Some say it's a combat zone, trying to protect all the things that we own

[like-a-boss.livejournal.com]

*There had been offers, of course. Many in His circle had waxed lyrical on what an honour it would be and how His presence would be a profuse grace upon their homes.

These offers were staunchly disregarded, the most pathetic of these occasionally with a Cruciatus Curse.

Instead, their chosen space is small and windowless. An old, crumbling cellar paved in mossy stone and hung with dim gas lamps. A meticulously rendered map of Britain swallows one of the walls, its surface home to multitudes of agitated dots, some move erratically across the map, as if pacing, some stay very still, and occasionally some merely fade out of existence entirely, bleeding back into the parchment. Below it, hidden away in the corner, Regulus Black's small frame is swallowed by ink bottles and thick rolls of paper.

The meeting is over now, His intentions have been aired - however, the process of how has only just begun. The headquarters of the International Confederation of Wizards will not be easy to take, much less in a month. Yet, there's an air of shrewd confidence to the room, discussions of strategy giving way to pockets of less efficient interaction. In the centre, Lord Voldemort himself is seated. For a man who has done everything in His power to cease being a man, He looks jarringly human on His perch, His long fingers folded, His spine against the chair's. Several of his followers, now standing, look distinctly uncomfortable with the arrangement, as if shell-shocked that something as normal as leaning back against a chair could possibly happen to a being whose gendered pronouns are pronounced with capitals.*

Comments

[spindleform.livejournal.com]

*Regulus follows Barty's unorthodoxly told proposal easily, but the introduction of the Mark into the equation - as well as into his personal space - leaves him blindsided. He finally looks away to ruffle through stacks of parchment, looking for the information gathered about the ICW's defences even though he has it memorised, it was he who drew them up.*

I'm not sure if that's an option...

[whysosadistic.livejournal.com]

*Mulciber is standing nearby, listening to Barty's idea with a steely look of scepticism.*

And what, exactly, happens when they try to get out and aren't recognized? Do they just stand there, shitting themselves?

[mad-actually.livejournal.com]

That's the point.

They're trapped. Shitting. With us. We can go in and out if it gets sticky. They can't. I guess things will get sticky either way, then. What with the visceral fluids. We could even - YES.

*He leans over Reg's parchment, tracing inked hallways with a finger, babbling to himself under his breath.*

[spindleform.livejournal.com]

Barty...

*He shifts the map slightly closer to Barty to give them both more space bent over the papers.*

These wards are based on magic alone, a particular form of force, they're not pinpointed toward certain wizards. To do that - I'm not even sure where to start.

I would have to know the developmental processes the Dark Lord goes through to Mark us at all, the fundamentals of what He uses, how much of the Mark is Him and how much is our own signature... I doubt He would even tell me.

[purely-better.livejournal.com]

He wouldn't.

*Lucius murmurs in an undertone, casting the smallest of glances over his shoulder toward the Dark Lord. For all that he was ready to hit Barty for interrupting him, even he has to admit that the idea is useful. The risk of being trapped inside their own wards had occurred to him, and he prefers, always, an escape hatch.

And that their Lord won't talk about the marks, he feels certain. That's part of the price of their inclusion - they bear these signs, but none of them fully understand all of the implications, how it's made, all that it does. Lucius hasn't even tried finding out, too nervous at the idea that the Dark Lord would somehow know if he tampered with it.*

[deviantcause.livejournal.com]

The concept of that excellent theory could still be applied, except without the use of the Mark - or overstepping our boundaries. I might be able to find research in the Department of Mysteries that may help you, Regulus.

[spindleform.livejournal.com]

*He purses his lips in thought but keeps coming back to Barty's original idea and feeling as though the Dark Lord is listening in like a dangerously watchful parent spying on plotting children.*

Perhaps...

But Barty is right, it's something we all share. The restrictions would have to be modified to make a loophole, and that would be much more confusing on an individual basis.

[mad-actually.livejournal.com]

*Barty looks up from the map, his mask leering ever on. He's strangely focused, as he always is during meetings. His erratic, derailing energy somewhat contained - as if he too feels the Dark Lord's presence acutely and responds with the stringent obedience he's never afforded his father.*

What if you just make the ward clever? Make it learn things. But only one thing. And the fist and last thing it learns is the Mark. Then you wont have to ask Him anything, obviously. Can we talk about hallways now? I want to talk about hallways.

[purely-better.livejournal.com]

No, we cannot talk about hallways now.

*Lucius snaps finally, a bit, but he can't help it. Abnormally focused by Barty's standards is still gratingly annoying by his own. Returning his attention to Regulus, who is at least sane, he tries again and fails to sound patient.*

Can you do it or not?

[spindleform.livejournal.com]

Theoretically, I believe.

[whysosadistic.livejournal.com]

Something tells me we need a little more assurance than "theoretically" here.

[spindleform.livejournal.com]

Well I - know how I might do it. It would be rather complicated, Apparation can be done wrong very easily and wards weren't intended to be modified, originally.

But it does make sense. It's logical.

[purely-better.livejournal.com]

Well, that's bolstering. Care to give it a test run, mm? Barty?