The sharp point of the dagger (a steal, recent or not, he couldn’t remember) made a repetitive noise as it found its mark again in the center of the poorly painted dart board on the wall in front of him. With a snap of his fingers, it reappeared in his hand only to fly in the same direction it had been going in the last fifty times once again. It was a slow night, but one he certainly wasn’t willing to break, not even for the person that had stopped behind his chair.
He didn’t look over his shoulder at them. He didn’t even uncross the ankles that were currently taking up a very comfortable spot on the windowsill next to him.
“Won’t be in the wish granting mood until tomorrow. Might as well just go home and save your breath.”
the familiar burn of vodka against his tongue is comforting, but doesn’t numb the disdain he feels for the other man. he watches him in silence, his fingers curled around an iced glass, a lifeless expression on his face ( never giving much away, other than a constant state of boredom ). another few minutes pass, and he finishes his drink. despite all the self control in the world ( no doubt dimmed by the effects of alcohol ), he seems to settle on what his sister might call “a bad idea”. amycus lunges off his chair and strolls up behind liam, his lips twisted into a smug smile. “mackenna!” he exclaims, and his grin widens, even though it’s fake. “you some sort of fucking fairy godmother now?” he asks, voice still, unemotional. he would much faster see his own grave than ask the mackennas for a favor, much less a wish. and he thinks that liam might know that already. he folds his arms across his chest and widens his stance, an unspoken threat lingering in ocean blue eyes. “sort of wishes you granting anyways?”
bruised fingers trace the leaves of a crimson red plant, and he looks up, meeting her gaze. lips curl with smugness at her friendly demeanor, and he takes a step back, hands digging into the pockets of his coat. “think i already found it,” he replies, lie falling easily from his tongue, deceit deeply ingrained in his bones, never far off from the surface. it’s an unnecessary lie — but it keeps his true intentions concealed. “ but, “ he continues, an eyebrow cocking, the smugness on his lips becoming more apparent. a small step is taken forward, and his stance becomes more imposing — intimidating. voice is lowered, now barely a whisper, more of a low grumble. “ get me your most expensive bouquet, “ he mutters, head tilting to the side.
Pandora offered the man a little smile as the man approached her. Something about him screamed of familiarity. Perhaps school? Perhaps he had visited the shop before. It didn’t matter either way. Whether friend or foe, Pandora served all that came through her shop. ❝A bouquet?❞ The petite blonde asked as she stood. ❝It must be a very special occasion. Birthday? Anniversary?❞ Folding a piece of tissue paper, she began waving her wand, pointing at elaborate, colorful flowers and plants, which levitated into the cone of paper. ❝May I ask your name, sir?❞
her questions leave a sour taste in his mouth, and his first instinct is to lie — not wanting to reveal too much ( always so paranoid ). he swallows, and narrows his eyes in suspicion. “that’s what i said,” he replies, impatience shining through in his low voice. the occasion is in amycus’ opinion, none of her goddamn business. so he ignores the question, and instead mutters something almost inaudible in reply. ‘something like that.” hands dig deeper into his pockets, and he watches her work in silence, his eyes focused on the flowers flying across the room. he refuses to meet her gaze. “it’s john,” he answers, voice chilly. lips coil into a half smirk, and he folds his arms across his chest, dull gaze darkening. “ but you won’t see me again, so you can call me whatever the hell you want. “ finally, something that’s actually true.
“ people got caught ” there is acid in her words but gentleness in her hands that search his body for any sign of damage. worry etched in the very touch of her fingertips against his skin as she turned his head first right, then left, to see if she had missed anything. if he was hurt, she would become lethal without any form of reprehension. “ and your heart is racing ” ignoring his question green orbs lock with his. a stern gaze with the care of a sister not able to survive without her brother. he was the only factor keeping her from becoming vicious and cold. the only thing tying her to any form of humanity. “ if you don’t get more CAREFUL you’re going to ruin everything ”
“ but i wasn’t, “ he counters, showing little regard for the fates of other death eaters, the survivalist in him baring its face. he shrugs, and casually removes his death eater robes, revealing a pair of black muggle trousers and a well worn t-shirt underneath ( always ready to disappear into the masses ). “so you know my heart now?” he asks, even though he knows damn well that their hearts are one and the same, and his sister will always be the keeper of his. he bites back a smile, and dries the blood from his hands. “it’s not mine. mostly,” he says, not blind to her concern, his features softening, storm blue eyes adopting a sense of calm. a deep sigh leaves his lips, and he reaches out, hands placed on her shoulders. “ i would never do anything to hurt you. i’m careful enough. “
Pandora sat in her shop, behind the counter, writing down her stock and some different herbs she would need to grow, order, and replenish. That was how she spent most of her time - growing what she sold and tending to the plants that filled shelves in her shop. Hearing leaves rustling, Pandora looked to see who had come in to cause the disturbance. Quill in hand, she offered the potential customer a friendly smile. ❝ Welcome! Can I help you find anything specific today? ❞ Ever since the war had begun ramping up, Pandora always kept a close eye on anyone who came in.
bruised fingers trace the leaves of a crimson red plant, and he looks up, meeting her gaze. lips curl with smugness at her friendly demeanor, and he takes a step back, hands digging into the pockets of his coat. “think i already found it,” he replies, lie falling easily from his tongue, deceit deeply ingrained in his bones, never far off from the surface. it’s an unnecessary lie — but it keeps his true intentions concealed. “ but, “ he continues, an eyebrow cocking, the smugness on his lips becoming more apparent. a small step is taken forward, and his stance becomes more imposing — intimidating. voice is lowered, now barely a whisper, more of a low grumble. “ get me your most expensive bouquet, “ he mutters, head tilting to the side.
“the only correlation between the affected was a small pub - there was something they all touched and led them to the outbursts.” his eyes didn’t leave amycus throughout the rundown of the case, his suspicion quite obvious. it was a way of saying he would not keep his back defenseless. “all six of them are still barely responsive, but they say they can’t remember when they started beating the shit out of others. just that it came as an urge and right after leaving the pub, and they weren’t drunk enough.” alastor walked into a small room with a table at the center, and in it a variety of glasses. “we believe one of these might be the reason. one of the affected being a bartender kinda sold us on it.” he hated this, the disdain so obvious on his face. working with others was already unpleasant but amycus carrow was an entirely another level.
@amycursed
wanting to beat the living shit out of people resonates with amycus on a deep level --- he feels that urge on a daily basis. like right now, for example. he gives alastor a long look, but doesn’t interrupt. at least he has the virtue of patience. arms are crossed in front of him, and he appears stern, face set in stone. “ creative, “ he finally mutters, and slips his hands into his standard issue pair of leather gloves ( enchanted to be durable against curses ). “ anyone die? “ he asks, voice sounding monotone, his eyes grey with boredom. he doesn’t give two fucks, but he has to ask, for the paperwork. a slight smirk appears on his lips as he weighs the glass in his hands, and he lets out a short chuckle, sounding stiff coming from his lips. “ is it just me, or are the death eaters getting smarter? “
"it wasn’t a big deal,” he mutters, but he looks a little embarrassed, ivory skin turning a soft shade of pink as blood rushes to his face. hands dig into the pockets of his death eater robes, and he leans against the wall, his feet crossed in front of him. he had only narrowly escaped being caught by aurors tonight ( his heart still beating a hundred miles per hour ), and it seems like he has had... a lot of misfortunes lately. maybe he’s losing his touch. or maybe the war is just getting so much more dangerous... he should get out while he can ( though the thing is, he goes wherever his sister goes. as long as she’s involved, he’ll be too ). cloudy eyes watch her intensely, a fleck of glitter appearing as his lips tug upwards into a smile. “were you worried?” he asks, and his smile becomes teasing, making him appear years younger, a remnant of the childhood they lost.
001. there is only one person in amycus’ life that he considers family --- his sister. the rest of the carrows are either IRRELEVANT, or have let him down. alecto has always been there ( the one constant ), and she is all that he needs.
002. the carrow twins were born into a respectable pureblood family. one of the sacred twenty eight. in the carrow household, IMAGE was everything --- the impression that they left on the world was deemed more important than the people in it. unfortunately, their mother did not fit into that image of the perfect pureblood family ( she was labelled WEAK by their father, and struggled with mental illness ). she suffered through years of abuse at the hands of her husband, before being LOCKED away, out of sight, out of mind. behind closed doors, the carrows were far from perfect.
003. his parents never had a happy marriage. it was arranged, and doomed from the start --- their father much too cold to please his wife, and their mother far too unstable to last his reign of terror. before marrying him, evelyn parkinson had been described as a PLEASANT girl. she rarely kept quiet, and her smile had men on their knees ---- in pureblood circles, she was considered to be an ‘attractive prospective wife’. but along came ivan carrow, and he was to become her undoing.
004. he was ambitious and cold, and a few years her senior. they’d produce two children ( twins ), but as her health deteriorated, he could no longer stand to look at her. his words became harsher ( more abusive ), and though he never raised a hand to his wife, he slowly chipped away at her soul.
005. and then there was victor carrow. amycus’ grandfather, and the true tyrant of the carrow household ---- he’d come to rule with an iron hand as he raised the twins ( ivan carrow was far too busy with work to bother with the children ). for amycus, this meant that all lessons were drilled in using pain and corporeal punishment. and whatever little warmth and humanity amycus had left, was slowly chipped away at too, and broke him down into something much colder and darker.
006. at the age of seventeen, he left home and never looked back. he’ll exchange tame pleasantries with family members at pureblood parties, but he no longer consider them to be his family. alecto is all he’ll ever need.
007. for his sister, he’d go to the ends of the world. she’s the only one that has that sort of hold on him ( usually, he’s DETACHED ... devoid of emotion, careful to not let anyone get too close ), but with alecto, he becomes slightly warmer. it has always been the carrow twins against the world.
Sybill had taken it upon herself to find a seat in the increasingly busying cafe, wanting to nick herself a seat before she’d be forced to stand in the corner alone. She looked odd enough with her BIG, BLUE eyes that peered over her mug and around the room, she didn’t need another reason to look suspicious. Not noticing she had crashed down at a table next to the other until they both sat and made a bit of weird eye contact, she spoke up. “ Oh I hope you don’t mind me sitting here. ”
Shifting a bit, she turned her cup in her hands, giving a gentle smile. “ Feeling a bit PEAKY today, so I thought I’d stop and get some tea with extra honey. Merlin knows there’s a nasty bug going around. ” She sipped at her tea, before realizing how rude she must have seemed for not asking the other about themselves. “ What about you ? What brings you here ? ”
he lets out a grunt and quickly slips the paper he had been skimming through under his copy of the daily prophet, hiding it from prying eyes. he doesn’t answer her right away, and instead settles into a glare, blue gaze closely resembling ice. at some point, he’ll have to learn that he can’t continuously go outside, in hopes of enjoying his morning coffee, and expect to be left undisturbed --- there’s always some loon that thinks that he’ll be good at making conversation. he’s not. a fake smile is forced onto his lips, but his stare remains chilly. “it’s still a free town,” he responds dryly. he tries to look interested ( he has been told at work that he should work on his people skills. this lady will do as practice ), and nods unenthusiastically, boredom seeping into his smile. “ what does it look like i’m doing ? “ he asks, and motions with his thumb towards the coffee cup in front of him.
his nose wrinkles somewhat as he turns his face a little away from the smoke. it’s like he knew– amycus knew just what it did to his head.
i told you i don’t trust that guy as far as i can throw him. and that isn’t very far.
yeah, you don’t have to tell me twice. and you’ve told me, what was it, fifteen times already?
eighteen.
right.
“well, i’m not here to make any promises. i’m just a messenger. you want guarantees, you’re going to have to go and talk to her, directly, yourself.”
puff of smoke leaves his lips, and he rests the cigarette between his fingers, a half smirk tugging at his lips as he notices the man’s disgust. "i’m not here to make any deals.... unless you and me can come to an agreement,” he mutters in reply, voice low, a brooding look passing over his face. “ messenger, huh? so pass her a fucking message for me, then. no deal, unless i get it in writing. “
glassy gaze stares at the man with a blank expression. “ --- i’ll need a little more than a half assed promise,” he says, lighting another cigarette and taking a long blow, inhaling the smoke.
Amycus works as a curse breaker, mostly for the ministry of magic, but he has also done a few jobs for Gringotts. His job at the ministry mostly entails removing and countering particularly nasty hexes, jinxes and curses from objects (and sometimes people). For the latter, he is sometimes called into St Mungos.
He works at the office for the removal of curses, jinxes and hexes, which is a subdivision of the improper use of magic office, and thus located on the same floor (Level 2). The Cursebreakers’ office is tucked away behind the improper use of magic office, and is smaller in size. It consists of a larger locked room ( in which cursed objects are kept ). In the room next to it, objects that are no longer cursed but still considered property of the ministry are kept ( and it’s way too easy for someone like Amycus to nick stuff from there ). Behind yet another locked door, the offices of the cursebreakers are kept. They are a private bunch that value security.
Amycus has his own office (mostly due to his old money + family name). He doesn’t spend a lot of time in there though, since most of his workdays are spent outside the ministry or in the cursed objects room.
His office is sparsely decorated, and doesn’t have anything to tie it to him. The walls are a dull shade of grey, and the floors are wood. Stock images of smiling wizards hang on the walls ( came with the office, Amycus just never removed them ). Withered plants are placed in the rather large windows ( he has two ), and a ridiculously large cactus is standing in one of the room’s corners.
The room only has one chair ( standing behind his steel desk ), and the general aura of the office is that it’s not inviting. He doesn’t want visitors.
Amycus hates paperwork, and is notorious for being very bad at it. His handwriting is illegible (on purpose), and he writes the bare minimum that is required for a report. He also doesn’t have any filing cabinets in his office, and instead keeps all papers in the general area outside, where some bookshelves stand.
Amycus prefers working at the ministry compared to working for Gringotts. While working for Gringotts was nice because he didn’t have to interact too much with other wizards, he also couldn’t get away with having sticky fingers. Goblins do not tolerate missing treasures. Wizards on the other hand, rarely notice.
However, Amycus is reluctant to working with other departments at the ministry, and it’s a... major part of his job. He works regularly with the auror office, the misuse of muggle artefacts office (my boys working together!!!), the improper use of magic office and also st mungos’ hospital. He’s not a fan.
He became a cursebreaker at the age of nineteen, and the first few years were spent working for Gringotts ( which he enjoyed ).
When working for Gringotts, a lot of his tasks entailed travelling abroad to ancient tombs and historical sites, and bringing back treasures to the bank. He has spent time in Egypt, Russia, Brazil, the United States, China, Mexico and Peru to name a few.
Became a cursebreaker because 1. curses are kind of what he does best 2. when he was nineteen, he really wanted to get far away from his grandfather + parents and becoming a cursebreaker seemed like the best way to ensure that happening.
Because there are always curses needing to be broken, he works a lot of weird hours.
the definition of “innocent” was up to interpretation when it came to rita, but she swore that she was in knockturn alley near dusk for purely innocent purposes. she had been tailing someone for an article inconspicuously when she lost track of them and decided to go window shopping instead. rita sauntered over to the nearest store where many dark, yet subjectively beautiful, artifacts faced the path. to her left someone was looking inside the window at the objects on display and she couldn’t help but have some fun with them. leaning up against the window next to them, she drawled, “shopping for a loved one?”
stern gaze wanders from the store window to the approaching woman, and he gives her a long stare. “ do i look like the type of guy to buy expensive gifts for... a loved one?” he answers, weighing his words carefully. amycus is a private guy, and considers it a cardinal sin to reveal too much about ANYTHING --- so he’s doing his best to stay elusive. lips curl into a small smirk, and he gives her a look over. “ you lost? “ he asks. “doesn’t look like your part of town.”
“ ’m afraid not much tends to please her, ” bellatrix was a very particular woman but despite how it may seem to many that were given the privilege to know the pair well enough he could not ask for anyone better to be by his side. “ i suppose that is fortunate for her, ” there wasn’t much to say there. they had their orders and followed them, there was not much else to say unless of course they failed to get any information. little was better than nothing he supposed. clicking the lighter back shut he held it tight in his grasp rodolphus nodded at the remark. “ she and bella should trade notes. ” he wouldn’t be surprised if they had already, it seemed far too fitting. “ trust me, ’m not losing any sleep. ”
" sounds like you might have some marital problems, “ he mutters, a short chuckle leaving his lips. he leaves it at that, though amycus knows bellatrix lestrange well enough to realize that she’s a whole different brand of crazy - so he suspects that their issues lie there. fortunately, he’s smart enough to understand that pointing that out might not end so well, so he instead gives rodolphus an amused look. " wouldn’t know. i keep my distance from your wife and her... crew, “ he mutters, though that’s not quite the truth --- the carrow twins share everything with each other, so he’s AWARE of her ties to his sister.
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