The Gaining of Profits in Order to Survive

Lorcan was not bothered by Elldir's arrogance. Apparently, though, he had fallen from grace at the Ministry as well as in the Death Eaters and was looking to bring a bargaining chip of some sort to the table to find a safe haven. Lorcan was interested, first, in not having the manor's new decor destroyed. And, second, if he had anything that was truly of any value, then Lorcan was interested in hearing it.

"Stand down immediately," Lorcan said firmly. "All of you. There will be no brawling or dueling in the house. The rules have changed somewhat here, and that is why your leader called the meeting. If anyone still feels a need to keep his or her wand at the ready, do take it outside to exercise it. I would much rather, though, you all stopped wasting time." He paused and looked at Elldir.

"If you have news, then tell it," Lorcan said. "My apologies but it does seem that you will need to earn your trust back in most circles in the wizarding world right now. And if you intend to start that with us, then by all means, do so."

As usual, Remy Devaul has been slow to enter the conversation at the Death Eater meeting. Her role within the group was minimal and everyone here knew it, save for a few new faces that might not have recognized her. Surprisingly, Remy didn’t recognize all of them, either, as a few new faces were joining the crowd today. Each arrived with varied degrees of interest from the rest of the group – Zada commanding her usual attention by entering wearing something excessive, the Russian girl because she was new and looked like a child porn star, and of course, there was Thaor.

Obviously, the former leader’s entrance caused quite a stir, and not for no reason. The man had ratted them out earlier in the year, just as soon as he saw Grindelwald’s demise on the horizon. Remy couldn’t exactly blame the man for wanting to save his own skin – she did the same thing all the time – but popular sentiment among the group seemed to be to blame and hate him with gusto, so Remy went through the effort of summoning the appropriate facial expression to imitate the emotion she wasn’t feeling, but would do well to fake.

More than one person in the group already gathered attacked Elldir upon his entrance, which was unsurprising to Remy. Tensions typically ran high at these meetings, and everyone hated everyone else, mostly on account of the fact that they were all power-hungry narcissists. Remy was usually able to avoid most of the direct arguing by simply playing the game the way she always did – she didn’t want the power, she just wanted to be near it.

But tonight, Remy was forcibly drawn into the argument when Thaor, in the process of trying to deflect the negative attention away from himself, directed his full gaze on her and proclaimed for all the room to hear that she was a squib.

Now, under normal circumstances, Thoar’s challenge probably would have made Remy panic. He wasn’t completely correct – Remy could do exceedingly basic, rudimentary magic – but she was nowhere near as capable as everyone assumed her to be, simply because she had graduated Hogwarts and existed among the magical community, an assumption Remy was more than happy to let them hold on to. Remy’s biggest fear was that she would be exposed for her lack of magical ability, but tonight, she did not panic.

Because Thaor had unknowingly picked the worst possible scenario in which to try to out her to the world.

Remy was sporting a smirk of deep self-satisfaction as she looked up at Elldir, not evening attempting to hide the mocking contempt from her gaze. Lorcan tried to calm the older man out of his willfulness to engage the Death Eaters in duels, but Remy was way ahead of him.

“That proclamation won’t be necessary, Lorcan. I wouldn't dream of wasting my time or energy on traitorous scum,” Remy said, mustering respect as long as she was addressing him, but then dropping it immediately as she turned back to Thaor.

“As to you, Thaor,” Remy said calmly, not rising to his obvious bait, but taunting him by using the name she knew he did not prefer, “You may have been living in a cave trying to hide from all the people that want you dead on account of your traitorous ways, so I guess that explains the utter stupidity of your challenge. In case you hadn’t noticed from the fact that my skin is green,” Remy said sarcastically, raising her arms to demonstrate the obvious, “I have the plague. And as such, have lost my full magical capacities along with everyone else.”

A lie, obviously, but it was so perfectly suited to the situation, that Thaor looked even more incompetent than usual. Poor thing.

“You’re off to a great start by getting back into our graces,” Remy said sarcastically, lowering her arms and leaning back casually in her chair, “If your information from the ministry is as outdated as your knowledge of what is affecting a huge portion of the magical population, I think we ought to let Zada kill you now.”

Aaron did not talk to her when she sat down, instead he returned his attention to the argument at hand, and he could do nothing but roll his eyes. Every meeting seemed to grow more and more childish, and it only furthered his idea's that the Death Eaters were nothing more than a bunch of children who thought they could get somewhere by joining the group. Half of them were arrogant fools who believed in outdated ideals, the other half were followers who could do nothing without guidance.

When Thaor accused the Remy woman of being a squib, a small smile came over his face, and he decided it was his time to enter the argument. He turned to the woman next to him, the smile still on his face, and he spoke softly. "Cute bunch, aren't they? It is like this every time." He chuckled to himself at his own joke, often times finding himself amusing, before he stood up to face the rest of the room.

"If I may interject," He started, speaking loudly, and letting everyone know that he wanted the floor. "The traitor raises an accusation, that I myself, find to be particularly audacious. If she is, indeed, a squib I vote that her mind be examined." He turned and gave her a very sinister smirk before continuing. "I am sure if she has nothing to hide then you will not mind if one of us examines you, do you? I am quite skilled in the art of Legilimency and can offer my skills, unless you would all rather take the route of ignoring such a claim?"

"Thank you, but no, Mr. Marcheti," Lorcan said. "Ms. Devaul's record here speaks for itself. Her participation in the faction is well documented in our records. I do not believe we need concern ourselves with her abilities. If legilimency is to be used at any point this evening, I do not believe she would be the subject we need to concern ourselves with. She is valuable to us. Leave her be."

Lorcan had to wonder if Elldir was overestimating the Lupins' patience. He simply smiled. Time would surely tell. And, if he could not win back any sort of trust in the Death Eaters, the line of people who wanted him dead would grow in leaps and bounds. He did not envy Elldir's position in the world right now.

Remy was right. The man looked like he'd been sleeping in caves and living on the run for quite awhile now. He had had the connections at one time to live like a king, not a homeless castaway. Perhaps Elldir had burned one too many bridges. However, desperate men needed sometimes to do desperate things to survive. He was interested in knowing whatever it was that brought Elldir back to them with the promise of something juicy. For Elldir's sake, that juicy morsel had better be worth it or Elldir might well have difficulties leaving the room alive.

Remy had thought her response to Elldir would have ended that conversation abruptly, especially combined with Lorcan’s rebuking of him. But no. The Marcheti idiot had to go sticking his nose into it. Remy narrowed her eyes at him as he smirked down at her, suggesting that she have her mind examined. It was in situations like these that Remy was glad she experienced no emotions; she had none to give her away. Right now, she only felt annoyed, rather than panicky or angry, which would have made her overly defensive with Aaron.

But she certainly didn’t like him.

Remy was opening her mouth to give one of her typical snide remarks, but again, Lorcan interjected before she had the chance to reply. Remy’s eyes moved over to the dark-haired man who had come to her defense, listening to his rebuke of Marcheti and Elldir’s claims. She couldn’t figure out why he would come to her aid so readily, seeing as she was so very low on the Death Eater totem pole. She didn’t remember ever having slept with him, and try as she might, she couldn’t figure out his angle in siding with her over the more powerful members. He had even called her valuable.

What are you playing at, Mr. D’Eath? Remy thought curiously, wondering if he truly believed what he had said, or if he was protecting her in spite of his knowledge that Elldir and Marcheti were very much right. Remy couldn’t imagine the latter was the case, and was mentally patting herself on the back for having stuck with this useless, rag-tag bunch long enough to be trusted by default. Apparently that had its perks… like not dying a painful death at the hands of Aaron Marcheti and his cronies.

“Thank you, Mr. D’Eath,” the dark-haired woman said with sincerity, not having to fake it because she was genuinely glad not to be outed. She intentionally kept her gaze on the object of her gratitude, and pointedly away from Marcheti and Elldir, to convey clearly how little she cared for them, “I hope I can continue to prove my value to you in the future.”

Naomi did not move her face from the action. She had tipped her head back slightly, her chin pointing slightly and her eyes darted from person to person. This certainly was delicious- and yes, delicious was the right word. Oh, it would be so appetizing to tear a few of these fools to pieces. Thaor for his self importance. Emof for his lack of power. D'Eath for his delusions of power. Zada for her delusions of power AND self importance. Remy, well, Naomi wished to like Remy, really, for the sake of women sticking together. But if these claims had foundation, Remy as Naomi had never had the privilege of sampling squip before.

Something bothered Naomi, however. Naomi identified one of the only ones to remain silent as one Mr. Aaron Marcheti, so she leaned towards him and muttered in a voice only he could hear, "When did D'Eath become so popular here? He sure speaks with authority does he not?" Though her words were private, a small smile and glare rested on Lorcan, not afraid to let him know she had caught him.

Sofie was appalled. She did not look frightened or angry or even repulsed, just... confused. Sofie rarely judged others, because she was often informed of the stand she was to take. She took action. She trusted her family and they had directed her. Without direction in this country all alone, she was having to make her own decisions, and the best way was to take it all at face value. What she saw was disappointing. People claimed the Russians were dispassionate and stiff- at least they managed to get through their meetings. No guest would have gone ignored for so long, nor forced to witness this. What if she had been a spy? She could have retired on the money this information had given her.

What Sofie did not realize, is that she was perhaps being neglected as one of the most valuable resources in the room. A new set of eyes always benefited and organisation, but thus far, she had been coldly received and largely ignored. Had Sofie believed she could make her own decision, she would have left. The urgings of her late father, however, kept her rooted to her spot.

The man spoke to her and she lifted a light hand to her head and rubbed her temple. In a quiet voice, she said, "I must remember to start a fund for pain potions, then." This... D'Eath fellow. Sofie was beginning to become embarrassed. It seemed he must be co-leader or something. He was speaking with as much authority as Emof. As the latter addressed her she quietly thanked him and then turned to D'Eath, "And I apologize. It seems I have ignored the other head here. I was only informed Mr. Emof led the Death Eaters. I am new and still learning, it seems, the way things work around here."

The Death Eaters had a nasty habit of playing games, games that no one really wanted to be a part of. The warmth of the room was the only soothing force there and Alistair revelled in the feeling as the heat spread across his aching shoulders. He was weary, still, from work in the shop. A glance at his watch poking out from the cuff of his shirt made his body implore with Alistair more fervently that it was time to head to bed. He couldn’t though, this he knew, however much he wanted to.

Alistair merely watched what was going on around the room, observing the way Thaor was quick to pick the only real, legitimate woman in the room. Merlin knew the Russian and the Werewolf didn’t count. Alistair’s eyes narrowed at Aaron and he moved from behind Zada, no longer concerned with restraining her.

Alistair turned his head towards the outspoken Greyback and was unable to keep the sneer at bay as he moved back to stand beside Augustus. “He does indeed, werewolf,” Alistair responded callously. “Well spotted. I’m glad your mind hasn’t completely gone to the dogs.”

Ne'Os had been silent for the passed few minutes while he watched the situation slowly deteriorate. He wanted to get a fix on those around him before he did anything. He noticed most of them were sick and only a few of them had the ability to joke about it. He ignored the Elkin girl for the moment as she introduced her self. He had never really felt the Russian death eater group was helpful to their cause. He gave Zada a small smile when she entered.

This was the point the room's atmosphere changed. Thaor had entered and Zada noticed as well as the whole room. Natrully this brought on accusations and threats. Lorcan spoke to diffuse the situation. Ne'Os decided that he had seen enough. He stood and drew his wand and addressed the room. "I will have no more of this bickering. Thaor is welcome to stay and the news he has will be shared with myself after we are done here. If I decide that news is worthy of all of your's attention. Then I will share it with you. My new Russian friend. I offer my condolence. Your father and his group was very valuable to us. Zada. Welcome back I must apologize about your unwilling part in our recent dealings with Grindelwald. And to the D'Eath family. Thank you so much for restoring the manor to its proper state. I must apologize for the current state of its guests. They don't seem to remember that they are guests here." he said emphasizing the last couple sentences.

"Now If all the side conversations are done. Lets begin. As you have noticed most of us are very ill. So that being said you also know our magic is a bit wonky. I would suggest we don't cause to much trouble. Next I wish to inform all of you I have opened a shop in knockturn alley called the Artificium I have plans for it but I will hold off for now on bringing people in it until I'm sure they will work." He paused for a bit to see if anyone had anything to add.

Lorcan could feel Zada's tension, but she had backed down a wee bit. Alistair had been a calming influence. Actually, Lorcan found the situation rather intriguing. It seemed Elldir was not welcome much of anywhere, but Emof wanted to hear what Elldir wanted. And it seemed that the Death Eaters did need a wee bit of organization again. Lorcan was just going to wait and see how this little bit of drama played itself out.

He had heard of the Artificium, although he hadn't been in. He had been busy on business of his own. He looked at Emof.

"Am I to presume that this might be a bit of a shell company, Mr. Emof," Lorcan asked. "If that is the case, then might I ask, just for my own information, of course, what does the 'legitimate' business do? And how can we support you in whatever business the Artificium does?"