Aimless Discovery (open)
A slight smile crossed her face as she walked, the solitude was refreshing. Being cramped up in that old house, silence was never an option. Delilah enjoyed it, savored it, being able to think. It was nice.
Twigs snapped moments before he appeared. Shady, male… Trouble. Her smile faded instantly, replaced firstly by shock, then a look of annoyance. He was alone, just a wanderer. Usually they’re harmless. The bark was always bigger than the bite.
She stopped walking and met his unsettling gaze with utter indifference. “Yes, you might as well scurry off to your master. Don’t want to get hurt. The forest is full of all sorts of nightmares at dark. Run along now.”
It was very unlikely that Amycus could easily be threatened. Not really. It wasn’t that he was fearless. (For Melin’s sake, he was a Snake, not a Lion for a reason) It was just that there was a part of his brain that seemed to have damaged his ability to even fully recognize danger. He barely saw anything as dangerous, not with a mind like his. Maybe because it was him; him as the personification of danger; the threat. Or something like it. If the girl in front of him meant what she said to be a threat, no matter how indifferent her tone may have been, he failed to recognize this threat or warning or… what ever it was.
To Amycus, at that very moment, she was just his next plaything. Whatever next remark she would make for him to go away, it would only draw him and provoke him. Besides, the hunt was much more fun when the prey fought back a little.
He licked his lips, burying his hand in his pocket as he stepped in forward. “Hmmm…” He began circling around her, slowly. “Now, why would I want to do that when I could have all the fun to myself here?”
(Source: lucydelarge)
(Source: jeeslees, via les-strange-bells)
Aimless Discovery (open)
She had snuck away from the Order, managing to evade the over-dramatic witches and wizards. Delilah had enough of their worrying. She was not a pawn, she was hardly on their side. It was just the lesser of two evils.
With a soft sigh, Delilah gracefully walked around, venturing out into the dimly lit town. It was almost sundown, although that didn’t matter much to her. The street was silent except for the quiet hum of crickets as she made her way into the forest.
Boredrom was never a good thing. It could make a sane person be driven to madness. It could drive a mad person into hysterics. And it could drive a hysterical person into the brink of insanity. The problem was that Amycus Carrow was bored. His sister was off doing what she does best - poisoning the minds of people in high places. That required too much patience and he was never one for patience anyway. Instead, he chose to spend his time that day with Dolohov, Mulciber, and Yaxley. There was a house just up the hill where a half blood family lived that Amycus and the other three have decided to pay a visit.
Just for the fun of it, they had given the family a thirty second head start before they ran after them. The chase is always fun. And the family, for some idiot reason, had decided to make their way into the forest.
“Come out, come out wherever you are!” Dolohov had shouted as he ran off to one direction. Yaxley followed him. Mulciber made his way and he, Amycus his own. They would cover more ground. This was a hunt - a game to pass time.
So, there he was, wandering aimlessly in the forest. It was getting darker and darker each minute. The game has only just begun. He turned around a corner and there he saw the figure of a girl. What was she doing in the forest, Amycus thought. Alone. Wandering around. It was like an invitation for trouble.
He stopped, in front of her, appearing almost out of nowhere. An evil grin spread across his face, his head tilted to the side. “Well, well, well,” he said. “And what do we have here? A lost puppy? Haven’t your mum and dad taught you not to wander off when it’s nearing night time?”
adieu to the fuckers | open - (i seek amy) {warning; torture}
Who the man was, Bella did not know. Nor did she care. He was just another one of Them, a bug beneath her feet to be stomped and cleaned away, erased. It was all the more offensive that they thought themselves their equals. It was a blessing to even allow them to be breathing the same air, one that they had long since abused. Her master was going to see to that, he was. And she was going to be at his side to do it. Everyone would understand, it was all for the greater good. They, like the old croon Dumbles, would have no choice but to accept it.
Or else she’d simply kill them, too.
Her curse had long since faded away, leaving a quivering, sobbing noise in place of the screams. It was almost as good, but she always preferred loud screams to dance to. Her steps, inelegant and clumsy on account of her lacking a shoe, eventually came to a tap-shuffling stop. A wobbly stop. She keened in annoyance and took off her other heel, flinging it into the depths of the room. The blood she stood in was still warm, still fresh. She sniffed the air, almost tasting the coppery-iron of blood.
Light flooded the room and Bellatrix’s head snapped to see who had walked in - who had interrupted her? Oh, it merely was Amycus. “Amy, Amy,” She sang, her head almost rolling onto her shoulder as she tilted it. “He’s one of the naughty ones.”
“From the sewers, course, Barty gave it to me.” She grinned as she fell to crouch next to the man, pulling him to her height by his hair. “Isn’t he just a doll?” Holding his chin, she angled the swollen face up.
Scum, yes. If there was any reason why and how that man on the floor, writhing in pain ended up the way he did at that very moment, it was because he was scum. His blood was filth, impure, dirty; spilling his blood would not be a waste at all. Pure blood - clean, untouched, unblemished blood - was precious. It could not be spilled, under any circumstance. This man, in front of him, was nothing more than dirt. But that… that did not matter to Amycus at all. Blood purity was blood purity and ever since a very young age, it had been instilled in his mind and in the mind of his sister that blood supremacy was their main concern. They grew up in walls built upon prejudices, of course, and when the Dark Lord began gathering his followers it was no surprise that he and his sister immediately joined.
But for Amycus, it was not the Dark Lord’s fanaticism in blood purity that drew him to joining. What attracted him the most was the violence. Unadulterated violence. Violence without boundaries. Violence out in the open. Violence, welcomed and not shunned.
Amycus tilted his head to the side as examined the bruised and beaten down man. He smirked, holding his wand out toward the man, pressing it hard against the man’s swollen cheeks. The man let out a small whimper.
“P-Please,” he stammered. He was dying, Amycus could tell and how pathetic it was that he would waste his last breath on begging for mercy. But that was just it, it was this pathetic plead for some pity, mercy, or anything close to it that drove Amycus to not give him what he was pleading for.
Why? That would just ruin all the fun.
“If I may, Bella,” he said, still pointing his wand at the man. “Please move aside.” At that, Amycus levitated the man’s body followed by a “Crucio.” Now the man was twisting and turning and screaming as he squirmed in pain as he hung in mid air.
(Source: multicoloredtimeline)
adieu to the fuckers | open - (i seek amy) {warning; torture}
Bellatrix was a mess. Her hair was mussed, what make-up she wore smudged, her robe was ripped, and her bare foot hovered barely an inch off of the ground. Her shoe was gone.
But none of that was important. What was, was the blood that slicked her arms, moisturised her neck, stained her robes and dyed her hand and wand. Not to mention the gleeful grin that spilt her face in two.
Blood smeared across Amycus’ face, as a sly grin formed. He heard the familiar sound of Bellatrix’ laughter from a distance - she was happy, Amycus realized, and there, he knew that there must be a reason for it. He knew right there and then as he walked, stumbling with his feet that Bellatrix Lestrange had fresh meat; she had a new play thing. Oh, Bella. Amycus was high with adrenalin right now. He had just finished doing a ‘job’ for the Dark Lord - a random, dirty killing of the innocent muggleborn shoppe owner, just another one… he was nothing special, another nameless kill - when he apparrated back to the new headquarters for the Death Eaters.
There was a crack, as he appeared in the sitting room of the abandoned house that they have infiltrated for their own purposes. The walls empty, skeleton walls clad in faded wallpaper vibrated with Bellatrix Lestrange’s maniac laughter. Staggering with one foot after another, Amycus followed the sound - a hahahahahaha and a thump, thump, thump as Bellatrix laughed and danced.
Pushing the door open, there he saw the writhing, bloody body of a man. A burning, thrilling, exciting, inexplicable feeling rushed through his veins. It was a different sort of adrenalin - more palpitating, more alive.
“Bella, Bella,” he said as he entered the room. “What do we have here?” he said, eyeing the barely conscious man on the floor. After a few moments, he turned his gaze to Bellatrix. “Where, may I ask, did you get this new plaything?”
(Source: selfproclaimedtylerdurden)
(Source: hello-mis-ter)
(Source: brilliantsick)
