Peace is a Myth

Angelique took little pleasure in the girl's timid demeanour.  Anyone with half a brain would react the same way to a Death Eater offering assistance.  Indeed, Angelique had taken advantage of her training to cause her victims exquisite pain before.

A simple diagnostic spell indicated the girl had bleeding in her lungs, as well as the external injuries. 


As D'Eath came to the end of a rant that, while she was sure made sense to him, certainly made none to her, Angelique took the opportunity to speak into the silence.  The segue was really too good to pass up.


"I assume that means it's okay if this one dies then?" she suggested.

A loud yawn came from the doorway of the meeting place. There, Marley Harris stretched her arms wide as her mouth contorted to allow a long loud yawn out. She dropped her arms and blinked blearily at them all, certainly looking a sight in her dark jeans and frumpy grey jumper. Her dirty blonde hair was mussed up, and hung down to her ribcage or so. She was new to the manor but she had found the place, it seemed.
 
Evan appeared in the door behind her, holding her bag and wand. She turned and reached out, and he placed the wand in her hand. He held out the purse but she shook her head, instead holding out her arms to he could pull her cardigan over her shoulders. She then walked slowly into the room and took the chair at the head of table, sinking down into her, her bored eyes looking about the room, taking in each individual.
 
It had been quiet for some time now. Weird.
 
“Oh, right!” she says. “You don’t know who I am. I’m Marley, a friend of Bentley’s. Um, Sofie Elkin is one of my references, if you – if any of you know her.” She was only the Russian Head Death Eater, after all. “I guess I’m the new boss lady around here.”

(ooc: can i presume i can reference lorcan reading marley in and not re-visit that again? yes?)


Marley's arrival had temporarily interrupted the meeting.  It was hard to ignore her, disheveled as she was.  Well, she hadn't been hired to look pretty.  She had been hired for skills. Still, he remained flat and emotionless at her entrance. He intended to excuse her appearance this time, but if she ever arrived at his door less presentable, he might be tempted to fry her on the spot.  To Lorcan, while appearances weren't everything, they still did matter in pureblood society.

"Good evening, Ms. Harris.  Glad you could join us," he said.  He looked at the others. "Ms. Harris replaces Ms. Du Hunt, and, as such, your mission directives will come from her, and business matters will remain with me so that she and you all can focus on more pressing matters.  Oh, that reminds me.  Our guest.  Ms. Pyrites, while one less Order member would be good news for me, I would appreciate you delaying your plans until I'm done using her.  At the moment, I think I have use for her, at least unless Ms. Harris disagrees. You may dispose of her as you like after that, if you wish, though.  Thank you."


He took a moment to catch Marley up on the reason he'd sent for them all--the night's developments and his need for them to eliminate the Order. From what he knew of Marley, he didn't expect her to object.

I guess I'm the new boss lady? Angelique found herself pining for the days when Sandra had been the "boss lady", even though Angelique had still been in school back then.  At least back then things had been halfway interesting.

"Not that I'd turn down the opportunity to dispose of her myself or anything, but I'm afraid Mister Rookwood has already done the honours," she clarified.

"She's bleeding into her lungs and she'll drown to death on it if we don't get her somewhere with more extensive healing facilities than this.  I can probably delay it but blood in the lungs isn't something that can be cured with wand and a medikit," she explained off-handedly.  "There may not be any point healing the rest if she's going to die anyway."

She paused a moment. 

"Unless, of course, you want to use her death to frame the rest of the Order?  In that case you might want to reconsider the placement of some of the wounds."

He didn't doubt Pyrites' assessment for a moment. He wasn't a healer, but the fact that the woman was in bad shape was pretty obvious. He hadn't known it was that bad. He turned and glared at Rookwood, but he had the feeling it would make about as much of an impact on the man as if Lorcan were casting the evil eye at a naughty schoolboy. Rookwood was generally fairly unrepentant, in Lorcan's experience.

"I had hoped we could leave her alive," he sighed.  "I have found that there's typically been a strong emotional bond amongst most Order members. There is little more than I've seen to their hackles more than for them to find one of their own has been wounded.  Especially someone, well, passive?  

"My thought was that so long as she's here she might as well listen in anyway and then I had intended to send her back to the Order and deliberately let her relay our intentions, flat out.  I want them to know we're coming. After all,Merlin forbid we be...unethical about it," he said with a touch of sarcasm.  "And Rookwood has provided us a bit more incentive that we do mean what we say. If we've been given a gift horse, well, you know what I mean."

He shrugged casually. "I suppose, if we decide to keep her alive, we ought to drop her on St. Mungo's doorstep, then. Unless someone has a better thought."

Marley hummed pleasantly, drumming her fingers along the table as Lorcan introduced her. She said nothing, just smiled peacefully, and they seemed to move on. She was surprised - Death Eaters were typically a very ambitious bunch, and so she was surprised there was not more of an uproar that there was an outside hire for their new leader. Surely, someone here had been hoping to take the job for themselves. Perhaps this was why she was needed. Docile Death Eaters.
 
Well, that wouldn’t do.
 
She let them all talk – she was a woman of action. Business bored her unless there was profit to be made. And, honestly, the d’Eath patriarch had seemed pretty keen on maintaining some foothold. For now, it made more sense to allow him the grasp, as he did have the resources and connections to cause trouble for her. At least until she had made enough connections to feel less likely to end up on the streets, out of luck. She could be patient.
 
“Ooh, take her to get healed,” Marley said, nodding, drumming a hand on her other hand. “Debt is nice, really nice. Just make sure she can’t talk – however you will.” She rocked in her chair, glancing over at the Order member. “Besides. She’s pretty. It’d be a waste.”

"I doubt the Order will feel indebted to us for refraining from killing their little friend," Angelique opined. 

"Last time I suggested that to one of them, he got ever so haughty with me, especially considering who was holding the knife."

Okay, it had been a werewolf, not an Order member, and she'd been holding a needle, but nobody here needed to know that.



"Besides, I thought the whole point was for her to blab to everyone?  Or do you need me to make it look like we tried to stop her blabbing?  It's not like the healers aren't going to take the charms off her.  You know, you two really need to be on the same page if you're working together now."

Marley turned back to look at... Ms Pyrites, right. It was going to be awhile before she figured out everyone's names - if she bothered. Nicknames were fun too.

"I wasn't thinking about the Order," Marley said placidly. But how much more could she say without compromising the very plan? She had found Order members were very conscientious about who spared their lives. But, if she saaaaaid that, what would keep Eleanor from just spiting her?

Duuuuh.

Ugh.

"We improvise," Marley said, shrugging. "Take what you can. And sometimes you get a bit of both. Pooooint is, we don't want her dead, and we still have lots of planning to do. Soooo, who's taking her off the hospital? This is getting boring."

"Yes," Angelique replied, "Well. I was trying to give you the opportunity to cover up your lack of mental acuity."

She looked at Lorcan. Whatever had made him think this deadbeat pixie would be effective at anything, let alone trying to organise Death Eaters, was anyone's guess.

"You could take her," she pointed out. "Since we're boring you so much."

"And you're doing brilliantly at it," Marley said, chipper as ever, mentally noting the woman as one of those people who never felt happy unless she felt superior. She could so easily bring up the point that she, an outsider, had been made leader before the woman, and surely that meant something about what people believed of her mental acuity, but she let it slide. Marley had little to gain from publicly humiliate her. When it came down to it, actions spoke louder than words, and Marley would soon be screaming throughout Britain.

"I suppose you'd like to stick around so you can help the team. Sweet of you," Marley simpered at her, before straightening up. "Evan can take her," Marley chirped. Her blonde, chiseled manservant immediately stepped forward and approached the woman. "Unless, Mr, d'Eath has anything he'd like out of her." She paused and glanced over at the patriarch.