Puxley Manor is where the lord of the land conducts his business upstairs away from the unpleasantries of the slaves housed below.
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by: Orion
July 15, 2012

Not much could draw a Death Eater crowd like a rumor. After Voldemort's fall, after his return, after his triumph...after his death...it was traditional for the group to gather in silence and await the news. Truth, after all, was easily molded and manipulated. So many here made their living massaging the truth. No, they wanted answers.

Did Trevor really return? Did the leader of a powerful resistance group die? Was Teague the one who rescued him? And, most importantly, who was the Lord now? The whisper of silk suits and brocade skirts were the k my communications as the crowd waited for a scrap of information.
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by: Morgana Calloway
There was nothing Morgana hated more than suspense, especially when the suspense built in a room of so many dangerous people. Things had been building at the manor for quite some time. Between the uncertainty of Trevor's resignation, Teague being impersonated, infiltrators among the ranks, trouble with the muggles, Hogwarts closed and a cacophony of terror and uncertainty this meeting was the last thing the Death Eaters and Morgana needed right now. She had enough on her hands that the silent meeting was her worst nightmare. When you gathered so many scared individuals in a room with so much as stake it was never bound to end well. Too much tension. Too many agendas. Too many secrets. One of Morgana's greatest talents was self preservation and this whole situation made her skin prickle with danger. Still, to not attend would be more dangerous than coming here tonight.

The threat she felt around her forced Morgana to be more aware of her situation than usual. The usual faces and figures where in the room and seemed to be congregating into their factions and groups. Those who where from the first rebellion with the Dark Lord, those who had joined after, the followers who were from old family, and all those in between. It was a gathering of the best and the worst the movement had to offer and she was in the middle of it. Sweeping across the room in a jet black dress with emerald green highlights Morgana new that she was being watched by those around her. She had quite the reputation and that made her respected by some and a target for others. Stopping occasionally to greet old acquaintances Morgana eventually made her way to the front of the room and took her seat in the spots reserved for those who were high ranking, those who had been in service the longest, those who were the closest to power. She may have been newly returned but this was not her first time at such a meeting.
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by: Darius Nott
Darius had been one of the first here and had eschewed his traditional place at the front of the room at the extreme right. Instead, he was surrounded by a pack of youngsters all hand picked. They'd spent time together, Sir Nott and the recruits, one on one. Nott offered to mentor the youngsters in the ways of the Death Eater. They'd trained as potioneers and healers primarily, but the opportunity to instill doctrine in them outside of their official mentors was too good for Darius to pass up. As a result of him treating them indulgently and giving them a taste of his esteem, he had five devotees. Part of keeping them was treating them with special favors. They'd begged him to sit with them as a badge of their being chosen. Darius agreed.

He'd been given furtive glances, sneers, and outright stares from some of his peers. If they didn't understand what he was doing, that was their problem. When Morgana came in Darius just watched her. Scowls and glares followed in her wake, but Darius had an enigmatic smile.
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by: Teague MacTail
It had been a late night followed by an early morning after having spent the previous evening deciding how to wrangle the current group of useless Death Eaters in and give them more of a focus and purpose. Long and short was that they needed an enemy to fight and thankfully the Order had provided them with good reason to plan an attack on their safe house. A plan had been developed and with the resources the Death Eaters currently had it shouldn't be to hard to follow through with it. With that all dealt with it had been simple enough to send out a message down the chain to have everyone gather for a meeting of sorts, set the record straight and draw some lines. Cora's defection hurt more than it should have and Teague figured now was a perfect time to reinforce the idea that new and old were in the ranks for the long haul.

The meeting had been set in one of the larger rooms at Puxley with enough seating for anyone who was deemed important enough to attend. of course not all the Death Eaters would be present but the ones that were could pass the message along. With little to no fanfare, Teague made his way down to the designated meeting room, his new unwanted bodyguard trailing behind like some silent puppy. The tracker- No, Lord, still wasn't sure how to feel about the whole Chimera thing but if the creature was at least within sight and non a threat to his own person, he wasn't above using it to knock people around to get them to comply. There was no doubt in Teague's mind not all the Death Eater's approved of his unasked for appointment to Lord or the assumption that he now ran the Death Eaters as a whole. No there were far more blood thirsty or politically savvy ones that could have done Voldemort proud.

Teague entered the room with as little fanfare as he possible could and did his damnedest to avoid any unnecessary conversations as he made his way to the head of the table and sat down in his chair. The tracker- no, Lord, wore a demeanor that spoke of a dangerous confidence, his face wore an easy grin as his eyes scanned the room, as his mind automatically ranking individuals by threat level. Never mind that his stomach was twisted into about a million knots and he was as nervous as a rat in a snake pit. Absently Teague glanced down at his watch. 10:00 a.m. Still had 15 minutes to spare for any late stragglers. He'd give them 10 and then start. if the didn't have the imitative to be here early then they were not wanted as far as planning this little endeavor went.
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by: Christophe Viridian
Walking. Long halls.

This place looked far different than the facility he had been locked in for some time. Christophe had only been in the Dark Lord's employ for a couple of days, or rather a day or so, but it was hard to gauge the concept of time since he was no longer put through his routine as he was in the pits. The mountainous chimaera was getting acclimated to the manor, even though he was only wandering in certain areas where the Dark Lord went, and no matter what the man uttered under his breath, snide comments and expletives about how he didn't need him being his shadow of sorts, Christophe had his orders. Reynolds told him to stay close to Dark Lord MacTail, so he would do that without question.

Christophe followed the Dark Lord into the meeting chamber, where there were already several people waiting. He didn't recognize anyone, not even the swordswoman he'd seen at Reynolds' presentation the day before. He'd hoped she was already here, as she'd at least bring the comfort of familiarity to the new arena, but for now he kept walking and took up post behind the Dark Lord once he was inside and at his seat. He narrowed his eyes a bit when MacTail didn't say anything much to the congregation, but he figured in due time he would have them all at full attention.

He stood back, clasped his hands in front of him, and waited ever so patiently for the meeting to start.
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by: Dru Windsor
What time did he say again? It was supposed to be at 10 a.m., right? Dru looked at her watch and it was quarter til. She'd been posted up in a local hotel, nothing too upscale and nothing too drab either, as she wanted to keep a low profile in the city for now. She was lying on her stomach, scrolling through the listings of available homes in the country, finding some far too large and far too expensive for her tastes. She knew she'd find something eventually and it was just a drive or a quick apparate to her destination if she wanted to check it all out. She was already dressed for the day, ready to get going as she didn't want to stroll in too late to this meeting since Teague wasn't too thrilled with the way she traipsed in to their conference with the Doc and his pet Chimaera...

Dru stood from the bed, slid on her boots and grabbed her wand. She tucked her knives into their appropriate holsters and took a deep breath as she smoothed the wrinkles out of her tunic, before giving one last glance in the mirror. "Alright, first official meeting...and, we're off." While Dru somewhat oozed a confidence that was unmatched by most women she'd encountered, she was somewhat nervous. Meeting new people wasn't her favorite thing to do, especially people in her old field of work. There was surely to be bitterness about her swift climb in the ranks due to her relationship with Teague, but she was prepared to swat all that nonsense away. She was going to be present for him, because he asked her to and she agreed to come back.

Once she arrived, there were already people waiting in the conference room. It was significantly larger than the Lord's office, which was a good thing, because now that he had that towering bodyguard she named Sir Doom & Gloom, any more than herself, Ms. Chase, Teague and one other person would be stuffing that place like a clown car. She strolled in casually, not quite making eye contact with the folks present. She eyed the empty chairs and was about to sit at the one closest to the door, when she noticed a couple of chairs up by the head of the table near Teague. Dru's green gaze briefly looked up at Teague as she acknowledged him, and she decided it best if His Lord's newly appointed bodyguard would be seated beside him. If anyone objected, she wouldn't quite care. If Teague objected, however, she'd take the objection with grace and slide down to the end as she originally planned.

"Top of the morning to yeh." Dru grinned as she sat down, looking at the chimaera briefly before looking back to the Dark Lord.
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by: Cole

Alice liked to believe that all information was good. As a collector and purveyor of intangible goods, it was important to keep up-to-date on everything. How else would the masses be properly guided and informed? The only type of information that the dark skinned woman didn’t care for was surprise information so the current events were already on her last nerve. If she didn’t know what was going on then how was she supposed to be able to do her job. But there was a tangled web of whispers surrounding their current situation; a retirement, a new Lord, the death of an enemy. So much to celebrate and good ways to call new blood to their cause. But she could only do that if she knew what was going on.

Holding her chin high as she turned into the conference room, her cold eyes scanned over the gathered Death Eaters daring anyone to comment on her momentary lateness. Sweeping into a seat calmly, Alice pulled a neatly bound notebook that she opened and set up her ink and quill. Turning her eyes towards the man and his looming guard, a small smirk tugged at her lips in interest. So many new faces. She would have to send her little rooks out to see what they could steal from the lips of others about this new man. Perhaps even tug a few strings if the situation became so desperate.
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by: Orion
No greetings, no affections, no love lost on the often-rivals brood of vipers that comprised the Death Eater pack of political dogs. Darius' hooded eyes scanned the room. Lord MacTail had his body guard, his...adviser? Second body guard? Assistant, Nott decided. All that was missing from his little entourage was his press secretary. Delilah Chase. She was an Enigma. A nobody as far as he knew who caught the ear of Trevor first, then Teague.

That galled him. A nobody outsider had wormed her way into both the Lords inner circles when he...HE the ADDER, chief poisoner and provisions of potions for the Dark Lord!...had been reduced to common fodder. Was old blood worth nothing anymore? Perhaps the rumors and questions among the young bloods was worth lending credence or authority to. Wouldn't that be an interesting final chapter...

But no, he shouldn't even be thinking those thoughts, Darius scolded himself. Rebellion, uprisings, coups, politics...they weren't for old men. Certainly, an old man had the wisdom and cunning to play politics as well as any young buck, but wisdom and memory remembered what happened to every failed coup. Executions left a mark on a man's memories. Would MacTail have the blood to spill it? Nott didn't think the tracker really had it in him, hence the entourage of the mountain man an swordwoman.
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by: Trevor Williams
Trevor had every intention of being on time to this meeting as a show of respect to Teague, yet apparently his habit of arriving early had been his undoing, he realized, as he stood across from Delilah in her little side office at Puxley. She'd pulled him aside the second he'd arrived to, as she put it, set some ground rules. He could appreciate the cautiousness in making sure he was to be trusted given his actions over recent months since his daughters had been abducted from Hogwarts, but what he couldn't appreciate was Delilah's most recent statement. It was more an ultimatum and one he had not expected. It had been so unexpected, in fact, that he had stood there, arms crossed and silent for the past two minutes, though it had felt more of an eternity.

Unsurprisingly, the woman across from him hadn't moved her eyes from him and had studied him the entire time, which made the situation all the more tense, but a shift of her body indicated his time to respond was up. ”Well?” she said, her arms crossed as she inclined her head at him. ”That's the terms, and I can see you don't like them, so why don't you crawl back wherever you were? The door's that way.” She lifted her right hand from her left arm just enough to point.

Trevor snorted lightly and shook his head, his right hand on his hip as he brought his left to his temples and then up to the top of his head, grabbing lightly for a moment then sighing as he let his hand fall back to his side. ”I don't see how you could even dream to ask that of me.”

Delilah rose a brow. ”You don't, Trevor? Honestly? They get snatched again and we have a rogue assassin with potential sensitive information on his hands. Why would we let you keep them?”

”They weren't kidnapped from my care! They were kidnapped from Hogwarts by a rat man who's dead. They're safer in my home than anywhere else.”

”A home that Teague knows the whereabouts of? A home where I know, where Cora knows?” Delilah snorted derisively. ”Cora's defected, you know. She's no longer with us, wants to turn a new leaf with one of the abominations that leads to my future.” Delilah was closer now, her hand motioning angrily at her chest before dropping to her side. Her voice was a little less loud but still intense as she concluded, ”What's to say she doesn't pre-emptively strike when you're not home once she knows you're back in the game?”

Trevor was silent again. She was right, of course. If what she was saying was true, Delilah was right. Cora would be absolutely stupid to believe there would be no repercussions for trying to leave and was familiar enough with the position he had once held with the Dark Lord to realize she might be in danger should rumors of his return reach her. Yet he didn't want to give the girls up, not when he had finally broken free of that underground hell hole they had been taken to and were trying to resume normal life.

”We're giving you a chance to keep them safe. If you want to work for us, this is the cost of admission.” Her tone was terse. She was clearly not feeling patient. ”As I said, you'll get to see them, but you won't know where they're being kept or where you're even meeting until it happens. If you won't, there are others we can train.”

”But none as good as me.”

Delilah rolled her eyes but Trevor almost chanced to think he saw a bit of amusement hidden in those eyes. ”Perhaps not as practiced, but easier to control.”

Control. That was it, wasn't it? The Dark Lord had held promises of Katya's whereabouts and her kidnapper over his head to control him, to bend him to do his bidding at first. After the first demise during his time in rank, it had been a way of life that couldn't easily be walked away from. The Dark Lord had beckoned him and he had returned, no longer naive enough to believe he would ever receive that information but smart enough to know he would do well to simply do as he was bidden to do. He'd given up hope and simply accepted his lot in life when Derrin had called everyone to action, but Morgana's beguiling had been enough to prompt him to run a coup with her. A need for control was part of it and the obvious resources he could acquire should Derrin's plans be successful yet he arrive at the top instead. And now, here he was, needed again, and the girls were being used as pawns.

”You've known love is a weakness for years, Trevor. Have you really forgotten that lesson? It's either you give them over willingly or we take them, and you know that's how it will work. There's nowhere you can run or hide and not ultimately be found.”

Trevor could feel the tension in his shoulders, in his neck, his jaw and the release then shift of it as his shoulders slumped. He should never have reached out, should never have trusted that any semblance of friendship and camaraderie he had found in Teague once upon a time would float him in this situation. He could kill Delilah right here and run, go to his home and take the girls and Julian, and hide, but what sort of life would that be for them? A life on the run, always looking over their shoulders? A life that he had come to accept as normal as he learned the tricks of the trade and how to stay alive but not one they deserved. Yet ultimately, wouldn't that be what he was giving them? Even if after some point the girls grew up and were allowed to join rank or lead lives of their own, wouldn't they always look over their shoulder? They would never trust him again. That much was clear, and that was the cost. The weight of it was heavier than any other he had known. But what other choice did he have? There was no way Delilah didn't have anything pre-emptively ready in case he turned them down and tried to run. The girls wouldn't be there if he tried.

”Fine,” he breathed. What more could he say?

If Delilah found any pleasure in his resignation, Trevor did not detect it in her expression or her eyes nor in her posture. She stood a moment then placed a hand on his shoulder. ”You made the right choice, Trevor.”

She was gone then, past him and toward the meeting room.

Trevor didn't move. He didn't look at the clock until an eternity had seemed to pass. Two past. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. Fine. If they wanted to play it this way, he would play his part. For now. But no one would ever truly best him. They'd be fools to believe otherwise.

The walk to the meeting room seemed a long one despite the shortness of it, but expression controlled and shoulders squared, he entered, pretending not to notice or care about any of the reactions he received as he walked forward and took a seat near the front, a ghost of a smile on his face as he leaned forward, his fingers lacing before him only to part as he said, ”Shall we?”
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by: Teague MacTail
As the minutes ticked on Teague could feel his nerves fraying even further though outwardly he didn't show anything other than his normal easy going persona. The tracker let his eyes scan over the assembled group hoping to get a read on some of the faces he didn't recognize. Categorize threats and non-threats, who he could possibly use to his gain.

At some point he noticed Shepard and Winslow enter, both taking up spots at the table nearest to the exit. A smirk played at the corners of Teague's mouth and the ball of nerves that were roiling around in the pit of his stomach settled down slightly at the sight of 2 more in the ranks he could reasonably trust. Their positioning would mean that if anyone got chippy it could be dealt with easily, especially with the Garou being nearby. Dru had taken up a spot beside him which was a relief in itself. A few other stragglers made their way into the room followed by the last 2 people Teague had been holding out for: Trevor and Delilah, one of which was decidedly more welcome than the other.

Teague still thought himself crazy for letting Trevor back in that easily after all the shit the man had put him through. The questions that we're probably going to pop up regarding leadership and who was the puppet and who was the master we're already enough to cause the trackers temper to flare slightly. Like he needed anymore drama with this pit of vipers... Absently he noted that Del had taken up the empty seat on his right, his eyes settled on Sir Nott who seemed to be more than buddy buddy with a group of 5 nobodies... Some woman who had the gall to flip open a notebook and set up an inkwell and quill... Morgana poised and proper....

A familiar voice broke the tracker out of the old habits he'd fallen back into. Trevor was talking. Indicating they should get this thing started. Right. He was the Lord, the leader, which meant everyone would be looking to him to kick this off.

"Yea, lets." He stated simply in response, motioning for those who hadn't taken a seat yet to do so, before clasping his hands together, resting them comfortably on his stomach as he slouched slightly in his chair.

"First order of business. Pretty sure you lot all recognize a familiar face. Trevor is here to resume the duties he carried out under Voldemort a'right? Been rumors going around about dissension in the ranks starting with a certain Dark Lady who has been aiding a known enemy of the regime." Teague paused a moment, his gaze hardening, taking on a look that most would understand as him being dead serious. "Consider this yer one and only warning: anyone caught aiding Larson or thinking of cutting and running will be dealt with permanently. Old blood, new blood, we're all damn Death Eaters so it's about time we start actin' like it. We got enough enemies gunnin' for us we don't need to be fightin' each other."

"While SAVIOR has been taken out of the equation and soon to be non existent I think it's about time we turn our full attention to the newly risen Order. The attack on the alleys was the most aggressive they've been in a while and there's no denying we got caught off guard. I'm thinking it's our turn to go on the offensive and crush them."
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by: Dru Windsor
When Teague didn't respond her cheeky greeting, she bit her tongue as it was an instinct to bite back with some snark as it was normal for banter between them. They were close like that, for her to say something like addressing him as your grace or your highness, but she didn't want to give off the wrong first impression to the room she didn't want to have to impress at all. There was time and place for bullshit and bollocks like that, and this was certainly not that time. He was in officiate mode, and she didn't want to break his concentration and focus since it seemed to trouble him to have to run this meeting at all. It was so interesting to see him shift into gear and take that seat, that position of leadership that she'd never dream of seeing him in, but it was still mesmerizing nonetheless. A different shade of Teague... different in a good way.

As she eyed the room again, this time from where she sat near the front of the room near Lord MacTail, Dru assessed her current company. Hm. All strangers, even though the older man looked vaguely familiar. Most of the folks in the room were new to her, until Delilah made her way into the room with someone that drew a few gasps and many murmurs across the board.

That man... Wasn't that...

She had only known Trevor Williams by reputation, perhaps seen his face once or twice when she was once part of the ranks, but that was it. They never interacted before, but she swore that she knew a little more about him from somewhere, somehow. Maybe they were in school together at some point? Regardless, Dru noticed a hell of a lot of tension when he entered the room.

The swordswoman shifted in her seat, crossing her legs as she placed her hands on the armrests. She gave one curious glance at the monstrosity who shadowed Teague, her lips teasing a smirk at him, and she shook her head. The tension was easy to read, and if he had a hair trigger like that bumbling doctor had explained, she wanted to be sure he wouldn't make a move out of turn. The guard looked at her knowingly, and fortified himself in place, still within range of protecting MacTail, should things go awry.

Good boy. Now stay... Dru thought, quirking her eyebrow at the Chimaera before looking back to the room. This is going to be interesting.
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by: Kay

Alia had been in her seat since Darius arrived, quietly waiting, swatting the air with her favored black lace fan to keep cool in the tepid room. She yawned softly as people sauntered in, taking their seats with varied greetings between them. Her dark gray eyes moved to the clock at the front of the room, and sighed. Merlin, already she was bored. How long were these people going to take to drag their asses into the room? The Lord summoned them for a reason, summoned them all here at ten sharp, right? Why were they treating this like any old board meeting, like they were corporate sods who could traipse in here whenever they pleased, instead of respecting the urgency around this conference?

It had been a long time since she'd seen the inside of the conference room herself. This had to be a record for the most Death Eater's she'd seen convened--or rather, corralled--in a room in months. Sure, she could complain but what was the point? At least there was something being done...and it was about time. The amount of new blood to who was considered old was a tad disconcerting, but Alia didn't mind. She was impressed there were this many of them willing to meet at all, and if the new Lord's entourage was as solid as he was comfortable with, then she was fine with having to put up with the rookie blood.

Her gray gaze settled on the woman she'd only seen a few times before, but that was years ago. What was her name again? Windsor? Something? What was she doing up beside Lord MacTail? And what of that dark-haired man hovering near MacTail? What the hell was he? He was most certainly something more than human...she could just feel it. How intriguing...

The shuffle of footsteps and minor chatter was brought to a halt when the door opened again. Silence... Intense silence...

"What is he doing here?"

Alia hushed the chatterboxes beside her, because as soon as Trevor Williams got situated, Lord MacTail began to speak. As he addressed things in a quick sweep. The Dark Lady had strayed from the path. She scoffed softly and shrugged. She didn't care for Coraline Larson anyhow, and now she made the wrong move of betraying her own people. MacTail, to boot. Well that was one thing she didn't have to worry about. Alia would sooner be cursed by all of the unforgiveables than be caught helping the Dark Lady, or whatever moniker she claimed as her own, now.

"Merde...The Order?" The quick snap of her fan clicking shut startled the woman beside her, but Alia didn't care. There had been a lot of talk about the uprising, but she wasn't convinced it was truly them. "Yes, I saw the papers. Nice work on the cover and all of that, but are we even sure it was the Order? They've been...how you say...extinct for some time now. What makes you think they would be so bold, so brave enough to step out now? Who is even at its helm? The foolish ones who formed the damned Order of the Phoenix in the first place are gone now, no? How are we even certain it was their handiwork and not some other imbeciles trying to revolt, hm?" That would be yet another thorn in their sides, another resistance group trying to form up against them. She'd seen enough of those fools that it made her roll her eyes.

They could be destroyed with a simple flick of her wand, and without mercy too... she was sure of it.
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by: Cole

So Trevor had returned with enough time for one of the greatest weapons in the Death Eater’s arsenal to betray her people. Hmm, perhaps that could be spun better. It would have to be. Dissent like this was unacceptable. What was worse for Alice was there would be no hiding Larson’s betrayal from people, too many rumors to squash that only a spin would work. Alice tapped her quill, leaving spots of ink seeping into the page of her notebook. Putting out a wanted ad for Larson and exposing her as the Dark Lady would effectively cut her off from the magical world, isolating her further and making her desperate. Desperate people made mistakes even highly trained and capable ones.

Alice let out a pleased hum. She would run the idea by MacTail after the meeting. Using the people as watchdogs and bringing Larson in alive to use her as an example of what happened to betrayers would be the best way to move forward. Not to mention the infamy of being the person to bring in the Dark Lady would draw in all sorts of new blood looking to make a name for themselves to their cause. Her quill scratched away across the notebook, looping ideas messily together in a sort of flowing chart. Potential headlines and smaller snips for articles were underlined or crossed out. Hopefully MacTail would even give her a quote about Larson to add more credibility to the article.

Now for the Order… She went back to tapping away at the notebook in thought. A decisive strike against the faction could work but that would require more support and soldiers if they intended to overwhelm and crush the Order rather than simply start another war. The attack on the alleys had been the perfect way to draw in new members; the blatant disregard towards collateral damage had most people more scared of the Order as terrorists than believing they were revolutionists. At least that’s what the papers said.

Alice looked thoughtful then and turned her brown eyes away from her notebook, ”If you are suggesting an attack, the next questions would have to be where would be the most effective strike and when the best time to catch them off guard would be?” she asked, levelling her eyes to Teague’s face and holding his gaze evenly.
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by: Christophe Viridian
Evil. Intent.
Arguments inbound.

The statuesque guardian of the Dark Lord stayed back, because that was his command unless he got the green light and go-ahead from his master. They were all staring at him, more often than they were paying attention to the Dark Lord, but he knew why. Reynolds instilled that thought in him that he was a foul beast, a creature that one would fear, so their confusion was expected, though the leering glances from some of the women in the ranks, and a couple of men even, made him uncomfortable. Not enough to show it outwardly, though. He wouldn't break his concentration and create a stir amongst the people his Lord had called here to focus on the issues at hand.

Christophe carefully looked around the room, using only a subtle shift in his hazel eyes as he watched these strangers, these people, take their turns talking. He knew his post would see plenty of times like this; Endless meetings, people complaining about everything, speaking contrarily to the Lord whose word was ultimately their law. He slightly narrowed his eyes at the man who came in with the one woman they called Delilah. Her presence didn't bother him, but the man...there was such a familiarity about his face and scent, but he couldn't figure out from where, when, or even why.

His jaw tightened when the woman with the fan spoke out about the Order, as if to test the patience of those around her. If everyone was going to do this to Lord MacTail, he feared he would not be able to hold back the beast that wanted to make its presence known...
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by: Julian Winslow
Julian eyed the gathered group with a clinical gaze as he settled himself into a chair beside Shepard. The wolf had chose to sit at the back of the gathering for whatever reason. Honestly Julian had figured the man would have taken up post near Delilah, what with him being her personal little attack dog or something. Absently he wondered why the wolf even stuck around anymore. The kid didn't seem like the kind of person to just play follow the leader... whatever, thought for another time. As long as he was working with them and not against Jules wasn't going to say much on the topic.

It was the first time since he'd arrived in this time period that the Death Eater's had called a gathering of this caliber. He recalled Trevor, or maybe it was Teague during the infancy of his rule, had called one earlier in the year but it had amounted to little outside of Del gaining her puppy. At least this time around they weren't going in blind. Teague had been working with the pair from the future and the Windsor woman to develop a plan to take out the Order and figure out how to give some much needed direction to this rag-tag bunch that was supposedly deserving of the title"Death Eater."

Once the final stragglers entered and taken their seats it seemed like Teague was set to begin. Jules ignored the hushed whispers and angry looks that were directed at Trevor. Hell, the younger man was still trying to come to grips with what had happened and even though he wouldn't admit it out loud, he held reservations about the man being let back into the fold so soon. Was he really of sound mind? Could he be trusted as long as his kids were in the picture?

His thoughts on that matter we're derailed as Teague gave everyone the cold notes version of what was going to go down this meeting. Push back was to be expected but it still galled the Death Eater from the future. His eyes shifted back and forth between the two woman who obviously didn't have any idea of who they were dealing with. If they though Teague was going to propose an attack without doing the ground work they were going to be in for one hell of a rude awakening. While the tracker now Lord gave off the vibes and did his best to paint himself as a useless git not worth anyone's attention, Julian knew better. He'd seen what the man was capable of and there was a sinister side to their new Lord that most weren't aware even existed.

A soft chuckle broke from the Death Eater and he flashed a wry grin at Teague wondering if the man would elaborate or if he preferred him to. Either way things were about to get a bit more interesting.
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Eben's Journal

(Content warning: graphic description of a burned […]

Early lunch

Eyes again. They weren’t the friendly blues of the[…]


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