Belle hadn’t expected the interruption. It’d been a relatively quiet evening, and she’d been left to her own devices. Sipping the butter beer as she listened to the hustle and bustle of the crowd behind her. The bartender checked in periodically, to see if she needed a freshening up of her drink or wanted a new one alltogether. She was on her second of the evening, and wondered how long she’d last before tapping out and returning to an empty apartment. She didn’t mind the peace, more often than not she found solace in it- but this evening, the thought of being home alone with nothing but her demons was too overwhelming.
“No, I’m sorry to disappoint.” Isabelle replied with a small smile, not really sure who the man was that was talking to her but trying to remain polite nonetheless. “Do I? I hope that’s a good thing?”
He did not let himself settle too comfortably into any one position, not even when he was standing. Perhaps it had been some level of time since he had been home for he could not even recognize that someone was not his one tolerable sibling. Perhaps he should be grateful it was not Viola or else he’d have to find more than one way to speak to her without giving away his disinterest in whatever was doing, even if it would be something brilliant. Perhaps having a drink with her would be just as insufferable as it would without his father...or Merlin forbid his grimalkin of a mother. “It can be, most would consider her lovely looking.” He made the marks of a grin, knowing the bar was full and that pubs were an awful place to have a gripe. “But you are likely much taller and I am...I am assuming not named Viola by most instances.” Fingers drummed for a moment, not sure where to place the woman before him, she seemed too meek to be of any use anywhere. No recognizable features to connect her to a family either.... “Do you get mistaken often? For any other person I mean of course.”
she was surprised by his question, but in hindsight, maybe her standing rooted in place for so long somehow gave off the wrong idea. of course, it could have looked like she was studying the hourglass, maybe making some mental notes. “no, mulciber, you need to get a hold of someone else, they are over there,” she answered bluntly and pointed, but soon her hand dropped down again as no one was behind the till. “oh, i could have sworn they were there before.” she shifted her feet awkwardly. ophelia recognised sebastian from school, but they had not been friends nor ever spoken. she had actively attempted to stay away from the slytherins and gryffindors, not wanting to get caught up in their obvious feud. “i guess i am here quite often, so do you need help with anything?” she asked without knowing why she would even offer, but the words had already been spoken.
Noticing that the store was otherwise empty and that he had no attachment or need for this person made it much easier for Sebastian to drop the customer act. If the shop owner was nowhere to be found, then his intended actions did not have to completely go to waste. But he would have to act fast, as there would be no need to do the same to...it was Greyson wasn’t it? Ophelia Greyson. Former Hogwarts student of no interest to him. But this could at least be a collection. “Nothing you would be able to assist in, not your type of work I would presume.” There was no point in hiding it, but no point in giving away too much to her - not unless he knew more. “Not really here to purchase anything you see. And you find yourself here often because....?” Let her fill in the blanks.
mary was drowning in work, more papers flying to her desk the moment she’d just send new ones out. it was an endless cycle of avoiding paper cuts and calling owls over, but she loved it, oddly enough. for the time being, at least. she was so invested in whatever she was working on that she didn’t even notice someone was speaking to her — that was, until the voice was almost recognizable. face shooting up to get a view, mary was disappointed. mostly because the man didn’t look familiar at all, even if his voice was. ❛ um, yes — quite obvious, don’t you think ? ❜ would she dare ask ? ❛ do i. . . ❜
Her face changed so suddenly, he didn’t have the moment to appreciate what he hoped might have been a moment of fright. Sebastian would have photographed it, the memento for the moment he managed to prove himself. If he had to go through the struggle of actually acting out for someone, then he assumed he deserved a little more than a girl with some trauma. “Sorry, there.” His grin actually came across quite naturally, like it would if he were dressing in the mirror. “Sebastian Mulciber, from International Magical Office of Law,” his head referred back again quite naturally, politely, “I’ve been sent to retrieve some of what I’m guessing is on your desk. Things too important for the owls or the mail chutes these days.” If only he were sympathetic enough to that, rather than having found some senseless paperwork a little intern had no idea what to do with. “I can help if you, ” A chuckle, keeping the grin, “it’s not as overwhelming as you think. Sorry, your name is....”
“I can’t tell if you are joking or not,” Ted admitted with a chuckle then shook his head. “But that may be a decent idea. Even better if I could rope my kid into doing the impression instead.” He was feeling unusually chatty that morning despite feeling as though he hadn’t slept a reasonable amount.
“Truthfully hoping it doesn’t come down to requiring a ‘proper’ explanation but I suppose I can appreciate the Ministry’s wanting to prepare just in case.” He paused to get a proper glimpse at Sebastian then tilted his head. “Have things been busy in your department as well?”
Sebastian figured he could at least appreciate the ambiguity he seemed to be presenting to the other young man. But then suddenly mentions of children and small just gave him a headache. Too bad they weren’t more secluded as he was sure this could be a much more fun situation if he could toy with his words a little bit more. Being in public could truly be a hindrance. “Enjoy the bureaucracy.” He commented once more, taking a sip of tea. In a way he did enjoy it, a relatively mundane thing that one needed to be very clever to avoid. “Probably, I have not had a complain on my work.
A hand out of the corner of her eye alerting her that she was no longer alone, Narcissa glanced up to see the familiar face that now stood by her. When she had first sat down, she most certainly wasn’t looking for any kind of company, but she could, and would, always make time for those who shared similar views to her own. “What, from this rag? Absolutely not.” She replied with a chuckle, shaking her head. Folding up her copy of the Prophet, Narcissa tossed it down on to the small table before continuing. “I stopped believing that I’d actually learn something from the newspapers years ago, and todays is another that won’t convince me to reconsider that opinion.”
Even in his seat, he found something uncomfortable about acting this natural, by others’ standards at least. Of course, dropping the act around Narcissa would not make much of a difference. She either wouldn’t notice, or wouldn’t care. For her sake, he hoped it was the latter. “Then, it’s more shameful that you’re still reading it.” It was impossible to find a way to respect someone who’s words did not reflect their actions. And for something as simple as a newspaper, the man expected much better for who she was meant to be. Yet, he was civil, fingers drumming lightly on the table to give him the pause he needed to locate collected words. “And yet you read it for what? Looking for some hope that thing will redeem itself given the journalists it does hire?”
“Is this the administrative office?.’ It was all a little too perfect. Her just standing there, halfway through some pointless and likely mindless action when he opened the door. “Assuming, I’ve made my way to the right floor.” Innocent enough. @mugglebvrn
WHERE: The Three Broomsticks
WHEN: July 2nd; evening
WHO: Open to Anyone
Some days, Isabelle deviated from her usual route home to a place of warmth and familiarity. Not from her past life, but to a world she wished she’d belonged to. It was cozy inside, perched at the counter with her hands wrapped around a pint of butterbeer- the hardest stuff she drank, as she listened to the joyous banter sounding around her. Belle mostly remained a fly on the wall, out of sight and out of mind for most people- it’s how she got by, how she’d kept away from the life she’d run from for so long… but she couldn’t resist settings like this. Couldn’t help but love the feeling like she belonged to something bigger, something better. Just by being present, just by taking it all in…
Which is what she was doing when a figure slipped into the chair beside her…
He’d been expecting someone else, another type of call. Busy pubs were usually fair meeting points when slipping to Borgin and Burke’s meant dealing with the haggard old crone who like to follow him down Knockturn Alley. Sebastian figured anyone else would be scared...that perhaps she’d seen something, yet that would make him proud. But he knew, she was just an old hag who enjoyed pestering everyone. And besides, this place did hold one or two fond memories for its existence, otherwise he’d have the place razed the moments the Death Eaters could start planning more attacks on wizarding villages...but this close to Hogwarts...this close to the Aurors was still much too soon. But he was determined to lead it when the time came.
Right...back to where he was sitting. “You are not Viola. Apologies, I’ll go.” He gathered himself by the robes again. “You do look quite like her...my sister.” The least stupid of their siblings, but it did not say much.
open starter / wiseacre’s wizarding equipment, diagon alley
ophelia had gone to the equipment store to buy new supplies, her stock running low after weeks of experimentation which had resulted in broken instruments. however, halfway through the shop, something caught her eye on the shelves in the back, hiding in a dark corner. she drew closer and stared intensely at a fancy hourglass, forgetting everything around her as her violet eyes were locked onto the sand slowly piling up at the bottom. there had been an hourglass in her latest vision. it had been many months ago, but few parts of it still were incredibly vivid in her mind. she had seen a grey potion bubbling in a strange cauldron too, but the focus had definitely been a golden hourglass with shockingly white sand with a silvery gleam. “i may be lost in my thoughts, but i can still feel you staring at me,” ophelia suddenly piped up, not even bothering to look up as she turned the hourglass. the raven-haired witch could feel a presence near her, their stare burning into her skin. “if you want your fortune told, i suggest you look elsewhere.” curiosity got the better of her, and she finally diverted her gaze from the hourglass to look at the looming figure.
This should be quick, but it would be better if he had an idea who he was meeting. Surely, the International Magical Office of Law was boring, however the slightest indication that something was awry on the borders was a flag to let Sebastian know he could take advantage of the situation. It was a simple message to carry, that things crossing the border for sale could easily be looked away from given the right price or offer. Even if it was something he could offer up to certain power...it would be to his benefit. But alas, the shop was nearly empty. Or so he thought until he happened upon another figure. Great, now it was time to play the polite card. He had that face on all day at work, it was exhausting and none of them deserved that kindness. “Excuse me,” lips pulled into a tight smile. “Are you the owner? Do you work here?”
“You’ve always been the one with patience between us,” Amycus shrugged, “maybe you should have been a Hufflepuff.” It was a rude remark, one he didn’t even mean, though riling up his friend was one of his favorite pass times. He hummed, nodding his head in acceptance of Sebastian’s words. He supposed that he was much less fun when he was focused on his actual job, at least in some respects. He certainly wouldn’t be making a drunken fool of himself anytime soon, even if he would consider it a great personal failure if the night didn’t end with him being featured in witch weekly for his troubles.
“You’ll miss my smiling face at the pub? Buy me a drink then.” He bumped the man’s shoulder before turning to once again scan the crowd. “They really do let anyone in here, don’t they? He complained dryly, his eyes rolling as he took another drink. “Makes me a bit sick, honestly. So many mixed blood witches wandering about as if they belong.” He scoffed, “but they’re good for a quick shag, don’t you think?”
Sebastian didn’t dignify him with an answer. Amycus really should know better by now, that Sebastian wasn’t going to put on the friendly act for his friend. He respect the boy, there was no need for the fuss of pretending to find what others said to be funny. Perhaps he should go up to the bar and save himself the trouble. No, he was sat here now and that would seem endlessly needy of him. His eyes shifted back, cueing into the fact that Amycus was still talking. Good for him for at least having the dedication to it.
“You’ll have to be more convincing.” Frankly, whoever was in here did not make a difference to Sebastian the way it seemed to bother Amycus. He was so easily bothered. “The fact that this is what you wish to dicuss makes me think you’ve been trying to justify shagging off, as you call, with a muggleborn as it is. What’s the matter Amycus? Can’t bring her home to father? Or are you afraid the press will find you both behind the quidditch pitch.” Lips turned to grin, almost sadistically. “Worse for wear then, can’t take flighty players seriously.”
Amycus hummed into the lip of his glass, the dragon barrel brandy swishing in his glass shining unnaturally under the light as his eyes scanned the inn. It was already busy and soon he was sure he would see an acceptable companion to share in the rest of his bottle, though the wait was already making him testier than normal. He could hear the shrill voice of a drunk girl he knew to be a mudblood from across the inn and the desire to just…
He took a deep breath, turning back to the bar and downing his glass before gesturing for a refill and then again for the bottle to be left as well. Tonight would be the last time he would drink for months and he was hoping to make the most of it seeing as he was fully intending on making it all the way to the world cup with the team they had this year. The pressure was mounting, sure, but he could handle anything and the prospect of the signing bonus he would receive after having a world title under his belt was enough to make him only passingly sad that he wouldn’t drink again until the victory champagne hit his tongue.
He had other vices to indulge in its absence anyway.
He turned toward the figure suddenly blocking his light, his eyebrow rising as his face relaxed into the almost aimlessly harmless half grin he usually wore. He had been told it was rather disarming as a boy and hadn’t stopped wearing it since. “Are you trying to wave down the barman?” he asked, “Because you’ll never do it if you keep being as timid as you are.”
“He’ll see me when he’s ready.” Sebastian pulled his robes a little tighter over his waist as he sat himself across from the dark haired friend, entertainment shining into usually piercing eyes as he took in the sight before him. It would not be much longer until Amycus would be falling off his chair, a wonderfully funny sight as well for as far back as Sebastian could recall.
He’d have a drink in a few moments as well. But for now, he wanted to take a look over his friend in amusement. It did not take much to know why tonight of all nights the fellow was indulging this way. Sebastian could almost admire the dedication to the one craft. “I know you too well to see this as a celebration,” this was a farewell for now it seemed. Quidditch season starting meant, Amycus would not be his usual self - well not as Sebastian liked him to be. “Did you factor in a hangover day?”
It was far too early to function, Ted stifling back a yawn before lifting a mug of coffee to his lips and downing the last of the beverage with a satisfied sigh. His breakfast was a rather meager meal but the caffeine had been the necessary part in making sure he made it through the day without feeling as though he couldn’t properly do his job. Brown eyes scanned over the most recent article about the rumored inferi sighting. Surely it had to be the reason why he was being called into work two and a half hours before he usually made an appearance. Nothing else had happened.
Ted wrinkled his nose then set the paper down, needing a moment to finish what was left of his breakfast. He cast a glance at the only other occupant in the Ministry’s cafeteria and sighed. “Early morning crew as well?” He asked. “D’you think the muggles would take ‘the town drunk pretending to be a zombie’ as a reasonable explanation if they end up as the next ones with a possible sighting?”
Going to the cafeteria for breakfast had to be about the most plebeian thing that Sebastian could muster himself to do, but that little house elf up in his attic had a habit of adding just too much cinnamon to everything. He was absolutely sick of it, cinnamon did not belong on steak. As usual, there would be little for him to do all day. And whatever there was to do, would be delegated out among his inferiors.
Yet, the place was scarce in terms of other employees that morning, meaning his entertainment would be meager at best. From behind a hot mug of tea, lips smirked at the attempted excuse. “Oh certainly, and then you can put on a display of how drunk the drunk was.” Just stupid enough for them all to believe, not like it took much anyway.
WHERE: Florean Fortescue’s, Diagon Alley
WHO: Narcissa & OPEN
Sipping on her recently ordered cup of tea, Narcissa’s eyes scanned over the pages of this mornings Daily Prophet. News of the Inferi sightings had already reached her before she’d had the chance to read the article herself, but she wasn’t about to let it ruin her plans for the day. The weather was nice, and she wanted to get out of the house for at least a few hours, so had made her way down to Diagon Alley for a look around.
With the streets being a little quieter than normal, it was easy for the witch to get a table outside the ice cream parlour where she could sit and enjoy the sun while she read.
A ministry job paid well, that was really all there was to it. And the benefit of having a good, but nothing title meant that responsibilities barely fell to him. An owl or two sent to the magical ministers in france and hungary, and he was about as good for his job as he needed to be. And nobody would dare question his business when he stepped out of the ministry offices into diagon alley. Nearby, he knew the streets were quiet, and tamed as they should be. Out here people were just too stupid to manage themselves, but at least nobody could think that of him. A blonde head looked about familiar, and good. Narcissa was the type of person who should be out on these cobbled streets. With grin, his hand rested on the table. “All that reading,” Sebastian began, “do you think any more has really been added to your knowldege?”
Is that SEBASTIAN MULCIBER stepping out into Diagon Alley? Ministry records tell us that they were born on SEPTEMBER and are a 24 year old, PUREBLOOD who works as an ASSOCIATE for the INTERNATIONAL MAGICAL OFFICE OF LAW. Some have said that they can be described as being ERUDITE, PERCEPTIVE & CONVINCING, however, they also see themselves as being IMPERTINTENT, UNBALANCED & UNHINGED. Apparently, HE look(s) a lot like FREDDY CARTER, whoever that is, and if they had to pick a side in the war, they would choose to JOIN THE DEATH EATERS.
Name: Sebastian Decius Mulciber
Born: September 2
Wand: TBA
Patronus: TBA
Blood Status: Pureblood
name origin: Sebastian - Viola’s Brother in 12th Night. Decius - A conspirator to stab Julius Ceasar. Mulciber - Sounds scary
occupation: Associate for the The International Magical Office of Law
affiliation: Death Eater
The most manipulative man you’d ever met in your life.
Sebastian did not need to be the favorite child. He never even tried to be. The boy needed no validation in any part of his life. He just needed to let everyone else know what he aspired to, and often it did not take him many words to be convincing.
Greatness, put simply
Slytherin House was a given, but he did request it from the Sorting Hat anyways. And he did so loudly, they should all know.
A social butterfly, surprisingly. A winning smile and charming tone could apparently get you anywhere, and it all took him little to no effort. In crowds he was center, a star, bright and lean. But in private, where he felt power shifts the most something else would happen.
Alone is where he needed to assert dominance. Controlling a crowd was a simple enough with the generic words that would rally people up. That was simple enough when it came to quidditch, he learned. Merlin, in a group he was just invincible. Having important and wealthy parents was just a bonus to that for Sebastian.
But alone, if he wants you to really know him, then he will be sure of it. You see the thing is…Sebastian gets bored. He just gets bored so damn quickly, that the first little thing in the room in front of him must become the object of entertainment. Watching somebody squirm is just too delightful.
That was until he was the one squirming. The Death Eaters was the first time he wanted something, and he’d have no qualms on proving himself worthy just because he wanted to. Part of Sebastian thought he could even turn it down if they did ask him to join. The pride he would feel. But not even in all his mite did he think the Dark Lord would let him leave if even to just to upstage the likes of Avery’s, Rosiers, and Lestranges
And didn’t Mary MacDonald learn that the hard way. He recognized her, almost. Just a child when he was leaving school. Now all grown up, and loud. A lovely target. His meal ticket.
But he could not leave it as just a one time thing in Knockturn Alley. No, not much later he watched the concussed girl asleep in St. Mungos:
“Miss Mary Mac
All Dressed in Black
With Bloody Drips
All Down Her Back”
Wonderful.
Sebastian does not expect the world to just fall into his lap. No, course not. Essentially, because it is already there. He’d inherit everything as soon as he could, take his shares of the family estate because he wanted them now. And if need be, then a little silver tongue could surely ensure that a less that weary sibling would just fork over whatever was theirs if it could offer them protection.
Sebastian could read people. And that was almost the most fun of it all. With a few glances it was just simple to see if they were rich, poor, dumb, intelligent, what they wanted the most and what they wanted to talk about the least.
He’d make a great politican, but let’s all be glad that is not where his interests lie in reality. His day job is just day job. And his actual interests may be worst.
Facts:
- He has a few siblings, and he does not think highly of all of them. His parents intend to split their wealth among their children as they grow older. However, Sebastian has some other plans to get it much sooner.
- Sebastian was not really a party boy, he’s just very good within a crowd. He can adapt to that energy, mimic it even.
- His attention does not flit around. When he wants to bother with something, he will see it through to the point that it seems excessive. For him, the obsession is in watching others react and then ultimately have no way out but through whatever he would allow.
Inspo: idk maybe Thomas Shelby? A Disney Villain? Dexter Morgan’s Brother from Season 1? Inventing this man concerns me personally.
Plots Here because he does not deserve a page.
- Sibling- I want her named Viola
- Slytherin cronies - This man is a natural born leader and likes to manipulate a crowd.
- Betrothal/ OR ACTUALLY MARRIED NOW IMAGINE - So I think he would be down for the betrothal. He would have been involved in the selection and it can go a few ways. He high key might pick them just so he can get inside their head and just do his mental torture thing. He would love to have one specific person he could just bother for the rest of his life in his mentally sadistic freakshow brain.
- Flings/Hookups - This can be anyone. He just wouldn’t expect them to be clingy, that’s not his thing.
