(no subject)
Date: Monday, April 10, 2000 (backdated to suit the earlier arrangements)
Time: Evening around 19.00
Location: Knockturn Alley
Characters Involved: Montague and Millicent Morsus [and OPEN after the duo gets hold of the potion]
Rating: R or so for the potential darkness of the venture. And because it's the fabulously gory duo after a Polyjuice Potion.
Status: Complete
The sun was a few inches above the line of horizon, casting ghastly shadows at the shady buildings, gothic or outright creepy, only deteriorating their already dark look. There was a certain air of the macabre, be it in the way the populace was dressed or the expressions they wore on their faces, all distorted with some degree of Death Personified and the havoc She wrought. It was not the most pleasant of places, despite the most pleasant concepts and notions it embodied. There was the very fleshy smell of shrunken heads and scalps and slugs and old rotting hags all sweetly covered in the smears of spiritual faeces. Montague had never liked the place for purely aesthetic reasons, yet he loved the very fact it existed, like a dirty stain on the perfectly clean and innocent face of the clergy, always -always- tainted in one or another way. And like it was the case with the clergy, so it was with the notorious Knockturn Alley - everyone knew of its existence, yet nothing could be done for its complete annihilation.
Dressed in trendy clothing made of dark and pleasant-to-touch material, Montague and Millicent Morsus had been walking down the dark alley, it's many windows (gaping like empty eye-sockets) unlit and unwelcoming. Montague had heard once it was at dusk that the evil started its triumphant parade throughout all of the world - it could not have been farther from truth. Evil was at its best during the daylight on a sunny yard where an eight year old girl with golden plaits could be hit with a finely aimed Cruciatus, so that her stubborn father would finally acquiesce. And even then, the girl would be forever crippled, for the Unforgivable (Montague smirked at the word) was one that always left its mark.
"There's our beautiful potions master, although I doubt the woman is as masterful as Master Snape," Montague finally broke the silence between the two, as they approached the grimy shack, the residence place of an old hag.
Time: Evening around 19.00
Location: Knockturn Alley
Characters Involved: Montague and Millicent Morsus [and OPEN after the duo gets hold of the potion]
Rating: R or so for the potential darkness of the venture. And because it's the fabulously gory duo after a Polyjuice Potion.
Status: Complete
The sun was a few inches above the line of horizon, casting ghastly shadows at the shady buildings, gothic or outright creepy, only deteriorating their already dark look. There was a certain air of the macabre, be it in the way the populace was dressed or the expressions they wore on their faces, all distorted with some degree of Death Personified and the havoc She wrought. It was not the most pleasant of places, despite the most pleasant concepts and notions it embodied. There was the very fleshy smell of shrunken heads and scalps and slugs and old rotting hags all sweetly covered in the smears of spiritual faeces. Montague had never liked the place for purely aesthetic reasons, yet he loved the very fact it existed, like a dirty stain on the perfectly clean and innocent face of the clergy, always -always- tainted in one or another way. And like it was the case with the clergy, so it was with the notorious Knockturn Alley - everyone knew of its existence, yet nothing could be done for its complete annihilation.
Dressed in trendy clothing made of dark and pleasant-to-touch material, Montague and Millicent Morsus had been walking down the dark alley, it's many windows (gaping like empty eye-sockets) unlit and unwelcoming. Montague had heard once it was at dusk that the evil started its triumphant parade throughout all of the world - it could not have been farther from truth. Evil was at its best during the daylight on a sunny yard where an eight year old girl with golden plaits could be hit with a finely aimed Cruciatus, so that her stubborn father would finally acquiesce. And even then, the girl would be forever crippled, for the Unforgivable (Montague smirked at the word) was one that always left its mark.
"There's our beautiful potions master, although I doubt the woman is as masterful as Master Snape," Montague finally broke the silence between the two, as they approached the grimy shack, the residence place of an old hag.