tampered | Log; Ongoing

Current Mood: calm

Log; Ongoing

When; Tuesday, July 31st, evening
Rating; PG-13 for evil plottage.
Characters; Voldemort [

serpentheir], Herr Major [

warconductor], and Merope [

proudest_mother]
Summary; Voldemort goes to talk to the Major about becoming allies. Villains unite!
Log;

The sun had begun to set on his third day in the City, and the Dark Lord eyed the Deux ex Machina II in contemplation. As far as he knew, none of his followers were here. All there was was himself and his mother, who seemed to be terrified of magic, although he couldn't possibly imagine why. He needed to make allies, and quickly, if he was even going to stand a chance of being victorious in this place...this place with Death Gods and beings from worlds he couldn't even begin to dream of.

Voldemort turned his back on the blimp in the sky, turning his wand over in his fingers. He would have to do this very carefully, so as not to frighten Merope. "....Mother, we need to go see some friends now," he said, his high cold voice in a mocking tone of affection as he said the word "mother".

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Standing in front of the ramp, dressed immaculately in a three-piece suit, stood a solitary dark skinned vampire.

He bowed low.

"My Lord Voldermort?"

Voldemort glanced over at the newcomer, his red eyes appraising him. The man seemed to be a dignified, prideful sort of fellow, and he reminded the Dark Lord briefly of Lucius Malfoy. This man, however, was different...not human.

"Yes." Voldemort inclined his head in respect. "Wait a moment, if you will." He turned his back on the man and called out to his mother once more. "Merope...it's all right. I won't let them hurt you."

He held out one white, long fingered hand, imploringly. "Please come with me, mother?" He hissed in Parseltongue, his voice pleading.

Merope was less than willing from the mentioning of this plan. She was terrified, and though she agreed it was the best idea, it didn't mean she had to LIKE it.

And the man her son was talking to just made her even more nervous. People that smiled like that had nothing good on the mind. And he WASN'T normal. He wasn't even human.

Tom--no, not Tom--Voldemort--had been coaxing her for who knows how long...and until he spoke so softly to her in their private tongue, she conceeded. Merope stepped out from her tree and latched onto Tom's--no, Voldemort's--hand and hugged it like a life-jacket.

"....I trust you. I do NOT trust them--I will NOT trust them." She hissed back, staring at the other man. It just wasn't a good idea.

Tublacaine smiled at Merope, removed his hat, and bowed. "My lady, Herr Major extends his warmest greetings to you as well."

"I should warn you, stranger, to tread carefully with her. If any harm should befall her...well. I pity you and all of your comrades," Voldemort said matter-of-factly, the threat subtle, but there all the same. He could not afford any harm to come to her, would not allow any harm to come to her.

"Take us to Herr Major, then," Voldemort said, keeping his grip on Merope's hand tight so she knew that he was there to make sure nothing happened to her.

At being adressed, Merope shrank back some into her son. He bowed...that was a form of respect. That meant something, right? Still. She didn't want much to do with him.

Not just yet.

The 'Major' again. She had never met 'The Major', and his title made her nervous. Still, Voldemort(Tom) was sure of this...and he wouldn't let anyone hurt her. Who knows. Maybe the 'Major' was a nice man.

He would take care of her and her baby.

The Dandy nodded. "If you would please follow me?" he said, turning to the airship and walking up the ramp.

Voldemort followed the vampire, keeping Merope close. His eyes took in the interior of the blimp, his clever mind memorizing as many details as he possibly could.

"Legilimens," he whispered under his breath, taking a quick look inside the surrounding people's minds. So far, so good. They meant him no harm. He was not walking into a trap.

"This is an interesting place, isn't it, mother?" Voldemort asked her in their native tongue, for native it was for the Heirs of Slytherin, hoping that if he kept her distracted, she wouldn't be as scared. Her fear bothered him, although he could not exactly pinpoint the reason why.

She clutched his arm like a vice, looking around, seeming much like a frightened bird in a strong grip, itching to take flight. Merope looked to her son, and nodded lightly, quick to agree...

"...it smells strange. Clean. But it is...interesting...the floors. They're odd."

As they passed by an open door, the sounds of agonized screaming could be heard echoing down the hall. Tublacain turned and shot the door, spinning the wheel shut. The sign on it read "Laboratory/Holding Cell/Torture Chamber" in German.

"My apologize, we've been meaning to soundproof that hall."

_{[[OOC: FYI, Doc and Major might be difficult to Legilmens, I think. Personal mental strength and stuff. And probably mad science in the Doc's case.]]}

The Dark Lord smiled to himself as he heard the screams. He was starting to like Herr Major already, if the man had such a knack at torture. "No need to apologize to me; it is the lady I would be most concerned about. Listening to such sounds does not bother me, and is, on the contrary, pleasing to the ears."

It had been far too long since he had heard the tortured screams of a victim, and his wand hand twitched involuntarily, longing for a chance to kill.

"Herr Major lives in a very interesting place. Why take to the skies?" Voldemort inquired politely, before muttering to Merope in his serpent's tongue, "Herr Major will undoubtedly offer us food. Do not eat or drink anything until I tell you to, understand?"

What was WRONG with these people?? Merope CLUNG to Voldemort, terrified beyond rational thought now. Screaming, screaming, screaming--that means they -hurt- people, and that meant they could HURT them. They could hurt her BABY. She hated screaming...

Merope was used to pain, hurt...Merlin, she wanted to leave. She wanted to get out.

At her son's command, she nodded. Not to eat, nor drink a thing unless he said it was all right. She was so hungry, too...she hoped it -would- be all right.

"..I hate the noises here. I hate them..."

"Mobility," a voice said from the end of the hall, which lead into a large command bridge. "Sun Tzu said, after all, that with mobility and knowledge, one need not fear the outcome of a thousand battles."

"He shut the door, Merope, you won't be able to hear them where we're going," Voldemort reassured her quickly. It was going to be a very long, arduous road in not only building up Merope's confidence but to also make her more attuned to his tastes.

The Dark Lord smiled as his eyes found the Major. He was a plump man, blond, with glasses. And yet, for his weak demeanor, he spoke with confidence and wisdom, and Voldemort could see the cunning in those eyes. "One would almost think that he was referring to this place," Voldemort replied. "I am impressed. Your blimp is most extravagant."

Merope stared at the Major. Well...he looked kind. A..'kind' that made her nervous. She looked between her son, and the Major, and decidedly stayed silent.

It was simpler that way..and she wouldn't say--or do--anything wrong.

"Extravagant? I suppose. It provides troop quartering as well as mobility, armor, and armaments. And strategic planning."

He hit a button on a remote and a screen lit up to reveal a map of the city, with various blinking dots moving around on it.

"Welcome, my Lord Voldermot, and my Lady, to the Deus ex Machina II, the new flagship of the Millennium Orginization and the Letze Batallion."

Voldemort nodded in agreement. This man clearly knew what he was talking about. Voldemort wasn't foolish enough to underestimate him.

"This is Merope," Voldemort introduced the woman at his side, deliberately leaving out her last name. He did not wish to connect himself to the Riddle's in any way, shape or form. "...my mother, one of the last Heirs of Salazar Slytherin." He said this with pride in his voice, refusing to let Herr Major think that he would be a pawn in any scheme that the man had in mind.

"A most convenient map." His eyes darted among the dots, wondering...was one of those the boy? Was one of those Dumbledore, pacing, his brow stretched in worry as he knew it would be...? How many of his enemies were here anyway?

"One of many," the Major said, hitting another button, the map replaced by another, with lines connecting various dots, with arrows leading from here to there. He placed the remote to the side and approached them.

"A pleasure to meet you, Lady Merope, mother of the great Lord Voldermort. May I get you anything?"

Merope stood in awe of the map. The little dots, moving and gliding around, pretty little red dots, like blood, like pretty little drops of blood, blood, like pretty Tommy's eyes...

It was massive, with so so many people, and so so many places...

Merope wasn't paying much attention to the two men. If she didn't have such a death grip on Voldemort's arm, she would have gone to touch it, and follow a particular dot with her finger. One swirling around near a dark place...

Her head snapped to the Major as he spoke to her...she looked to Voldemort to see if it was all right.

"Something to eat...?"

Voldemort nodded curtly. "Food and drink, if you don't mind, Herr Major. After my battle with my adversary, I was too drained to find proper shelter or sustenance, and my mother refused to leave my side, so we are quite hungry," he explained. "Do not think that she is rude; she just finds it easier to speak in the language of serpents."

The map had changed and Voldemort surveyed it closely. The arrows and lines...connections between people, undoubtedly. Yes, the Major had done a very good job at keeping tabs on those in the City. He would need a copy of all of these maps before he left, he decided. It would be easier to manipulate the people here if he knew who they were close to.

Alhambra took a step out of the shadows. "What can I get you, then? Anything you ask for can be easily scrounged up."

--At his appearance, Merope screamed. It was a small startled scream, and she clutched Voldemort 'round the waist, now.

Merlin, these people...appearing out of nothing--and not in the USUAL way. Wizards make SOUNDS when they appear and disappear...

Voldemort glared at the vampire, then hissed to his mother, "...What are you hungry for?"

He then turned to the Major and said, "I do not care if your servants do not wish to make their presence known when it is just you or I, but while she is here, it would be most appreciated if they do not frighten her to death," his voice was cold and hardened now. It was going to be impossible for him to even start working on tapping into Merope's power if she was in fear all the damned time, and he really wished she would relax. He didn't particularly like it when people touched him.

The Major looked up at Tublicain and spoke to him in German. "//Cease skulking in the shadows. Our poor guest is easily startled, Alhambra.//"

_{[[OOC: I go sleep now. Continue tomorrow?]]}

Merope thought for a moment. In the days before she died, all her money had gone to food. Food, for her baby--and the very last thing she had was a stale tiny brick of bread, half a spoiled tomato...and bits of corn near a vender...but there, by a window--turning on a spik, savory slabs of beef...the smell was so awful, it make her bones ache...

"...roast beef." She turned a hopeful look to her son. The idea of something normal as eating made her feel a little..better.

[ooc: But of COURSE. <333]

"Roast beef for the lady," Alhambra said. He turned to Voldermort. "And for the gentleman?"

Voldemort waved his hand as if the thought of eating were an irritating fly. "The same, the same," he murmured. He normally did not eat at all, did not sleep a wink, so far was he from humanity after splitting his soul into seven pieces. But he would eat, if only to keep up the pretense that he was a normal, loving, devoted son, and not the madman that he truly was.

"Remember what I told you. Do not eat it until I have had a look at it...it might be cooked the wrong way," he told her lamely in Parseltongue; he didn't think that if he told her he was really going to be checking for poisons would be the best course of action in this situation, and would undoubtedly make her more frightened. Voldemort stroked the back of her head, the tips of his fingers just barely brushing her dark hair, in a reassuring manner, similar to when he would stroke Nagini when she hungered.

The Dandy bowed again, removing his hat, then disappeared out a door.

The Major hit a button his remote and all the screens winked out to be replaced by a swastika. He indicated seats on the other side of a table. "Please, sit, I've been keeping you standing for far too long."

Merope nodded into her son's touch. It wouldn't do to be dead, and to be sick, would it...

Merope looked at the major, then the chairs..with a small nudge she directed her son to them. She was tired, being on her feet just wasn't doing it--and with the state he was in last night, she wanted her baby to sit down. He was proud--like his father--and would never say it. So she would make it her own idea.

Pretty Voldemort.

His lips curled into a sneer at the sight of the swastika on the screen as he was nudged forward by his mother towards the seat. He sat down gracefully, eyeing the symbol behind the Major in contemplation. He remembered when the Muggles had fought their war. He had to live through six summers in the Muggle world while they fought. Bomb shelters had been erected in the back of the orphanage, meat and food rations were divided meagerly among the Muggles, and hours spent by the radio, listening for the latest news...

Not that he had ever cared. If anything, Hitler's Reich had inspired the young Tom Riddle in doing the equivalent in regarding the Wizarding World. How many blood traitors, Mudbloods, and Muggles had he killed...? Certainly not as many as the Nazi's had during the Holocaust, but it was close enough...Funny that this symbol caused so much fear in the hearts of Muggles, while his Dark Mark made those in the Wizarding world fear him....

"...I see you are a supporter of the Nazi Party?" Voldemort inquired, gesturing to his mother to sit down. "I was only a boy, a young man during that time, but I remember it well. Die Fuhrer was most influential...I must admit that his reign nudged me onto my own path to power."

"You lived through World War II?" the Major asked as he waited for his guests to sit. "The title of Major is... not symbolic. I served in Die Fuhrer's Waffen-SS, wore the black uniform of the Death's Head division, headed the Millennium Project, Die Fuhere's Secret Order 666, until the fall of Berlin."

Merope knew nothing of the war they spoke of...she hadn't lived to see it. And she and her family paid little attention to the world of muggles.

She sat next to her son and folded her hands in her lap. She was tired, hungry, and thirsty...all she cared about was getting her son--and herself--something to eat, and some rest.

The door slowly swung open, and Tublicain stepped in, bearing a loaded tray. He set them in front of Merope and Voldermort, before placing three wine glasses and a bottle of a deep red wine in the center of the table.

Voldemort nodded in assent. "I was ten years old when the war began, sixteen years old when it ended." He fingered his wand for a moment, then continued, "That is quite a position. My compliments."

His dark red eyes looked up as the food was placed before the pair, and Voldemort glanced at Merope fleetingly before leaning over the food and beverage, muttering to himself under his breath, flicking his wand in various different ways. Once satisfied that none of the food and drink was poisonous, Voldemort reclined back in his chair. "It is safe to eat and drink," he told Merope, idly pouring wine in a glass for himself.

"...Tell me more about this place. I know next to nothing about it, and this puts me at a fair disadvantage, as you can see."

With a happy look, Merope snatched a piece of meat, sat back and ate. Silverware be damned, she was hungry. And she hadn't eaten 'properly' in ages, so why start?

MERLIN, was it good...picking a few more pieces, she sat, contented, and eating with her son. She was starting to feel somewhat more comfortable there, in the odd flying matchine...

The Major inspected the bottle of wine in the light and, when he was satisfied, put it down and reached for the remote.

Another map of the city flickered into being on the screens, this one unmarked by dots and names and lines of force.

"The City. Doc termed it an "interdimensional nexus". You might think of it as... a soft place between the worlds of the universe, where they all bleed into each other. Anything that might exist, ever, in potential, might exist out there, while any of it might one day find itself drawn into here."

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Log; Ongoing

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