Outfit

It had been a long time since that familiar burn had radiated through the arm of Daniel Burke. It had been a long time since he had been disturbed from his life and called as a servant to others. His former master had been killed and though the time of meetings had long since passed it was not welcomed as it had been then. Daniel had been enjoying a nice evening with his now fiancé, a small meal at the home that he shared with his sister, when he felt like he had the sudden need to cut off his arm. He knew what it meant, and made his excuses to his lovely one, before running to his room to get some robes, his cloak and (just in case) his mask. He looked good, and he smelled better, but he wasn't sure that this was a good thing.

Under Wentzell it had all been about his goals, the things that he wanted them to do. Of course The Dark Lord had done the same, but they constantly had a goal, not something that went stagnant when the nearest piece of ass went running by. Daniel knew that more offence had been caused by the choice of Ares' two halfblood brides, but he also knew that it could have been much worse, had he chosen a pureblood wife and she died by the hands of muggles. The Lestrange's taking over had been an interesting turn of events, and he was glad that Pansy had gotten a spot in the new Administration. Though he did still have his doubts it was more because he was weary of what their Madam Minister would have planned for everyone.

The Mudblood department was doing their jobs, but it did feel like that were still going nowhere. Daniel wanted action. Yes, he was not a people person by any means, and he would chew his own leg off like a dog before he had to spend more time than he wanted to with other people, but this could not be avoided. Walking into the church he nodded to all those there and took his place quietly, looking around with a quiet curiosity; wondering what would be happening.

COLD WIND BLOWS

OUTFIT

Draco had almost been in Morocco tonight. It had been the plan, anyway. He’d been there most of the day, as always. Sometimes it was easiest to just stay the night there. There was an area for that—and nearby towns for anyone that wanted a hotel or something like it. Not many curse-breakers felt the need to go to an actual hotel, though… after digging through tombs all day, most of them were able to sleep in a tent and be all right with that. It wasn’t like they were ridiculous Muggle tents that couldn’t even fit in a decent sized bed. They were good tents—he didn’t mind his at all, actually. It could fit what he needed, and then he didn’t have to bother with going all the way to a hotel, or heading back home. That was just easier most of the time, but tonight, he’d decided to head home for the night. He didn’t know why. There had been no real reason except wanting a good shower and his own bed for a night. He had a few days he could take off, so he thought that he might just take off the rest of the weekend, but that was still up in the air. Usually, he nearly got a little bored staying in England all the time. It was far more interesting to be on site than back here.

But tonight, that was exactly what he had decided to do. His bed, and his shower—he thought he might stop by his parents’ house, or the Bent Elbow, to see if he could track his mother down. He thought convincing her that dinner was a good idea would be his first goal… well, second. She wasn’t going to go anywhere, or make anything, if he was covered in sand. So he had left Morocco, and he had headed back to his apartment. It was a little late for dinner; but he’d gotten into a bit of a habit, and had started eating meals later in the day when he was on site. Usually, they just tried to get as much work done as they could before they lost the sun, and then they kept going a while longer, until it wasn’t safe to. So by the time he had actually gotten back to England, it was a little late. Not too bad; he still thought that his mother would obviously be up, and that it wouldn’t be too late to get dinner after he showered. If he was quick, anyhow. But once he had finished getting dressed, and was about to head to The Bent Elbow—his best bet of where his mother was, there was a burning on his arm. It took only once glance down to see that his mark had darkened, and he knew that a change of destination was in order.

He didn’t know just what to expect. His aunt had taken over the Minister, and if anyone had told him that was going to happen while he was growing up, he wouldn’t have believed it. That was when he’d only thought of her as the blood traitor, and he only knew of Bellatrix as a concept, since she’d been in prison. But times changed, and the past couple of years had proven that. This year especially. Now Andromeda was Andromeda Lestrange, and not a Death Eater. He thought that her and his mother were in contact, but he hadn’t actually witnessed it, so he wasn’t sure. But the fact of the matter was that someone new would be heading up this group now… he knew they’d be walking into whoever that was. There was no way that it was Wentzell still, that was illogical. If you were going to take someone out of power, you had to take them all the way out. Doing it halfway still left them with enough power to try to take the rest back. But he hadn’t expected to see his uncle when he walked into the church. He should have, in retrospect, but he hadn’t actually thought much of who would take over for Wentzell. It wasn’t his focus, when his logic was still keeping himself in the best position for any change. “Uncle.” He said, with a nod, before heading further into the church. He saw his father—which was unsurprising, and headed to sit down next to him. “Father.” It wasn’t at all shocking to him that the man had beat him here.

And sends a chill
Outfit

It was a feeling William had never thought he would feel again, that burn that shot all the way through his arm, radiated into his soul. While it certainly hadn’t exactly been welcome, it wasn’t unwelcome. It meant he was able to do something, continue his legacy. This was exactly what he had wanted, to be a part of the movement. This was the moment he had dreamed of. This, was his everything. It had been his everything for as long as he could remember, everything he had worked toward. The future, this future, had always been the goal. Now, they had to keep it, focus on maintaining the future they had created. A quick change had been in order before he had left, heading for the meeting site.

The man hadn’t known what to expect. It had been so long since he had been to a meeting, involved with any of this. They were servants, just as before, the foot soldiers that would make the world they wanted. Will was slightly above that, his age giving him a slight advantage, but not much. He would still do what he was told, take on whatever roll they needed him to play. The Lestrange takeover, Andromeda as Minister and Rodolphus in charge of them. He couldn’t complain. His position at the ministry was still intact, keeping him inundated with paperwork. That was life. This, this was pleasure. He wanted the activity. He wanted the action.

Entering the church he glanced around, noting the many familiar faces already gathered there. He hadn’t been shocked he was running a bit late. The need to change clothing has certainly slowed him down, but the man didn’t move as quickly as he once had. He wasn’t old, but Will certainly wasn’t young. What he noted more so were the faces not there. @creed and @kurt were the two most noticeable, the two members he still considered to be closest to. He wouldn’t claim to be friends with any of them, but he was friendliest with them. Taking a seat toward the back he would save spots, should the men want them. While he wasn’t optimistic about what this meeting had in store, he would give Rodolphus a chance. After all, anyone was better than Wentzell, who only wanted his own needs met. This was a chance for better for all of them, a chance to return to the action of old.

And all you see is
black and cruel

clothes - Roma Avery Warrington

Things had been in a tender position for a long time when it came to the take over and the Death Eater movement. The group of pureblood men that had led them out of the work camps and to take control of everything had done a sufficient job at first, and then they'd excelled at covering their eyes and turning the other cheek. Sentimentality was what had led most of them to accept Wentzell's actions, and a lack of communication with those who truly mattered. They should never have allowed him to become Minister in the first place. That little group of men had forgotten the fact that Wentzell and his family did not belong here. Oh, sure, with other purebloods, in society, sure. But never in power over them, never in the position he ended up in. He'd been capable enough at first, and she'd thought that maybe it would be fine. Maybe she should stop worrying so much about Sacred Twenty Eight and focus on the fact that he was a pureblood Death Eater that guided them through that hardship. Her hope was obviously misplaced, it showed early on, and the dissent amongst the ranks had been palpable. No one made a move, it was something of a surprise that they'd been led by Andromeda Lestrange of all people, but eventually power had changed hands. She was much more content with this government, she had to admit. No Old Boys Club here.

She cast her eyes about the room. In a corner stood her father, cloaked and pale, and she made sure not to look at him from now on. He shouldn't have come, she told him to stay home always from now on. Stubborn, stubborn like Eleanor herself. The man was dying, body weak after so long in Azkaban and malnourished even now because he took such bad care of himself. She'd take him to live with her, but an open display of weakness was never something he would allow or forgive. Weakness, huh? Even in this state he was more than a match for half the people in this room. She felt contempt at best for most of them. Sure, they were related some way or another, but as far as things went, most still had to prove their worth. Most had done nothing more than sit there and let others do the dirty work, sit there and let power change hands and sheepishly go along with it instead of making a decision. No, that was something she could never abide. She could understand lying after a fact, to get out of punishment. Cowardly but when one had a family it was something most attempted. Yet doing nothing at all, all the time? Letting the chips fall where they may and then choosing a side? Sound strategy for survival, if survival were possible without a spine.

The summoning had not exactly come as a surprise. Wentzell couldn't lead them, Andromeda couldn't lead them. The first candidate for that position had, in her mind, been a correct estimation. Lord Lestrange was someone she'd much looked up to, even as a young child. Her parents had taught her a lot about dark magic so a spell inventor of his calibre had been worthy of admiration. After that she'd joined the cause for her parents, and it had been gratifying to see that he had been formidable on that end as well. His wife had been enchanting too, of course, though not exactly her type. Rodolphus Lestrange remained, however, someone who she did not doubt would lead them efficiently and correctly along the path they needed to take in order to keep their control over magical Britain. On the other hand -she glanced back at her father briefly- it would be very noticeable if Lord Lestrange faltered in any way. Word was that he was more unstable than usual after Azkaban. She hadn't closely interacted with him for any long period of time since the take over, so her opinion would be null on the matter. Nevertheless, she had high hopes for this new beginning. Let us hope that is not misplaced.

With a small sigh, she reached over and stroked her fingers idly over Roma's hand, out of sight, waiting for it to begin.

Cold Wind Blows

Outfit

To be honest, Charlotte didn’t know what this meeting was going to entail, but she didn’t care one way or the other. She was sure it would have something to do with Andromeda taking over, how the weeks had gone, what was next, and housekeeping things of the like. Most of it was politics to Charlotte, which she had never particularly enjoyed anyway, but she hoped Rodolphus would make good use of her time. They had the power, and they were maintaining power, and that was what mattered most to Charlotte. The Ministry and the Death Eaters were officially separate, like church and state, but it was all an illusion for the public eye. They still had the influence, and it would make the troubled souls of the public feel some ease. Not that they deserved to, she thought, but she knew practically it would make things go better.

CHarlotte’s heels clicked against the stone as she walked towards the abandoned church. It was clearly abandoned and had been for a long time, and it set an eerie mood over the place. It didn’t bother Charlotte remotely, because this is what they were used to. This is what they had dealt with for years when they were being opposed by those lesser than them. The distant secrecy wasn’t necessary...but she had a feeling this was a way of reminding them of their roots, where they had come from, and give them the better perspective of the power they once again had. There wasn’t anything else for miles...and the place was nearly silent. The only thing she could hear was the wind blowing in her ears as she approached the church. The clouded skies above made it seem more remote, like the clouds were covering them for miles.

Charlotte entered the church and saw a few of her comrades already here. Pews lined the sanctuary, and there was an altar towards the front. The building was old, and looked just as abandoned on the inside. Rodolphus seemed to light candles, which she figured he he putted concealment charms around since she couldn’t see their light through the broken windows of the church. She scanned around. She set her eyes on @carlisle and Sloane Cressida Rosier, both of whom she was particularly displeased to see but she figured she would ignore the bastard and his bitch. She saw her brother-in-law @daniel and nodded at him. She wasn’t particularly interested enough to sit front and center, so she headed towards the pews in the middle of the room. Among the people sitting further back, she saw @jasper and figured she and Harrison would enjoy his company when he arrived. She took a seat beside him. “I hope this is worth our time,” she said off-handedly as she set her bag down.

This is a call to arms
gather soldiers
Time to go to war

outfit

It had bee a lucky stroke, really, that had had Fernando working late at home instead of...indulging. The new Minister and he were on shaky grounds, so to speak, because of divergence in beliefs. Thankfully, they were found to be not insurmountable and they had agreed in some sort of waiting period, so to speak. Whilst it did put a damper in most of the things he had wanted to do, in the end it also gave him time to think about how little he was actually doing to help. Darling Mother was so ever disappointed whenever she asked and he had little to tell her. Fernando himself was getting impatient with the lack of results and, well, when he got something into his head it was hard to get it out. So he had regretfully sent a message to Cassian that he would be otherwise occupied that night and could they please have a raincheck because Fer desperately missed him? That last part, of course, had been kept out of the note entirely because Fernando was not yet this pathetic. It was getting close everyday, he realised with a growing sense of hysteria, which probably meant he should do something drastic about it. Maybe do the opposite what Ampi had done and run away to Mexico for a vacation.

Regardless, he had sent the note and poured himself a drink, relaxing a bit on his chair before getting to work. He hadn't even changed out of his work suit, not just yet, deciding to first deal with the financial matters of the estate, his investments, the newest shipment of gold from the mines and drafting a lengthy letter to the goblings about buying the rights for his Mother's engagement ring for another two lifetimes or so even though he had absolutely nothing to do with it. Whatever idiotic fantasies he had been thinking up during the nights he was alone and terribly drunk were supposed to stay there, thank you very much, he thought, as he locked the missive inside one of his drawers to be revisited the next time he became maudlin and nauseatingly romantic despite knowing very well he'd likely be dead within a year or so and that all of his ridiculous fantasies would be impossible regardless.

Viciously picking up a new sheet of parchment, he composed a letter to Elizabeth about her contacts in the US and started on the financial side of his sort of...bold project. He'd have to run it through the Lady Minister, of course, and make sure she knew he was not, in fact trying to undermine her and her policies. But if she was not willing to use Ministry gold to the betterment of the lives of magical creatures, Fernando had quite a bit of it that was just sitting around and that could be put to better use. He was, after all, childless and unmarried. All of his things would go to his sister, when he died, and engaged as she was now, she'd have little need of it. Well, that and he had been planning on leaving part of it - a rather decent part of it - to Jason. Not that Fernando had said anything to anyone, of course. Not even got himself to sign the bloody thing to be presented to the manager of his vaults. Merlin and Morgana, his father would murder him. He had been about to write a letter to a known potioneer that he could use as a supplier for potions - Wolfsbane is ridiculously hard to brew, after all, and it needs to be perfect - when his Mark started to burn and he choked back a scream. What in the blazing hells?.

After three triple doses of whisky to fortify himself - and to calm his racing heart because the burn brought back memories and Fernando had never been as good in compartmentalising as a few people he knew -, he grabbed his wand and Apparated to the...church. Whoever was now assembling the Death Eaters chose a church for it. How quaint. He walked inside, somehow not surprised to see the Lord Rodolphus Azazel Lestrange leading the whole thing. He was, after all, one of the most senior Death Eaters and the husband of their illustrious Lady Minister. Fer knew precious little of the man, other than he had been married to saintly Bella Lestrange and had been horribly, unfairly handsome in his youth. Still was, really, and that wasn't the sort of thing one should think in the presence of people who could read minds. Oh, well. It would teach them to stay out of it. Nodding politely to his future brother-in-law @daniel - a sight better than the last one, he had to say - and Lord Draco Malfoy - his darling sister had patched their relationship up, which meant Fer couldn't call him a prat in his mind anymore -, he walked towards his favourite couple in the world. Bending down to kiss @eleanor 's cheek and then Roma Avery Warrington 's, Fer sat down besides them. "What an exciting time to be alive, my lovely ladies. Think there will be torture and impromptu executions this time around?
I can't say I miss the Cruciatus."

Whatever you do, don't be afraid of the dark
Cover your eyes, the devil inside

outfit

Ironically, his night have been going very well. Thor had gone to work - which was a bit...strange, after Lady Lestrange's takeover but he had backed her and known what would happen after a fashion, so not as strange as it could have been - and actually gotten things done. Not with France, they were still being a thorn on his side, but they had been gathering allies, slowly. Painfully slow and now he owed both his cousin and Parkinson favours, for a good word put in in their respective spheres of influence. All that work was paying off, though, and maybe they had less enemies out there than they had yesterday. Hopefully. It had been a good day, he had gone home and decided to leave, immediately after. That house...it was too dark, too heavy, too quiet. How do you keep going like that, when you've seen the sun again? He can no longer feel at home in the cold halls, for his heart is once again warmed. So Thor...doesn't. He doesn't stay home for longer than it takes to drop his briefcase and pick up a bottle of his favourite whisky. Doesn't speak to Leda, doesn't tell her where he's going. Not that she would care and Thor...had been leaving for other reasons recently but this was the one she was never allowed to know.

Maybe it was selfish of him - who was he kidding, it was entirely selfish - to keep Leander a secret from his brother's own wife but he had been reluctant to share when they first married and Leda's failure in keeping him safe didn't endear her any to Thor. Besides, Leander decided to show himself to Thor and no one else. That meant something. He had to believe it meant something. It was a secret he kept closer to his heart than anything, protected under layers upon layers of mental barriers, so much one would have to tear his mind apart to get to it, and even then Thor was pretty sure he'd die first. Fuck the cause, honestly. If it took his brother away from him again, Thor thought it could all rot in the deepest of hells. Appearing in Leander's doorstep, though, had been a gamble. Whilst it was possible that his brother thought him unaware, Thor knew very well that he had been carrying around with some wench. He could smell her, sometimes, on his clothes. It was...he wasn't thinking on it. As long as he didn't have to see it - like he hadn't seen his second sister-in-law, now thankfully deceased or he would have murdered her himself -, hear about it, Thorfinn didn't want to know. Didn't care enough to know. Leander had his secrets and Thor had his. It was fine. They didn't have to share everything.

But his brother had been alone and he had welcomed Thor inside. They talked, they drank and Thor was feeling...good. That was the word he was going with, for now. That was, until their Marks burned. Fuck, no. Barking Leander an order to stay where he was and not to go anywhere, Thor swept out of the house and Apparated to the location. A bloody church. Figured, really. It was very much not a surprise to see Rodolphus Azazel Lestrange leading this little gathering and Thor looked over the people around, nodding at everyone - he had found it a lot easier to be polite, lately - and settling near @eleanor , Roma Avery Warrington and @fernando . They better have ruined his night for something actually useful. "I was in a good mood for once," he breathed out at El, rolling his eyes at the leer that Parkinson sent his way. Infuriating man.

This was something that needed to be done. He knew that. Andromeda had decided that she had wanted the Ministry. Rodolphus could admit that was hardly something that he had… expected, when she had brought it up. They had all talked about it before-they had talked about what they would do if there ever came a time where Wentzell wasn't doing the job the way that they wanted it done. But she had never brought up taking his place back then. It had been something that he couldn't have guessed, and something that he'd had to come around to. Being Minister wasn't something that he wanted to do. He might have enjoyed the power that came along with it, but that didn't mean that he would ever want all of the work that came with the job. He didn't understand why she wanted to do it at all, actually, but apparently they had, and the rest of the family had supported that. They had made it a reality, and now they had to make sure that the Death Eaters also knew who was in charge. He didn't think that Wentzell would attempt to continue to lead them, but he still thought that a meeting needed to be held sooner rather than later.

It wasn't just proof of new leadership that he needed from tonight. It wasn't just calling them here to show them just who was waiting for them. It was more than that. It was seeing who showed up. Seeing their reactions, and whether or not they expected it to be Wentzell. There was plenty that he wanted that he could gain before this meeting even began. They would have more to talk about. They needed to raise their numbers. He didn't know why Wentzell hadn't done this to begin with, but as the force behind the Ministry, their power needed to be obvious. He wasn't going to accept just anybody-this wasn't the bloody Order. But if there were worthwhile members, then perhaps they would be added to the ranks. It wouldn't be easy. They weren't just going to mark people without them providing that they were worthwhile. It would take time. That was really what needed to be discussed today. Nothing more than that. This was more about who would show up, and what they would do or say. He wanted to see if there was any lingering loyalty to Wentzell. It was a test, of sorts, more than anything else.

But they would get around to talking about what was needed as well. Once everyone showed up. It would be curious to see who wouldn't. He knew that it was last minute-no one would have expected their marks to burn, and some couldn't necessary just come here. He wasn't going to take someone not showing up as outright disloyalty. They didn't even know if it was Wentzell trying to call them, and perhaps that would be why some people wouldn't show up. There was no way of knowing what was going to happen until it did. He was unsurprised that @carlisle and Sloane Cressida Rosier were some of the first to arrive and he nodded in response to the man's words. @sebastian had made it as well, a fact of which was a bit surprising to him. He had known that the man might not just be able to leave the school just like that-and he was also well aware that Wentzell had picked Sebastian for headmaster personally. He might have lingering loyalties. Perhaps he was expecting the other man tonight. Perhaps that was who he wished was here now. @griffith made it rather quickly as well, another fact that was unsurprising. He would know to expect him and not Wentzell at least.

What he thought would be most curious was if Wentzell himself would show up. He wouldn't turn him away. He was still a Death Eater, if he was willing to follow and not lead. He was still a pureblood, even if it was a foreigner. It made him worthwhile to have on their side, he just wasn't good enough to lead them. There was no sign of the man yet, but his sister, @anicka was amongst those joining the ever-filling church. More people arrived, and all in all, he thought that he could say more people had shown up than not. There were a few that he didn't see… mostly notably @ares, and two members of the man's Ministry that might be rather loyal to him--@juliusavery and @raymond. He knew that Andromeda had let Raymond go from the position he'd held under Ares, but Julius still headed up his department the last that he'd heard. Not showing up very well be a slight, but as no one knew who to expect here, he highly doubted it. He wouldn't think much of it. Still, it was time to get started-they weren't going to be here all night. The charms he'd casted around the church would keep Muggles away, that was of no concern to him. He just wasn't much for talking, or speeches, so this wasn't going to take all that long in his mind.

He pushed off from the pew to stand fully and looked around the room. "I know no one was expecting a call tonight…" He didn't feel the need to raise his voice, but as the room was quiet, he felt no need. "As you know, the Ministry is now held, rightfully by a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and as such, I thought it was time that the Death Eaters were as well. I trust there are no complaints on that front." His eyebrows rose at his words. It was part warning, part general curiosity. Would anyone complain? Depending on who they were and the words that they chose, an example might have to be made of them. He wouldn't mind that. Violence always taught… quite the lesson, in his mind. Still, he didn't think anyone present here tonight was stupid enough to complain to his face. At the very least, they should be wise enough to do so to a more forgiving audience. "There isn't much to be said tonight. There's been little resistance from the Order thus far, but I expect them to make noise at any time now. When they do, we will deal with them accordingly." He didn't know what they were planning, but he assumed that it would become apparent soon enough. "What I wanted to discuss tonight is the strengthening of our own numbers."

Even if you are wrong
you are right
Even if it's a terrible crime
IT'S alright
Cause I got your back

APPEARANCE

At the burn of his mark, Rabastan did not hesitate. He dropped the corpse he had been levitating and disapparated to the outskirts of London. There were very few possibilities as to who would summon the lot. His brother was the only one that the Lestrange believed had the right. If it was Ares calling the marked, then he was a fool. One Rabastan would happily put an end to. Perhaps it was careless to apparate alone without any real preparations. But what trap could have been lain that he was not capable of eluding? The Ministry posed no threat. The Order was nothing to fear, either. What families of worth and merit did not stand with the Lestranges? In his very elitist opinion, there were none.

The younger Lestrange found his brother waiting inside the church. Neither had bothered with masks. A smirk played on Rab's face as he strolled forward. He gave a nod of greeting, but did not bother with speech beyond that. There was no need. Rabastan had been there with Rodolphus from the beginning. He was his brother's first and most dependable ally--whether Rod saw him as such or not. His brother might have been foolish enough to put his wife before his blood, now, but Rabastan did not like to think that such a thing was the case. For all the judgment the elder might have held against the younger, Rabastan liked to believe that his brother at the very least respected him above others.

He had not been surprised by the location Rodolphus had chosen for the gathering this evening. The church was where they had gathered in the recent and the far past. It felt right to return there. Much moreso than it had when Ares had asked them to come. That had been an ambomination. This was just and right. His brother was, in Rabastan's mind, the only choice to lead those marked and masked. He always been to Rabastan.

Sitting to the right of his brother, Rabastan faced the door, watching with mild interest as others began to filter into the church. None that arrived were particularly interesting to him. The sister of the Ares god of nothing arrived. Perhaps that was of note. Rabastan was not very surprised though, considering she and Nott were entangled with one another and Nott he had expected to attend.

More and more of their compatriots filtered into the church....and eventually, his brother stood. Rabastan paid no more mind to who might arrive. Instead, his eyes were on the other Lestrange. The words spoken were short. This was what any who knew him would expect of Rodolphus. "Here, here," Rabastan had echoed when his brother had--in a rather veiled manner--announced himself as the one to lead them into the future.

Bringing new members into their fold--that tidbit did pique his interest. He supported the growing of a dark, purist army. It was a wise decision. Approval to the idea was displayed in his expression...not that Rodolphus had required Rabastan's approval, or even sought it. But the younger gave the endorsement all the same.

Sebastian hadn't decided instantaneously to come tonight; he was responsible for an entire school of students and staff, and abandoning his post so suddenly could naturally lead to more than just a few problems. Problems that Sebastian neither wanted or needed on his plate. Yet at the same time, after his little chat with Andromeda just before term had resumed, he had known that something was up. With Ares being denounced from the Ministry by Lady Lestrange, the question of whether he still held the rule over the Death Eaters had arisen punctually and without delay. The only reason he really had Hogwarts was because of Ares, but Andromeda had stated that she wanted him to continue on at his post. He had her blessing, so to speak. And when his mark had burned while he was in his office reading through the last term's overview again, he had known he had a choice to make. And it had been a clear one. Although Ares was a close friend and he owed him a lot, his allegiance was to the cause. Therefore, to whoever it was who had summoned him. And he had promptly stood, grabbed his cloak, and left.

He had left word of course; he couldn't very well waltz out of the castle with absolutely no word otherwise there would be cause for alarm. Perhaps of the idiotic "he's abandoning his post" variety. He hadn't made a meal of it. The word had been put in and he had left, swinging his cloak around his shoulders and clasping it as he strode down the corridors and out into the grounds. Meeting up with Lucian put him neither up nor down. It wasn't an arrangement, nor an understanding. It just was, and while he might have cracked a smile and a joke over the synchronicity of their steps and stride, now was neither the time nor place. Nor was he in the mood. Where his thoughts lay was on what- or who- lay ahead of him and what they had to say. They had his full attention and he'd hear them out to the end before formulating an opinion. All that he was sure of was simply this: Whoever it was that had taken over from Wentzell was more than adept at what they needed and would be more than worthy of his respect. And as long as he remained sure of that fact, he had no qualms.

Lucian split like a log beneath an axe off towards a different part of the church when they arrived, but Sebastian barely spared him a glance as he looked over who was there. @carlisle had made it. @eleanor and Roma Avery Warrington were, of course, in appearance, and he flashed them a smile as he looked around. His gaze settled on Rodolphus Azazel Lestrange after a moment, standing at the furthest point away from him. And suddenly everything made sense. It was a dramatic setting for a meeting. Macabre to a point. Isolated. With echoing halls that would carry the man's soft voice to even those sitting at the very back, if anyone chose to do so. He highly doubted anyone would be so crass as to act such a slight but then he was not anyone else and could only surmise based off of his own ideals. Semantics.

He slipped into a seat behind his friends as Rodolphus finally stepped up to speak, folding his hands into his lap. The man was correct in surmising that there would be no- or at least very little- resistance, and he also had to nod over the subject of the 'famed and esteemed' Order of the Phoenix. Oh they'd all heard of the group but currently Sebastian imagined them to be very little more than a pity party. After his little... slip up... that had led to the purging of the Mudblood's from his school and mainly from society as they knew it- No, he had no regrets. None- he had imagined that there would be at least a hint of a ripple from the 'other side' in retaliation. Yet the registration had long closed. And there had still been nothing. It was almost as if they had already given up or just didn't have the heart to fight this time. Pathetic. And frankly, extremely disappointing. It was like going to a show expecting fireworks and finding out they had forgotten them, and had run out of sparklers. A major let down for all involved.