Black Sunday
Jun. 14th, 2006 10:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wand_waversFoul whisperings are abroad. Unnatural deeds
Voldemort had waited a very long time for this. This day would be the true beginning of his march to victory. He'd allowed enough time for the populace of the Wizarding world to grow more complacent. Even with the neverending stream of minor attacks planned to unnerve them on a daily basis, his spies reported that many people thought they were safe, that the war would not impact them.
Do breed unnatural troubles
They were wrong. Oh, so wrong. He would strike quickly and fiercely. His army is ready.
Be bloody, bold, and resolute
There is a map of Britain on the wall of the borrowed ballroom. Little lights glow upon it, marking the houses to target. Teams have been assigned, and timelines and checkpoints established.
Blood will have blood
He faces his kneeling minions, his arms outstretched. "Now you shall know carnage, my loyal fighters. You will spare no one. The smallest child, the weakest grandmother, all must die. Their bodies shall be brought back to me, but leave blood. Leave the Dark Mark. Leave blood traitors as witnesses. Leave no doubt that we are ruthless and will do what we want when we want it!" His voice rises to a maniacal shriek and the Death Eaters kneeling before him are silent as the grave.
What, all my pretty chickens and their dam
At one fell swoop?
"Arise, Death Eaters," the Dark Lord hisses. "Arise and show no mercy."
Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.
In clusters the Death Eaters disapparate in a series of pops.
The cry is still, "They come!"
Voldemort smiles and waits. This is a glorious day.
Voldemort had waited a very long time for this. This day would be the true beginning of his march to victory. He'd allowed enough time for the populace of the Wizarding world to grow more complacent. Even with the neverending stream of minor attacks planned to unnerve them on a daily basis, his spies reported that many people thought they were safe, that the war would not impact them.
Do breed unnatural troubles
They were wrong. Oh, so wrong. He would strike quickly and fiercely. His army is ready.
Be bloody, bold, and resolute
There is a map of Britain on the wall of the borrowed ballroom. Little lights glow upon it, marking the houses to target. Teams have been assigned, and timelines and checkpoints established.
Blood will have blood
He faces his kneeling minions, his arms outstretched. "Now you shall know carnage, my loyal fighters. You will spare no one. The smallest child, the weakest grandmother, all must die. Their bodies shall be brought back to me, but leave blood. Leave the Dark Mark. Leave blood traitors as witnesses. Leave no doubt that we are ruthless and will do what we want when we want it!" His voice rises to a maniacal shriek and the Death Eaters kneeling before him are silent as the grave.
What, all my pretty chickens and their dam
At one fell swoop?
"Arise, Death Eaters," the Dark Lord hisses. "Arise and show no mercy."
Those clamorous harbingers of blood and death.
In clusters the Death Eaters disapparate in a series of pops.
The cry is still, "They come!"
Voldemort smiles and waits. This is a glorious day.
no subject
Date: 2006-06-18 11:29 pm (UTC)In Paris, the lights go out in the Latin Quarter and Montmartre, and the great red wind mill of the Moulin Rouge where the witches, harpies, veela, and mixed breeds dance until the early morning.
In Madrid, Retiro and La Latina. In Lavapiés, the historic poor neighborhood full of mix bloods, half breeds, and muggles that grew up in the old Europe magic, all the candles go out at once.
In Rome, the motor scooters shut off, the street lights go out, and there is the hollow drumming of foot steps along the Via Appia.
In Berlin, the neon lights of Mitte underground blink twice before going out. The Zürich theatre district goes dark. From the top of the Acropolis, all of Athens goes dark. Israel, Palestine, Portugal, Ireland, Norway, the Netherlands.
And there is a great cry that rose in Egypt like that had not been heard in millennia.
Britain isn't alone tonight.