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by: Fierro Darque
July 14th, 2010.

Though there had been no plan set, Fierro was on fire. Speaking with two men who saw eye to eye with him when it came to overthrowing the empowered regime of Williams at the ball made him so riled up it almost made him crazy. Viridian Manor was behind him as he set out to meet with Trevor at the offices, a place he was allowed to visit him since he was of course, his second-in-command.

Internally, Fierro was scoffing, damning the thought of being underneath the power of Williams at all. Death Eaters now were becoming part of an intricate web of political intrigue, deceit and treachery were the tricks of the trade. This amused him some, mostly because he was one of the oldest of the Death Eater ranks, and by far the most experienced. If deceit and treachery were what it took, one might actually call him king. Fierro did, after all, lead a double life when he was married to the auror Alexandra Winter. The two bore a child, who also became an auror, Kara. All the while, he turned to the dark side, faked his own death and even killed his own wife. To this day, he had some regrets, like killing his beloved. However, he did have little remorse considering the fact that she had a sordid affair with Sirius Black, hid the true paternity of their child and lied to his face. Til death did they part, and sure enough they did.

Adjusting his coat before stepping into Puxley Manor, Fierro grinned to himself, then cleared his throat. All clues that he might be staging a coup must be wiped from his mind. He would want to raise no suspicion, especially around Trevor. Once he would be suspected, there was no telling what kind of action would be taken. Anything that ended in death, surely.

Trotting up the steps, Fierro coyly nodded to the help and strode down the long hallway until he reached the office of his own, and unbeknownst rival, Trevor Williams. Why he had been summoned was unknown, something that Trevor rarely did to any of the officers of his Court. Knocking slightly on the door before turning the knob and pushing past it, Fierro discovered a quiet office, an eerily silent stage for a scene he could not predict. Trevor’s chair was facing the back wall, so he wasn’t exactly sure if Trevor was even here at all.

It wasn’t until he sniffed the air that he realized he was not alone. Indeed, a powerful presence was nearby.

”You called for me, Sir?”

Ugh. SIR. Fierro hated addressing this man as his superior.
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by: Trevor Williams
((Ok, let's see if I can reply without Trevor imitating the Master. *taps fingers like him* >>))

The dimly lit office in the Puxley Manor that Trevor called his own was seemingly vacant this morning to any passersby, though if one stopped to look, he would notice the light, flickering shadows cast by the crackling fire. Natalya was in her office right now, enjoying what Trevor knew to be one of her last days of freedom based on his and Sienna's little conversation during the masque, but she knew better than to emerge from her office unless she had a matter of life and death to bring up to him at the moment. After all, the Minister of Magic, Trevor's second-in-command was to come for a little chat soon. There truly wasn't much to discuss at this point in time. It was just a normal little check up on how things were running. However, there were some strange little rumors that were slightly jarring, though he wasn't going to let it get to him yet he wasn't going to simply dismiss it. With Callid involved in something, it couldn't be taken lightly. It wasn't paranoia, merely precautionary necessities.

He should just enslave Callid and be done with it. The thought made him chuckle softly as he sat there before the dancing flames, his hands clasped loosely over his stomach. With a slight smile, the man slowly inhaled before closing his eyes as he slowly exhaled. Relaxation was always nice, easier with the thought of no Callid. Of course, it helped that his and his wife's birthday was tomorrow and he had a rather nice evening planned for the two of them. Their first birthday together last year only months after he had taken her hadn't quite been as satisfactory as he had hoped, but now? Tomorrow would be perfect, no two ways about it. This, of course, was nowhere near the point of the meeting. Why would he want to tell people what he had planned for his birthday? Should he do so a trap might be set, and he really didn't want to employ Imperium Guards to keep watch for him while he was with his wife. It was the same reason he made a point of not telling anyone where his home was. Protection and precautionary measures were always necessary in his books.

At the sound of footfalls approaching, Trevor sat up straighter before slowly turning in his chair so he could see Fierro. He felt like he was in one of the muggle picture shows Anna used to love, but enough of that thought train. Was it really already time? Or was he early? However, he didn't glance at the small clock that was faced towards him on his desk to find out. He merely looked at Fierro as he spoke, nodding. Why not get to his point in a round-about way today? Wasn't like he did it all the time. Who knew. It might be amusing, especially if a line of small talk annoyed Darque. Merlin knew he needed something to preoccupy himself. Today was very boring. It was a very boring day. "Why, yes, I did," he replied in a more jovial fashion than was normal for him. "We just had a masque. I think it was a success. Don't you think it was a success, hmm?" He narrowed his eyes slightly as he looked at Fierro. Yes, this would get him to his point quite nicely and directly, really, in the long run. Guilt him a little, hint that he knows something by his look. The results might actually be interesting, though he would come out and say what he wished to say in a moment. First, he had to let Fierro speak.
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by: Fierro Darque
Fierro didn’t like the way he felt around Trevor. As a ranking Death Eater, and an aged one as well, he felt like he should have some dignity whenever he was around his superior, his Lordship, but no. There was this air about Williams that seemed to drain Fierro of all comfort, cause him to stir about internally, like a constant fear of what was to happen next. Viridian was not, however, fearful of Williams himself, no. He was more afraid of who or what the man might conjure up to torture him if he so much as blinked wrong in his presence.

However, Fierro failed to express this externally. He had to feign a liking to the kinship with this man, falsify all of his hates and horrendous thought against the man that ruled the wizarding community, turning them to thoughts that he could only hope were the same or at least appeased him, should he decide to use the mind-reading spell. No. His exterior remained strong, firmly standing with his two feet planted evenly on the floor. His deep, dark eyes were fixated confidently on the man he called his superior, his hands held tightly behind his back. There was nothing comfortable about Puxley Manor to Fierro anymore, but this was as comfortable as he was going to get.

As Trevor spoke, he listened. There was an almost playful overtone in his voice, like he was trying to draw something out. Fierro knew that it was more than likely the case. Trevor knew that he hated small talk, and this was his halfway of getting to the point. He nodded. ”Quite a success, yes.

Clearly, there was something Trevor knew that Fierro had to spill, but what exactly. He had to think back, to what unfolded that evening. It wasn’t difficult to recall the conversing Fierro had done that evening, an exchange between three men who all had similar ideals. Fierro managed to smile, curling up the left half of his face in a grin. ”I assume you would like me to explain why I was speaking with Mr. Warren at the party then. Is that why I was summoned here?” It was always a daring thing, to call out Lord Williams, especially when he sent for you, to call you out on something. Fierro was used to it, though, and he wasn’t about to let him sweep the rug out from under him.

He was going to tell Williams what he wanted to hear. It was now his turn in the verbal volley, whatever came next was going to let Fierro plan his words carefully.
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by: Trevor Williams
Whether or not Trevor had the ability of Legilimency was subject to debate amongst any followers who had any knowledge of such things as Legilimency or Occlumency, which admittedly were few. But many recalled his closeness to the Dark Lord during the brief stints during which the two had co-existed while they certainly had no facial recognition to back it, merely a voice, for in those times he had so foolishly hoped to gain a life apart from Voldemort and the Death Eaters and for the Dark Lord's defeat. But it had never been meant to be. Rather, he had been imprisoned thanks to a certain John Kenneth, damn Order scum, and his picture had been seen by any who had half a brain and glanced at the Daily Planet in the news stands. Of course, the name associated with it had not been one that Death Eaters had known aside from Morgana, but it had been he, and again, anyone with half a brain would have noticed the absence of the always masked man from meetings and either made the connection or assumed he was away on important business. Now? Well, they had to be stupid not to have made it by now. Unfortunately, there were a few whose lack of brains was so prolific it was frightening.

Needless to say, Fierro was not one who lacked brains, but whether or not he knew of Trevor's ability was subject to debate. Regardless, it was due to this ability that Trevor had first picked up on Darque's curious discomfort around him months ago. It was something that had intrigued Trevor at first, for Darque never let it show through on his features. However, it was also this regard that Darque held towards him that the leader had decided to give him position of second in command when Masters had taken off on his mission. Keep your friends close but your enemies closer. Fortunately for Trevor he had few to no friends so he could devote all his time and attention to his enemies, so how much closer could one post enemies than second in command? Hell, if Callid Warren could be trusted around Sienna Faber, he might have given Warren the position instead, but as it was, he provided him his own section of the United Kingdom to keep watch. It kept him out of his hair yet close enough that meetings were required even if they were a bit redundant most of the time.

Regardless, it was Darque who was now of more importance. And his discomfort was still there, but he'd rather the other believe that he was falling for the façade upon the other's face, the portrayal of casual confidence. He was not about to admit to allowing Darque to know he knew. Instead, he would keep up the unpredictable act that seemed to be the source of it all. It made things interesting, kept Darque on his toes, and who knew, perhaps it also acted as a deterrent from doing anything potentially hazardous to the Williams regime and thereby his own job, for surely he knew that if he had anything to do with any ill publicity or happenings, the connection would be found and made and he would suffer greatly, publicly, if Trevor deemed it necessary. One did not want to cross paths with Trevor in such a way, for torture and killing were Trevor's specialties, something he had done for the Dark Lord with little regard to the one who was subjected to it.

Trevor watched as the other man replied before seeming to think a moment. He would have interrupted his thought, but he wanted to see what it was that seemed to warrant such a look on the other's face. A grin was not often seen on Fierro's face in his experience. The very fact that the other was calling his bluff before he was ready to make it known was alarming to Trevor, and he narrowed his eyes slightly as though examining the man, but just as quickly as they had narrowed, his expression was back to his normal collected expression, a slight hint of a smile on his face, which may or may not aide Darque's already skewed perspective of him. Now, Trevor saw absolutely no need to show him complete and total respect. No, that had to be earned in his eyes, and Darque had done little to do so.

Trust had to come before respect, after all. Darque hadn't tried to gain it, so he would receive neither, and it was his own fault. It didn't take much to figure out how it was that Trevor operated. He liked to think of himself as a fair man. All people had equal opportunity to advance, to gain his trust, and anything else. They just had to put their best foot forward and continue up the path to the top of the ladder.

And no one did that by calling Trevor's bluff.

No, that made him feel suspicious, even if he didn't let it show and instead, acted congenial as though nothing was wrong. "Partly, Mr. Darque," Trevor replied, nodding his head slightly, retaining his almost insanely calm look. "It is rather suspicious, is it not? Speaking lengthily with a man who is my known enemy isn't something most people would call smart, is it? I mean, you want to see this on my face, right?" He smiled. "Not this, right?" He made a face that was a mixture of a frown and a pout. "Well, what do you suppose I am now? This? or this?" He gave the smile first and then the frown again before resuming his calm expression. Yes, it only furthered the unpredictability he wanted to provide Darque. Give him something to fear and maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't dare speak with Warren again.
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by: Fierro Darque
Is this guy for real? Fierro asked himself as Trevor began to put on a show for him, displaying variations of smiley faces and sad faces as he spoke. Of course, Fierro had never truly taken Trevor seriously because of the fact that the head of the Regime should have been taken by none other than Darque himself, not this jokester of a man. He wasn't sure whether or not he should laugh in Trevor's face now for making a fool of himself or keep still, humor him and move on. The latter would probably be the safest, he quickly decided, folding his hands together behind his back, as he stood at attention with Williams' blabbering on about his raised suspicions of Callid.

Trevor also had the right to be suspicious. After all, Fierro and Callid and that Bristow, the Imperium Guard, had an interesting conversation the night of the masquerade, one that Fierro couldn't keep out of his mind. It was simply because it was he was giddy inside to know that there were people out there like him--because of their shared loathing for their acclaimed leader.

"Quite frankly, Sir, I think you should be a little bit of both." Maybe that wasn't the answer Trevor was looking for, the Fierro didn't care. He had a plan, and this plan was going to go well. It had to. Making a few steps forward, Darque brought himself closer to Williams' desk, giving him a chance to look down at his 'master', who was sitting down in his chair. "If you should know, I spoke to Callid because I am well aware that he has taken a great disliking to your leadership."

Then he had the gall to take a seat at the front edge of the glossy-finished desk, now entwining his fingers over his knee. "Of course I knew that it would raise suspicions, and rightly so. I couldn't dismiss the fact that some of the biggest gossips were at that Masquerade that night, and I don't care. I deal with the damned bigmouths every day. It wasn't going to stop me with a plan that I devised on my own, a plan that is just so bloody perfect."

Perfect, indeed. He commended himself on the speech he was delivering with great poise. He had a plan, alright.

"I know I should have run this buy you before I executed the first part of the plan, but I was feeling rather spur-of-the-moment at the ball, being by myself and all. If memory serves, you were busy with a slave girl, or something. Anyway, after all these years under your command, or even before this, I've never had a chance to get to know this Warren fellow. It has come to my attention that he does not like you, sure. It isn't hard to see that, considering his mannerisms when you two are in the same room, or feel the pressure tense up when he is around. Callid is a force to be reckoned with, or so he thinks. I am going to get to know him a little better, and find a way to entrap him. Maybe find some hard evidence that shows he is willing to throw everything we've--" Fierro looked at Trevor and chuckled, correcting himself quickly: "pardon. You've done for him, to start some sort of revolt or even another heinous crime, we can take him out of the picture without leaving some sort of suspicious trail."

There was probably more to this plan than Fierro could state, but that was all he cared to say for now. If Trevor would get off of his high horse, stop this nonsense with the smiling and frowning faces sort of mindset, maybe he could read into this and actually believe that these are Fierro's intentions.
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by: Trevor Williams
The casualness with which Fierro had looked down at him and then sat on his desk was something that Trevor refused to react to. After all, he knew he was doing it to gain a rise out of him, and he wouldn't have it. He wasn't threatened by such petty shows of dominance as that. He was much more secure in his position than that, and even if he wasn't, he still wouldn't have shown it. After all, it was making Darque's intent known in a subconscious manner although he was all friendly smiles and sweet words. The man should know better than to try to play Trevor for a fool, but the man would get his comeuppance soon enough as would Warren. Their stalemate would end soon, and the weasel would be placed in Azkaban with strict orders and specific threats that Fierro was to be kept away and not even allowed within the prison. Darque would also receive shortly some more checks and balances as Trevor decided fit. He would claim it was at the advice of his political adviser, and as the man would be there, Fierro would find no excuse to believe otherwise because it would be done far enough in the future that there would likely be no immediate connection.

Williams found himself amused by Darque's tale, though he gave no reaction other than occasional nods to show he was listening. He wondered how long he had practiced that in the mirror. An hour, maybe? Fifteen minutes? Whatever. It wasn't as though it truly mattered. A lie was a lie, and he did not appreciate being lied to. He chuckled politely with Fierro at his correction but shook his head, standing and walking over to a small table where a bottle of brandy sat with a couple of cups. He turned the two closest over and glanced over at Fierro as he began to pour. "Brandy?" he offered, figuring the man would know that poisoning someone was not his style. No, he preferred for deaths that were of a far worse nature--not that Fierro had ever been able to witness this fact, but he figured that he had been an assassin for the Dark Lord would tip Fierro off to the fact that he would at least prefer the wand to something like poison.

As he brought the two third-full glasses back with him, he held out his left hand to offer it to him before sitting down and taking a small sip. "See, my friend," Trevor said to him, picking up where they had left off, "I have knowledge far beyond you of Warren and what he is capable of, but I also know his weakness." He'd be damned if he would tell Darque what he found that to be. If it would be too easy for the two to work that assumption into their plan so that he would assume and thereby make a mistake if they made a hit. "You need not waste your time on him. I have that situation handled well. Trust me." He gave a smirk. Yes, here, he was playing into their hands for a purpose. Overconfidence was never a friend. Any fool knew that, but he wanted them to think that he was that fool. It would make things interesting when it all came falling down in their faces as he slowly broke apart their group.

But neither of them knew he held the ace. Neither of them knew that Sienna was on his side and had taken an Unbreakable Vow. She would do all but kill Callid because that was how she preferred it. He was her friend, she had claimed concerning Callid, but he, Trevor, was far stronger and more capable. He was fully convinced his quick action to get them all in control had dictated that idea, but the desire to get out of her enslavement had driven her to overlook her "friendship" (Trevor didn't believe Warren reciprocated that relationship in his mind) with the weasel and side with him completely--that and a desire for self preservation. Either way, he held the ace. He would win. It was all just a matter of time.
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by: Fierro Darque
As he shifted on the edge of the desk, Fierro couldn’t help but keep smiling. He hoped that this little childish action would irritate Williams for all that it was worth. What Fierro didn’t expect to hear, however, was an offering. He managed to keep a straight face as he nodded. It was going to be alright, he knew. Even if Trevor did stoop to trying to poisoning his drink, Fierro would be able to find the traces of it, and dispose of it gracefully. But unfortunately, Darque knew his ‘master’ far better than that. Killing was a game for the Death Eaters, the new Ministry, and the Imperium Guards. There were far more creative ways of killing than offing someone with a silent, painless venom. No, Fierro knew. Trevor was better than that. Consequently, after much contemplation over this minor offering, he accepted the Brandy and raised it slightly in thanks to Trevor.

Politics always has an elegance in it, Fierro thought as he took a sip of the bitter Brandy in his glass, gulping it down with not so much as a cringe on his face. Where the brutes of the olden days would seek out traitors by slaying them or beating them down with heavy fists, the regime chose to take a different path, a diplomatic path, one of mystery, betrayal, and eventually, death. Much like the art of torture, this Empire stood upon a writhing foundation of people who were being (figuratively, for the fortunate) bled out and drained by Williams and his crew. Fierro hated the fact that he was a part of this regime. But, in due time, he kept telling himself.

Then Trevor began his own speech. It was one that surprised Fierro a little bit. Instead of mulling over the fact that Fierro had conversed with his enemy, Trevor was trying to divert his attentions. Or was this supposed to be part of his plan? Divert his attentions so he wouldn’t be seen speaking to Callid again? Of course. Darque took another sip and then looked up at Trevor, this time with his eyes slightly narrowed. He needed more, a lot more of an explanation. And trust him? Fierro cackled on the inside. ”Do you, now?”

Fierro rose from his perch on the desk and took a few steps with his back to Trevor before slowly turning back around to face him. He held his glass tightly in his hand, careful not to squeeze too hard. ”Tell me, Master." He spit out the title with great disdain. He was counting down to the day when he wouldn't have to address him like that anymore. "What is it you have on him that you‘re practically forbidding me to do so much as look at your rival?” He tried to keep his tone casual, but inside, he knew he was trying to push buttons, gather information. There was something about the Trevor was talking that made Fierro more interested in this rivalry and the fine line he walked between them.
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by: Trevor Williams
"Plenty, Mr. Darque, plenty," Trevor replied confidently. Like he would tell Fierro he knew that Callid was setting Sienna free and polyjuicing Natalya to keep anyone from finding out his little spy was planted. If this man truly was in league with Callid as he suspected, then he didn't need to let that get out. He'd rather have Warren's little spy under his control, not under the other's, and undoubtedly, Warren wouldn't hesitate to put her under the Imperius or kill her to keep control. No, the death of a beautiful and skilled woman was not one for which he wanted to be responsible. Give him a politician or an Order member like old days and he'd do it in a heartbeat, but what little talent was left in the squandering ranks of the Death Eaters he wanted to keep alive and allied to himself. It was imperative to the success of his plans.

"Don't worry about it, whatever the case," he went on to say. "I'm trying to leave time for you to put to work the plethora of resources at your fingertips at the Ministry. I'm certain you recall our agreement? Anyone you want to use to search for her is yours, but I do recommend Carly Glasglow. She's been impeccable with what I've had her do for me. She's quick and finds whomever you want, no questions asked. She'll keep your confidence." No, it wasn't the entire reason he was "alleviating" Fierro of this task of "spying" on Warren, but it was a byproduct, one that Trevor didn't see the harm in. A happy Fierro, if there was such a thing, was a happy Trevor, right? It was one less thing to worry about--not that he wouldn't worry about it anyway. Paranoia, the never-sleeping enemy.

Hopefully his enemies, should Darque make the mistake of allying himself against him, would find the confidence to be a foolish allegation and therefore make somewhat sloppier decisions and plans. It was a lot to hope for given how thorough Warren tended to be. Darque, on the other hand? He assumed he probably was pretty calculated, too, but he was also a bit of a wild card. What he wouldn't give to get inside that man's head, if simply to find out why there was such disdain, especially so early on in their promised deal. Less than a month (especially at the time of the masque), and he was already dissatisfied.

Surely no one was that quickly discontent. He certainly wouldn't have believed it was possible had he not witnessed it with his own eyes. Was Fierro that power hungry that two weeks, only ten work days, in his position would leave him on the prowl? And if it was his daughter, their agreement, how could anyone be found that quickly? He simply didn't understand it, and he supposed one of these days he would simply need to find out, but first, he would lull Darque and Warren into a sense of false security. They were engaging in a dangerous game, the game of assassination, with one who was versed in such techniques. For now, he would remain dormant, do nothing, but they should remember the slogan for their school: never tickle a sleeping dragon. They might not like the consequences.
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by: Fierro Darque
Fierro squeezed the glass a bit tighter as Trevor brought a certain case to light. Suddenly, dropping the whole argument about Callid wasn't such a bad idea. He didn't forget at all. Searching for his daughter--step-daughter, rather, was a priority since he killed his whore of an ex-wife. Sure, there was ill feelings there, hatred burning from the bottom of his blackened heart for the woman that betrayed him. But he didn't hate Kara, he kept telling himself that it wasn't her fault, and it wasn't. She didn't tell Alexandra to betray the vows of her own marriage. She didn't tell her mother to sleep with that Sirius bastard. Fierro wanted to find the girl to ease his mind, to make sure she was safe. There was so much happening with the ongoing war, even though both fronts were nearly silent at the moment, but still.

Kara's name was still up on the mercenary bulletin posts, something he read often, something he feared for every time, it made his stomach turn. He was so frightened for her life every day, and he didn't forget her for one minute. He was hoping that she would evade Trevor's men for just a little longer until Fierro found a way to get this bloke out of power, even if it meant...
...no. He hated thinking himself a martyr would help anyone's cause, but it would only help Trevor's. He would look like the problem, the crazy 'sidekick' that was nothing more than an ornament.

After a moment of pause, Fierro set the glass down on a nearby table and sighed. "I haven't spoken to Carly yet, but I will certainly request her assistance in the search. Thank you, Master/." He said and straightened up in his stance, brushing off his coat. He fastened the top button that he had loosened before he'd entered and gave Trevor a preliminary parting glance. "Very well then. If you do not want me to speak to Callid Warren, then I most certainly have no choice but to heed those words. Is there anything more to discuss?"

Merlin, Fierro hoped not. He wanted to be out of Puxley, stat. This was just a test, he knew, to see how much information would be spit out so freely. He must of thought Fierro a fool if he was going to speak up about their coups, their plan. Regardless, he would still speak to that Guard Bristow and Warren at a later time. Plans were still to be made, and if Trevor still had suspicions, he was ready for any spy, any counteraction Trevor might have in store.
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by: Trevor Williams
He was itching to leave. Trevor didn't like that. Certainly, the man had made note of the name he had provided him, but why wasn't he so eager to talk as a father looking for his daughter ought to be? Didn't he want to know if Trevor knew of any other resources he could use? Of course not. He'd rather leave. He'd rather get out of his sight before he could figure out what he and Warren were up to. Trevor knew and understood that, but Merlin, this was too easy. An agreement to heed those words because he had no choice? So soon? So quickly? Without a fight, even? Darque had hinted at his hand without realizing it. Any man who was really concerned about the well-being of his country and leader would have given more fight. Any father really interested in looking for a long, lost daughter would want to make sure he had everything he could possibly use at his disposal.

Trevor would know. He had looked for his for years, though it wasn't 'til recently that he had everything he needed at his disposal and had succeeded. Only a little longer, and it would all come together for him. It bothered him that Fierro didn't display the same fervent need that he had felt, but what was he to do? He would have to make sure he kept an eye out and an ear and never allow the man to have his back, he supposed. If he got enough out of line, he could publicly ruin and humiliate Fierro as well, but that would only be if he knew something and wanted to let them know to force them to act rashly.

As it was, Trevor had no real reason to keep Fierro here. He was yet free to come and go as he pleased. So, the younger man calmly rose from his desk chair, fixing his tie. "Nothing more, my friend," he told him, beginning to walk the other man to the door. "I believe we both have things to mull over after this meeting. Until next time." He extended his hand as he said his last three words before letting his hands fall to his sides. It was time to come up with a game plan and fast.
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by: Fierro Darque
"Very well then, My Liege." If only Trevor could taste the venom in those very words spoken with his bitter tongue as he made his leave. The sooner he was out of Puxley and back in Viridian Manor the better he was going to feel, no doubt about that. Puxley used to be a place he would come and hang out on his spare time (and really, he had a lot of spare time on his hands) but the less time spent here, the better. Maybe it was for his sanity, for his health, to ease the paranoia...whatever. Fierro didn't want to be under Trevor's suspicious gaze any longer, either.

Fierro stepped back from the desk and made a respectful gesture, a bow and nod to his "master" as he realized he was being dismissed. There was a feeling of relief in his tense shoulders; the Minister relaxed as he backed away from his where his Lord was seated and he started to turn to walk away. "I'm returning home. If anything else you suspect me of, or rather, you wish to say to me, you do know where to find me." He wanted to add that he was going to go home to spend his evening with his thumb up his behind because of the lack of activity the Death Eaters were experiencing as of late. Aside from late night patrols, sweeps and audits through Azkaban and random courier missions to other countries, Fierro knew that Death Eaters were only being used for no good. They were mostly drunkards; Death Eaters were known for their partying habits and cavorting with the less reputable public.

His 'banning' of Fierro's ability to speak with Callid Warren was no more than a warning. There was no way in hell he was going to let Trevor order him around like this. At least Callid listened to his opinion, allowed it to be valid as it was of course, a similar opinion he had about Lord Trevor Williams and his wretched regime. At least when he spoke with Callid and that Bristow bloke, he didn't feel like he had to keep his eyes from locking with theirs, like he had to hide his true feelings at all times. Trevor continuously made him uncomfortable and Fierro was itching to remove him from his seat...

...but all in due time. For now, he had to sit and wait and plan. "Farewell, my Lord." And with that, he finally made his exit, after what seemed like an eternity of being under his careful watch and interrogation. His right hand squeezed tightly into a fist, his knuckles practically turned white.
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