This House is Not a Home

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Lord V. !

Shadows pressed around him, the pallid white of his skin shining bright in the shadows. His fingernails clicked against the mahogany table, red eyes staring at the walls. The task should have been completed by now, the three Murders should be dead by now, and Lestrange and Snape should have returned. It was irritating, sitting here and waiting for them to return. He couldn't make a move, not with all the "good" wizards watching, waiting for him to rear his head. What was the point of being the most powerful thing that ever existed, if he couldn't do a damn thing?

His face contorted into a scowl, and his gaze switched between the oak doors, the fireplace, and the wall where he had been staring previously. Any second now, everyone would show up and beg forgiveness for being late. Not that he would accept it, of course. They needed to learn to arrive when called, or accept the pain that came from being late. He had been leniant as of recently, and it had been a mistake. But he had been excited by the prospect of having the Murder twins added to his ranks. Even if it wasn't by choice. Now, they had one. Obey his orders, or die.

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[prongs]

A crack was heard in the air, and two dark figiures stood outside the Drawing Room, the two sisters Jacobs.
Alina walked in front of her sister, a fearful but respecting glance at the room. Even the room held a certain air, an aurora of power and darkness that she thrived on...
"My Lord." she said in a loving tone, bowing down. She looked around at the empty room, muttering something that sounded like the word 'cucumber'.
Kyra was still and stiff with fear, but she nodded in respect to Voldemort, unable to do anything else. She took her seat, and Alina grabbed the one next to her.

The fireplace made a fiery emerald green explosion. Balthazar Sanguine stepped out, ducking to make sure he didn't hit the stone roof of the fireplace. One of his pant legs looked rather torn, as if he was trying to escape something, but the rest of him looked stable enough.
His deep brown eyes circled the room once, twice, three times. He seemed in a state of paranoria, but every Death Eater did at one time or another.
"My Lord." he said in an indifferent tone, bowing low. Balthazars gaze flitted over to the sisters, and he nodded his head to them. Without another word, he took his seat, waiting for the meeting to begin.
The room seemed dark and ominous, and Kyra made a shiver. The guilt of Darien's murder hung over her, feeling she was choking in thick water, but she knew it didn't bother Alina at all. That alone made her fear.
Alina gazed only respectfully and lovingly at Lord Voldemort, the large scar that had come from when Xanthe Murder stabbed her seeming to look more noticeable this night.
Balthazar scowled at Alina, looking at Lord Voldemort while lowering his head in a weak like manner.
"My Lord," he began in his low and deep voice, his eyes closing, "If I have permission, I would like to say a word about...our newest recruits."

[Miss Murder]

Snape

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Snape felt Rabastan’s fist collide with his skull, and he recoiled, a hand to his temple. He was slightly bent over, knocked completely blank by Rabastan’s punch. His ears rang; screamed from the pain welling inside his head. He blinked in the darkness a few times to regain his vision.
His thoughts were jumbled together, mixing with anger and assertion. Snape didn’t like being the one to back down from a fight, especially not after what he went through as a teenager. Cruelty at it’s finest….
He stood straight up again, turning to see Rabastan’s back to him. The man was lucky he never attacked someone with their back turned to him, since he saw this as being cowardly. Severus was not a coward; he was far from it.
Ignoring his slight headache and nausea, the headmaster stumbled past Rabastan, avoiding hitting him on the shoulder. Peacocks mewed, pecking at the grass along the gravel path to the two main doors. Severus sneered at them. They were ridiculous. Why would someone have pet peacocks in their yard, especially when the house is well hidden from others? There was no point to their existence.
His hand touched the knob to the manor lightly, and he twisted it, glancing darkly back at Rabastan. He looked away, and went inside the mansion. The nausea was beginning to cease, which was good, since the Dark Lord would definitely question why he was woozy and Rabastan was cut across the face.
Snape came to the two oak doors and entered the Drawing Room, bowing his head respectfully to Voldemort.
“My Lord,” he said deeply, his gaze on his master.
He wasn‘t even about to say what had happened just minutes earlier in Liverpool, and he wouldn‘t mutter another word until he was asked to do so. Severus knew he might get scolded for what ever reason the Dark Lord saw as a violation. Surely the injury across Rabastan‘s face would be one…
Oh, how he hated that man.
His black glare landed on the Jacobs sisters sitting at the table. They were partially silhouetted by the light of the flame that burned in the fireplace. He scowled, remembering Darien Wakefield‘s murder. He was under watch by the Ministry because of these two girls being foolish… they had killed him for no apparent reason he could think of other than to get revenge on Xanthe.
Snape heard Balthazar speak, and immediately his attention was directed to the black man. Not particularly from interest of the subject he was on, but what he was going to say. He really had to watch his mouth around the Dark Lord, especially when conversing about people involved in his orders.

(BLEH D:)

…Take off my mask and leave the lies to the liars.

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Xanthe
There's nowhere to run and hide…

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Green flames flickered beneath her feet as she appeared in the fireplace, her emerald eyes giving off a sickening neon glow. Xanthe stepped out of the blaze quickly, fearing she’d wait too long and set herself on fire. That wouldn’t be a very good memory to have about her first real Death Eater meeting, and it‘d make her look stupid in front of everyone.
She wore a dark green cloak, which was clasped right at her collar bone. It flowed from her as she walked towards the small group of Death Eaters, trailing the floor behind her. Her eyes narrowed when she saw the Jacobs sisters at the long table, sitting there beside each other.
Instantly, Xanthe looked away from them, her gaze being set to her feet. Frankly, she was nervous about confronting the two girls again, considering she hardly remembered the night Darien was murdered. She could only recall when she had stabbed Alina in the face, and Kyra was there, then she hit her head… that’s it.
She halted beside Snape, standing a few feet away from him, seeking a sense of protection. Xanthe clasped her hands together and sighed, quivering a little. It was frightening to be a slave to the Dark Lord, a follower, yet it made her proud. Voldemort had actually wanted her to become a Death Eater. That had to be a compliment if there ever was one. But what did the dark wizard truly want from her? Surely he just doesn’t hand pick Death Eaters randomly from Hogwarts, or there would be plenty of them here.
Xanthe looked to the fireplace, waiting for her brother Xavier. She was growing volatile, being here practically alone. She wasn’t faint of heart, but being around all these older and much more skilled wizards was intimidating, so she had to be on her toes. Especially knowing that every single one of them had the power to kill, and have done so. Including herself.

…When you‘re living to die.

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