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interest e: probably a wyrm? someone awful. fucked around with this message at 22:42 on Jun 27, 2015 |
# ¿ Jun 27, 2015 17:54 |
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# ¿ Apr 24, 2024 06:44 |
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Seth Mercer, the Wyrm If you ask me, Voldemort didn't have it all wrong. No, don't look at me like that -- he was completely off-base with the blood purity nonsense, and murder is never justified, but listen. I read all about him, I know everything there is to know... and in my humble opinion? There is only power, and those too weak to seek it. How is that a controversial statement? The thing that Voldemort didn't understand -- or refused to let himself see -- was that love is just another form of power. Why bother with using the Imperius on everyone you've crossed when you can simply avoid crossing people to begin with? Obtain their loyalty, and wield it, and you will have no finer tool: it can be the finest needle or the sharpest sword; you need only know who to call on and when. I don't blame him for not seeing the obvious. He was only mortal; only a poor, sad half-blood full to bursting with self-resentment and ambition beyond his reach. Take my father. He started small, working as a foreign liaison for Gringott's, but even this was a position of respect. Respect leads to allegiances; with his newfound connections across the sea, he was able to set up his own business. You may have heard of it -- Mercer's Miscellany, the import shop on Knockturn Alley? Purveyor of fine wizarding curiosities and handicrafts from every corner of the map? All right, I'll grant you that it's no cultish army willing to lay their lives down for some lost cause, but that wasn't what he was going for. His father, my grandfather, made him start his work from scratch, create his fortune from the ground up. And he did. He's a tidy little hoard now, with more Galleons than a man could hope to spend, a small museum's worth of supposedly lost artefacts, and allies -- I mean, friends -- to call on for any need he may possibly lack. What more can a being want out of life? I'm going to be expected to do similar once I've graduated: to forge my own empire, to find my own way. Such, unfortunately, is my birthright. The most important lesson I've learned from watching my father is that empires -- and hoards -- are built on the backs of others, whether they willingly bow or need to be brought to their knees. But let's put that all aside for now, yes? Sit down, sit down; I've the kettle on -- do you fancy a bit of tea? Can I make you more comfortable somehow? You'll learn there are perks to serving m- I mean, being my friend. Let's have a chat, shall we? quote:Seth Mercer, the Wyrm (Slytherin) quote:Tell me about one of your classes. But they say the Defense position is cursed, don't they? And true, this is her first year at it... quote:Tell me about a secret you've discovered at Hogwarts. quote:Tell me about another student that's significant to you for good or ill. I'm not one to insult people lightly; nearly every person has value, if only as a pawn. But Ramona? Eghhh. She somehow embodies every milquetoast, generic, obnoxious trait a stereotypical Hufflepuff could possibly have. (There's a joke that she's a reincarnation of Helga herself. I shudder to think.) For some reason, she's decided she likes me (as a friend, she was quick to state. Repeatedly.), so for every class I share with her she tries to sit next to me, partner up with me for pairs work, et cetera.She has the most obnoxious laugh and I rarely escape these things unscathed; I can make it out with only a headache if I'm lucky. Her favorite subject is Muggle Studies, which I've long held is a completely worthless and outright insulting waste of a class, and she's a half-blood besides so I don't understand what she gets out of it. Why won't she realize that I detest her? Is she that thick? I'm quite keen to make connections outside of my house, but... why her? someone awful. fucked around with this message at 21:44 on Jun 28, 2015 |
# ¿ Jun 28, 2015 09:45 |