just one more quick note that i am no longer a member of the ooc blog so any responses made to mine, i havenât been able to see -- itâs not that i simply ignored anyone if they did reply, i promise!!!
but again, my skype is siriusblxck for anyone who wants to stay in contact!!
Severus rolled his eyes, this was not going to be easy. âIâm not delving into things. I just simply wanted to know if what the other students are saying is true.â He replied coolly, placing his hands in his pockets. Okay, so Lucius may have been partially right - Severus didnât exactly have any business to do with it, but he would in a matter of months. He was almost completely certain now that he would take the mark. After all, what other opportunities did he have for after Hogwarts? None. The offer made by the Dark Lord was too good for Severus to refuse.
Lucius mimicked the action, blue-grey hues sharing in the gesture of irritation as he was further pestered. âSeverus, I thought you were at least more intelligent than that. By asking, you are delving into the situation. Youâre better off left to the rumors, Snivellus,â he responded, calling upon the nickname made up for him by James and his imbeciles for friends. But there was no way Lucius was giving up anything of information to the wannabe -- as he thought of Severus, before him.
Bellatrix was having a difficult time stilling the smile on her face. Oh, how she wanted to join the ones causing chaos just outside these walls â to have such fear be present on the faces of those in the school because of her. She sauntered over to her future brother ( the word still sends your stomach into a curl, doesnât it? ) and flashed him a half-amused gaze. âPoor girl.âÂ
When he saw h e r, malicious intent embodied as she sauntered over to him, he smiled. Lucius had always had an appreciation for Bellaâs ruthlessness, making being around her not as much of a chore as he would have expected out a soon-to-be sister in law ( then, it sure as bloody hell didn't hurt that she was easy on the eyes too ). âYou look far too excited, Bella -- - how terrible of you,â he scolded her, an empty resonance to his words that indicated his teasing.Â
Severus was returning to the castle when the alarm sounded. He was amongst the first students to be corralled in the Great Hall, securing himself a spot against the wall. He wasnât completely sure what had gone on, although he had a feeling that the Death Eaters were involved. He listened in on other studentsâ conversations - it was the easiest way to find out what was going on as the staff werenât exactly forthcoming. So, a student was apparently missing? They probably wouldnât be returning any time soon.. at least all in one piece. Looking around the hall, Severus spotted Lucius, heâd probably know more about what happened. He pushed his way through the crowd, coming to a stop next to him. âWhat do you know?â
One of the few -- - or rather, only things he appreciated about Severus was his ability and preference to mind his own. Yet, it seemed he would not be spared an interrogation from his fellow housemate, not this time. Although, his naive way of thinking that Lucius would spill anything was enough to allow a scoff to escape Lucâs lips. âYou shouldnât delve into things you have no business with, Snape -- - thatâs how you get hurt,â he warned, eyes far off from the other, not revealing anything of his thoughts or feelings. As if he would be the one to choke up the plans of the Dark Lord ( no, he didnât have a death wish ).
âLeast hated? Well, out of Slytherin to start, I donât hate that Severus fellow much. He minds his own, but he still has muddied blood all the same. From Ravenclaw, I suppose Vance is pretty enough for me not to hate her completely â but I still wouldnât go near her regardless. As for Hufflepuff, I wouldnât say I care enough about the house to hate any one of âem, but the â - the, erm, blonde isnât the most intolerable. Ingrid, was it? No, Isa.. Oh, who the bloody hell cares anyway? For Gryffindor, I canât say I least hate any of the grouped mudbloods and blood traitors, so Iâll tell you whom I hate the most â Potter.â
Lucius was among the stirring bodies, caught between hushed whispers of panic -- a single soul among many. As rumors and present evidence had presented, a girl was missing from the crowd, suggested to have been captured or killed or lost; those were the theories at least. Personally, he didnât care either which way. He wasnât frightened by the prospect of Death Eaters, not in the slightest by those who he could have called his brethren. Rather, he was draped languidly against a wall, arms crossed without a care. And when eyes were drawn to him, heavy with disgust, he wondered -- did that make him a monster? Yes, he supposed, it did.
âYou are something else, Lucius Malfoy.â The words werenât said rudely, they were more a revelation of sorts. Because he was â and she didnât know how to feel about it â not that she liked to feel much in the first place now a days. He was her intended betrothed, he was the person sheâd spend the rest of her life with & really she shouldâve tried to get on with him. Narcissa did try, she supposed in her own way, but she saw how he was with others. With the other girls, and it made her wonder if she was just the shiniest toy, the best conquest. She couldnât let herself believe his words were genuine for her own sake but she could play along. Maybe sheâd let herself enjoy this conversation â maybe sheâd try. Because maybe, just maybe, he was as well.Â
âEven more suave than Lucius âCool Guyâ Malfoy suave? Doubtful.â There was a teasing tone then, a ghost of a smile when the sides of her lips curled upwards. Narcissa didnât b r e a k eye contact with him â she was his equal & sheâd let him know. âIâd like to see you drunk now, not that I am for drinking on school grounds⌠ââ another tease ( a hypocritical one seeing as she did like her wine ), or was it flirting? No matter, âbeing a prefect, I couldnât condone it. But your intrigue, tell me more. Whatâs so intriguing? An odd favorite color? â Donât make promises you canât keep, Lucius.â
âSomething else entirely, yes,â he agreed of her observations, gentle smile leaking into his visage. He hoped that were something good, a new sort of wonderful -- perhaps. Then, maybe it were that he was strange, in a way she had no particular interest for; he preferred the former. âYou wouldnât know until you saw me in action, Miss Black. Maybe Iâll lure you into one of my drunken adventures so that you could see myself in action,â he mused aloud, her eye contact met -- and, oh, how she was so much more than just his equal as she wanted him to know her as. âOh? Iâve seen you at a party or two, Narcissa, and you donât fool me for a moment. Prefect or not, love. Though, as to my intrigue -- itâs most obviously unvaried. After all, my favourite colour is teal.â
&&. ââ â LUCIUS MALFOY ; moodboard ! â ft. himself and narcissa black. â
M O O D B O A R D Â ; Â RELATIONSHIP C --
NARCISSA BLACK & LUCIUS MALFOY, A SUN AND ALL HIS STARS.
âSheâs just -- uhm, how should I explain it? Narcissa, sheâs -- she is my once in a lifetime. I know coming from me that must sound ridiculous, but itâs true. Sheâs not like other girls, Narcissa is defiant -- and almost always against me. Sheâs true, I know that if she ever decides to open up to me, itâll be the real thing. Sheâs all encompassing, got me wrapped around her little finger as Iâm sure she knows. I love her. Sheâs great.
Kill â Iâll write an angst drabble of my character violently killing yours. ohMYGOD WHY
It was no secret that despite everything that he had to go through with being a Muggleborn, Ted was always able to keep a level head no matter what. Ted rarely got angry; only a fair few could say that they saw Ted Tonks raging. It was a rarity for him to yell at someone, and he only did that if someone was bullying someone else.Â
Lucius Malfoy was someone that managed to always get under his skin. Ted didnât mind it when Malfoy talked about him; there was nothing he could say that he hasnât heard before, and Ted had thick skin. It was when he dragged the people he cared about into the mess where Ted turned livid. He couldnât deal with it anymore, and it was getting out of control.Â
He was tired of all the slander and crude remarks made about him and his family and his friends. He glared at the other boy while his nails dug into his palm, breaking the skin slightly. Donât say her name, Ted thought to himself. Just donât say her name, and we wonât have any problems here.Â
But of course, Ted didnât get what he wished, and as soon as Andromedaâs name came out of his mouth along with other vulgar words, Ted lunged for Lucius. He didnât care that Lucius could easily pull out his wand, he just wanted to prove a point. He may be a Muggleborn, a âmudblood,â but that didnât give anyone the right to bring the people closest to him into their problems.Â
Youâre not a killer. Donât stoop to their level, the voice of reason in the back of his mind spoke, but Ted ignored it.Â
Ted saw black, and he didnât know what he was doing. He pinned Lucius down, and he was on top. He couldnât stop, he didnât want to stop.Â
Youâre not a killer, it echoed in his head, but Ted pushed it back, not caring. He was going to prove a point. He had to prove a point.Â
He kept going until he finally snapped out of it. He crawled away from Luciusâs body, disgusted with himself. He didnât know if he was dead, and he couldnât bare to look up at it. His hands were shaking, and he could feel the vile rising up into his throat.
He didnât want to accept what he just did, but he had to. You are a killer, he thought to himself, feeling tears burning his eyes.
&&. ââ â LUCIUS MALFOY ; moodboard ! â ft. himself and ted tonks. â
M O O D B O A R D Â ; Â RELATIONSHIP B --
TED TONKS & LUCIUS MALFOY, WARY SOULS OF EACH OTHERS.
âMe, I donât care for the bloke -- dislike him even, and thatâs most attention Iâve ever given a muggleborn. After all, Iâve seen the way that prat looks at Andromeda, and Iâd no sooner rip him limb from limb if he even thought of touching her. I mean, you know, sheâs practically family. Too, Andyâs a pureblood, and heâs overstepping his boundaries. Yeah. He touches her, and I break him.â
&&. ââ â LUCIUS MALFOY ; moodboard ! â ft. himself and emma vanity. â
M O O D B O A R D Â ; Â RELATIONSHIP A --
EMMA VANITY & LUCIUS MALFOY, MONEYED YOUTH WITH NOTHING TO DO.
âEmma is a storm, and not in a beautifully poetic way. Sheâs temperamental and volatile and mean -- so bad for my pride sometimes, but I keep her around. Weâre both incredibly good looking people who know what they want, a great dynamic, Iâd say. And she may not know it, or call bullshit on me, but Iâm here for the prat. But really, when is Emma âKickassâ Vanity ever going to need saving?â
&&. ââ â LUCIUS MALFOY ; moodboard ! â ft. himself. â
M O O D B O A R D Â ; Â SIDE A --
STUBBORN AND AGGRESSIVE, Â SARCASTIC AND IMMATURE.
"Lucius Malfoy, his entire life, has been a little prat -- a wanker. Heâs just a spoilt rich boy with nothing to do but make everyone miserable. Yeah! Heâs bigoted, rude, greedy, hot headed, selfish -- oh! Right, I can stop now. Right.â
There were certain things he never thought heâd do, Lucius.Â
For example, he never thought heâd marry the most beautiful woman heâd ever met ( nor did he ever anticipate falling in love with her ), he never believed he would be the man to raise a family, to become a coward â it, too, was never in his plans. Yet, things had happened in his life that he never thought would.Â
Lucius didnât think he would have ever killed Acacio Fitch, but he did.
It was warm, on the day he died â cicadas buzzing, shades of flowers varied and bright, summer songs played through the creek-side reeds as the wind blew. Lucius had always loved the summer, especially the holiday of it when he had attended Hogwarts. Although, he hadnât the time to appreciate it much when war called him from comfort â a Death Eater now as he had become.Â
He was a servant â and oh, how the words did not befit him at all.Â
But he was, and they did, and it had been the exact reason for which he found himself in Willowâs End â wizarding suburbia, with malicious intent.Â
But a week prior, he had just turned twenty, and four months before that, married. Yes, Lucius was still, in many ways, a child -- first experiencing the world from beyond the cavernous walls of a manor or his academy, and even two years into his cause, he had not known death, ignorant of his solemn greetings.Â
But it was warm, on the day he first killed.
The house in which Acacio Fitch lived was modest, a porch hanging from its side -- perhaps, once, a vibrant white, but it had splintered and peeled over time, revealing the weather brown beneath. The lawn, even, was rather unkempt, with weeds and grass tickling the calves of his legs as he wadded across the property -- but the door was what really stood out to him, the fact that it had been unlocked. Yes, he had slipped right in, the man of an ebony black robe and cowl -- a face, swirls of black and white, shielded from his shame.
And inside, he noticed it rather empty -- emptied. Places where furniture once occupied was clear of dust, shapes in the ground that resembled those on the wall where also, various things had hung, and he had almost turned back. Yet, he had seen Acacio Fitch, sitting in a singular, lonely chair, and he was burdened with knowing that his former professor had heard him all this time -- unmoved.Â
Though, Lucius had always had a rather peculiar habit of making light of situations dire, such as this one, and this time had not exceeded that tendency as Lucius took a guilty step forward, wand drawn at his side.
âWell, Fitch, Iâd tell you that you donât have to look, but I think youâve got that one down,â he jeered, words not at all resembling a joke by the tone of his voice, both solemn and curt -- heavy on his tongue ( but Acacio had still smiled, a marriage of bitterness and amusement ).
He learned it would always be that way, killing -- never easy for him. And looking upon him in those seconds, seconds that seemed like hours, Lucius remembered his grudgingly built respect for the man he was to murder. Cold gray hues of his own caught hazel eyes, and greenâgreen striking the air and in the blinding light that hit Acacio Fitch square in the chest. And just like the bursts of light, Acacioâs life came to an end.
Though, as if their roles had been reversed, Lucius felt a fire in his chest, and not a victorious fire that burned brilliantly in his heart. It was one that scalded him, and made his throat go dry; and for a long time, Lucius remained there, plagued for the first time with a feeling of regret. And maybe that was when Lucius began to regain his humanity, or maybe it had been the precise moment he lost it.
âDetermined, arenât you?â How charming he was, but he was that way with almost everyone â wasnât he? Narcissa wouldnât give in to a pretty face with even prettier words even if they did flatter her. Merlin, she remembered when she was younger than she was now. wishing someone would be as charming to her, as almost princely but was far too smart to believe in those sort of fairytales anymore. He had to be this way â he had to be charming. Nothing genuine about it, Naricissa. âYouâre quite the sweet talker, arenât you?â She leaned in a bit, arching an eyebrow, âand a bit cheeky. Sarcastic as well. Interesting.â Truly, it was, and he was looking at her now â such an intent look on his face like he cared. âLucius the Incredibly Infatuated sounds much better, I will admit. If I ever have to hear you say âLucius âcool guyâ Malfoy again, Iâm not sure my poor, frail heart will be able to take it.â
âIncredibly so, love.â With Narcissa, he had found it was always quite hard to tell what she was thinking -- especially of him, and while sheâd occasionally assure him with a smile or furrowed brows, he typically remained clueless -- which frightened him. Because at times, he believed her flirty, a typical snake with all coy and snark and witty ( not that she wasnât always, but to a more intense degree ) -- times such as these, when she teased him as she did. Then, a flower seemed to better fit her other days, when it appeared that she were so delicate that she would break. Yes, that terrified him. âWait âtill you get me drunk, Narcissa. Iâm quite a nice, fuzzy drunk -- even more suave when intoxicated, Iâd day,â he teased, meeting her gaze evenly with gray hues of adoration, âhopefully that, and my intrigue, will be enough to keep me around? I even promise that I wonât dare speak another horrid nickname for myself ever again.â