What does Death Eater mean to you?

Technically, it was Sally's turn, but Sandra didn't really care. She stepped forward instead, and there was a moment of burning pan as the mark shifted, rearranging itself on Sandra's arm. She hissed, but otherwise bore it, looking at the new mark with a critical eye.

"Acceptable," She said finally. "At least I don't have to keep hiding it with magic. And some flowers is a lot less incriminating than a skull and snake. This will certainly make civilian life easier," Sandra murmured. The letters on her mark began to shift, finally aligning themselves into the word NOAH.

Noah. Easy choice. Caelani would no doubt be keeping track of whoever appeared on their marks, hoping to use that person against them. Noah was, technically, closer to her than anyone else - he was her son after all. It just spoke to Sandra's detachment that she didn't really care whether he lived or died. Last she had heard of him, he had been sorted into Gryffindor. Such a waste of perfectly good genes too.

Flint supposed he may as well go next. He stepped out of the doorway and moved forward. He to felt the burning sensation on his old mark. He grunted angrily and when he was finished he stepped back. He looked at it and frowned, flowers. Why flowers? But, he covered it for many years before, he'll do it again for another however many he had left. He saw the words 'DAISY' appear over the tattoo. His wife, his first girlfriend and lifelong sweetheart. Oh joy, now they knew what to use againts him. He cared about his wife, her and his children...all he had left. Well next to Ozzy, Mikey, and Thaor of course...and his dad. Okay he had quite a few people left in his life!

Ne'Os rolled his eyes as he watched the other skipped Sally figuring that she probably wouldn't take her turn soon after Flint he waited for his tattoo to be finished before he stepped forward to receive his own. He smiled as he watched the skull and snake transform into a small simple white flower. Chuckling slightly he rubbed his arm rubbing away the pain and walked back to his original spot so he could watch the proceedings.

Marla slipped into Malfoy Manor and found where she was supposed to be meeting. Her dark eyes met those of the woman who was going between the others, branding them with the Dark Mark. For a moment she watched, before her eyes trailed over the others, sizing them up as she always did whenever she was immersed with new people. Finally, some of the activity slowed down and Marla pushed a dangerous smirk onto her face and approached the main woman, who she knew to be the new Dark Lady, Ca-something or other....

"Marla Higgins. I could not arrive earlier, I apologize for the inconvenience." She smiled wilder, to indicating she was apologizing, but she was not too sorry. "So what did I miss? 'Down with Mudbloods' and 'Down with the Ministry.' Oh, and some tattoos. Let's do it." She held out her arm as well and when she received the brand, she looked down.

There was a banner as well that read 'Luca.' This erased her cocky nature immediately, the reminder of her dead friend. She glanced up at the Dark Lady and felt a bit of foreboding enter her. Damn. She really would come to respect the woman, she could tell. Did not mean she would like her, but she would make some effort to do what she was told. She dropped her arm and remained near the wall of the door, standing erect and watching the others.

Remy was in bed when the dark mark on her arm burned, and she was not alone.

“Shit,” the dark-haired woman had cursed under her breath, prying herself off of her partner, a middle-aged ministry man with a lot more money than he had hair. He was one of her regular leech subjects, and for good reason: every night she saw him, she drank for free and walked away with a check to ensure her “discretion”.

It’s a good thing I always get paid before I play… Remy thought to herself as she grabbed her bra and underwear from off the floor, slipping into them and then sliding on her jeans, socks, and boots. Her blouse was hanging over the back of a plush leather armchair, and she snatched it, pulling it over her shoulders and letting her fingers move quickly over the buttons, all the while Mr. Ministry sat pouting in the bed, having been deprived of his happy ending. Remy knew his wife would be home tomorrow, which meant his fantasy week with his raven-haired mistress was over, and this likely wasn’t the way he had envisioned it ending.

“Where are you going?” he whined, trying to sound demanding but it came across as something much more pitiful. That might have been attributed to the pale, chest sticking up from beneath the sheets and the wrinkles that formed on his forehead, only adding to those that age had given him.

“It’s a meeting,” Remy replied hastily, turning away from him and forcing her arms through the sleeves of her jacket, checking the pockets to ensure that the check was still there, along with the bracelet he had given her the night before, “I almost forgot about it. You can be so…” Remy paused here to give a seductive smirk, leaning forward toward him and reaching a hand out to stroke his jawline.

“…distracting,” she finished with a coy smile, briefly touching her lips to his and then standing abruptly back up. This empty flattery seemed to placate him, and he leered greedily at her before she turned away from him once more.

Disgusting old man… Remy thought to herself, though betraying none of this on her features. She grabbed her leather bag, sitting on a chair near the door, and turned only for a moment to say goodbye, a pleasantry she would likely not even have bothered with if this man had been any less wealthy. But as it was, she knew she would want to end up here again – not for the company, but for the capital – and you don’t bite the hand that feeds you.

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It was fortunate that the house she had been inhabiting for the past few days was in the more upscale part of the wealthy district, because it meant Malfoy Manor was within walking distance. Still, because she had been delayed in departing and because she could not apparate, she would be late to this meeting. Remy pulled her coat around her against the winter wind as she passed uninterrupted through the wrought iron gates and walked through the unlocked door and the foyer to arrive in the ballroom, in which were milling about a dozen death eaters, all focusing their attention on a blond woman in the middle, whom Remy easily recognized.

Caelani Bittel, new Dark Lady. Remy easily identified, having already done some reconnaissance on the woman when she realized early on that Caelani was powerful. She had always been a silent threat in the inner circle of Death Eaters, and though Remy did not belong among the black-hooded elite, she had always stayed among the Death Eaters for their power. They served a purpose for Remy, and for no other reason did she belong.

Remy had heard rumors for a while now that Sandra would no longer be in charge of the Death Eaters, and although Remy had not known who was slated to take her place, she was not altogether surprised to find it was Caelani. The woman was now moving about the room, altering the dark marks on her followers arms, a process Remy picked up on when she watched a wreath of wormwood replace the skull and serpent on another Death Eater’s arm.

As there seemed to be no particular order of who stepped up when, Remy moved into the ballroom after a petite, dark-haired woman she knew as Marla, but whom had never really captured much of Remy’s attention. Standing before Caelani, Remy pulled back the sleeve of her jacket and exposed her forearm, nodding approvingly at Lady Bittel in a way she knew the woman would want to see.

“A wise choice,” Remy said simply in reference to Caelani’s appointment as head of the Death Eaters, knowing the blond woman to be quick-witted enough to pick up on what she was referencing. Approval was an easy emotion to imitate – it didn’t actually require a lot of feeling, and there were many versions of it from which to choose.

She made no explanation for her tardiness, but if Caelani was curious, Remy would have an answer at the ready: Business with the ministry. Remy’s appointed role in the death eaters had always been part research, part spy. Sandra had noticed immediately how well Remy managed to win people over and had given her a job that played perfectly into Remy’s lifestyle. She could play into the hearts and minds of as many powerful and rich men as she wanted, and at the end of the day, she could write it off to any of her fellow Death Eaters as an assignment. How perfect.

Caelani did not hesitate to carry out the same spell on Remy’s arm as she had done with all the others, causing Remy’s skin to burn for the second time that night. Wincing, she lowered her eyes to watch the tattoo shift and change into blossoms. A moment later, a banner was wound around the ring, on which was neatly written REMY. A quick look around told the dark-haired Death Eater that the other members of their “cause” did not have their own names emblazoned on the tattoo. Not wanting to draw attention to this anomaly – she did not know the meaning of the names and thus could not know if this was a good thing or a bad thing – Remy let the sleeve of her jacket fall back down over her forearm and stepped to the exterior of the room, letting shadows fall around her as she surveyed the new leader and the reaction of the other Death Eaters to their altered situation.