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Post by Jack DeBlanc on Dec 22, 2009 18:46:09 GMT -5
Even if he still had his wand it wouldn't have been worth the energy trying to break down the door. How far could he get anyway, with a dozen Death Eaters, Voldemort and that bloody snake to get past? Jack for once felt anxious. Voldemort was keeping him alive for some reason. Normally he’d have killed a traitor on the spot, no questions asked, figure out all the damage after the sentence has been passed. And Jack didn’t know how long the mind tricks would keep the Dark Lord from coming down the stairs, wand drawn and two words on his lips. Avada Kedavra was on the playing cards now. Not a lot else. Unless by some miracle Jack managed to keep the old man paranoid and scared long enough to escape. Unlikely.
He’d been here for what felt like a week. It was probably only a few days, but time was difficult to judge when there were no doors or windows to gage light and darkness. It meant Jack was relying totally on his natural body clock. But when you have nothing to do, what else can you do but sleep? He could only practise Divination so much in a day before he became too wearisome. They provided a meal a day, presumably because one of the Death Eaters was ordered to keep him alive but physically weakened. Typical tactics.
He’d been pacing for ages now, presumably about an hour because his legs were starting to protest. Stone floors weren’t friendly to any human body, especially during the colder months. Jack frowned, one hand in his slacks pocket, the other rubbing the scar that was now forming on his cheek from where Voldemort had attacked him. It felt pretty deep, but was healing surprisingly quickly. He had half a mind to return the gesture to the Dark Lord and leave him with a similar mark across his already distorted face. But he couldn’t do much down here, behind a locked door, two Death Eater guards and three floors between Voldemort and himself.
He still tried his best to penetrate Voldemort’s mind, replay those images, occasionally changing them a little, or only focusing on one. It was a way of keeping Jack’s own mind sharp and occupied. You don’t use it, you lose it, as some Muggles may say.
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Post by Ophelia Grey on Dec 23, 2009 15:59:47 GMT -5
Ophelia was bored. Her Lord had been consumed with the images that Deblanc boy had shown him, and Ophelia hadn't been too useful. The vampires she had spoken to had already sworn their allegiance to her Lord. She had fed. There was nobody in the house that she wanted to speak to. What to do?
And then Ophelia remembered: Jack Deblanc was in the dungeons. She remembered their last encounter, how she could have seduced him into letting her have a bite, letting her turn him... he showed interest in the idea, but mostly he just showed interest in her. That was what Ophelia loved about men, they were so easy and predictable. But Jack was fun about it, at least.
As the Death Eaters guarding the doors saw her approach, they stood up with intentions of not letting her into the dungeons. She laughed. "Let me through, you idiots," she hissed, barring her fangs. These two were strong wizards, but unimportant to the fight, and generally feared Ophelia. They had seen what she was capable of. They had their reasons to be afraid, and they knew she was to be trusted. After all, she was her Dark Lord's most loyal vampire.
When she entered the room, the first thing she noticed was how dark it was. She could barely make out the man pacing in his cell. She turned and ordered one of the guards to light a torch for her; once she received that, she walked further in the room.
"Fancy seeing you here," she said, her voice melodic mixed with a tinge of irony.
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Post by Jack DeBlanc on Dec 23, 2009 19:18:37 GMT -5
"Really? Because I thought it was common knowledge I was down here, and since you had to pass two guards to get into my humble cell, I'd assume you knew who was down here." Jack spoke as he stpped pacing and turned to face the doorway, as far back as he could be from her in this tiny stone room. It wasn't that he felt hostile, but frankly he expected his death and Vampires weren't exactly the kindest of exceutioners.
"If you're here to kill me, you might as well get it over and done with. If you're not, would you care to explain why you felt the need to travel down three flights of stairs to come visit? Not for a friendly chat, I'm guessing." Although he was obviously unhappy about anybody but Voldemort being inthe room with him, he was perfectly civil. If he was pissed off, he'd have made it known. He was just tired and bored. A combination which doused the fire somewhat.
"Had Voldemort figured it out yet? I'd love to hear his theories"
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Post by Ophelia Grey on Dec 23, 2009 22:04:47 GMT -5
Ophelia laughed. "A little hostile, aren't you Jack? I should kill you for being so rude to a lady such as myself," she said, her eyes dancing as much as a vampire's eyes could dance. "Though if you're wishing for death, I should think that becoming a vampire wouldn't satisfy your desire." She walked closer to him, leaned up against the wall and faced his cell. It was as if this happened everyday for Ophelia.
"I don't know what my Lord is thinking, He won't see me. I'm bored and I fancied a chat. Is that too much hassle for you?" She would think that in his situation, he should be grateful for some conversation before he died. Certainly her Lord wouldn't allow Jack to live once He had figured out the meaning of the images. Until then, Ophelia could have her fun.
"So, anyway, how are you?" Ophelia, killer that she was, refused to be pessimistic. Ironic, she supposed, but she didn't care.
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Post by Jack DeBlanc on Dec 24, 2009 5:29:42 GMT -5
He smirked. She certainly had an arrogant charm about her. Something which reminded him somewhat of his cousin, but enough about that. It would only make him more anxious. Afterall, there was no telling what Voldemort would try and do to Taxxi if he knew she existed.
"We're sharing pleasantries, I'm pretty much a dead man walking and I have no Sight of my own future. Anybody else would be petrified. Myself, I'm just bored." Jack shrugged, following her suit by leaning agasint the wall and taking a sidewards glance at her. Why did Vampires always look so attractive? Part of their killer design, he supposed. Everything about them was designed for hunting and killing and feasting.
"I dont suppose you smoke Muggle cigarettes?" He asked, realising he'd not smoked since the moning before he told Voldemort he was leaving. True, Jack had smoked about twenty that day, but his craving had kicked in again and he was itching for cigarette between his fingers.
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Post by Ophelia Grey on Jan 1, 2010 13:57:37 GMT -5
Ophelia smiled. He lost his angry tone and seemed at least a little bit relaxed. "Bored, you say? Well then I guess it's good that I came down here, isn't it?" Her eyes gleamed, light eyes. She had just hunted. "I mean, if you're bored, you could use a bit of fun."
"Actually.... I do," she said, offering him one. Cigarettes weren't around 400 years ago, but Ophelia fell in lust with the smokey tobacco flavor while lurking in Muggle pubs, searching for a foolish man for dinner. They were the only Muggle invention she felt was worth keeping around once the war ended, but certainly magic would improve them.
She handed him one and the lighter she used, carrying it around only because as a vampire she could not create a fire at the tip of her wand to light her cigarette. She never had the same one; it was usually the lighter of the last Muggle she preyed upon that had one on their person. Ophelia had gained extreme disdain for Muggles since she was turned, but appreciated their cigarettes and lighters nonetheless.
"You really got yourself into a bloody mess, you know," she said after lighting one up herself. "He's probably going to kill you."
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Post by Jack DeBlanc on Jan 1, 2010 20:30:01 GMT -5
Somewhat relieved to have soemthing to do with his hands, Jack slipped the cigarete between his lips and sparked up, inhailing deeply and savouring the taste before handing back the lighter and exhailing. The strange thing was he knew about all the health risks Muggles spouted when it came to tabacco and all that, but frankly had never cared much. If a Healer couldn't sort it, you were already facing Death in the face anyway. For a moment he simply ejnjoyed smoking before she mentioned how likely it was that he was going to be killed.
"Cheers for that spurt of encouragement. I don't need a crystal ball to see that I'm about as likely to leave his house alive as Harry Potter waking in here, stark bollock naked with a tiny white flag ready to surrender to Voldemort's will. And quite frankly I'd rather die than listen to your Dark Lord gloating if such a thing should happen." Jack sounded almost casual, though there was a slight bite to his words. Maybe he did fear death, some tiny spectical of his existance could not quite accept that he was a cornered animal about to face extinction.
"If you want to, you can indulge me in some wicked fantasy of excape, though arguably that would be crueler than killing me quickly" The young man sighed, taking a long drag on the cigarette and blowing out the excess smoke though his nose. It had to be said, it was the simplest things that made him feel more relaxed. Who'd think a tiny stick of tabacco could make his hands lose their slight tremor of anticipation?
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Post by Ophelia Grey on Jan 3, 2010 13:43:00 GMT -5
Ophelia enjoyed Jack's humor, his darkness. He was intelligent and witty, something she found charming. Others who followed Voldemort and weren't too afraid of vampires to have a full conversation with Ophelia didn't interest her, but Jack had personality. Personality goes a long way.
She watched him, smiling and taking drags of her own cigarette. "Well," she began. "I could always turn you. That'd be more fun for me, at least." It was a good offer, Ophelia thought, though one her Dark Lord would hardly approve of anymore. There was a chance, at one time, when her Dark Lord would have accepted Ophelia's desire to turn Jack Deblanc into a vampire after He either found a better Seer who was willing to be Marked, or he no longer needed a Seer, but there was probably little hope now.
"But you wouldn't like that either," she continued. She wouldn't tell Jack that her Lord would disapprove. "You'd lose your Sight and your magic.... it's almost like getting demoted to a lesser species for the likes of you... at least that's how I felt when I lost my magic and was turned." True, Ophelia was very upset at losing her magic... but sometimes she felt being a vampire was a better deal anyways..
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Post by Jack DeBlanc on Jan 3, 2010 17:28:09 GMT -5
Jack smiled, shaking his head. "I'm afraid I'd have to decline. It may surprise you to learn that I've felt what it's like to be dead.. And it's quite nice, in a way... It's-" He pausd, as if trying to find the right word to describe it; "-surreal." Jack took another drag of his cigerette before flicking it to the ground and stubbing it out with his heel.
"Muggle car. I was officially dead for about a minute, heart stopped, mind blank and all that. It felt like waking from a dream, everything sort of hazy and distant." His lips twitched slightly, his memory taunting him. He had never feared death, but rather feared seeing the deaths of the people he loved. To outlive his friends would be a far worse fate than to die before them.
"So, when you are turned you lose all your magic? Do you still remember, but can't perform magic or do you forget?" He asked, somewhat intregued as to how somebody could lose all their magic. He had never heard of anybody who had lost their magic, or even their memory of magic.
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