Amycus stared at Avery for a few full minutes. “You can die from drinking too much,” he said bluntly. (ooc: sldfkjs don’t remember the context of this but was it about drinking or? anyway. xD) “You can die from too much of anything. Alcohol is one of them.” Given Amycus…
Oh, how Yaxley liked the smell of Avery’s hair—what.
Someone observing from a window would probably see four doozy’s flopping around and making out with each other. This so called party was out of control. By now it seemed that they’d all forgotten that they were Wizards as Lucius had put on his mother’s apron and had started sweeping the floor with a shoe. Yaxley was on the floor, once again and Avery looked like he was about to throw himself off a mountain.
Standing up — again, Yaxley headed over to Amycus because he seemed like the most sane out of everyone there (but then again, he was one to talk.) No one can really control themselves when they’re drunk, and with Yaxley being slightly annoyed at Avery’s lack of concern about his throbbing back, he blurted something out that may just result with a knife through his skull.
“Hey Amam” he slurred, “What’s your outlook on Avocado and dolodog having da secks the other day?” Yaxley knew Dolohov was an animal, but this was quite the story.
Everything had gone quiet (well Yaxley wasn’t exactly the quietist person) and the death glare Avery was giving him made him chuckle. Lucius had fallen on his face, and Amycus just looked amused. Thinking that he had done a great job, Yaxley continued his gossip.
“I mean, i didn’t see them, but when i went in afterwards, the room smelt of fresh sweat, and there were dents and broken furniture everywhere…”
Yaxley made himself comfortable, and took the beer out of a shocked Amycus’ hand.
He needed to pee.
Times were getting dark, but for the opposition. Voldemort didn’t care about darkness. He owned darkness. He was darkness. He also had followers that he could rely on. Followers that showed up whenever he summoned them. Followers that didn’t mind… learning.
Voldemort approached Malfoy Manor, his allocated head quarters. All the other Death Eaters in his opinion lived in holes, and well, Lord Voldemort doesn’t sit in holes. His visit today was because of an attendance issue. There were a few missing from his ranks, and he wanted to know why, and what could possibly be more important than the power of pure-bloods.
With a swift movement, the door opened at once, and Lord Voldemort was kindly greeted with un-called-for chaos.
Raising his eyebrow — not at the nickname, but rather the content of the words that spilled out in drunken slurs from Yaxley’s mouth, Amycus couldn’t help but let an amused smile lift his lips. “I thought Dolohov had a girlfriend,” he remarked. “Is our Avery a homewrecker now?” It was rare that he made witty quips as this, but the situation called for it. Avery slept with Dolohov. That was something he could hold over either one’s head for a very long time. “Dents and broken furniture. I’m actually impressed you can still sit straight. Well, congratulations to the happy couple, then.” He clapped several times, eyes keyed-in on Avery for affect, and scowled when Yaxley plucked the beer from between his hands. “Get your own, mate,” he growled simply, before grabbing it back and promptly sloshing some onto the both of them.
Before he could take another sip, though — the doors swung open. He spun around, expecting to see a Malfoy, but to his surprise — instead, the Dark Lord. Wait, what? He rubbed his eyes. He wasn’t even that drunk yet, and he was seeing things. Lucius had slipped something in all their drinks, perhaps.
Still, just in case he wasn’t seeing things, he coughed and smacked the closest one to him — Yaxley — and gave him a pointed stare, in hopes of communicating Shut up, you buffoon in an angry glower. Unfortunately, he just ended up looking angry, so he cleared his throat once more and announced, “Shut up, everyone, you’re giving me a fucking headache.”