations in a genial tone that seemed unaware of their subtle insult. Or, rather, that implying someone’s personality left something to be desired didn’t register as an insult to them, but as a simple empirical fact. “I do think he could’ve done with an apple as well, perhaps it would’ve improved his mood.” 

They took another bite of their apple as if to punctuate this point. “Red is a good though. It’s utterly riddled with meanings, maybe that’s why it drowns people.”  A smile fluttered across their features, sudden and accompanied with raised eyebrows, as if it had surprised Xenophilius themself, “If only grindylows were red. Though I suppose green is supposed to be bad luck as well, and most people I’ve met considered drowning to be rather bad luck.” 

Her eyes lit up briefly at the mention of drowning in red, as if they were speaking directly to her soul, and if she was rarely allowed to be free (and it is true that she’s often kept under a lock and key, let out with a tiny bit of lead just so she doesn’t go crazy,) then that moment the demon that lived inside her stomach crept up and out of her gaze as she stared at Xeno with delight.

Caught too soon, almost as if on cue, Alecto’s expression shifted back to something more neutral, but if they wanted to Xeno could extrapolate so much from that brief look and see to the very heart of Alecto’s problem; she was a forest fire waiting to happen, and held back by a thin sheet and pretense.

“Apples are said to be good for you.” She did not bother to bring up the muggle adage about how an apple a day would keep a doctor away. First of all, the distaste would be clear on her tongue as she spoke of such a thing, and even someone so lost in their own thoughts as Xeno often was would be able to see through her. She’d already let loose briefly and could not afford to do so again, so instead, she just offered a measured smile.

“Not everyone is drowned by red, some swim in it, some live in it and quite freely and use it as their own. It becomes the paint with which they leave their mark on the world, no?” Alecto’s head tilted slowly; even when measured she could come off almost as flitted as Xeno themselves.