gregory e. goyle.

• twenty-four. • death eater. • • code 1 • violent. • dumb. • • hot-headed • strong • brute •• magical animal executioner. •

[gregorygoyle-sr]

xburke​:

“I – okay.” Maya hadn’t been expecting more demands on top of what she had already offered, but it made her laugh a bit. “Fair enough.” She had dragged him onto the ground, after all, a feat when you considered the size difference between the two. Even if Greg wasn’t taller, he had that air about him – and Maya was the complete opposite. Small, but with a big personality. Perhaps there was a bit of a link there, but she didn’t care much to explore it. Deep down she knew that the manner in which her family treated her growing up was the biggest contribution factor, but she would never delve into that either.

There was simply… way too much to unpack there, and she didn’t care for it.

“Oh – a lot, yeah! I mean I love the energy here. Everyone’s just going around, having a good time, dancing to the music. I usually have to find random shows in order to have a night like this, and they’re never this big of a crowd.” It was never the music she showed up for, but it was a nice benefit. More than once she had gone to a show only to realize they placed softer music and she was bored within five minutes. Sitting around and solemnly listening to lyrics wasn’t how she wished to pass the time. “-Were you having fun?”

Dancing, music, and crowds - the three things Goyle didn’t care much for. Honestly, there weren’t even thoughts in his puny mind. He rarely thought about dancing as Gregory was born with two left feet. Mind you, two large feet that were used for stomping beetles in his mother’s garden as a boy. Could you imagine him stomping on someone’s feet as they attempted to waltz? Music wasn’t even a vocabulary word to Greg. He couldn’t tell you the popular artist that was playing at the event. Thirdly, crowds. Enough said.  

Goyle cleared his throat not sure how to answer her question. But that was most of the time when people asked him questions. “It’s been...” his voice trailed off as he thought hard for the words. No really, honestly thinking of the word to say. “...eventful?” That was a word. He followed her to the nearest food and drink tent, his stomach growling loudly. “Change me mind, I want a 4 sausages, 2 chicken and ham pies, and 2 treacle tart,” he said waving her towards the cashier. He grinned at the idea of dinner he was about to receive. “And I s’pose whateva you want,” he shrugged. He glanced over at the bar nodding his head toward it. He guess he could get her a drink for the all the trouble although it was she that knocked him and his drink over. He wasn’t doing it to be polite, he needed something to wash all the food down and he figured since he was going over there anyway, it wouldn’t hurt to ask. “Wha’s your poison?”    

[gregorygoyle-sr]

xburke​:

Had Maya been sober (an unlikely event in its entirety), her reaction may have been a bit different. A battle of two different realities – first, she was a Burke. Her father may not accept that and she may be out on her own, but she was, and that came with the notion of cowering before no one. Maya had never been one to use her name for anything, it simply wasn’t her; she cared not for fame or respect or power. She was just here to had a damn good time. Most times, she was humble and kind and had no issue apologizing to someone – especially after knocking them over.

What she normally wouldn’t do is allow someone to grumble at her the way he had and simply brush it off. Admittedly – her reaction would not have been harsh or crude; that was one of the benefits of having Alecto around. It was never required of her. It would have, however, been more along the lines of an explanation and left at that.

The second reality – she knew that face and could easily put a reputation to it. Of all the people here that she had to literally knock over, her drunk self chose Gregory Goyle. Not that it came as much of a surprise; what she did when she was like this was often something groaned about in the morning. Or chalked up to a ‘good story’, depending.

Regardless of all that – Maya was absolutely smashed, and the sight of Gregory immediately made her groan a bit. “Fuck mate, I’m so sorry about that - I’m fine, yeah, thank you.” Now that the both of them were off the ground, she was finally able to assess the full magnitude of her falling down and knew that something had to be done about it. “I’ll buy you a new drink – and that… was that cotton candy? The pink and blue stuff? I’ll get you one of those, too.”

Goyle wasn’t the most observant person. He might have noticed Maya Burke a few times here and there, she seemed fairly familiar but Gregory wasn’t sure why. Once they were both brushed up and off the ground, he finally managed to finally recognized her a bit. He soften his glare, even if it was a tiny bit, as he was someone who was used to wearing dirty clothing, he didn’t mind the stain of cotton candy too much, just the fact that he had been on the ground. That annoyed him. Maya seemed fairly intoxicated, but not enough to be not be aware of her attentions, she was kind enough to asses the situation and noticed that Goyle was happily eating his candy by himself, and to make up for it was important.

“Okay,” he finally said as he dusted himself off for the final time. “But I also want a sausage and treacle tart,” he demanded as he followed her. To be honest, he didn’t know much about Maya except that she seemed to hang around Alecto Carrow. As a matter of fact, Goyle didn’t know much about Alecto or anyone else minus his little circle. Which wasn’t that big at all. If it wasn’t for their “meetings” Goyle wouldn’t have much of a social circle at all. 

“Yer were havin’ fun? You like dis band?”

[gregorygoyle-sr]

l-a-malfoy​:

Lucius looked over at Gregory’s outfit as he joined him. It was a pity the man didn’t care about appearances more. Lucius would never be caught dead in clothing with stains of blood on them. But that was, he supposed, the crux of their friendship after all. Lucius liked being the best, he liked being in power, but you never got there without breaking a few noses. And he didn’t particularly care for physical fighting. That was where little Gregory had come in as children .He was the muscle to back up Lucius’s silver tongue. If being seen beside a man who wore bloodstains the way Lucius wore rings meant that he had someone of good use at his side, then he supposed that was just the price he was going to have to pay.

He blinked at Goyle’s words. Maybe it was just the noise from the wretched band, But it could just be Goyle being Goyle. He was of great use to Lucius. But he wasn’t exactly bright was he. He sighed and raised his voice. “Mother wouldn’t come due to this awful racket they’re trying to pass off as music. She would never deign trying to pass off something like this as acceptable.” HIs mother’s blood was just as pure as his father’s and a Ravenclaw and, unlike her son who saw its uses, never had time for anything she didn’t see as fitting of her time and money. “But we can’t have someone take home the biggest donation that isn’t a Malfoy. So here we are.”

He took another drink from his glass. “There’s a little bar set up over there. Drinks and snacks, though honestly the food is fit only for children.” He rolled his eyes. Had he been planning a fundraiser it would certainly not look like this. “This does seem to beg the question though, why exactly are you here tonight? Hardly doubt your mummy and daddy would see it as fitting of you,” he said using the parental terms condescendingly, even if he wasn’t sure Goyle would even realize.

Gregory smirked, or at least attempted to. He should have know Mrs. Malfoy wouldn’t be in attendance. His mother often told him that Mrs. Malfoy could make you or break you. Perhaps this was the reason his family were such hermits, only hosting lavish parties at the request of other powerful families. Like Gregory who held Lucius up so highly, for his parents had held the Malfoy’s before him nearly as high as he had did. His parents had always told him to never make their son angry or upset, which Goyle did his best to never do. In fact, he enjoyed Lucius’ company. His sharp tongue, his quick wit, and his high standards, everything that Goyle was not. It normally took 24-48 hours of him to come up with a come back and by then it was too late. It comforted Gregory to know that Lucius might need him when things got ugly.

He watched as Lucius took a drink, alcohol being Gregory’s drug of choice. He didn’t enjoy smoking cigarettes as smoke would get caught in his eye. Alcohol was the only way to cut loose. He ignored his eye rolling as he stopped an serving elf on their way to fill up their plate. “Oi, yew there, get me a sandwich and some of that candy, ya?” The elf startled by the sudden request blinked at Goyle. “Now,” he growled as he balled his right hand into a fist. The elf took notice rushing towards the tent quickly and later returned with different sorts of mini sandwiches and candy corn. “Leave the plate,” he said forcefully removing the platter from the elf’s skinny arms. The elf whimpered and returned back towards the tent. Goyle smiled grabbing two sandwiches before smashing them together and tossing some candy corn on top.

“Mum and dad don’t like these sort of things, ya know that,” he said while smacking his lips onto the sandwich. He chew a bit before speaking once more. “Oh yea, it was a work event or somethin’. We were handing’ out business cards and dat sort,” he said between a breath of sandwich. “It was my idea,” Goyle admitted proudly, although admittedly, it wasn’t the best idea to be networking among a charity for saving children when Goyle was advistering to kill magical animals. But, business what business, right?

[gregorygoyle-sr]

cissxblxck​:

Narcissa was bored. She wondered how long she had to torment herself with this event before she could leave. Anyone that knew her knew that this was not her scene at all. She preferred delicate classical music, and afternoon teas. Concerts like this were not her thing at all. She was only showing face. But if it helped the Black reputation then it was worth it. Daddy would be pleased, and she always wanted to make her daddy pleased.

Oh. Someone was coming over. Narcissa smiled though. Goyle. She didn’t know him too well. But he seemed pleasant enough. Or well, he was to her anyway. They’d been in the same house and year at school. And, he hadn’t bullied her. Although, she figured nobody would. She had a fearsome sister to hurt anyone that bullied her.

“Evening Mr Goyle. So lovely to see you!” She murmured with a smile. At least it was someone that was a little more interesting that this dreadful music. “I am wonderful. How about yourself?” She wasn’t really that wonderful, but one never truly complained in public. She didn’t know who else might be listening to this conversation. “You could say that….” She murmured, a little eyeroll as she looked at the stage. Looking back over to Goyle she smiled. “Take a seat. Company would be lovely”

Goyle managed another smile, the corner of his lips turning upwards and this time in a real smile, as she invited him to take a seat. Gregory sat, his stomach empty as it growled in front of Narcissa. He cleared his throat as loudly as he could to mask the sound coming from his stomach.

“Thank you,” he murmured politely as he could without it coming out as a mumble. If anything, around anyone the opposite gender, Goyle had did his best to be on his best behavior. As a kid, his mother had always drilled that being polite and smiling was a good way to get woman to like you. ( But my face is different, I can’t smile, he thought. ) She also would yell at him if he had forgotten deodorant or to brush his teeth. Often times scolding him and telling him this was the major reason woman didn’t flocke to him. Coming from a family of wealth, Goyle had always been interested in things that were deemed too common. Gregory enjoyed doing tasks with his hands as well as causing fear while his family did their best to keep things under wraps, or “under the table” as his father often said. There weren’t too many professions with his personality type to choose from, but Narcissa, even as a child, forced him to stand up a bit straighter, she allowed him to act his best. Perhaps she was the type of woman his mother often projected he would never get. These types of women were always difficult, attractive to say the least, but not the sort to get mixed up with a fellow like Goyle. Perhaps, this is what made him so nervous to be around. He felt as if she was judging him and no matter how nice she was, she was never going to allow him in. No matter how much he wanted to. 

Yet! Goyle was ecstatic when she allowed his company. He sat down, pulling his cloak over his grey button down trying his best to hide the blood stains of whatever creature from that afternoon. 

“Goyle,” he finally mumbled out as he got comfortable.  “Or Greg,” he told her nodding in her direction. He sat awkwardly for a moment before speaking away. “Um, how’s the wine?” He said attempting to start conversation. This was typical Goyle behavior. He mostly spoke in grunts and short sentences, managing a conversation was not his forte. It was always weird for Goyle if he wasn’t talking about work, it seemed like these days it was the only thing he knew. He cleared his throat once more. 

“How’s ya enjoyin’ the evenin’?”    

[gregorygoyle-sr]

l-a-malfoy​:

Lucius strolled into the venue, fashionably late as always. He wouldn’t dare dream be the first to arrive to such a thing, but he would certainly be in attendance. And of course he would make sure there was a donation made by the Malfoy family that was memorably generous. Anything to keep the Malfoy name on the tip of everyone’s tongue. There was nothing worse than being forgotten.

The taste in music for the event though, well it certainly left something to be desired. Couldn’t they have had a classy event? Something nice. With an orchestra or a string quartet and champagne and everyone dressed in their finest. Not this…rave? Concert? Whatever it was, it didn’t suit Lucius. But no major event happened in the wizarding world without his presence.

He sighed to himself as he hung back at the edge of the crowd. “An interesting choice to try and raise money. You would think if they’re looking to attract those with money the would do something a little more…tactful. My mother refused to come this evening and I can’t really say that I blame her.”

As rich as the Goyle’s were, they were rather stingy with their gold. Sometimes. It depended on the event and the charity of course. The Goyle’s not only flaunted their money when possible, they normally donated great amounts to charities that benefited their own family. Other would call these donations bribes or hush money, but any money giving away freely was considered a donation. This event didn’t seem worth a knut at this point. The thought of giving children, orphans nonetheless, money was beyond a thought Gregory could comprehend. No seriously, he couldn’t wrap his mind around it all. He just didn’t get it. ( If they didn’t have homes, why did they need money for? ) 

Lost in thought, still wearing his work wear from that morning, with small splashes of green blood mixed with red and blue, stained the collar of his dark grey button down shirt. Gregory wasn’t the type to care about his appearance, normally shaggy with unkempt hair and rugged five o’clock shadow, while still wearing the blood of the creatures whose lives he took from that day, was his signature look. Never bothering to change as he thought the blood gave his wear “personality”. 

Having been lost in a thought he didn’t even realized he had bulldozed his way through crowd of people finding himself on the edge next to a tall, blonde man. He found himself face to face with Lucius Malfoy, who looked dapper as ever. Compared to Goyle, it was night and day. It was possible that Lucius enjoyed his company because he often time made Malfoy look better. But Goyle hoped it wasn’t just that. He raised a brow at Malfoy, surprised to see him so suddenly. Of course Lucius would have arrive to an event as such so it wasn’t too much of a surprise to Goyle.

“Blame her for wha?” Goyle asked only catching the last part of his sentence. There was never really a form of greeting between Lucius and Goyle, besides Gregory’s hands were always dirty and covered in Merlin knows what, so Lucius always refused to shake hands with him. He didn’t really blame him or hold it against him. He figured they were friendly enough to do without a proper greeting. “Where’s your mum? I thought she’d be here for this,” he said smacking his gums as he looked at Lucius’s beverage in hand. “Where did ya get that?”

[gregorygoyle-sr]

cissxblxck​:

Concerts were really not her scene at all. She really hated people being in her personal space, and she really could not stand mingling with individuals that were not up to her standard. So in general, she really did not want to be here. But, it made her look good and helped her reputation to be here. So that was why she was here. Of course, she didn’t intend on staying to see all of the concert. She intended on staying for a little while, maybe an hour or so. And then she’d go.

She was trying to keep herself to herself, or find someone that was worth talking too. There was so much riff raff here. She really could not stand it. She was currently sat, drinking a small red wine as she people watched, Maybe she could find someone worth talking too.

Gregory Goyle attempted to lift the corners of his lips into an almost polite smile, no teeth as people often told him it was weird when he smiled with teeth. It seemed as if his face couldn’t compute with managing a friendly smile, nonetheless, he smiled as politely as he could as he waved his coworkers goodnight. They were asked to come to the event in hopes to raised money for the...orphans, as well as pass out flyers and business cards about exterminating pest or unruly magical creatures. I know what you’re thinking, how can anyone bring a magical creature executioner to an event for raising money for children? It was dark to say the least and they did have trouble bringing people into their booth. In fact, Goyle was surprised it hadn’t been his idea in the first place until he remember he disliked going to events as such. He was dragged here and since he was the face behind the black hooded mask, he was forced to be the last one to leave. “Go network, talk to some folks,” one of his co-workers inforced as they bid good evening while making their way into the crowd. Gregory would have loved nothing more than to go home at this point but since he was already here he might as well get something for dinner. Most nights he rarely ate anything at night since he didn’t do much cooking in his one room studio flat. 

Goyle waved his wand in front of the booth that flashed grey with bold letters reading “Magical Creature Extermination” and a moving image of a hippogriff galloping across before stopping short in front of a black hood man holding an axe. The hippogriff bowed as the man brought the axe up about to swing it over the animal’s head. The image stopped and repeated itself before the axe came down over the creature’s neck. It had been Gregory’s idea for the banner although a lot of others disagreed with it. The booth disappeared as he moved his wand swiftly and sharply in the air, leaving a little puff of smoke. He pushed his wand back into his cloak pocket as he turned on his heels heading over to what looked like a cosy tent where witches and wizards stood in line for a beverage. His stomach rumbling at the smell of sweets and warm meat in the air. 

He walked towards the tent when a wisp of blonde hair caught his eye. Goyle quickly stopped in his tracks as the blonde rang familiar in his mind. He turned his head towards the woman, sitting alone while she sipped at her wine oh-so sweetly. Gregory stared at her for what seemed like several minutes before he broke his gaze finding himself standing in the middle of the crowd like some kind of lunatic. He ran his fingers through his hair, smoothing it down as best as he could before making his way over to the woman. Once more, he tried his best to smile politely, this time with teeth.

“Um, ‘ello, Ms. Black,” he said mustering up all the courage he had in him. “How are you?” Narcissa Black had always made him nervous, sometimes in a good way and sometimes not so in a good way. He didn’t know her very well minus the fact that they had attended Hogwarts together, were in the same house, and attended certain meetings from time to time. Although Goyle was quiet the bully at Hogwarts, he didn’t dare mess with Narcissa. Bellatrix Black was far too scary to deal with if he ever did. “Lovely evenin’, yeah? Mind if I sat with ya for a bit?”

[gregorygoyle-sr]

xburke​:

“I love this band!” Her voice ringing out over the sounds of instruments and songs (thought just barely), Maya once again pushed back her now-drenched hair, never being properly prepared with anything to tie it back. Not that it bothered her all too much; it was something to push around, to flip, to play with; and even if it annoyed others around her, she never gave a single damn. Especially once a few drinks were in her system, which of course was the case tonight. It was practically mandatory, if you asked her – you didn’t attend a concert sober.

Unless you enjoyed being miserable, and she just never considered herself to be that type of person.

With colour-changing drops in her drink and a glow-in-the-dark necklace hung loosely around her neck, Maya could have been surrounded by absolute strangers and not had a single semblance of caring. This… this was her element. Yet she got carried away, as she so often did, attempting to make her way through the crowd for a re-fill.

Why didn’t they just refill themselves? Had they not yet come that far?

Stumbling around, a foot that was just slightly stuck out managed to end up right in front of her, sending her falling forward – and the cup went flying. A sound of panic immediately left her mouth, forgetting that the damn thing was empty, and she ever-so-gracefully grabbed onto the nearest person, pulling them down to the ground with them. “Ow – oh, my bad – sorry about that!”

It wasn’t like Gregory Goyle to come to such events. Music blaring overtly too loud. The smell of body order from the sweaty people around him cheering for the band. The blinding lights that often left him with headaches afterwards. It just wasn’t his style nor did he ever feel particularly welcomed. Perhaps it had something to do with the rugged snarl on his face, his brows furrowed down and his dark eyes in a mean glare. He didn’t look warm and fuzzy, nor did he look like the approachable type. Although at this moment, he did look a little odd holding a stick of cloudy cotton candy that changed from blue to pink in one hand and a large mug of butterbeer in the other. His dark dementor hovering off on the side underneath a lamp post allowing the light to highlight the dark shadows on his face even more darker allowing him appear even more sinister. Witches would walk past, gripping tightly at the hands of their children as they made their way around him, trying hard not to meet his eye. Gregory was also fairly unpopular with the magical creature community, a lot of them sending him nasty howlers informing him he could not hide behind his black hooded mask, and demanding he stopped. Of course, Gregory worked for the ministry and was able to get around some of their complaints by showing them the legal paperwork and the fact that his profession is a needed one among them. Allegedly. ( Could you imagine, magical, dangerous creatures, running a muk in out streets? ) he thought to himself.

He took a bite out of the blue fluff, a tiny bit sticking to his check as it changed to pink and blue after a few minutes. This wasn’t his idea to come to this event. Anything that had to do with children or giving money to charity definitely wasn’t up Goyle’s alley. He was told by his work that it would be a good “networking” opportunity. Give witches and wizards your business card and chalk them up. Who knows? Someone could be in need of getting rid of a pest from their garden. Or perhaps a creature bit a child? ( Serves a child right...) he thought again taking a large drink from his mug. A white foamy mustache from the beer stuck to his upper lip. Gregory wasn’t also the type to come up to someone and just start talking. He normally spoke in low grunts and heavy mumbles. Plus, he also wasn’t the smartest bloke to talk to. He’d leave you with more questions than answers.

Gregory took a step forward, his body slamming into someone in front of him. He felt the grip of his butterbeer give as the mug fell to the ground, splashing his pant leg , the bottom of his cloak and onto the person he had bumped into. He felt their grip around his arm as they surprisingly caught him off guard, dragging him to the ground among the wet beer on the cold floor. His cotton candy now pressed stickily against his grey button down in a cloudy mess of blue and pink. He hissed under his breath, glancing at the person. It was a woman. Gregory’s snarled didn’t leave his face, he just blinked as she apologized to him. 

“Move,” he grunted as he picked himself up off the floor, then kindly as possible he assisted the woman by lifting the woman up by her elbow easily. She was light and it did take a powerful person such as Goyle to swing a giant axe around. He helped her up before dusting himself off, his lips moving slightly as he muttered swears under his breath. Clearing his throat and running his hands against his shirt, he scoffed. “Are you alright?” He finally managed to say without his voice trembling with anger.  

[bonjonbovi]

[gregorygoyle-sr]

- just a goyle being a gregory.

[gregorygoyle-sr]

who: open

where: diagon alley

time: early evening

Gregory Goyle grunted under his breath, his long black coat collar was pulled up high above his neck and tucked right underneath the stubble on his chin. Gregory was in a rather sour mood, but hell, when was he not? If it wasn’t one thing, it was another. This one had been the fault of the secretary’s though. She was new, and perhaps he should have cut her some slack at the office, but honestly! Scheduling two executions on the same day at the same time didn’t make for great customer service. Nor was he pleased with the way she had handled it. Apologizing profusely! Was she serious? If it had been him, he would have blamed it on the new secretary, which he did, mind you. It had been Gregory’s fault all along. He had scheduled them purposely at the same time just to see what the new girl had got going on for her. No guts, no nerve, nothing. A boring little blonde with nothing much going on in her head. Gregory had thought perhaps he’d give her a pity shag if she was up for it, but she had really turned him off and wasn’t even worth that. She cried after Gregory yelled at her and was unconsolable for the rest of the day, which was why Gregory was in such a foul mood. She had left early for the day because she was having a “nervous breakdown” as she so-called put it. Gregory was left to pick up where she had left off, which involved a lot of paperwork and more double scheduling on his part. 

To no one’s surprised, Gregory fairly enjoyed his job. Killing creatures of all sorts because of something or another, such as biting a child (probably deserved it) or a pet (just asking for it) or being wild and uncontrollable (Gregory’s favorite type). His father on the other hand felt it was an embarrassment to the Goyle name, as if Gregory was collecting garbage instead of killing it. During the Holidays, his father often lied to their family about his son’s occupation, saying he worked for the Ministry instead. Liked anyone really believed that. Gregory was as dumb as they came, it wasn’t like they really believed that lie away, but they smiled and humor Gregory’s father, for he had a temper just as bad as his son’s. He really hated the Holidays and most of the time refused to come home, unless his mother asked begged really nicely. This past Holiday wasn’t any different. He was just glad to be out of there and with no Holiday coming in sight. 

The man shuffled his feet, moving between the crowd in Diagon Alley. This wasn’t his typical normal hang out spot, but it was the quickest way back to his shabby little flat. He felt as witches and wizards shoved pasted him and away from Knockturn Alley. Their hats pulled over their eyes making everyone look faceless in the crowd. It was rather cold for a March day, but he supposed the sun wasn’t really out this time of year. The snow fell heavily on them as they pushed passed each other. Shoulders brushing shoulders when he felt someone give him a hard shove. Gregory stopped in his tracks, taken back by the brute force. He looked up from his feet, whipping his head towards the direction of the person who had hit him. 

“Oi! Watch where ya goin’!” He shouted to the crowd not sure who it was that knocked into him. He glanced around, his eyes darting from person to person. The group looked up at him shock from the sudden outburst. Gregory sneered at everyone staring at him in surprised. The man returned their stares with glaring eyes. “Whatcha lookin’ at?” He asked with a forceful grunt to a group of elderly witches. The group shook their heads, eyes darting away from the pissed off man. He turned back around stopping in his tracks in front of a familiar face.

“Oi, it’s you,” Gregory muttered between closed lips.

[fuckyeahiwanrheon]

[gregorygoyle-sr]

• who: open. • where: hog's head in. • when: feb. 1979; winter; evening.

What a terribly long day it had been. The rugged man sat hunched over at the bar, his cold grey eyes staring at the bar floor, the wet soggy mat and the curl of cloudy colored mold that grew in the drain right next to it occupying his mind. He watched as water from the sink dripped down into it eventually turning his gaze and quickly knocking his neck back as he inhaled the shot glass in front of him of firewhiskey. (That’s 3 killin’s more than yesterday, he thought to himself.) As much as he enjoyed his job as an Magical Creature Executioner, it was tiring. His shoulders ached and his arms felt heavy from carrying around his scythe all day, up and down hills, through hedges, trees, and whatever witches and wizards kept in their gardens. He also wasn’t the person most people were too keen to see. His face was almost always covered, he wore a jet black hood that only allowed his slate colored eyes to be seen. The man was normally quiet in his everyday life, but he was abnormally quiet on his job. He felt it was his own way of maining his professionalism. Very professional was Gregory Goyle, the grunty lad as he is known as in office. He had much rather prefer to do his job on site although it wasn’t uncommon when people had to bring their creature into the Ministry. It could be that the Ministry had picked them up, could have been because they attacked someone and had nowhere else to go. At least the field trip ones he got to wander out and was also given more time the next day to finish his paperwork. 

The Hog’s Head Inn was the only place where he felt the most comfortable. It was a lonely hole of a pub with not a lot of witches or wizards. He spent most of his time alone anyway. Unless there was some sort of meeting with the group he was involved. He never let on that he was a Death Eater, but he was pretty sure it was written all over his face. No one could really prove it though. He followed the law. In his own way. Didn’t bother anyone. Unless necessary. And if you left him alone, Goyle would most likely do that same. That is, if you didn’t have a bounty on your head. 

Feeling pretty good, yet exhausted, Goyle almost wished he had someone to talk to. Normally on nights as such, he would have a few drinks and wander home to his dirty old studio flat. His reflection in the broken bathroom mirror would be that only thing to talk to and most of the time, the mirror never said say nice things. He heaved a sigh, tapped his index finger to his glass for the bartender to give him another. His glass filling up on it’s own at the man behind the bar’s request. Gregory tossing it back again, slamming the glass on the glossy bar. 

“Oi, ‘nother one, ye?” He grunted in a low mumble.

[lstwizzle]