COLD TO TOUCH

HE FRENCH AND GERMAN VERSIONS [OF THE FAIRYTALE ‘GODFATHER DEATH’] HAVE EXACTLY THE SAME STRUCTURE: A) A POOR MAN CHOOSES DEATH AS A GODFATHER FOR HIS SON. B) DEATH MAKES THE SON PROSPER AS A DOCTOR. C) THE SON TRIES TO CHEAT DEATH AND DIES. IN BOTH VERSIONS THE FATHER REFUSES TO ACCEPT GOD AS GODFATHER BECAUSE HE OBSERVES THAT GOD FAVORS THE RICH AND POWERFUL, WHEREAS DEATH TREATS EVERYONE EQUALLY Antonin Dolohov

[antonindolchov]

 sweetpoiscn‌:

He said he understood, but how could he really? There was only one other person who could understand what Peony Carrow had put her through, but her brother had been more distant than usual lately–another form of isolation that Alecto didn’t want to focus on. Instead she stared intently at Antonin, eyes flickering across his face looking for any indication that he was about to leave, that her particular brand of crazy was too much for even a brutal man such as himself. Instead of that, Alecto merely found curiosity, intrigue, maybe slight confusion, but all of that was something she could work with. She was beginning to realize that, much like her brother, Antonin spoke more with his actions rather than words, though why he held himself back from asking questions was beyond her. What was the point of thought if you didn’t use it to advance learning? 

She wasn’t sure she would have told him why, at any rate. Perhaps one day, if–or when–she felt they were on that level. The only one that had reached that level was Bellatrix, and even that had taken a while. Curious. 

But there was a question, and Alecto’s lips quirked up in the smallest of smiles. He was finally asking, examining, and she glanced back at the thrashing woman on the bed as she thought on how long it had been since she’d first started her experiments. “A few years, I suppose,” she said, chewing on her bottom lip. Only a fraction of what the sorry excuse of a woman had put her through. “If I get lucky and she doesn’t give out from old age or the torture, there will be many more years to come from this. She reacts so well to my concoctions, after all.”

He opened his mouth again, and Alecto listened intently to every word. It wasn’t often she found someone who might have thoughts on how to improve her experiments, not while completely aware of the situation at least, and the moment Antonin mentioned adrenaline Alecto wanted to smack herself. Of course. How could she not account for that? It was the body’s natural defense against pain, and her mother had connected the green cup to poison after the third week of tests. Pathetic that she’d held out hope for that long. She scribbled a few notes into her notebook and actually smiled, small as it was, in the throes of a true mad scientist. “I can’t believe I didn’t take that into account. Stupid of me, that won’t happen again. With a few switched variables, I could probably counteract that… or maybe keep adrenaline from pumping in the first place…” 

She paused when Antonin complimented her work, not used to anyone doing so. She simply provided what was needed because it was her job and pleasure. Her mind went back to earlier in the night, to their discussion of recognition, and perhaps Alecto had looked at that wrong. Maybe. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she said after a moment, closing her notebook and grabbing the mug. “Come with me, and I can show you my true work station. Perhaps you can offer more insight I hadn’t thought of.”

Antonin noted the quirk upward at the question.

       Slowly, recognizing that it might be all right to ask questions after all. He was so used to trending careful water with the likes of Lestrange and Malfoy that it felt unnatural to seize the freedom. There were some English customs that he had not grasped the way he should have. Or simple mistakes he’d made because he didn’t grow up with that sort of privilege. Coming over from Belarus had not been an easy transition, and he had worked hard to get where he was. Brutally had been one of his biggest selling points, but it was also his nature to keep people just enough on edge about him. Which is why he was a man of few words and many actions. Words could be twisted and misinterpreted. Actions very often could not. 

         Years. Antonin was surprised that she had made it through a few months much less a few years. The balance that Alecto crafted had to be a delicate one. He looked down at the woman with renewed fascination. As grizzly as her appearance was already, he was sure it would continue to deteriorate over time.After a moment of consideration he looked back up again, a slight grin on his features. It was not often where he meet someone who felt as twisted as he did, and even when he had their feats were never this miraculous. “I imagine you’ll make it to that mark. She seems to be subsisting well.” He remarked. Both of them seemed to be speaking as if the woman on the bed couldn’t hear them at all. He was sure it was unsettling for the woman. 

       Something crossed her features that he hadn’t seen before. He couldn’t tell what it was exactly. Antonin wanted to venture to say that it was something akin to excitement. He found a sense of accomplishment in that small notion. There was no way that he believed he was equipped to help in this area. Especially since it seemed like something she had mulled over for months, perhaps longer. When it came to a revenge like this the rules were different. Time could pass and the wound would remain fresh, as if it had happened the day before. To get to the point to be able to enact those grand plans was rare, and Alecto had taken advantage of every opportunity with it. 

       He watched as the gears seemed to turn in her mind. “Suppressing adrenaline might have wider implications than even this incident.” Antonin muttered, before looking over at her. “It would be useful in other instances of torture and knowledge extraction. If it was isolated that is.” He remarked, remembering instances where he was torturing someone and it seemed to him as if they could no longer feel the pain he inflicted. The human body was wondrous in the way it worked, but to degrade those processes was far more intriguing to him. 

        Alecto seemed to take the compliment better than he anticipated and he nodded. “Lead the way,” He said lightly. The further he stepped away from the room the more the ropes loosened around the woman until they weren’t there at all.

[swiftsnowmane]

I could keep you safe,” he rasped. “They’re all afraid of me. No one would hurt you again, or I’d kill them.

Sandor Clegane to Sansa Stark, A Clash of Kings by George R.R. Martin.  (via swiftsnowmane)

[antonindolchov]

sweetpoiscn‌:

Not fatal. Alecto fought from laughing again.

Her mother would deserve to have a fatal concoction, wouldn’t she? Years of torment under the hands of the one person who was supposed to care for herself and Amycus, who was supposed to love them for more than what they could do for her. Alecto would be lying if she said she never thought about pulling the plug, as it were. How easy it would be in her mother’s frail state to simply grab her most venomous mixture and force the entire bottle down her throat, to listen to her wails and pained screams as she flailed against the bed and meekly fought against her inevitable demise. It would be so easy, and if she had her way, it would take a long while before she’d finally die.

But no, she deserved at least another year or two under her ‘care’ before Alecto finally let her bite the bullet. Peony Carrow wouldn’t get away from her own personal hell so easily.

“They could all be fatal, with the correct dosage,” she replied, raising an eyebrow at Antonin. “She won’t get that pleasure, though. Not for a while yet. There’s use being a healer at St. Mungo’s, after all.”

Her lips twitched up in amusement as Antonin watched his cup carefully, making sure he wasn’t given the poisoned one, and perhaps he was more perceptive than she’d thought. They’d come to her home so she could show off her poisons–why not show them in action? At least, she noted when they were in the master bedroom, Antonin listened to instructions well. The spell he used was a nice touch as it restrained her mother and pried her jaw open, all while letting him not touch the skeletal woman at all. It wasn’t often Alecto was impressed, but she certainly approved. Maybe she could restrain the woman more, prevent her from dealing with her pain properly, but that was neither here nor there. For now, she had tea to serve.

“Now you simply watch,” she said before pouring the scalding liquid down her mother’s throat, relishing in the way she choked on it until she was forced to swallow or risk drowning. 

It wasn’t long for the poison to take affect, and once it did her mother began flailing on the bed as best as she could against her restraints, her scream loud and unyielding. Alecto was unperturbed by the sound, simply stepping back from the edge of the bed and grabbing a notebook to write down the reactions. She was only briefly hesitant in using her one muggle indulgence–a simple inkwell pen–but scribbled away anyway, noting every detail she saw regarding her mother’s reactions to the mixture. Her eyes flickered to Antonin, and she looked up to meet his eyes.

“My goal here,” she began. “is to create a mixture that mimics the affects of the Cruciatus Curse exactly. It would allow a constant stream of torture rather than a curse dependent on the caster, though the only downside would be the inability to stop it long enough to get answers. Frankly, though, I suspect anyone who used this concoction isn’t in the business of interrogation rather than pure torture.” She glanced back at her bother and cast silencio, allowing her to think better. “It’s a bit weaker than I’d like at the moment, but I believe I’m almost there. Perhaps more deathroot would suffice.”

What had the woman done?

        Antonin was far more interested in the punishment than the crime, but it didn’t cease the question from lingering. He had never exhibited the concentrated effort that he watched Alecto administer now. People had wronged him, and they had reaped the horrors that they sewed, but there was a personal touch to this that Antonin had never mimicked. He liked the disposable targets because he knew that there would always be new ones to pick off. This was different. The preservation of the gaunt woman that lay before him was a new level he personally had never unearthed. What contempt the woman must have garnered during her time. He trusted that the punishment fit the crime, whatever that may be, and thus was happy to be complicit in it. 

        There was a menace in the actions that was intriguing to him. “I understand.” He said lightly, unsure if he wanted to broach the subject further. Antonin rubbed the back of his neck in thought. No matter his thoughts actually pursuing more questions, he was most grateful that he had abandoned his own party. So many skilled Death Eaters were in his home and they didn’t have a sliver of fascination that this brought to him. “How long have you been -” There wasn’t the proper wording. Testing ? Torturing ? “ - maximizing the pain felt through your tests?” Was what Antonin he settled upon, it felt neutral enough but it allowed him to inquire about the issue further. 

        He nodded at the St. Mungo’s sentiment. It made sense that she used her ability for her own gain as well as her job. It had a duel pronged purpose and from what he had seen it was more than effective. There had only been a tenth of the cruelty in his actions than what he feated his eyes on now. What a way to innovate with the tools you had. Antonin was stony as the scalding liquid touched the woman’s mouth. Oh, the noises that she tried to make her beautifully drowned out. It was a cacophony of choking and an attempt to break his restraints. He might be slightly out of practice with this particular charm but he was not idle about it. Active thought allowed for the restraints on her hands to tighten, resisting her movements even further. Antonin was careful not to do any permanent damage. Now that he understood Alecto’s intention he wanted to follow them. 

        Antonin’s gaze went from the thrashing woman to Alecto’s face. She was unbothered by the sound. He might have tried to silence the woman on the bed otherwise. Personally, it was the look of pain across her features that he enjoyed more than the sound. The muggle pen flew across the pages with detailed notes he imagined. There had been such a vendetta that he had felt between the two women that he had nearly forgotten that it was an observed experiment. He imagined that this was not a singular experiment, but was perhaps frequent in the household itself. 

       “What a noble pursuit.” He commented. “I think you’re correct about the torture portion of it all. Unless there’s a way that the effects of the liquid would come in waves instead of full force, but even then it seems unlikely that those moments of reprieve would yield useful information.” Antonin was musing aloud now, looking down at the now silent woman. He nodded along with the suggestion for Deathroot, eyebrows furrowing in deep thought. “Are you accounting for her adrenaline?” He asked, his tone even as to not indicate something other than pure curiosity. “I would assume this is not the first test due to the reaction to the cup, so her adrenaline is already working in a way that another subject -- if not being tortured first -- would not have.” 

        Antonin shrugged, looking back up at her. “This certainly is not my specialty, but it could be a thought. It does tend to dull pain in other instances.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, looking down at the woman again before back up at Alecto. “In either case, it was a remarkable show.” He knew that she probably wasn’t looking for approval, but his sentiments were true. Not meant for flattery. 

[antonindolchov]

sweetpoiscn‌:

Alecto pulled out another cup for Antonin at his word, then a third for herself because why not? There was no possibility of mistaking her special brew for one of their own; she had picked out a sickly green mug, often associated with poison, just for her mother to drink out of. She found the whole ordeal amusing, even if the mug color was a bit on the nose, and when Antonin asked if she was sick Alecto didn’t bother stopping her (slightly manic) laugh. Yes, the woman was sick–sick in the head, among other things. What kind of woman purposefully put her children through immense pain and trauma for the simple want of attention? Who in their right mind did that?

Peony Carrow. That was who. 

“In a way,” she responded when her laughter died down, the kettle screaming a second later and interrupting her thoughts. She took a moment to pour both of them a cup and then turned to the third one, pouring it about three-fourths of the way full and setting the kettle aside. The vials she hadn’t used yet were uncorked, and she poured one by one until the mug was generally full. “I’ve brewed a… special concoction for mother dearest,” she explained, handing Antonin his cup and sipping at her own. “I want to see if my experimental poisons work as I’d intended, and who better to test on than her? This one is a mixture of several poisons I already know work as planned, so I’m curious as to how they’d react to one another.” Alecto drained half her cup after her explanation, ignoring the heat of the tea as it coursed down her throat, and picked up the green mug. “Follow me, this will only take a moment.”

She turned heel and walked up the worn wooden steps of her home, avoiding the squeaky spots of the steps easily until she got to the top. The master bedroom was to the left, the door left ajar, and she opened the door fully to let herself and Antonin in. The room was dark like the rest of the home save for two windows on either side of the bed, curtains pulled back to let in thin streams of light. The room was dusty, clothes and scraps of who-knew-what littering the floor because Alecto couldn’t be assed to clean up after her mother. Another groan emitted from the bed, and Alecto’s lips twitched up.

There, on the center of the bed, lay Peony Carrow, her once beautiful frame now skeletal from undernourishment and the general torture she put her through. Her brown hair, which once matched Alecto’s, was thin rather than full and falling out, left behind on her pillow and serving as an extra cushion for her gaunt cheeks to rest upon. She was shaking her head once she saw the mug, and Alecto rolled her eyes, walking to the side of the bed and tutting.

“Alecto, darling,” her mother said, and Alecto’s previously amused face sharpened, glaring at her mother so she shut up.

“Now mother, we must behave. We have a guest.” Alecto looked to Antonin and motioned for him to walk closer. “If you’d be so kind, Mr. Dolohov, I’d like you to hold her mouth open. Mother never drinks her tea fully without assistance, and she needs to drink every. Last. Drop.”

Antonin is struck by the laughter. 

       Not because he’s concerned for the dear woman upstairs, he’s not that kind. However the laugh feels almost oddly vindicated, but Antonin could not place why. It did not appear to him that Alecto seemed to do much of anything without reason. The actions might be outside of the norm, but they didn’t appear to be erratic. Not that the distinction was important to him. Something that he had picked up on in their brief conversation. If being a Death Eater were a game they seemed to be playing it the same way. Despite that he watched the cups carefully. He caught onto the green one, watching it intently to be sure it didn’t end up in his hand. Antonin had an inkling that the liquid from the vitals was not just for taste, but something more sinister. 

        The screaming of the kettle broke him from his own thoughts. His gaze wandered from the cups. Antonin had his own vices, but they were a lot more solitary in their execution. They didn’t require a ton of testing, it was nothing he wanted to perfect. If a spell didn’t work the way he intended it generally didn’t have the same consequences because he was already doing it under illicit circumstances. It was just another casualty. Nothing too concerning. He thought that there might be a method as to why the poisons had to be tested first. “A special concoction.” He said softly, nearly chuckling at the thought. “If you want to keep the test subject, I would assume that these aren’t - uh - fatal.” It was sort of a question as he looked up at her, as he took his own cup. He took a sip before nodding and setting it onto the counter. 

        Antonin followed her up the stairs, but with a lot less of the grace she seemed to have. He did not have the affinity for watching for the squeaky parts of the stairs, but he followed nevertheless. Antonin noted that the door was to the left as they entered the master bedroom. He let his eyes adjust to the lighting in here, noting the objects that littered the floor. Probably no house elves, he mused to himself, although it was not nearly as compelling as the groan that came from the bed. Ghastly was an understatement for the appearance of the woman -- if you could still call her that. She was more skeletal than actual human. He had to imagine she was quite wicked to end up with such an unique treatment. 

       He nearly recoiled at the voice, not visibly so, but internally. She had seemed inhuman that he thought vocal quality was now beyond her. It was intriguing how humans seemed to cling so tightly to life despite the odds. The immediate shaking of the head when the cup nearer signaled that this was a reoccurring trend. At Alecto’s word he nodded, looking over at the woman in the bed. Antonin looked up at her request. “Of course.” He replied, although he was not inclined the actually touch the woman. Instead ropes began to form both around the woman’s writs, curling, and around the crown of her head. They applied enough pressure that it the top of her head was leaned back. He constructed another one for her jaw, compelling it downward so it was open. 

       Antonin looked over at Alecto, as if to ask if it was to her liking. It was non-traditional of course, but non-verbal magic was his absolute favorite Well, one of his favorites. . Might as well use the situation to utilize his skills. It was nice because people didn’t see it coming, not even a second before. A cruel sort of smile was working its way onto his features, delighted to see how this was going to play out. “Anything else?” He asked.

[zuqos-deactivated20170411]

‘Cool’ is detached and emotionally cool. My instinct is to battle anything that seems overly cool.

[antonindolchov]

gillockhart‌:

          Well, wasn’t he just a bear of a man? All gruff edges and snarling words, lumbering around like he’d much rather be hibernating for the winter. Dolohov’s obvious displeasure was amusing, in it’s own way, this all felt much like playing a game of poke the bear and hoping to not get mauled. “Of course I am,” he echoed, thoroughly amused as he picked apart the nuances of that harsh accent, like pulling threads until he found the right one.

          The right one didn’t seem to make the bear any more pleased, either. Interesting.

         “Беларусь - вельмі прыгожая краіна,” he offered after a moment, nose wrinkling faintly at the stiffness on his tongue. Russian and its sister languages were such unpleasant sounding languages. “It’s been years since I was there, I’m afraid my pronunciation has gotten rusty. I quite liked Minsk.” Gilderoy’s eyes darted, interested, towards Dolohov as if to determine whether this had worsened the man’s mood or bettered it. Mysterious pasts were the hallmark of a good story, after all.

“так.”

        It was jarring to hear his own language spoken to him. Much of his transition into British society was removing any parts of him that seemed foreign, which included the language. In a sense all of those parts of him had died with his Grandmother. He had no wishes to resurrect them in the middle of broad daylight with this stranger. Such an invasive man, who was skilled at picking the thing that would tip Antonin over the edge. He gave an affirmative nod to the man, hands buried into his pockets. 

       The man was so persistent it was annoying. Antonin frowned. “Minsk is nice, close to the water.” It was a city district though, filled with politics and the bustle of people who could care less. He continued walking, he would have to respond more than that before he got to Borgin and Burkes. “Brest is my personal favorite. It’s got the best food and architecture. If you were to go back there that’s where I would suggest you visit.” That was the nearest kindness that Antonin was willing to approach. 

[antonindolchov]

improper-dolores‌:

WHO: Open WHERE: Magical Menagerie

Dolores’s nose wrinkled in distaste. The smell of the Menagerie was not one that she could ever get used to. Even as a young girl, she had turned her nose up at the establishment. Its host of weird creatures something that she was never particularly interested in. Her brother, Aldous, had always been much more enchanted with the magical animals that inhabited its walls. She remembered it was a favorite place of his and her mother’s. Dolores’s eye twitched, not mother, Ellen.

It took a few moments of wandering around the shop to find the tiny Persian longhair, the reason for her visit today. An underling had told her about them. Sequestered in what could be considered the cat corner of the shop, the tiny animal stretched its legs upon Dolores’s inspection. The cat gazed up at her with wides eyes for a moment before turning away. Its round, pinched face giving no indication that it particularly cared about her presence.

Despite her distaste for most living things, Dolores had always held a special affinity for cats. Unlike dogs, she tried not to cringe at the very thought of them and how dirty they were, you had to work to gain their love. They just didn’t give their trust and affections away for free. Clever animals, her father had always hated them.

“What a lovely lady.” she remarked though her voice didn’t betray any note of excitement. Dolores’s head snapped towards who she thought must be the shopkeeper, “I assume you know her price. I’ll take her.”

“I don’t work here.”

        Antonin’s tone was even as he looked over at the woman. Wondering how on Earth she confused a man in nearly a fully suit to be someone who would work among these creatures. He extended a kind chin scratch to the tabby nearest his hand. He would maybe spend a few minutes more in the shoppe, but as a job? Just the thought alone made him want to recoil in disgust. Antonin was content with his Ministry job where it was quite certain he would never have to speak to demanding customers such as this.  Instead he would slip in and out of his duties, never having to explain himself. 

        His eyes caught onto a tag on the front left paw of the particular kitten she was talking about. “I says fourteen galleons.” Antonin remarked, looking over at her. It seemed to him to be a high price for such a dependent creature. Although who was he to judge, there was a reason why he didn’t have a pet of his own. Not that he hadn’t tried before. Growing up his family had raised dogs, but no matter the species Antonin found the need that came from the pet to be undesirable. Then there was the issue of scratching that came from owning a pet, and he found he liked his furniture more than the company. 

        Antonin abandoned the cat he had been petting, much to their dismay. It laid down and began licking its paws, eyes narrowed in judgement. “I think that’s high for a cat. What about that one ? ” He pointed somewhat lazily to a cat across the room. It looked to him to be isolated from the rest of the batch and it was a smokey grey, almost black, with bright green eyes. “This one looks like it might be a pain, whereas I think that one has potential.” He shrugged slightly, the suggestion being just that. It wasn’t as if he were emotionally invested in this decision. 

[antonindolchov]

viciouslestrange‌:

Antonin was the only one that had not pressed Bellatrix for more information on Puddletown and precisely what had happened to Rodolphus that night. The rumours had begun to fly quickly about his illness, and pure-bloods did as pure-bloods will - gossip incessantly about things they knew only half the story of. Since then, she had been pressed on all sides for more information that she was unwilling to give. Bellatrix was almost grateful that Antonin seemed to merely accept her silence and move on, instead of prying. She could chalk it up to merely being his personality, or perhaps something else - but in the end, the motivation behind it hardly mattered at all. All that mattered was that the business was behind them, and they could move on to the real fun.

Bellatrix apparated them to just outside Bletchley’s house, unlooping her arm from his as she reached for her wand. “Let the fun begin,” Bellatrix murmured, her eyes darkening in anticipation. Flicking her wand towards her feet, she cast ‘quietus’ before doing the same to Antonin. She undid the gate, stepping up towards the front door which she again opened quietly. The more off guard Bletchley was, the less time he would have to run. Run he would, given half a moment’s notice, for he was a coward.

Those lower amongst their ranks were. They didn’t have the stomach for what the work truly entailed, and Bellatrix knew that some had joined merely out of fear - assuming it would protect them when Voldemort won. It sickened her. Bletchley was one of them. He was sat unawares in his living room, and Bellatrix smirked as she crept forward. “Expelliarmus,” she cast, catching his wand deftly as he scrambled out of his chair. She snapped it easily, tossing the two halves back towards him. “I assume you know why we’re here, Bletchley,” Bellatrix’s smile was wicked, sadistic as she drank in his fear.

“Antonin, would you like to take the first shot?”

Apparation was always unpleasant. 

        It was a necessary evil that Antonin understood had to be used due to how effective it was. That didn’t mean that he had to enjoy the feeling of actually doing the thing itself. “Let it.” He replied, a cheshire grin back onto his features. The cruel curve of his lips upward, and the glint in his eye. He was patched together with bad intentions, and at this very moment was leaking from the seams. He noted that Bellatrix seemed just as hungry for Bletchley’s punishment as he did. At least when things went wrong they got to have some fun out of it.

       There were few people amongst the Death Eaters that Antonin felt he could be himself around. Let himself crack the mask that he performatively wore for the world to see. He realized that Bellatrix had quieted them both and he followed her lead up to the home. As he crossed the threshold of the front he realized how invasive it must feel to the man. To be attacked in your own home without any warning. How terrifying that must be. Although if he had been truly worried about it perhaps the perimeter of his house would have stronger charms on it. Instead the man was not just a coward, but a sad excuse for a wizard too. Antonin watched as the fear registered on the other’s face. The Dark Lord did not send Antonin and Bellatrix when he wanted something done kindly. 

       With a flick of his wand ropes sprung from the chair and brought the man back to a sitting position. They were tied tight and he wouldn’t be going anywhere. Antonin knew Bletchley was useless with a wand, so without one he would be as helpless as a muggle. “No, after you Bellatrix. I’m content to hold him still for you for the time being.” He mused, the smile ever present on his face. “We do have a lesson to teach.”

[antonindolchov]

nvrcissasm‌:

WHO: Narcissa & OPEN WHERE: Twilfitt and Tattings 

It had been quite some time since Narcissa had last taken a trip in to Diagon Alley. Forever finding something to keep herself occupied with, she’d had no need to take to the busy streets, until today that was. 

Among other things that need to be collected, a visit to Twilfitt and Tattings was in order for the blonde so she could pick up a number of garments that she’d requested be made by their lead seamstress. It was forever a busy little shop, of course, so upon arrival, Narcissa found herself being asked to wait in the small seated area to the side of the shops entrance to allow time for the young assistant to gather her items together. 

With no hurry to be anywhere else, Narcissa happily obliged, (the wait was always worth it after all, never once had she been disappointed with their clothes) picking up a random book from the small stack that had been left in the waiting area as she took a seat. Flicking through the pages idly, it wasn’t long before she heard the door to the shop opening once more, and gaze lifting, she glanced across to see if she recognised the person entering. 

He needed a new suit. 

        Well to be more specific he wanted a new suit. The other ones paled in comparison with the ones that he had seen in the window walking past. So Antonin had made an appointment and was measured to get the particular suit he wanted. It was an olive green and was supposed to be ready for pick up today. He walked briskly down Diagon Alley, taking a deep inhale of the cool autumn air. It was his favorite him of year. Perhaps because people were inclined to scurry to their warm homes and he didn’t have to be bothered with the sounds of children. Or the fact that everything was in a state of decay, of change. 

       Antonin smiled toward himself as he opened up the door, the bell ringing above his head. As he took a step in he looked over to the seating area, with the volume of people in the store it would make sense that he would have to wait a moment or two. A charming smile made its way onto his lips as he looked up Narcissa. Not his favorite Black sister, but she would made good company to bide his time. He went over to approach her, having made eye contact. 

        “Narcissa, how are you this fine day?” He kept his tone pleasant, although small talk was probably one of his least favorite attributes of conversation. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in quite some time.”

[antonindolchov]

ludcvic-bagman‌:

Ludovic didn’t spend a lot of his time hanging around dodgy places such as Knockturn Alley, but he did have to admit they had the best barber shop around. He would go once a week to get his facial hair removed, and once a month for a hair cut. Today was a hair cut day, and he felt slightly more confident than usual, something he never thought to be possible until he saw his own reflection after a fresh cut.

He exited the barber, stopping in front of the dark window to admire his reflection for a few more moments before heading back to Diagon Alley for a drink. People seemed to be passing by him in all directions, quite unusual for Knockturn Alley, but he didn’t think much of it. A man approached Ludo, muttering an ‘excuse me,’ he only wanted to stare at himself for another moment so he simply flashed the man a quick and charming smile before looking himself over one last time.

But the man became impatient, a quality in people Ludovic despised. Rolling his eyes slightly and turning back to the man, he put his charming smile back on before saying, “If you’re in such a hurry, why don’t you just apparate to where you need to go? It’s not like the shops are going anywhere. But by all means, sir, please, go on ahead if you’re in such a rush, I’ll find another window to practice my smile in.” Ludo gestured in the direction the man was headed as he took a step back to let him by.

Antonin watched as he stepped aside. 

         See, it had been that easy all along. Which is why it had been particularly infuriating to see that sort of resistance stem from people. If you had the ability to enact a normal human function and refused, it seemed to Antonin that whatever demeanor you were given afterward was of your own doing. “Why don’t you invest in a mirror.” He quipped. The windows weren’t there so that you could practice a smile or fix a stray hair. They were meant to be treated as venues to display new objects that a particular shop had on sale. Antonin was a firm believer that things ought to be used for their intended purposes, especially in public spaces. 

         “Thank you.” He replied, face stoney as he went to walk past the man. He could just imagine the object waiting for him at Borgin and Burkes. “Maybe next time you’ll be more aware of the people around you.” Antonin said, continuing on his path forward. 

[antonindolchov]

sweetpoiscn‌:

Alecto’s eyebrows raised when Antonin gave his response, but understanding passed over her face a moment later, followed by appreciation. Without mercy. As if anyone deserved mercy in the world, she mused. No one in this world was free from guilt–they were all sinners on earth. Money just happened to be the executioner in most instances. She nodded and watched him search her face before responding, “I like how you think, Mr. Dolohov.”

She couldn’t say she was surprised at the press of his lips, the meaning behind the words that his tone didn’t show. He knew what he wanted, and far be it from Alecto to push a man who was like that. A fault of hers, she was coming to notice, was the tendency of managing to push people’s buttons, whether deliberately or otherwise. Antonin was someone she wanted on her side, not against her, so she nodded. “I appreciate that,” she said, not offering much more. 

I would be interested in that. Oh, she had just the thing to help him, but not in the middle of a fancy dinner party. Alecto relished the surprise that briefly crossed his face before he fell in line with her game, and she took his hand with a wider smirk to match her tone. “You would most certainly be a fool. Come, I’m certain they won’t burn the house down in your wake.” With that she took them from the relatively nice surroundings of Antonin’s home and to the drab exterior of the Carrow estate. Alecto’s body language relaxed instantly, the sickly sweet smile she donned for the few parties she did attend lessening to one that was more natural, though with the same assurance. She opened the door and led Antonin inside, trusting he would know to shut the door behind him.

The interior wasn’t much better than the exterior of the home. With no house elves to clean the place like most pureblood families had, the duty fell to herself and Amycus, though neither twin found they had the time to bother. It was dark, though a flick of her wand lit the hall and kitchen, and she sighed softly when she heard a pained moan from upstairs. Typical. Alecto looked to Antonin, annoyance at the source of the noise still showing even as she gave him a small smile and said, “Tea? I just need to bring mother dearest a cup before I can show you my work station.”

Without waiting for a reply she set to work, setting the kettle on the stove to boil and pulling out several half-empty vials from the cupboard, taking the time to put a few of them into one of the empty cups and leaving the rest for after the tea was ready.

“ Same to you Ms. Carrow. ”

         Which was more true by the moment. It was uncommon that he felt such a kinship of thought with anyway. Nor had he expected such vivid conversation to come out of such a stale party. Antonin chuckled at the thought of the partygoers being so unfortunately situated that they were accidentally burn down his home. It was unthinkable. So quickly the surrounding that he had grown to call home disappeared and were replaced by the image of the Carrow home. He noticed a shift in Alecto, as if the weight of the party had promptly removed itself from her shoulders. In a way the same happened with him. No longer concerned with the thoughts of others he was unhindered. Antonin stepped through the threshold of the home, reaching to pull the door closed behind him. 

        Curious eyes took in the interior of the house. It was different than his own, to his untrained eyes it felt more established in some ways. As if the building had been around longer than his own. He watched as the house and hallways began to illuminate. It was dustier then his own, that was a singular downside he had found thus far. With the emergence of the light came a sound from the upper lever. Antonin worked hard to maintain a straight expression, although he was terribly curious as to what it could be. He met Alecto’s gaze with a slight nod. “Please do.” He said lightly. There was another pang of curiosity, wondering how or why her mother would be the source of the noise. 

          Antonin had very few redeeming qualities in his life, but his ties with his family had been one of them. Well, not his parents as much as his grandmother. It was only ever at her urging that he had found the strengthen to leave Belarus. Nothing suggested that Alecto’s relationship with her mother was similar to his with his grandmother. Instead if seemed like something else entirely. The nature of the vital was interesting. The longer that he seemed to be here the more questions arose with little answers. He paused for a moment, remembering her comment earlier. “Is she sick ?” Antonin finally inquired, although it felt clumsy the moment it left his mouth. 

        There were few moments of his life where Antonin was so in the dark. It was exhilarating to be in new territory, but he did not love the loss of power. So he steadied himself in the silence. Patience would have to be his game when it came to dealing with what was to come. He was sure that it would pay off in spades if he were able to endure all the mystery. 

[antonindolchov]

ophelia-burke‌:

WHO: Ophelia & OPEN WHERE: A small park somewhere near Knockturn Alley

It didn’t matter how long she was away for, but any time that Ophelia left London for more than a week, it was always a test on her patience having to return back to the busy streets filled with people that she had very little time for. Having been away for over a month this time, even being back in her shop, the only place she felt the most comfortable, was trying after just a few hours. Given the reasons for her leaving, it was going to take a moment to get back in to old habits, but for now, she needed to get out for a breath of fresh air. 

Borgin had sensed that she needed a break, and was happy to take over while she stepped out, assuring her that he had things covered for the rest of the day if she wasn’t up to coming back. With that in mind, the redhead grabbed her cloak and took the streets, walking and walking until she eventually found a small park nearby where she could finally let out a breath that she hadn’t realised that she was holding. 

It was quiet, from what she could see, but after a moment she had a feeling that there was someone approaching from behind. Her steady pace soon slowed, until she eventually stopped, turning somewhat as she glanced back at the person approaching her. 

It was a nice day for a walk. 

         The ministry had exhausted his patience this morning and he needed to be around something that didn’t test his patience so much. Something about being confined to those walls make it difficult to feel alive. Not to mention his coworkers were a less than ideal bunch. When making the choice on where to go Antonin was always one to favor Knockturn Alley over the crowd streets of Diagon Alley. It was natural to head to the park, where the only semblance of silence existed. 

          It was only happenstance that he noticed the redhead was headed in a similar direction. His footsteps seemingly falling behind hers. Antonin’s mouth quirked downward as he attempted to keep his head down. She looked familiar, but Antonin could not exactly place where they might have crossed paths before. He ran a hand through his hair, looking as the company around them seemed to thin and she seemed to slow to a halt. Antonin paused, meeting the woman’s gaze. 

         “Sorry to unnerve you, I was just headed this direction as well.” He said, voice gruffer then he had anticipated. When put on the spot he seemed to be terrible at first impression. “I’m Antonin Dolohov.” He offered.

[antonindolchov]

sweetpoiscn‌:

He had a point, she noted while he talked. Those with the means were allowed to make mistakes, allowed to get away with things that she and Antonin would never. Alecto had been surprised that she’d been able to get away with the brief holiday Bellatrix had dragged her on in France, but she supposed the connection of a Lestrange granted her that luxury. If only she had that luxury without having to rely on Bellatrix for it. “Then tell me how you would wield it,” she said simply, tilting her chin up slightly to look at him more fully. 

She snorted at his response and sipped at her wine, recognizing a fish for more information when she saw one. If you are satisfied with that, he’d said. Was she truly ever satisfied? Alecto lowered the glass from her lips and thought for a moment, gaze becoming a bit distant until she spoke again. “I don’t think satisfied is the word I’d use. Content, perhaps, with the work I am doing and the means of which I share them with our… coworkers, but never satisfied. There is always more to discover, new methods to find, and perhaps recognition would help me achieve that, but not for long. Not if I were to be actually seen.” The recognition could very well be her downfall if she were to be found a Death Eater. She knew there were some with suspicions, but she never gave them a solid reason for that basis. “And I’d rather you not mince words with me, Mr. Dolohov. I can read a room well enough, but I’m no mind reader. If you want to know something, you need only ask.”

Whether Alecto would answer truthfully was another thing entirely, but she was certain they both knew how dangerous truth could actually be.

“Are you so certain about that?” she asked, listening to Antonin speak with genuine intrigue. She knew where he was coming from, the thought of the hunts she and Amycus went on every so often coming to the forefront of her mind. She loved when they savored those moments before the end, how their prey begged for mercy as if either of them would show it to them–all utterly wonderful. And yet, she wondered whether she could make that even better. “I understand,” she said, finishing her wine and setting the glass down on a nearby surface. “Though perhaps I could help you savor that moment, as it were. Make it more intense. You need only say the word.”

And if Alecto was surprised by the genuine interest Antonin seemed to show in her experiments, she didn’t let it show on her face, watching as he leaned in closer and asked her to explain. Oh, how she loved to explain–but it was better to show. “I could tell you,” she said slowly, meeting his eyes. “But it’s better if I show you. That way we can talk more privately.” Her lips quirked up, mischief setting in her tone. “You know, Mr. Dolohov, it’s not often I invite men to my home. Would you like me to show you my lab?”

And, judging by the smirk on her face, Alecto knew exactly how that might sound to the eavesdropping passerby.

An interesting question. 

        Tell me how you would wield it, she had asked. It was such a simple and complex question. Antonin looked down at this glass, pondering the answer, a smile curling it’s way onto his lips. “Without mercy.” He says, reveling in the words themselves. No, he would not be spineless and unworthy. Antonin would ensure that he was doing everything exactly how it was meant to be done. Brutally. He could have explain further, but he felt as if the Carrow girl would understand exactly what he meant. They seemed to be strikingly of the same vein of thought. Instead he turns to her, studying her expression as if it might give him further insight to the query. 

        He watches as she laughed, he was hardly trying his hand at humor in this moment. Antonin nods along with her words, he had never considered being recognized as a hindrance. Not that he wanted to carry the name of say, a Malfoy, and for the rest of the world to look upon them. More so what he meant was that the people in power, the people who mattered, knew how skilled and valuable you were. “Ah, I see.” He said lightly, lips pressed into a thin line at the next sentiments. Antonin straightened in his chair, making eye contact with her. “I’m not mincing words Ms.Carrow. I choose what to say very deliberately, if I wanted to know something outright I promise you I would ask.” His tone was even. Just because he was curious on an issue didn’t mean that it was always worth asking. “I appreciate your concern for the matter though.”

        Antonin’s lips twitched upward. Realizing with some irony that she spoke of him mincing words and yet would leave cliffhangers on sentences as if to reel him in further. “I would be interested in that.” He said, his voice full of intention. Antonin had worked his entire life to prolong that feeling of savoring the moment. He had created his own spells, become proficient in dueling, and had become exceptionally talented at non-verbal spells. If Alecto had something that was outside his scope of skill though, he would not deny the addition. Just the thought of being able to better savor the moment at Puddlemere was enough to make him want to send the entire party away. So that he might be able to speak freely with Ms.Carrow about their thoughts and ideas. 

        Alecto’s words were certainly not what he expected, the hint of surprise on his features. He finished the rest of his glass, setting it down on a side table, “I think I would be a fool to turn down an offer like that.” He said, matching the mischief in her tone. Antonin ran a hand through his hair, before standing and extending a hand to Ms.Carrow. “I think the party will carry on just fine without me.”

[fircyca]

Oscar Isaac in Annihilation (2018)

[antonindolchov]

thefamouswolf-rodolphus‌:

Hearing his name slip from his friend, set Rodolphus’ thoughts at ease for a moment. With everything that had happened, it was good to hear something so familiar. It made his injuries a little less sore and his mind hushed from dozens of unanswered questions. Besides all that, perhaps one of his friends or comrades could help fill in the gaps of what had happened at the event. “If you sent them to St. Mungo’s, I’m afraid I didn’t. But I shall send a house elf to go and fetch them.” he gave a nod, “I should hope word isn’t spreading like wildfire. Didn’t want many to know.” he added, but didn’t mind if his friend knew.

Borkins. Another familiar place. Maybe something there could help return his memories of the events from that night. With a nod, Rodolphus gave a half smile, “Don’t mind if I do,” he replied, only slightly sorry for his slow movement before. Yet, it got him with a friend and with some semblance of hope. “No pressure. The wounds are mostly healed, any way.” he then paused, “Anything exciting happen for you that night?”

He should have known to send them to the manor. 

         Antonin could barely stand the thought that he had made such a careless misstep. He kept a smile on his features, trying to maintain the pleasantries. With the Lestrange man that was easy to do. Antonin shrugged slightly, shaking his head. “Not many no. Just the normal crowd. Your family, a few of the others, but no one you wouldn’t want to be informed.” Which was true, most of them recognized the rarity that had occurred at Puddlemere. It was not often that they slipped up in a way that affected one of their own. There was an unfortunate accident in it happening to Lestrange instead of someone of a lower and stupider background. 

            “Glad to have the company.” For the most part that had been true. He matched pace with Rod and looked over at him every so often to make sure that he was all right. Didn’t want to strain the man too much. “The usual.” Antonin said lightly, aware that they were still in a public setting. “I encountered just as much excitement as the next bloke, I was just a little more concentrated in my efforts.” He managed. 

[antonindolchov]

viciouslestrange‌:

Bellatrix didn’t miss the way that Antonin’s gaze had lingered - but hadn’t it always? Those that knew of Rodolphus injuries had been watching her carefully in the days that followed from the attack, perhaps curious to see exactly what lay within their marriage. People had always looked - after all, Bellatrix was not a stereotypical pure-blooded wife. Their marriage of eight years with no heirs to show for it demonstrated that alone. Lucius and Narcissa were a far more stunning couple that drew eyes, but Bellatrix and Rodolphus were a curious pair. So alike, and yet so different. Bellatrix had been exhausted since the attacks, waking moments spent worrying that Rodolphus’ skin would split open again and she would not be able to save him again. 

“Bletchley,” Bellatrix repeated in a murmur, a small nod of her head. Bletchley had always been incompetent - but this was a spectacular fuck up. “I’m amazed he hasn’t been dragged to Azkaban already, but I suppose the ministry have a lot to contend with at the moment. Our lot did a spectacular job of destroying Puddletown and all their revelry.” It just appeared that some of them had put up a good fight. “Competence cannot be taught, no matter how hard you try,” Bellatrix’s thoughts lingered on Sirius - how much of her energy had she put into bringing Sirius to the straight and narrow, the correct path? And yet he had chosen light. 

“Apparently the Dark Lord still sees some use….what use, I do not know. But he does,” Bellatrix’s voice was cold, unsympathetic for those lower in their ranks. There was a reason that they were lower. “They must be corrected. Shall we go?” Bellatrix offered her arm towards Antonin, preparing to apparate as soon as he took it. 

He looked away from her. 

         Whenever he was around her it felt as if his eyes said too much. If eyes could speak that is. Who was he to speculate whether or not the marriage was legitimate. They were an odd pair, he could admit that, Rodolphus was too kind at times and neither of their actions mimicked the steps of marriage. Although Antonin himself had been too cold to experience it for himself, at least not yet, but he had watched it happen. The wedding bells, the honeymoon phase, the sound of little footsteps on the manor floor. Their understanding was something entirely different. Antonin did not care to extend the effort to understand it. If Bellatrix wanted to pretend that she was all right, and did not want to speak on it, then he was happy to carry on in that light. 

       “Competence cannot.” He said, taking another drag of the cigarette as Antonin looked over toward her. There ought to be some sort of a test you had to pass before joining the Death Eaters. He appreciated the heavy pockets and the weight that they were able to swing into society, but the burden of incompetence that they brought with him almost wasn’t worth the effort. Antonin frowned, dropping the cigarette to the ground and putting out the ember with his heel. If someone were to be fair for Antonin’s case he had not tried to teach very many people to be competent. He was not made of the patience for that. 

        Antonin shrugged, letting his lips quirk downward. “I know not to question him.” He repeated, primarily to himself. He nodded at her second sentiment, latching his arm with hers and he let the pop of the apparation take them. The sooner the better in his opinion.

[antonindolchov]

sweetpoiscn‌:

As if people with money didn’t know how to use it.

He had a point, Alecto knew that much, but all she’d were people who knew how to use their money: Bellatrix offering her a take from the Lestrange vault for healing Rodolphus, to be specific, but also the countless rich snobs that came through St. Mungo’s and waved around sacks of galleons as if that’ll get them or their loved ones the fastest, most efficient treatment before those who came ahead of them. The worse thing was it worked–people bribed their way ahead of those who were far more sickly than they were all the time, and it made her blood boil, because at one point she had been that sickly one overlooked for those with far more money than the Carrows. It was, perhaps, the rare spark of compassion that Alecto Carrow felt once in a blue moon, and it only served to fuel her hatred for the rich and the desire to be the rich. 

“But that’s the thing, Mr. Dolohov,” she said quietly, eyes flickering from the crowd to look at Antonin. “People do know how to wield it, because they’re allowed the power to do so. It’s the favor of people that allows them that easy life.” She paused. “However… I agree. The favor is only short-term. Money only gets you so far, and I’ve no doubt those favors would be sold out quickly in the face of trouble.”

Perhaps a bit of trouble was all that was needed to put the rich in place.

Her lips twitched up when Antonin’s did, and Alecto chuckled. “I suppose, but the lack of recognition allows me so much leeway. If I were recognized, I wouldn’t be able to do half of my work in peace. I suppose I’ll have to settle for the recognition of the few, rather than the many.” Alecto held back a snort as Antonin answered her question; of course he’d want to do some other task. She supposed she was similar, but she found her work relaxing. She wasn’t sure if what he’d listed made him feel the same. “All work and no play, Mr. Dolohov? That could get very awfully boring, awfully quickly.”

She sipped at her wine glass again and responded breezily, “I would be at home, working on my experiments.” Then, a little quieter so no one could overhear, “One of my poisons was taking far too long for the effects to set in. I’ll have to rework the components brewed into it, which takes time as I’m sure you know. A much more efficient use of my time.”

“They’re allowed to make mistakes.”

        Antonin clarified, his gaze stoney as he pondered his next words carefully. “I wouldn’t qualify that to knowing how to wield it.” It wasn’t as if the Lestranges, or the Blacks rose up from the ashes knowing how to maintain a position of power. Instead what they were afforded was the numerous opportunities to fuck up. Instead of having to be four moves ahead of everyone, they were allowed to play catch up. They were allowed to lag behind when it suited their needs. That could be seen after the Puddlemere incident. Rodolphus was allowed to take the time off and heal, but for Antonin the simple injury itself would have put him out of commission. How comforting it might be to dwell in those mistakes. Antonin had never known the luxury. He imagined that Alecto hadn’t either. Neither of the Carrows seemed like the world had been particularly kind to them. He shrugged, a slight frown encroaching on his features. “I do agree it has allowed them to lead any easy life.”

        It was if all those powerful folks went through the motions because they had decided that it was the proper thing to do. Not doing anything because it excited them, or brought them joy. To see even a spark of madness in any of his cohorts would be more enticing than all of these formalities. The dancing, the food, the wine, they were all decent perks, but it did not get his blood boiling the way other things might. The man nodded looking over at Alecto with some renewed understanding. Recognition did not seem to be the motivating factor for her, but something that was intriguing. The motivations of those around him were distinctly different than his own for the most part. “If you are satisfied with that.” He quipped. Her phrasing was mysterious in nature, and he wanted to inquire more on it, but refrained, afraid of exposing himself in some way.

         He chuckled, shaking his head lightly. “I wouldn’t say it is no play Ms.Carrow. We just might differ on the definition of play.” Antonin shrugged, swirling the dark liquid around his glass. “I must say that the best bits of -- the job -- or what have you, come in the actual action. Anything that assists me in better savoring that moment seems like a worthy use of my time. And utterly compelling.” He took a sip of his drink, nearing the end of his glass by this time. “Not the typical answer you’d expect but it does tend to serve me well.” He would have detested having been thought of as mundane or ill informed. However, he felt as if he needed further explanation. He was a man of simple pleasures and it seemed good enough to keep to those. 

          Antonin looked at her, truly interested in what she had to say. He arched an eyebrow at the first mention of an ‘experiment ’. Antonin strived to match her lowly tone, “Sorry to hear that my party is keeping you from such exciting ventures.” He leaned in closer, eyebrows knitted together in curiosity. “How exactly do you know the poison isn’t working quick enough ? ”