| 014. |
[31 May 2010|11:32pm] |
Warded Private.
Here we are in the midst of the greatest revolution I could ever have devised - lead by the most powerful dark wizard the world has known - and yet - and yet - here I am distracted by none other than that teeny little itch I cannot scratch.
The Abomination. Something with an N, isn't it???
I can't exactly reason whether the greater presumption is the mixing of blood or the idea that any creature even remotely descended from the Black bloodline should have its education and protection in the hands of a Muggleborn. (Don't say 'it,' Bella, out of deference for the blood she shares that is yours, if you can help it.)
If she is prettier than I expect, that's a good sign. It's only natural that the parts of her that belong to me and mine would fight for every inch of her inner character and outer appearance they could claim. There must be a war within her. Her body is fighting itself, fighting the infection, the stain, coursing every moment through her bloodstream. Fighting to kill itself and survive at once.
Oh, my own poor thing!!!! How could I not send reinforcements?
Warded to Regulus.
How are you faring with your N.E.W.T's, my own admirable, grown cousin?
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| 013. Warded Private. |
[07 May 2010|11:38pm] |
It can't be many more days now, I feel, 'til I see Him - 'til we are once more in the same room. I'll stand as close as I can without prompting Him to dismiss me, without inviting the raising of His hand. I couldn't bear that.
The distance between us will appear impenetrable. It will press against me, threaten to suffocate me, until I am convinced that if I moved a finger toward Him I would meet a translucent barrier - trapping me like some wild animal for show.
I keep catching myself wishing Him ill - for shame, Bella! - just to feel that connection again, to feel my skin burn as His mind burns. I want to be swallowed up by His rage, consumed by it, to reach that euphoric place just before I might lose consciousness where there's nothing left of me, nothing else, except Him.
It seems I have more in common with the ruffian captive Wilkes than I realized. I hope the Aurors showed him a good time, particularly after the Ministry sanctioned Unforgivables.
...But that's nonsense. As though any of them can perform Unforgivables.
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| 012. Warded Private to Family: Regulus, Lucius, Narcissa, Rodolphus. |
[10 Apr 2010|09:33pm] |
I hear Andromeda Tonks made the watch list. You can imagine my disappointment that this task wasn't kept within our circle. Have any of you heard the specific assignments?
I'm sure I need not remind you all to do your best in any opportunities to keep...unnecessary details...from reaching the Dark Lord's ears. It serves no one's interests for us to be humiliated at meetings with lengthy accounts of public displays of affection for the Mudblood; playdates with the little Abomination and who knows what sort of degrading company; and non-threatening uses of Muggle devices and transportation routes.
To think being burned from the ancestral branches used to inspire enough shame in deviants to stay out of the public eye...
I am very much annoyed.
It's almost enough to make me forget Lucius and Cissy's WONDERFUL news!!! You had me fooled with your cool discretion, Cissy darling. And a son too?!! I believe Howlers of announcement to every pureblood wizarding family are in order. Maybe to the Durmstrang Headmaster as well - is that your plan? Middle of the night Howlers...this is a monumental event!!!
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| 011. Open |
[31 Mar 2010|01:35am] |
I'm at an impasse.
I can't decide which is worse: the ceaseless tide of journal entries about mutts, or the equally ilimitable number of entries about long concealed, newly revealed, somewhat congealed feelings. This is it? There aren't any other, more significant, themes for you to discuss? Does anyone not feel the pressing need for canine companionship?
You should all form a dog and feelings club, and have regular meetings about how pathetic you all are. They'd have to take place outside, of course, as both dogs and feelings are inclined to produce sticky, trickling, foul messes. Perhaps you could lay down some newspaper? From what I've heard, The Prophet isn't good for much else.
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| 010. Locked to Narcissa. |
[25 Mar 2010|12:15am] |
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Cissy dear...I chose not to make a scene at Yaxley's little gala (you've trained me well, my sweet, to a degree), but I couldn't help but (eventually) notice that your figure is leaving something to be desired. And that something is...less figure. Have you been hexed?
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| 009. Locked to DEs and Friends. |
[15 Mar 2010|02:33pm] |
There can be no order without chaos. It is the rain that washes away the grime and makes the world fresh, the violent thunderstorm, not the passive, gentle sun that follows. It is the fire that renews the forest.
They think they are the heroes of the hour, but they are nothing but the reaction. We are the action; we are the original force. We are the creators, the destroyers, the clockmakers. Time begins when we breathe, and ends when we speak. We are the gods they pray to.
I couldn't sleep last night. Some people count sheep. I imagine my insides being scrubbed clean with little brushes. Not in a poetic way. I begin with my spine, brush brush brush 'til it's shiny, white, and smooth. I bet if you did an Inside-Outside jinx on me everything would look brand-new. It can't be just in my head.
That's the shared dream we clockmakers have, isn't it? We want to make the world clean, to make it shake and quake 'til all the nasty, dirty parts fall off. We want to scrub and scrub until it is beautiful again.
I'm bleeding. I pricked my finger on the quill. Tastes like...plum sauce with cayenne pepper. Starts out sweet like honey and then has a kick to it. Rich, warm, heady.
My eyelids are heav --
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| 008. Locked to Rodolphus, Avery, Dolohov, and Rosier. |
[06 Mar 2010|06:38pm] |
I know this is last minute, but nothing comes before the work of the Dark Lord, and tonight I am his vessel. And He is, as you know, the most generous of masters with his eager, world-weary subjects.
So postpone all your evening plans, because you've won the opportunity to accompany me in the mutilation and death of four particularly reprehensible Muggles, as outlined by the Dark Lord at our last meeting.
Behave yourselves, and there may just be sweets.
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| 007. Locked to DEs/Supporters |
[25 Feb 2010|05:21am] |
I've decided that were I to follow in the footsteps of our revered great-great-grandfather Phineas Nigellus Black and become headmistress of Hogwarts (though he was at the very least headmaster in title, assuming you believe the rumors about the heels and the knickers beneath his robes, which I don't, but you can't deny he clearly had a fetish for outlandish hats), my nickname for the ages would be Bella the Expeller. That has a nice ring to it, don't you think? I'd prefer the Decapitator or the Torturer or the Purist, but none of those flow. And it's not like I think running Hogwarts would be entertaining for any more than.....a long weekend.
Now. As to our anticipated outing - Xander, Antonin, Rodolphus, and whoever else wishes to come - does anyone have a particular location in mind? I generally prefer back alleys for random play, but I have been known to free pre-captured Muggles in the snow-covered grounds behind the Manor and hunt them on an early morning. Wearing a big, black, fur cap in honor of Headmaster Phineas, of course. Whatever we do, I'm off the clock. You all can wear what you like, but it's been too long since I've wiled away an afternoon pulling last night's residues out of my hair.
Rodolphus.
I was struck with the idea that your headmaster nickname would be Rod the Rod and there would be a terrible scandal. A few minor miscalculations on some memory-erase charms and before you know it there'd be a line of petrified Head Boys in front of the Wizengamot pointing on kitchen elves to "where the big, bad man touched me."
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| OOC: Comments/Critiques/Rants |
[17 Feb 2010|02:22am] |
Here it is at last. Please feel free to tell me whatever you think of my Bellatrix, be it impassioned adulation or censure. Be gentle. <.<
Also if you need to find me and I'm not on AIM please leave a comment here! <3
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| 006. Locked to DEs/Supporters. |
[16 Feb 2010|11:54pm] |
We had rain this morning at the Manor. I went out barefoot in the back gardens and made the earthworms hop and wriggle and dance on the stones with around 15 well-aimed Unforgivables. Very well-aimed. Those are small targets.
If I get an owl from the Ministry about the Diagon Alley affair I'm going to scream.
Are the earthworms screaming? If they are, I haven't noticed. Perhaps they are inside their little minds. Don't you love the way rabbits die as though they just fell over in the middle of whatever they were doing, like mid-run, just toppled right over, with a look of pure terror on their faces? I love that. Animals are so much more expressive in fear than in any other emotion.
I love when people die frozen like that, without their muscles relaxing back into some sort of mask of dignified rest. No one who could not live with dignity is owed it in death. The Aurors can die upside-down on jungle gyms for all I care. Or make a week's well-balanced diet for one of my Lord's pets. It's been so long since I've seen Him. What if He has forsaken me? What if He prefers the loyalty and work of others to mine? I can't bear
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| Locked to DEs/Supporters |
[10 Feb 2010|08:16pm] |
This must be some kind of jest.
They dare to summon me?!?! Considering who my family is?? Who my husband's family is?!?
How many more have received these pathetic attempts to show strength from the grasping, bloated remnants of the Ministry?!? Are they really so obtuse that they have missed the revolution, mistaken the historical uprising for some tawdry horseplay in the streets? We bring them death and destruction and they OWL WITH FURTHER QUERIES?!?!?!?
...Now that I think about it, it is rather funny.
[Private to Rodolphus]
My love. Will you have your wife commanded to the Ministry for vulgar interviews by persons whose blood may have been muddied and tainted for generations?! FIX THIS.
[/Private]
Speaking of, I assume you all did well in Chester, if your experience was anything like mine. I'd like to know my plaything better, considering he was so obliging, and I left him alive so everyone might have a go...Pudgy, pathetic, glasses, whimpering, useless....ring any bells???
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| 004. Warded to DEs/Supporters |
[29 Jan 2010|07:27pm] |
In spite of a healthy regimen of "outdoor activities," there's an unfortunate allowance of domestic imprisonment in my day-to-day life. Or what Cissy would call "tranquility."
But you all will benefit from my use of this time, because I've outlined a plan for muggle retention and recreation in our new world order. They will certainly experience some alteration in their present lives, but I am convinced they shall not starve! At once.
Rather I think we should take a page from the ancients and use them for entertainment. I'm not alone I'm sure in calling for a return to gladiatorial games? We have a particular advantage over the Romans in our knowledge of magical creatures. Here's a sample program:
Act I: Two Giants v. 20 Muggles
Act II: One Dragon (on a lead) v. 30 Muggles
Intermission (chips?)
Act III: 50 Muggles v. Me
And that's just the start, before we construct an all-glass, above-ground water arena for fun with muggles and mermaids and other sea creatures!
For the theater-inclined I was thinking a live-action all-muggle Shakespeare Festival, particularly featuring a live-action Titus Andronicus done at least two or three times per season. I don't think you can really grasp what the Bard intended without seeing two muggles literally baked into pies. Personally. I want to try a dress rehearsal of sorts with house-elves but I fear my love Rodolphus would be most displeased to lose anymore of the help.
( Private to Rodolphus... )
( Private to Wilkes... )
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| [Open] |
[11 Jan 2010|10:33pm] |
We're all quite distraught just now over a very serious incident in connection with our family.
I am referring of course to the untimely death of Flipsy/Flopsy/Dipsy/Finky/Dinky, one of our treasured house-elves, often known to respond to the petname "You."
For anyone wishing to express commiseration with our loss: I'm told that the remaining house-elves would be cheered - though negligibly in negligible sums - by gifts of bon-bons, jewelry, and credit to any of the venerable establishments in Knockturn Alley.
They will of course accept any presents on behalf of the entire house.
Funny little things also appreciate symbolic gifts, such as apologies, acknowledgements of wrongdoing and/or betrayal and/or inferiority, fevered demonstrations of loyalty, and so on.
I'm sure I speak for everyone in my belief that in these uncertain times, our homes are our last, best refuge, and tragedy in the home is all the more jarring.
( Private... )
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| [Locked to DEs and Friends] |
[08 Jan 2010|04:52pm] |
Four grievances. Those damned constricting, confining masks. As if we're ashamed to show our faces!
What number was I on again?
Grievance three...I believe is the reason one of our little house-elves is in pieces (not "emotionally"). But...I forgot. If only they were all so proper and sweet and obedient as Kreacher.
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| 001 [locked to Death Eaters] |
[07 Jan 2010|10:22pm] |
And so the sun rises on one less Mudblood? Let the wizarding world rejoice!
Dry your tears, you Muggle-lovers and Blood Traitors, for you'll soon share his fate! When He says, when He wishes.
As for Rodolphus, my love, I could never have been prouder to share your name. Every time you distinguish yourself in our master's eyes, you only grow more powerful in mine.
However! One grievance, that the traitor Sirius Black is still breathing, so I understand. A broken neck, in future, would suffice...I might even forgive whomever accomplished it for taking the joy from me.
Two grievances. That it was only one, and not one hundred.
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| Playlist. |
[24 Jul 2009|11:12pm] |
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