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[temporarilydistracted]

Kill of the Night || Vulcan and Alice, August 29th 1:00pm

August 29th, 1:00pm Department of Magical Law Enforcement Interrogation Room Ministry of Magic

Alice didn't much like being late.

Some of the other men liked to play with their food. This she could understand. It wasn't often that Junior Aurors 'earned' the right to toy with a suspect, but Alice had risked her life as Bellatrix Lestrange and brought in a Death Eater of her own in one fell swoop-- this man, this Vulcan Mulciber, was to be her prize. She hadn't orchestrated enough interrogations of her own to have adopted a particular style that she favoured over others. But to keep Vulcan waiting in the hopes that it would make him nervous was stupid and a complete waste of her time. Somehow Alice knew instinctively that she'd be penned as too nervous to find her balls and head inside than have the waiting game be identified as a tactic. It didn't matter much to her either way. Vulcan was hers, and while Crouch had only approved her because he knew Vulcan would be near impossible to crack, it hardly meant Alice wouldn't try. 

She had no idea what to expect of him as she was escorted down the hall to his door. For this too was a test, to venture into unknown waters and allow her betters to gauge how she fared. She was dressed as she always was-- no jewellery save for a small pair of her mother's pearls tucked into either ear, nothing particularly notable about her clothing save for the fact that it was undeniably that of a woman. She eschewed the typical leather trenchcoat and heavy robes in favour of well-fitted professional attire. To hide herself behind a cloak felt like a stab against her sex. She chose instead to emphasize the unquestionable femininity of her tiny body; skirts, tights, little black pumps. There was nothing lazy about Alice Longbottom, and there was rarely so much as a hair out of place on her level head. Although this opened unspeakable opportunities for idiots to bring attention to the fact that she did not, how strange, possess a cock, she had long ago realized that it was their responsibility to get used to having a woman on equal footing, and not a lick was it hers to conform or ease that transition by concealing the body that was so obviously not masculine. Little jabs about not snagging her tights or can you run in those heels, Longbottom, went with little more notice than a dangerous blink of cold blue eyes. 

Little jabs such as the disrespectful peal of laughter Vulcan's guard had released when learning it was little Alice and Alice alone who would be interrogating his prisoner. He had leered at her, vapid gaze slipping from head to toe, not needing words to loudly question the orders they'd both been given. She hadn't given him the satisfaction of stooping to his level, standing blank-faced and empty-eyed in the face of his silent taunts. Yes, Vulcan was both enormous and terrifying-- but Alice was a personal testament to size mattering so little when it came to intimidating others. This idiot of a guard was nothing more than further incentive for her to push herself harder towards success. 

So she found herself already bubbling quietly with anger as the guard unlocked the door, allowing her to step into the room and closing it behind her. A large mirror covered one wall. Alice had no doubts that the men would have taken bets-- not for the first time-- regarding who would crack first: the criminal or the little bitch who bit off more than she could chew. While she and Vulcan were the only ones inside, they were undoubtedly not alone. "Mr. Mulciber," she said quietly and clearly, voice disarmingly even. "Good afternoon."