ameetingofepicproportion `bella`rodolphus

[voldemort]

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[atrb=background,http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0LrieXI5go0/TaAzFWd3KZI/AAAAAAAACeg/R4CsvfTJXcI/s1600/black-wallpaper.jpgY] Triumph, the pleasure of the kill, the thrill of his pureblood company. The night was yet still young, and the rising Lord had somewhere to be. As he moved about his room, his eyes trailed over what he would soon be wearing. A suit fit perfect for his ever thinning frame. He was still rather handsome, though the darkness seemed to be taking over. His dark eyes, ever so mysterious and illusive, were fading now to a lighter color, though why the darkness was not spreading from his original color to an even darker depth was anyone’s guess. He hardly cared, though the blueness of his eyes were almost frightening, being so very bright. Of course, some days they would be gray, sometimes green, other times white. Strange, but nothing too horrible to worry about. Other things were in need of more attention. As he pulled his shirt up and over his head, he moved to a body length mirror, looking over his torso. His veins were much more visible, his ribs much easier to make out among the muscles of his stomach. He was growing thinner and thinner, something that worried no one but himself, as no one had noticed yet. His legs, his arms, his hands and his finger, and especially his face, were becoming more refined, more gaunt in their appearance, more skeletal. Voldemort looked for only a second longer, the dim light casting shadows over his form before he moved to his bed where his clothing was laid out. He proceeded to cloth himself in an elegant suit, something hardly recognized by most wizards. However, the occasion called for it, as most of his followers would be in the same sort of clothing. It was a night for celebration, for new things and for, above all, a good time. He once again stood before the mirror, his hands smoothing the fabric of his jacket. He was rather tall, and though becoming frailer, he still retained a certain way of looking strong and secure in how he stood, how he moved and how he spoke. The pinstriped black fit well over the dark gray of his shirt, the pants hugging, but not tight. His shoes were shined to perfection, and his wand was comfortably tucked into the pocket of his jacket. Doing up the buttons, he took one final look to straight the hair on his head. Dark and, though receding, still rather full, his ran a hand through the mess and called it fine. No need to look as though he was taking any special measures to look nice. After all, before long, he wouldn’t even look human. It was almost an unfortunate thought, but then again, look hardly mattered after power had been acquired. It was only a matter of moments from when he had stepped from his small apartment and into the even smaller hallway before the Lord was directly in front of a much rather building, a home that he knew well. Inside would be several death eaters, a few new people he hoped to recruit, and several opportunities for an enjoyable encounter. He would demand utter respect, but he wasn’t beyond himself to disallow a bit of fun to circulate among those that were his followers. His tolerance for stupidity of any sort was naturally lower than most, and he wouldn’t have much rough housing, but a very curt jokes about mudbloods, perhaps a bit of talk about the opposition, even entertainment if the host had gone so far as too plan it. However, the main purpose of the night was the gain a few new members. In total, there were six people inside of this house that would be on his list of to-gets. Arriving fashionably late, he rapped his knuckles against the dark wood of the front door. A moment passed before a small house elf answered the door. Instinctively, the head was bowed with respect and the Dark Lord moved inside. The weather would seem be windy and cold, but not for some time. The house elf attempted to show him to the others, but was pushed against by a flick of Voldemort’s wrist. He did not need directions from a filthy elf. His long legs carried him to a doorway, were he stood for a moment before strolling him. As he entered, the atmosphere changed and the previous shouting and laughing dropped to a low murmer. His pace was slow, calm, confident in their destination. As he rounded the corner of the table, the chair was pulled with invisible hands, and he took a seat. His eyes scanned over the assembled, tracing over the new faces, before he lowered his eyes to the table, a confident smirk and a narrowing of his eyes. ”Shall we take a seat then? I find that a bit of business before hand always sets up for a lovely party afterwards.”

[bellatrix]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://i51.tinypic.com/15gpkcx.png); padding-bottom: 20px;] words // 595 // outfit // clicky // tagged // Tom Riddle the noble black princess, - C O M E T O D A N C E W I T H T H E H U S B A N D , H E Y ! - Bellatrix Lestrange . . . Lestrange. Her last name still sent shivers down her spine, her eyes casting loving glances at her husband. The two of them stood in their room, rushing around to finish getting ready for the party tonight. Bellatrix stood, looking into a full-length mirror, her eyes staring at her vulnerable, half-naked form. Her skin was pale, at least in comparison to Rodolphus’. The witch’s hands rose to fiddle with her hair, placing the abundant curls atop her head, allowing them to spill around her face and neck. A small, genuine smile crept across her face as she caught her husband, still in his boxers, run across her mirror. Reaching over, she grabbed her dress that she had picked out weeks ago, colored green simply out of habit. Her make-up had already been done for quite some time now, and all that was left was to complete the outfit. Fitting on black high heels and leggings, she continued to stare at herself in the mirror. Bellatrix had never been one to be extremely vain, however tonight had to be the exception. She not only had to look good to uphold to wonderful standing of the Lestrange family, but the noble Black family as well. Twirling, the woman watched as her husband finished buttoning up his suit, something both foreign and appropriate for such a celebratory night. Walking over, she slipped her arm in his and signaled it was time to leave. It wasn’t a long walk between the Lestrange Manor and the Rookwood home, but seeing as they were late, Bellatrix flashed her husband and herself down the street, landing unsteadily on her heels in front of the grand building. Rodolphus caught her, laughing lightly as he did so. The two quickly made their way to the door, her mood quickly changing as her knocking went unnoticed. The sound inside the house was rather quiet, something was worried the young witch. It was a force, she could tell, that had entered the party, however she didn’t have a clue as to who could cause such a disturbance. Her thoughts quickly snapped back to the door as it clicked and opened, a little house elf looked up at her. Her temper flared immediately as she shoved the door open, flinging the thing back against the wall. No one noticed. No one cared. ”Rodolphus,” she spoke, her voice still very young and bold with dignity. ”I believe that we are late, my love.” Pulling him inside, the young Bella hurried her way over to the grand ballroom. It wasn’t quite as big as most, but it was elegant and held several people within it. Entering under quieter conditions didn’t bother her at all, opening the doors and walking in confidently. Several heads turned to see the intruder, only to nod once and return to whomever they were talking to. With Rodolphus in tow, Bellatrix made her way over to a table, the heels already hurting her feet. Bloody things. Once they had sat down, she turned to view the assorted guests of the evening, one in particular drawing her eye. She watched as he sat, speaking to others in a tone too quiet for her to hear. Eventually she yanked her gaze away from him, he being too far away to actually be viewed properly. It wasn’t long before a song started, and the wedded couple rose up to dance, spinning elegantly across the floor. Rodolphus and Bellatrix both came from prestigious families, in which learning to dance was a natural part of growing up. notes // the somewhat loving relationship between bella and rodolphus was made up purely for the past

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TEMPLATE BY KHRISTIAN OF CAUTION 2.0, LYRICS BY IRON & WINE[/center]

[voldemort]

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[atrb=background,http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-0LrieXI5go0/TaAzFWd3KZI/AAAAAAAACeg/R4CsvfTJXcI/s1600/black-wallpaper.jpgY] Entering late wasn’t tolerated, but the Dark Lord wouldn’t allow such strong wizards to be scared off by his anger at their lack of timing. He hardly let the others that had no gathered around him to notice, simply continuing to speak, hardly letting his dark now lightening eyes to sneak a quick glance at them. He hardly noticed the beauty of the woman, though he did notice that she was above average, and could be far from the mark of most others, if he had time to examine her further. However, he had a few goals to accomplish before the week was out, and those goals would be accomplished by those now gathered around the table, leaning into hear, though showing much respect. He spoke softly, a calm spreading through the others, though they hardly noticed. As their assignments were given to them, hardly easy in any aspect, they suddenly found themselves sure that they could do whatever their Lord of Darkness asked them to. He had seeped into their minds, filling their heads with false hopes and odd pretenses. He simply smiled, shooing them off to ‘enjoy the party and discover their fun loving side, before the week truly started.’ As he sat in his throne at the head of his table, he looked over those before him, his eyes penetrating into their very essence, discovering their weaknesses, their strengths. For most, he already knew the answers to his questions, he simply meant to keep himself updated and aware of what he was doing. He stood, his mind still wandering through the heads of others, through their loyalties and their secrets. No one held secrets for long in this man’s company, and very few kept treachery long, before getting punished, or worse. As he began to stride forward, elegance and strength presented to those that dared watch him closely. As he narrowed his search on a few other the new comers, he found himself examining a young woman, newly married, very beautiful and very strong in her magical abilities. He smiled, though let his search for no further, he would let the song end and he would soon be at her side, asking her and her husband a few simple questions, allowing their hunger for power to overlap any sense of worry and wonder at this man’s future goals. After all, few of the people who followed him actually knew his main goal. As the music ended, another starting but for some reason that only the Dark Lord knew, was softer and seemed to have faded into the background, he stepped forward, quickly approaching the two on his tall, strong legs. He hardly smiled, but rather put on a smirk that hardly held any comfort, just enough to have something of a welcoming quality. As they got closer, he stopped. He’d made eye contact, made the intention of speaking, but allowed them to come to himself, something commonly practiced within the presence of this evil over lord. He get his eyes widen a bit, trying to detract from the look he seemed to adopt that pushed people away, rather than welcoming them into his presence. He didn’t want to scare these potential Death Eaters, beyond what would allow them to join him.

[rodolphus]

s h o u ld i g i v e u p o r s h o u l d i

just keep chasing pavements even though it

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[atrb=width,240] The recently married Rodolphus hurriedly trying to get dressed while running around the master bedroom in his boxers. He went over to his closet to decide on which dress robes would impress their gracious hosts. It was thanks to Rodolphus' lack of decision that was the reason for them being late. Normally he would be on time but today his mind seemed scattered all over the place. He looked at his beautiful new bride. She radiated the very essence of pureblood nobility. He didn't want to shame her by not looking his best. Rodolphus buttoned up his best suit custom-made for him overseas. He took the arm of his blushing bride Bella. The two happily married young couple walked to the Rookwood home. A place just as elegant as his very own so there was nothing out of the ordinary for two well dressed purebloods to head to a place like this. Rodolphus held her hand tight as they walked inside being escorted now by a lowly house elf, He had to restrain himself from kicking the wretched creature. Rodolphus noticed that for a party it was awfully quiet as if a very commanding presence had stepped inside moments before. He disappoiner however that their presence wasn't greeted with same respect and dignity. "You know Bella My love, I think you are right. It's all my fault I couldn't decide what to wear." Rodolphus admitted Sheepishly. Bella had dragged mister Lestrange to an empty table near the way back. This made Rodolphus a little upset because he wanted to hear what the speaker was saying. Rodolphus leaned forward trying so hard to hear this man who was speaking with such authority. The only problem was they were so far away he couldn't hear a thing. Rodolphus did however notice that every so often the speaker would look at the guests in the room, with such a stare that it looked like he was reading the thoughts and intentions of everyone in the room. Suddenly, Music started playing and to Rodolphus this signaled the end of the speech he had so wanted to hear. He was sitting there contemplating approaching the man he to ask what he had talked about, when suddenly Bellatrix took Rodolphus' hand and the two of them took to the dance floor and began dancing divinely. He knew those strict dance lessons were paying off.

[atrb=width,100] words , 394 tagged , Bella, Lord Voldemort notes , I highly appreciate the Honor of being able to joins this scene when it was originally meant for Bella alone.

TEMPLATE BY THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE MIKEY @ CAUTION 2.0

[bellatrix]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://i51.tinypic.com/15gpkcx.png); padding-bottom: 20px;] words // 449 // outfit // clicky // tagged // Tom Riddle &Ruddy the noble black princess, - C O M E T O D A N C E W I T H T H E H U S B A N D , H E Y ! - The importance of the meeting taking place around the rather handsome man didn’t really faze her in the aspects of urgency. The man had already begun talking when they had entered, and more than anything, forcing your way in a conversation already taking place was more rude than not. The warmth of her husband’s hand in on her made her smile, her face lighting up in a way that was rather unusual. Her eyes were dark, deep into the anticipation of this night: innocence long gone. Eventually, as the song had begun and the two newly weds had swung onto the floor, the people around the table were released. They all flowed away from the meeting in silence, a serious atmosphere wafting from their forms. Bella couldn’t help but turned her head to examine the crowd of death eaters, each one in turn staring back at her in something of worry and concern. She didn’t particularly care for their thoughts, and ignored them thoroughly. It wasn’t until the song ended did the young witch understand why they had acted as such. A man, the very man that headed the table and head such presence, began to stride toward the couple, his intent very clear and set. Something of a nervous feeling, mixed with unbelievable excitement stirred within her as she continued to watch him approach: her hand tightening slightly on her husband’s shoulder. She was aware of whom this was now, and the fact that she had been late to this party suddenly became significant. Biting down on her lip gently, she ripped her gaze away from the Lord and forced her eyes to meet the beautiful blue of her Ruddy’s. The uncertainness was plain on her face, but her natural confidence quickly canceled out the displayed emotion. Calm overtook her as the song ended; taking her husband’s hand lightly, she turned him toward the approaching Dark Lord. However, the man had stopped, gently giving them a look that she knew all too well. Being a family of wealth and respect, the Black’s had been trained relentlessly as to the different signals of all major functions. This was no different. Bella nodded slowly, and then strode forward, taking her husband with her. As she approached his vicinity, she slowed, and eventually stopped to curtsy as low as she dared with her current dress. Then she rose and smiled, a nervous little smile but beautiful none the less. ”Good evening, my Lord. Allow me to apologize for our late arrival. There was no excuse.” Her voice remained low and calm, but her hand was gripping tightly onto her husband’s. This was what they were here for: to join the cause together. notes // this is so weird! its bella, but not bella.

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TEMPLATE BY KHRISTIAN OF CAUTION 2.0, LYRICS BY IRON & WINE[/center]