What Music They Make // White Wyvern // Monday, 17 July 1978

[Elara Faolan]

"izzit your time of the month or somefing?"

The beer she'd been pouring for the disgruntled arsehole who had suggested Elara would attract more patrons to the pub if she smiled once in a while was slammed onto the bar top in front of him. It took everything within her not to leap over the counter and snap his pathetic neck. He had no idea how astutely accurate his pithy remark was; they were mere days away from the full moon and Elara's temper resided much closer to the surface than it might normally have. "2 sickles," she snarled through clenched teeth, and she stood statue-like, scowling until he threw a pair of silver coins on the bar between them. Snatching the money without another word, Elara turned and tossed the coins into the till before stalking off to the other end of the bar to seethe silently.

It had already been a long day and she was looking forward to being off in less than an hour, but it seemed as though time was standing still. Were these the same dozen customers who'd been sitting in the dark pub since she clocked on? Elara wiped at the bar top with a dirty rag, half wanting to move back to the prick who had been giving her what he probably considered "professional advice" and rip his throat out, but instead listening to the small, logical voice in her head that reminded her she didn't want to get sacked for killing a patron. There were only so many chances one got as a werewolf, and they were harder to come by than any other witch or wizard who knew how to slap a drink together and might be in need of work.

Outfit: tired of your shite
Tagged: open

[Alecto Carrow]

Alecto would have eaten an entire hippogriff, beak to tail, without complaint of the bother of feathers and claws.

She'd just dropped her third quarry at Headquarters - squirming and wriggling in her restraints, frustratingly awake and screeching about "truth" and some such as her identity was confirmed - and was in desperate need of a bath, a comb, a change of clothes, a rest. A mirror and a few glamour charms to conceal the marks from her feisty mark. (The soon-to-be disgraced "journalist" knew more hexes than Alecto was sure The Prophet would deem appropriate for an employee, as she'd discovered in their final match.) Far more pressing, though, was the need of a hot meal and a cold brew - and she couldn't count on Amycus having anything edible at home, and she knew that in this state she'd do something regrettable if she ran into Rodolphus at the manor on her way to Bella. The Wyvern was hardly well known for its fare, but after days of tracking through the countryside (well-equipped to complete her new duties, ill-prepared for taking care of herself, despite her shouted protests to the contrary), Alecto was sure she could put down anything they had on hand tonight. And then, then, she could tackle the rest, and indulge in celebration of her latest victory.

You're going to collapse.

    I know what I can handle.

Face in your plate, knock over your glass -

    I. Am. Fine. I did well, they said. Getting faster.

The young Snatcher, weary and wide-awake, felt energy thrum through her aching muscles as she entered the friendly place at last. Dank and dark and neglected as it was, the Wyvern was far friendlier to the likes of her than the shimmering Leaky, and she was glad for it. Gladder still to find a familiar face behind the bar. Alecto made a beeline towards Elara, sitting heavily on a high stool and letting her pack drop to the dirty floor under her jittery legs. It wasn't like it could get much dingier than it was - that in mind, she tucked back what wayward hair had escaped from her ponytail and summoned a smile of greeting. It wasn't hard when before her was one of her idols - Durmstrang educated and raised among werewolves, a fierce power herself and ally to their cause, deadly beautiful to boot. And if Alecto could one day swallow her pride...few would be better teachers on survival.

"Elara," she purred fondly, as if showing up fresh from a mission was the most usual way for her to start the week, and lowered her voice, "it's been too long. Have I caught you up on the new recruits? Your littlest sister could rip them to shreds at breakfast - we're to move mountains." As if there weren't claws already at her insides, Alecto peered towards the tap with fingers twitching at the counter, continuing at volume, "Whatever's good off the tap, and whatever the kitchen has that's palatable, if you could. Less fussy about the second."

[Elara Faolan]

The prick at the other end of the bar was now in conversation with the bloke next to him, and Elara was free to plot his gruesome death in her head, mindlessly wiping at the bar top without any effective results. This time of month was always a challenge. She felt exhausted and on edge at all times, her mind anxious for the impending change and her body wary with the knowledge of what was to come. At times, she wondered if it wouldn't just be easier to remain in her wolf form, allow the creature to take her over completely and give up trying to survive in a world that cared so little for her kind. She could see, too, the benefits of those who chose to live solely with their pack, forgoing the conveniences of the wizarding civilization that despised them, but even that was no guarantee one would be free from the shackles imposed by the scared littles wizards and witches who claimed dominion over everything non-muggle. There were Ministry registrations and laws put in place to keep people like Elara from rising higher on the economic ladder. The Ministry was fine to keep werewolves shoved into the corner of society, barely throwing a scrap of freedom their way all the while acting as though lycans out to be thankful for their perceived gifts. There were some, however, who offered werewolves a chance at a life never before afforded to them and, as if on cue, Elara raised her gaze to see a familiar figure traipsing through the front door.

Alecto looked spent. Dirty, tired, and carrying a pack that suggested she had been busy for some time, Elara watched the Death Eater fall heavily onto a stool in front of her. The blonde's attempt at straightening herself up did her little favors. She listened with a slight interest as Alecto moaned about the new recruits, the tug of a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth in an amused expression.

"Move them?" she queried, answering the woman's order by grabbing a fresh mug and filling it with the finest ale they had on tap (which wasn't saying much), "you look as though you've been living in them." There was the slightest hint of a chuckle in her voice as she tilted the mug to let the excess foam run off as she filled it to the brim. Stopping the tap, she set the cold ale in front of the blonde. Reaching into the pocket of her apron, Elara pulled a notebook and pencil that had been sharpened nearly to the nub. She scrawled a quick order on the ticket before ripping it from the notebook and raising it above her head where it folded itself into a bird-shaped sculpture and flew itself through a little window to the kitchen. "You look like shite, love." She meant that in the most respectful fashion imaginable, given the woman's appearance. "Been having a bit of fun, have we?" she asked, eyes twinkling with interest.


Outfit: tired of your shite
Tagged: Alecto Carrow

[Alecto Carrow]

"You're not wrong - thank you, you take such care of me," she drew out in fun, eyes hungry as her hollow stomach as they tracked the ale, legs jittering under the counter. Elara squeezed as much of the dark drink as possible into the glass, forever earning her a place of prominence in Alecto's esteem - as if she hadn't secured one already - and the blonde reached for the glass too eagerly as it was set before her. She drank deeply, quickly, feeling the cold more than the taste, which really was for the best, and watched the flight of the clever paper bird with nothing short of glee. A crash was on its way, speeding towards her with abandon, nearer to her than the horizon, her eyes were heavy and her thoughts muddied. Something of a real meal was coming and she had done her duty and she twitched away from the men at the other end of the bar as they were screeching, weren't they, weren't they so loud, or was it her -

She blinked and straightened up abruptly, drawn into focus at Elara's accurate remark. She was far more entertained than bothered - under the current layer of grime, she was beautiful as she'd ever been, and if challenged she was certain she could turn heads even on a day like today. Alecto wiped the ale from her mouth on her sleeve before leaning in, sending the woman the best bedroom eyes she could wrangle in her state. "I've had a lonely few days, Lara. If you keep shamelessly flirting with me like this," she taunted in jest, knowing it was as unlikely for the werewolf to leave Fenrir as it was for her to leave Bella, even if she was looking her most irresistible self, "I won't be able to control myself." 

But as Elara went on, dark eyes bright with interest, the blonde couldn't help herself from truly preening at the attention. "Guilty. You're disappearing soon, aren't you? Have a drink with me before you go, I'll tell you all about it, and you can tell me of all your upcoming mischief," she implored, draining a good portion of hers. "See, I was always good at hide and seek." A sharp laugh left her, and she backtracked. The pub was friendly, but admitting outright what she'd been up to? Alecto knew their work was...serious. Severe. Deciding-the-fate-of-the-world important. But as Alecto played her part of the Dark Lord's design, she often thought of her missions as games to beat. That made the most sense, that held her attention, the tasks were real and yet they weren't, her brother's youthful introduction to the arts was likely to blame for her mindset - but it worked, it kept her engaged, and she got to win. Few things were better for her than that.  "Better at seeking than hiding, that is - bored to death by hiding, never could keep quiet long enough. Now, I get to find hiders who don't know I'm playing too. This game has higher stakes, and that makes it even better when you win." Her grin grew, satisfied and smug and serpentine, and she wished her teeth were sharp, sharp as Elara's would be all too soon, if she'd seen the moon properly these last nights. "And I really love to win."

[Elara Faolan]

Another tug of a smile fought its way forward and Elara rolled her eyes at the blonde. It was always the attractive ones who were so presumptuous. It was even more entertaining when they were right. "My bed's always open," she teased in retort, though when the blokes at the other end of the bar started wolf whistling she shot them daggers from her eyes and chucked an empty rocks glass at them. It whizzed over the loudest man's head, mere centimeters from his disheveled hair, and splintered into a million pieces on the leg of a chair behind the man. A calculated launch that did it's part in shutting the men up, at least for the moment.

Unaffected by the wolf's display, Alecto extended an invitation of conversation to Elara, and the dark haired beauty obliged. She pulled a bottled beer from the cooler under the counter and cracked the cap off on the edge of the bar. She sipped as she listened to Alecto detail her rugged adventure as a game. To be so privileged to view it as such... What Elara wouldn't do to have even an ounce of the fortune this witch possessed, but yes, as the woman had so keenly pointed out, Elara would be disappearing soon. The moon's pull on her was already having an effect, as demonstrated by her lowered tolerance for men and their shite. "You're to share the prize, in the end, you know. Does that put a damper on the fun or is it just the winning that you're really after?"

Outfit: tired of your shite
Tagged: Alecto Carrow

[Alecto Carrow]

"Don't tempt me." Alecto cracked a pleased grin as Lara's mouth twitched into an almost smile, and her grin spread at her words and the commotion Elara ended with the crash of a glass. She let out a long exhale as the men quieted, brushing her wayward hair back again, and drew her attention back to Elara as the other woman joined her. She enjoyed the attention of a beautiful woman, and the talk would distract her from the wait for her meal. And Elara's question did make her think - was she propelled to act for the satisfaction she gained from her wins, or for the sake of the bigger picture of their organization? Motives were entwined, certainly. Her duties gave her a purpose, which if left to her own devices, she would struggle to find. Her devotion granted her continued favor with Amycus and Bella, as she had grown into the fighter they had taken pride in molding. She believed in the worthiness of their struggle, and that their kind would prevail. They were fighting to bring the world right-side-up again - and through the fight, she could showcase what talents she possessed, which would be useless without this platform...

"It's a big prize, love, you'll see," she laughed, confident that the werewolf would have a place in the world to come. "For once, I think I'll manage to share. Besides, if I had it all to myself, that would mean..." There were few things left that would make the Death Eater hold her tongue. But if there was but a whisper to the Dark Lord, anything about Alecto insinuating that she should be in charge, that she was stirring up some kind of coup, that the glory should be hers and hers alone - well, people had disappeared for far less. A life at the tippy top wasn't one she wanted either - it was appealing in theory, but in the rare moments she was honest with herself, she knew she wasn't as good on her own as she was when working with those she trusted. That number would dwindle even more if she rose up, with a bigger target on her back. And the ability their Lord had to inspire others to follow him, the visionary he was...she could hardly plan her life a few days ahead. As much as Alecto would never admit it, she was better suited to her current role. Perhaps she could move a few more runs up the ladder, as long as Amycus and Bella continued to have her back...But for now, she was still learning. Alecto polished off her glass, and shot Elara a wry grin. "For starters, I wouldn't get to kill time here, and that would be tragic."

[Amycus Carrow]

“Tragic? Hardly the word I would use,” he said as he leaned on the bar, grinning at his sister. When he’d heard that she’d been successful in her recent mission, that she’d been faster at the job than they’d expected. It was typical of them, to have low expectations. He had seen it all before when he’d joined the group after graduation. Bellatrix had been subjected to the same testing and the same doubts. Not by their Dark Lord, he was far too smart to doubt the lethalness of a woman, but by some of the older Death Eaters. He’d also seen her curse the ever-living sh*t out of some of them, and that had secured her place quickly. The men were quieter about their doubts now, but because they expected him to share their same mindset it did mean he got to hear about Alecto’s successes - and failures. Not that she’d had many of those. He and Bella had seen to it that she was on the right path, and while he wouldn’t admit out loud he felt thankful to Bella for her guidance, he did think she had been a good mentor. Turning his eyes to the woman behind the bar, he flashed her a smile. “It’s only tragic when our dear Elara isn’t working.”

He took a second to survey his sister once more, taking in her disheveled appearance. Some hunts were harder than others, but he’d taught her everything he knew. He did wish they could go together on these missions, not because he doubted her, but because the thrill would be that much more. They had always been a team, at least he thought so, and he was sure he could convince someone to let them work together. “Thought I might find you here. Heard you did excellent out there,” he said with pride before he took the time to sit down next to his sister. He’d never bothered to learn to cook much, although he did try on occasion when he was hungry. And if he knew Alecto, he knew she had to be starving. Admittedly, his first thought had been to go to the Lestrange Manor, but Bella had been at Headquarters when he had stopped by. Turning his gaze back to Elara, he gave a nod to the bottle in her hand, “I’ll have the same as you. You working late tonight?”

[Elara Faolan]

Elara smirked and gave a small, knowing laugh as Alecto's sentence trailed off into the ether. Were anyone overheard speaking of possessing such power, even after this war was won, it would surely mean a swift and painful death. Lord Voldemort didn't seem the sort to share the glory, despite what his most faithful followers seemed to believe. Were they so persuaded by his pretty tongue, or had they really fooled themselves into believing he wanted what was best for all of them and not just himself? Elara had aligned herself with the wizard, first out of devotion to Fenrir but of course she believed as he did that Voldemort was the werewolves best chance at a better life. There was still a fight that would be to come once this war was over, but they would be in a better position to take back their lives with Voldemort's men in power. But in place of hinting of any of this to the pretty witch flirting her way through their conversation, she sipped her drink and clocked the wizard strolling up behind Alecto without shifting her gaze.

The tragedy was how none of this lot seemed to bat an eye at the idea that Elara would always be there to cater their every whim. As if her condition meant she was worth nothing more than servitude for those of "pure" wizarding breed. Lara was well aware of what they thought of her, she had been called much worse than just a "halfbreed" in her years, but she bit her tongue, as challenging as it was, in front of Alecto's older brother.

Instead, she turned as a small bell rang from the kitchen and Elara pulled a plate off the small kitchen window. Setting it down in front of the blonde while her brother cooed over her achievements, Elara next placed a set of water-stained utensils beside the plate of roasted lamb and potatoes. Amycus addressed her and she looked up, raised her brows in understanding and reached under the counter to pull a second beer bottle from the cooler, cracking the cap off before setting it on the bar before him. "Later than I'd like," she replied, before adding "but I've only about a half hour left. Then you'll have to pester someone else if you're planning on getting shite faced tonight."

Outfit: tired of your shite
Tagged: Alecto Carrow Amycus Carrow

[Alecto Carrow]

Alecto turned in surprise at the sound of her brother’s voice, a new thrill of excitement rippling through her belly. It was one thing to boast share with Elara, another entirely to dig through a mission point-by-point with Amycus - just as it was one thing to take pride in herself, and another to know she’d inspired such a feeling in a mentor. She sat taller under his critiquing gaze, straight-backed and shoulders squared not so much in spite of, but due to her appearance, even as she felt the weight of those short moments pressing down onto her. The evaluation from her "superiors" had gone well, but would he know? Had Amycus chanced upon her here, or had he sought her out?

Brother, confidant, advisor, ally, flatmate, friend - it was strange to be without him for any number of days, however often their work took them away from each other. She hated to need, but she needed him, and perhaps the only thing that made that knowledge bearable was that Amycus needed her too.

Who else was going to keep that hair of his even prettier than her own was today? And take the time to braid it properly?

His opinion of her was too important, and while she knew she should have nothing to worry about today, Alecto was on the wrong side of desperate to hear him confirm it. As he did, her grin stretched to match his, and the excellent Snatcher jested, "It’s about time they start singing my praises loud enough for you to hear." Elara returned with her plate, and Alecto took up the utensils as soon as the bartender set them down. She tore into the roast with gusto, childhood lessons of ladylike etiquette be damned, and looked up in amusement as the two went on around her. Ale in her veins and hearty food filling her belly, her brother come to see her and a claim to victory - the night was early, and theirs, and a second wind was rushing towards her.

"Well we've done it now, Amycus - we're pests." She tsked and a hazy laugh bubbled out of her at the lamentation, and she pushed her empty glass towards Elara with a smirk. "We'd better get to it then, if you're leaving." She returned to her meal, and shot a grin at her closest companion. "I should be the one congratulating you. You survived without me - just barely, by the looks of it," she declared, sending his braid swinging with a flick of her finger, "but well done, brother, you've made me proud."

[Amycus Carrow]

His sister didn’t need him to tell her that she had done well, he was positive she already knew that. After all, she always did well. He couldn’t think of a single task they had given her that she hadn’t done her best work on. So his arrival at the Wyvern wasn’t just to compliment her, although he was sure she appreciated it based on how she sat taller at his arrival. The truth was he had missed her, but he wasn’t about to admit that out loud. The flat was empty without her, and her falcons weren’t the best companions. They didn’t listen to him, and that was fine for the most part. They could get annoying though when Alecto was gone for long periods. It was his fault for never getting into the hobby as she had, but he’d had his own. It wasn’t unusual for her to come home and find he’d purchased yet another blade to add to his collection. Their father had never understood his son’s fascination with them, given that they had magic at their disposal. Amycus felt that death was more personal when done with a knife rather than a wand.

He laughed at his sister’s words as he settled in, nudging her shoulder with his own. “You know I’ve never doubted your skills,” he smirked, “But I’m happy to hear them sing your praises nonetheless.” It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten positive feedback about his sister and the work she did, but much of it had come from Bellatrix. And he knew well that she was just as biased about Alecto as he was, possibly even more so. Taking the drink set in front of him, he raised an eyebrow at Elara, feeling that she wasn’t giving him enough credit for how annoying he could be if he wanted to. Still, he laughed at his sister’s statement and tried to dodge as she flicked his braid. Which he did need her to fix because it only held up so long when he got up to any sort of fun. “Oi, I’ve scraped by without you before. You have so little faith in me dear sister,” he teased her. He directed his gaze back to their ever-so-lovely bartender, directing his next words to her. “Are you up for getting shite faced with some pests?”

[Elara Faolan]

The banter between the siblings was not an unfamiliar sight. Alecto and Amycus were closer than most siblings Elara had met, and certainly closer than she was to any of her own. Elara was the eldest and thus bore responsibility for looking after her siblings whilst they were growing up. Her brothers were, for the most part, self sufficient but they also had the luxury of being men in a pack of wolves all vying to be considered an alpha in their own right. Her sisters needed more attention, instruction on how to survive in the world not only as a werewolf but also as a woman. The youngest was only 14 but she had headed off to Durmstrang more knowledgeable than most witches her age, and Elara kept no secrets about how proud she was when the reports made it home that the littlest wolf had been given detention for rowing with a boy. No doubt he deserved it, she had announced without having heard any of the details of what led to the fight in the first place. Her father only laughed.

Taking another swig from her bottle as the Carrows entertained themselves, Lara was pulled back into the fray by Alecto's demand for another ale. She nodded singularly, setting her own drink aside as she took the blonde's mug and refilled it at the tap. "On this swill?" she replied with a laugh to Amycus' question. She wasn't dismissive of the idea, having spent her fair share of nights attempting to drink the elder Carrow under the table, but the idea of spending anymore time in this pub today than was required to keep her position was not tempting. "You lot are going to have to start buying me the top shelf stuff if you're wanting me to stick 'round here a single minute after my shift's up." She pulled her beer closer before clinking it on the rim of Amycus'. "But if you were in need a bodyguard elsewhere tonight, I wouldn't be opposed."

[Alecto Carrow]

Between Amycus and Bellatrix, she had been properly educated in most of the things she'd ever been keen to learn. One or the other always around the corner to test, assess, prepare her - the only ones she kept close after they'd bested her, after her outrage and embarrassment and hurt was redirected into one more attempt, and another. It had taken years, and more dedicated effort than the flighty girl knew she could possess, to earn her Mark. And now, to earn this new rank. The same as her brother's. His commendation excited her, knowing that he had heard from the others and was pleased, it thrilled her all the more to think of how Bella would respond. His laugh was music to her ears, and she returned it easily. "Have more faith in you than the birds, if it helps," Alecto quipped. Circe and Anthus deserved a full day out to fly, and they would receive one tomorrow. Now that Rabby Rab, in the ultimate show of shortsightedness, had vacated the manor, she was enjoying much extended leisurely time there with Bella and Rodolphus - and the hunting grounds of his falcons would be utterly wasted without her assistance. With any luck, the birds hadn't grown too restless in her absence...

The food was hot and decent, or she was starved, and she couldn't be bothered into caring about the dirt under her nails as she ate. It was giving the nourishment she needed, and the ale kept her mind from steadying too much - a welcome combination. She clocked Elara with an eye at Amycus's invitation, amused by her own uncertainty about whether or not there was something more to the invitation than his usual competition. "By all means, put it on his tab," Alecto encouraged, waving her fork - a speared potato just barely hanging on for dear life - to the Wyvern's thin "top shelf" selection after her own glass was refilled. "All of this," she added with gleeful, unearned confidence, raising her glass with precarious speed to clink into his. "It's a celebration, Amycus!"

[Amycus Carrow]

He would never admit to anyone, even Alecto, that he missed her when she wasn’t around. He could take care of himself fine, he had done so the years she was still at Hogwarts and he was working for the Dark Lord. But it was nice having her around, having someone who knew him so well he didn’t need to put on a front. And now that she had worked her way up to his rank, as he knew she would, Amycus was positive that they would be sent on missions together before long. They were unstoppable individually, and even more deadly when they were together. And given the longer stretches Alecto spent at the Lestrange manor (and no he was not jealous), he had to hope that they’d get to work together so that they could spend time together. “More faith in me than the birds? I’m flattered,” he joked, “Speaking of your birds, they’ve grown quite restless in your absence. Wouldn’t even look at me today when I said hello to them.”

Amycus let out a laugh, pleased by Elara’s answer to his question. She had a point, the Wyvern wasn’t known for its fantastic alcohol selection. And it was tempting to think of the trouble the three of them could get into if they went someplace else. He was itching to give his new knife a test, and he was almost positive Elara wouldn’t care if a muggle or two-faced death tonight. Alecto was usually down to join him for a hunt, but it seemed her priorities were elsewhere tonight as she deemed it a celebration. “Oh by all means my dear sister, spend my money for me,” he teased. They both knew his money mostly came from their father, so spending it wasn’t something he worried about. “Top shelf drinks for us all then, and then we can talk about finding someplace more exciting to go. What do you say to that, Elara?”

[Elara Faolan]

Time ticked by so pathetically slow that Elara could hear the hand moving on the clock in the back room. The rude customers at the other end of the bar were laughing obnoxiously at a dirty joke they’d told amongst themselves, and the sizzle of meat on the stove in the kitchen – venison by the smell of it, signaled that the cook was making himself something off menu. Alecto’s knife and fork clattered against the plate in front of her as she sawed away at her lamb and jabbed at potatoes with such force one would have assumed they were raw. Alecto smelled of dirt and sweat, which made sense given her recent camping trip but what was Amycus’ excuse for the odor he produced? Was she being too sensitive, the full moon only a few days away and her tolerance for anything and everything seemingly diminished, or had the loathsomely entertaining brute forgone bathing this week? Lara gritted her teeth as the siblings spoke, Alecto’s lips smacking loudly as she spoke while eating. They were lucky Elara considered them something akin to friends, or else she would have been plotting an atrocious demise for each of them at that very moment. She sated her temper with the last of her beer, and Amycus smartly ordered another round for all of them of the finest alcohols offered in this shitehole establishment. “I’d say you’re getting smarter by the minute.” Asking her to stick around and drink with them in her place of work was beyond ignorant, and such like a man to suggest, but at least he paid attention and corrected his mistake.

Pulling her wand from her pocket, she gave it a wave and dusty bottle from the highest shelf levitated down onto the counter. Wiping the filth away with a rag before she pulled the stopper, Lara poured three glasses of dark liquor and dispersed them amongst the Carrows and herself. “To your deep pockets tonight,” she said with a tempting grin, clinking her glass to each of theirs before the arsehole at the end of the bar caught her eye with a drunken wave of his hand. Elara growled her annoyance into her glass and then took a drink, before shooting a wicked glance in Amycus’ direction. Whatever the beast was considering for an adventure out this evening, she would most definitely be down. Only a few minutes more were required of her in this hell hole and then she would be free of the burden that was pretending to give a shite about the arseholes who paid little money to drink here. Elara left the siblings to tend to the other patrons, the clock ticking tauntingly in her ear.

[Alecto Carrow]

"Don't tell them I told you, but they don't favor you all that much," Alecto shot back in tease, even if it was more of a truth than anything else, despite her mocking tone. She had her birds, her brother had his hobbies, and she couldn't blame her darlings for being on edge around someone who spent so much time with his knives. They ruled their domain, her falcons, but knew their place when contained. "Sweet of you to say your hellos, you golden-hearted boy. I'll fly them in the morning, they'll be fine." She brushed off the little concern she had for them, beautiful, hardy things that they were, and was gratified by Amycus's response. "His" money would be better spent here with such fine company, than on the fleeting pleasures of one of the pixies looking for business down the winding Alley, or some cockamamie trinket Burke tried to sell as the real thing, and Alecto beamed a shining smile as he acquiesced to her request, and included Elara in their plans.

It perked the barmaid up, certainly - the plans, or the liquor - and Alecto eagerly took up the offered glass to exchange in a cheers. "Counting the minutes, Lara," she called as Elara was called away, grinning to her brother. "I was good, Amy," she confided in what she felt was a whisper, but could very well have been her full voice, as she reached over to hold onto his arm. Faster than her restorative meal, the drinks were going to her head, and it was marvelous. "She was too," Alecto acknowledged fairly, "kept me on the run for a while there - but I was better. Got her before she did anything up here," she continued, waving her fingers about her own temples, "to make it harder for them at His." She drank and polished off what was left on her plate, pushing it away from her with a contented sigh. It was a lucky thing, really, that they were here for this time. They were built for this work and this fight, she and Amycus and the Lestranges, and if they had been born too early or too late? If they had missed it, even by a hair? It was dreadful to even think of it, a life without the purpose the Dark Lord had given them with such grace, and while she knew that the war would eventually end, and that they would be left to live in the world He built - they would still be needed. Surely, they would still be needed. To stomp out whatever ill-advised uprisings sprung up, to keep the remnants of the Aurors and the like down, to track and to hunt and to sow chaos and fear - they would be needed, always.

"Don't leave without me," she said, slipping from her stool and gathering her pack, to continue in a giggling warning that she didn't mean. But a few days apart from her brother left her, like always, feeling like the second-year he'd left behind on his latest Hogsmeade trip. "I'll take the birds, we'll go to Bella's," she called on her way to the loo, to make herself somewhat more presentable. Whatever fun he had in mind, Alecto doubted that she currently looked the part - whether it was blending into a muggle crowd until it was too late for the helpless sheep, or properly standing out in Pandemonium, the least she could do was splash water on her face, slick her hair back into a bun, and see if she had a clean shirt left.