Your {VeInS} run D-R-Y || Mary

[``bellatrix ariadne black]

Bellatrix sauntered down an alleyway, her silver pools smothered with black shadow and eyeliner. Her dark lashes were long and full, making her appear to be a sort of dangerous spider making its way towards a particular prey. But, she rather liked it like that. Anyone that got in her way would pay the price of death, unless she was in the mood for torture. Her fingers twitched as she walked along, the electricity shooting through them like lightning. She was anticipating a battle for this night. Something about the air around her was giving her these signs. She could even smell a mudblood nearby. She could smell that filth anywhere. But, she didn't let it bother her. She would wait for the prey to come to her. It was more fun than the chase, really. What fun was running after someone when they could just as easily fall into an already built trap?

Smirking to herself, Bellatrix continued on her path to her favorite pub. She remembered that night with Lily, but she knew that no one would remember her. She made sure that none of the workers or regulars really noticed her. She was keeping to her word that she would lie low. Well, maybe just for a little bit. She made sure to only kill those that didn't really matter. But, to her, mudbloods didn't matter, either and her Lord had told her not to go around killing magical folk. It would cause to many warnings to go off in more wizards' minds. And, if he wanted to recruit people, she would have to hold back on the slaughtering. But, sometimes she disobeyed him. She didn't really care sometimes, because her sanity slipped away from her quite quickly. Most of the time there wasn't much she could do about it. But, she was trying to control it. Sometimes to no avail.

Grinning wickedly as she stepped into the pub, she shed her black cloak, throwing Imperius curses all around her so that none of them would remember seeing her when she left. Ordering herself a firewhiskey, she went in and sat down at her favorite table, throwing her cloak over the chair and taking a swig of her drink. She giggled to herself, her silver pools alight with insanity. She hadn't killed in a couple of days and she was beginning to lose it. She needed to take the life of something else to regain her own strength. Otherwise, she might go completely insane. Killing made it easier. It helped her to feel in control. Her left eye twitched. "That's it. Come closer, my precious." She could smell the mudblood now, closer and closer. She supposed her heightened senses were due to her potential loss of normal brain functioning, but she didn't notice.

She simply laughed.

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[``mary flora macdonald]

Mary’s head hurt like someone had been playing the bagpipes beside her head nonstop for the past two days, and she really hated the bagpipes for a girl born and raised in Scotland. Regardless, the fact was that Mary blessedly hadn’t heard the evil instruments since she went to one of her mother’s co-worker’s wedding last summer. You see, this headache was caused by no other than the infamous hangover many teenagers were accustomed to. She supposed the Gryffindor celebrations over their Quidditch win last night must have included a spiked punch, and Mary was easily subjected to wicked hangovers even if she had only gotten slightly tipsy the night before. Mary didn’t even remember why she dragged her sorry butt out of bed to go to Hogsmeade until she looked at the small bag of sweets in her hand from Honeydukes and a few small joke items from Zonkos. Oh right. Her little brother Nate’s birthday was coming up and she promised this summer that she’d get him sometime magic infused.

She suddenly realized just how dehydrated she was and felt relief wash over her as The Three Broomsticks came in view. That relief was short-lived. As soon as Mary had stepped inside, a wave of nausea washed over her at the heat all the bodies were giving off. The place seemed even more crowded than Madam Puddifoot’s on Valentine’s Day. Head pounding at the intensified noise, Mary quickly left the tavern desperate to find a deserted, noiseless place to sit down a nurse a hangover. Puddifoot’s would only make her gag at the sickly-sweet couples and The Three Broomsticks was already established to be out of the question. Aimlessly, she wandered down Hogsmeade to an area she wasn’t as familiar with. Spotting a shabby looking building, Mary noted the small bar attached to it. “The Hog’s Head,” she muttered to herself. The curly haired brunette had heard the odd opinions abut the disreputable establishment from fellow students, and had been advised she wouldn’t like the place. She shrugged to herself anyways. It was worth it to see if they sold an Irn-Bru.

Stepping inside the shabby building, Mary glanced at the floor to make sure she was keeping her footing. Her first thought was that the place had no flor, but after closer inspection she realized it was just extremely dirty. She did her best to not take in her surroundings after that, she wasn’t exactly sure she would be pleased with the upkeep with the rest of the place. Mary paid no attention to the few inhabitants in the place and stumbled her way to a stool at the bar. Resting her elbows on the counter and rubbing her temples, Mary quietly asked the bartender, "I don’t suppose you carry Irn-Bru? It’s a scotsman’s bevvy,“ she explained. Muggle teenagers back in her hometown had sworn that it was the ultimate hangover cure, the only problem was locating the carbonate soft drink in the Wizarding world. After hearing no reply Mary lifted her head out of her hands to look up at the bartender, “No? Well a’right, how about a butterbe-” but the Gryfindor trailed off when her dark brown eyes caught the glassy eyed look from the bartender. She furrowed her eyebrows at the man, he didn’t even look as if he could see her. She resisted the urge to turn around and look for what was out of place. That would only alert someone she knew something was up. Instead she located her wand in her robes and attempted to cover it up with adjusting her scarf. Something wasn’t right.

[``bellatrix ariadne black]

Bellatrix could smell it a mile away. The overpowering scent of mudblood, leaking in through the door and into her nostrils. Although revolting, she found it quite exhilarating. Another fly falling into the trap. How typically idiotic were all these mudbloods that Bellatrix wondered how they ever got along in the world. It was probably due to the fact that they usually became friends with Blood Traitors like James Potter and her no-longer cousin Sirius Black. The boy that she had had such high hopes for, riddled with compassion for the lesser beings. She found it disgusting and shocking, but she had always claimed that she had seen it in him when they were very young. Although having always been heartless, Bellatrix continuously boasted in the fact of observation. She noticed everything, especially the scent of those below her. There was a certain dirtiness that she detected every time one was near, a kind of sickly disease-filled smell that scent her brain into the folds of its insanity.

With a sudden stiffening of her body, Bellatrix stared icily at the door when it opened, a swift breeze carrying that disgusting scent in her direction, full of filth. How utterly irritating that someone of lower birth would have the nerve to come here on a day where she herself was trying to relax. The girl that entered had dark brown, curly hair and Bellatrix thought it very familiar. She walked with an edge of weariness, suggesting lack of sleep or something of the sort. The silver puddles in behind the pale lids of Bellatrix Black watched the mudblood painfully, the eyes of which were riddled with deep hatred and disgust. Since the raven-haired witch had made it so that there would be no noise to disrupt her thought processes, she was able to hear her quite clearly when she spoke to the bartender. Her accented voice sent her heart into an uproar of frantic beating. The Scottish accent could not be mistaken. Her nose was always right. Mary McDonald. Knowing her alcoholic beverages quite well, for she had had her share of parties and the like, Bellatrix then discovered that the girl was having problems getting through a hangover. How interesting. This would be the perfect time to mess with her mind, when she was extremely vulnerable.

Watching interestedly when the bartender she had placed the Imperius Curse, Bellatrix smirked as she noticed a sudden realization wash over the mudblood. So, she was smart. She didn't want to turn and face the greatest witch of all ages. Grinning when she saw her adjust her scarf but really reach for her wand, Bellatrix stood, her long black hair falling gently down her back, the stringiness of it tinged with lack of care. Flicking her wand towards the door and windows of the pub, she locked them all, giving no place for the mudblood to run. There was nowhere for her to go. With a giggle that she couldn't suppress, Bellatrix stepped away from her table and moved closer to Mary. "Hello, darling. Don't you think it's unwise to walk around in such a place as this with less-than-admirable characters milling about. You could get yourself into a lot of trouble." Her grin widened, the white teeth sparkling with malevolence. She twirled her wand in her fingers nonchalantly and then proceeded to lean against the counter next to which Mary was standing. It was a widely known fact that Bellatrix liked to play before she acted and she was just getting started.

Besides, she never liked making the first move.

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[``mary flora macdonald]

This was not helping her hangover. Not one bit. Mary almost excessively relied on her adrenaline to get her through situations like this. Although her pulse was speeding up, and her entire body was tense, there was no clear sense of mind that made decisions effortless. With every one of her increasing pulses, it felt as if her head was being pounded by a hammer – making her dizzier and more nauseas by the second. Taking deep breaths, Mary gripped her wand defensively with one hand and her stomach with the other.

Mary tensed at the malevolent giggle that escaped the elder witch’s mouth, but held her ground even as Bellatrix stood next to her. When Bellatrix commented on her unwise choice, Mary’s mind reeled with all the unwise choices she made in the past 24hrs. If Mary had been wise, she would have attacked while Bellatrix was busy trapping her in. If Mary had been wise, she would have left as discreetly and quickly as she could when she realized something was up. If Mary had been wise, she wouldn’t have stumbled into such a shabby looking shop. If Mary had been wise, she would have gotten Nate’s gifts and left Hogsmeade. If she had been wise, she never would have drank so much punch last night. Mary realized first-hand how the raven-haired witch maliciously liked to play games, but Mary was in no mood to play them today. Her patience had been shot from the moment she woke up this morning. Regardless, the Gryffindor girl’s strength was not one in duelling, especially against the dark arts. With an inept and hindered ability to concentrate, her spell work was even less then it normally was. It left her with no choice other than to indulge the Slytherin Alumina in her twisted pastime.

“In this day an’ age, I’m unsure if the place is goin’ to make a difference in the amount of ’admirable characters’,” Mary was secretly pleased when a yawn escaped her at the end of her retort, ”and somehow, I don’t think it’s goin’ ta be me who’s going to be causing the trouble. All I came in for was a quiet place to breathe have a drink,” she added, struggling to keep the agitation out of her voice as the effects of her hangover became more prominent and demanding once again. As she broke out in a clammy cold sweat, the hungover teen had a horrible realization;

She was going to puke.

At first it had been only a guess, but within a few jiffies of a second she bolted towards the nearest trash bin, knocking over a couple stools in the process. After relieving the contents of her stomach and spitting a few times into the bin to rid her mouth of the taste, she felt relief at the almost instant clarity of mind and loss of hangover symptoms. Wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her sweater, she remembered a certain unwanted acquaintance standing only few feet away. Shrugging, she turned back towards the eldest Black sister. ”Sorry about that, although, I bet that happens a lot to you when people realize the disgusting company they’re keeping,” she commented with a smirk. She didn’t turn her back from the dark witch while she shamelessly took a few cautious steps away from the trash bin and towards the door despite it being locked. She’d blast a hole though it to get out if it came to it.

[``bellatrix ariadne black]

Bellatrix could tell that their was a sense of ambiguity in Mary's eyes and she found it rather irritating. She wanted the girl to realize just what kind of situation she was really in, what kind of danger she had walked straight into. Narrowing her eyes with a slight frown, Bellatrix watched as she gripped her stomach. Having been quite the party-goer when she had been at Hogwarts, a smirk flickered across her face as she recognized the pain and discomfort. Honestly, the raven-haired girl had actually enjoyed the headache because she was intensely masochistic. It didn't bother her that much, however. She could use this knowledge to her advantage and attack while she was vulnerable. That was her favorite time to hurt someone, when their defenses were lowered. It gave the most beautiful results.

Giggling at Mary's remark, Bellatrix simply shrugged, thinking her to be right. One could not go anywhere without meeting someone that was less than desirable to you in some shape or form. Her eyes narrowed into silver slits when Mary yawned. She should be begging for her life, giving the Death Eater all that she had to ensure her life was not taken. Flicking her wand towards the door and thinking Colloportus!, she watched as a red 'X' appeared upon the wooden entrance. Turning her gaze back to Mary, she smiled ruthlessly. "Trouble never killed anyone unless it is prodded to do so." It didn't take much to ruffle Bellatrix's feathers for she was as unstable as they go, but she liked to make people think she was stable, even if it was hard to believe.

Silver pools watched as the girl struggled to a rubbish bin, eagerly disposing of her excess alcohol. Stepping closer to the younger piece of filth, Bellatrix's heeled shoes clacked eerily upon the wood. She raised her wand and pointed it at Mary while she was puking. She would be weakened for a few moments after doing so because of the force of such an act. Her eye twitched in contempt at her comment. With flared nostrils, she slashed her wand in the air and bellowed, "CRUCIO!" A flash of red light shot from the tip of her wand, eager to strike the mudblood before her. Watching her head towards the door, Bellatrix rolled her eyes. Why must they always run? They were in Gryffindor for Merlin's sake! Fighting for their lives should have been in their blood! Immediately, she cast the Colloportus spell upon every exit, including the windows.

She was going to have to fight.

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