Gringotts Bank [ marked ]

[Megara Candlebright]

2 February

The third and final stop on Megara's route that night was England's wizarding bank. Diagon Alley, of course, was going to be trickier than the Ministry or St. Mungo's. Even with the diminished crowd and the nearly non-existant night life in Diagon Alley, there was a much better chance of running into someone who would know or care what she was doing than by the Muggle-oriented entrances of her other two targets. All that meant, though, was that she would have to work quickly.

Of course, for the bigger risk she was taking, she'd have to go bigger with her mark as well. The last two had been small, subtle; at this landmark location in the busiest wizarding area in London, Meg had a motto: go big or go home. Within moments the entrance doors were plastered with one large, moving Dark Mark. She put another on a nearby column for good measure, before apparating away and leaving no trace that it had been her.


[ Open: react away! ]

[Nick Taylor]

It was unseasonably warm for an early February morning, but it was also far from the 25 degree temperatures typical of the summer months. As such, Nick Taylor walked with his head down, chin pressed against his chest, bundled in a jacket. So early in the morning, Diagon Alley was nearly abandoned, leaving the man certain he was unlikely to bump into someone with his head down.

He did not typically walk through Diagon Alley during such early hours, but the shop owner neglected to make his deposit the night before. Nick preferred not to keep so much cash in his shop, simply for security reasons, so he wanted to be certain to bring the gold to the wizarding bank before he opened his own store. Being so close, the man opted to walk to Gringotts rather than apparating, as most wizards and witches did.

Finally approaching the steps, the wand maker looked up at the bank and took a sharp breath of air. The front doors were covered with a huge, moving Dark Mark, a sign Nick hadn't seen in quite some time. Frozen to the spot, his bag of money clutched against his torso, the man was unable to move. In fact, he was unable to focus his attention on anything but Gringotts' main doors. As a result, he didn't even see the smaller Dark Mark on a nearby column.

Nick was indeed frozen to the spot, although not because of the cold weather...



{That's a Celsius temperature, FYI. Roughly 77 or 78 in Fahrenheit.}

[Luce Beauvais]

With the warm weather canceling out any plans that she had of 'chucking a sickie', as she had heard it being described as during her time in Australia, Luce had to go to training. She didn't really want to practice healing today, but really, her schedule was empty, and there was no point not going. Luce really had nothing better to do anyways. She was rather bored of her home, and she couldn't go to her parents house without getting a lecture, Luce decided that it was time to get up and get ready. She was a lot earlier than she had to be, but she knew that that was okay, it wouldn't hurt at all.

Dressed in a pair of jeans and an Eskimo jumper, opting for the more muggle look to get her through London, Luce was surprised to see that Diagon Alley was rather empty. She hadn't really seen it like this, as every time she came for her school things, she seemed to have arrived during rush hour. Wandering through the street, Luce kept her head down, as she still wasn't very warm. With a smile on her face, and a shopping list in her hand, Luce decided that she'd go to the wizard bank first, before getting ingredients for her potions.

Approaching the steps to Gringotts, the wizard bank, Luce saw a man, frozen to the spot. She wasn't really sure what was going through his mind, ("Damn divination, or whatever it is..." She had spoken once before, on account of not being able to read her best friends mind.), but she didn't think that it was going to be good. Walking in front of the man, attempting to break his gaze, Luce spotted something that she knew wasn't meant to be there. A moving dark mark, posted on the main doors. Immediately, Luce's mind filled with weird thoughts, was someone hurt, had things been stolen?

"Oh my gosh." She spoke, dropping the contents of her hands onto the ground. "Oh my ... gosh..." She repeated, not knowing what to do, nor what to say.

[Nick Taylor]

Living during the second rise of Voldemort, Nick knew everything the dark mark represented. Fear. Violence. Horror. Death. He knew it was placed above a building whenever the dark lord's posse had killed someone... but that was so long ago. The same couldn't possibly be true now, right?

"Oh my... gosh."

Nick was vaguely aware that someone was near him, but was too focused on the implications of the swirling mark on the front doors of the bank. Someone could be dead inside; and, if that was the case, the shop owner wondered if it was Deva activity or something else. Finally, though, at the sound of the female's voice, Nick regained full consciousness and became more aware of his surroundings.

Angling his body to look at her face, Nick spoke, softly. "We need to go inside and see if anyone is hurt... or..." The man didn't finish his thought.

[Luce Beauvais]

Luce really couldn't believe what she was seeing. She knew that the world wasn't full of saints and angels, but she never thought that she'd see that sign again. She was only a child during the second rise of Voldemort, and didn't know too much about it, except what she had read and been told. She definitely wasn't in the mix of it all, and that made Luce glad. Why would you want to be involved, it just seemed inhuman. She wasn't really sure what the sign meant, whether it was someone had died, gotten hurt, or something had been stolen. But heck, Luce wanted to get the bottom of the mystery.

Bending over to pick up the things that she had dropped, she opened her bag and placed them in there. She was lost for words, the three that had been uttered had been a small exception. She wasn't sure whether the person with her was paying attention to her, or even knew she was there, but she had a feeling that he had had the same reaction to the presence of the mark. "Thats... It that ze Dark Mark?" Luce whispered, so the man would only just hear her. She wanted to be sure, but she didn't want to seem too stupid.

"Je ne peux pas le croire, que cela l'incident, oh mon, oh mon, ce qui continue!" Luce said, realising that she had just spoken in French. It was still the girl's irst language, one that she spoke at home. English she had to think about, French just came naturally. Translating into - I can't believe this, what it happening, oh my, oh my, what is going on! - Luce was really nervous. "Oh, o'course! Right away!" She said, a frightful look towards the man.

[Nick Taylor]

As of late, it was not unusual for the women around Nick to suddenly begin speaking a language other than English. However, the foreign language was generally German and so the wand maker was quite surprised to hear French. The man knew very little French; hello and good-bye, perhaps, and maybe a few others. As a result, he had absolutely no idea what the woman said.

If his primary focus were not the potentially injured people inside the bank, the shop owner would have probably been quite concerned that he was dealing with someone who might not know any English. Luckily, any would-be-concerns were diminished when the stranger spoke Nick's native tongue. If he was about to dive head-first into a possibly dangerous situation in the bank, the man wanted to know that he could communicate with his quasi-partner.

Nick was not a selfish man, but he was a business man. While the lives of others were definietly more important than money, he wasn't ready to give up his bag of gold just yet. As such, he tucked it safely under his arm before pulling out his wand. "Alright, then..." Nick said, glancing at the apparently-French woman. "Are you ready?"

[Gail Lawrence]

Gail brought her cloak tighter around her as she appeared in Diagon Alley. Her shift at the Cauldron started far too early this morning, and she still could not believe she had been dragged in at this hour. Apparently, there was some high and fancy to-do going on in the pub today, and the Big Boss wanted everything perfect when it happened. She rolled her eyes. That was impossible, even with magic. Especially with magic, sometimes.

As she walked toward Charing Cross, she saw a man and a woman standing in the middle of the Alley. Both were staring at Gringotts with something akin to horror. She turned to see what they were looking at and gave a small gasp. The Dark Lord's symbol was plastered over both giant doors into the wizard bank.

Gail had heard of the increasing Code Eleven violations over the past few years, but she had never seen one herself. Now, she rather thought her Dad had a point. Defending a random person's right to do this was one thing, but being faced with it was something else entirely. It could have been placed by anyone, from a kid on a dare to a member of Deva. And it could mean anything--or nothing at all.

The man pulled his wand and began to move toward the symbol. He did not seem to be the one who did this, but it was hard to tell these days.

With an eye on each of them, she stepped into the dim morning light. "What happened?" Gail asked, her amazement unfeigned. She tried to inconspicuously pull her wand, just in case they were unfriendly or, worse, the ones that did the deed.

[Nick Taylor]

Nick was definietly on edge, considering that he was assuming the worst. He just knew they would open the door and find something terrible inside... perhaps even death. It was a lie to say that the wand maker actually smelled fear, but at that exact moment, he was sure that he did. The man was suspicious of everyone, including the French woman standing next to him...

...and especially the new-comer. At the sound of her voice, Nick whipped his wand and pointed it at her. Perhaps, in any other instance, the action would be considered rude. At the moment, however, the shop owner didn't care whatsoever if he was perceived as rude. This young woman could very well be the same person who marked the bank. There was absolutely no way to know for sure, and the man had no intentions of letting down his guard until he was fairly confident.

"It appears that someone has plastered Gringotts' with the dark mark," Nick said, cruelly. Usually, he would never be so rude, but his stress levels were quite high and his suspicions aroused.

[Luce Beauvais]

Luce knew that the man she was with was scared, even if he wasn't showing it too much. It was a sort of sixth sense that the girl had, she knew when someone was worried, or even scared. She didn't want to say anything, as rudeness was something that could have been percieved with what she would have said, but instead, decided to leave it, and totally forget about it, as she sure as heck was scared too. She didn't want to seem like she was bottling things up, as so many people told her that that was the wrong thing to do, but she really didn't want to be seen as being a coward.

Stepping back as the man brought out his wand at quick haste when the other girl arrived, this made Luce slightly panic. She had never been in too much danger before, and she couldn't help but feel that this man was suspicious, but with the Dark Mark stuck on Gringotts, who could blame him? Shaking her head, not meaning to, but judging the man as rude, Luce tutted, and folded her arms. "Oh non." She spoke, getting the people's attention. "This, this is no time to be arguing." She shrugged, gesturing to the bank. "We 'ave to go in, and see what is wrong."

"We 'ave to, its our obligation."

[Michelangelo Bruno]

He just needed to get to Gringotts, just needed to get there and do some business...of sorts. Some funds needed to be moved yet again, and Gringotts was the place to do it. Or at least that is what Michelangelo had been told. He heard rumors that it was where curse-breakers worked from. Not much different than the system he had worked in while he was employed in Italy. But those were many years ago for Michelangelo, and he was tired of such work. In fact, he wanted nothing to do with even hearing those dreaded words. Curse-breaker...humph, what a job.

He was in no mood to deal with what appeared to be a bunch of pedestrians standing about doing nothing. Nothing but babble on at each other, from the distance Michelangelo could not fully hear exactly what was being said, though he could tell that at least one of them had been upset. Some man brandishing his wand like it were some kind of child's toy? Honestly, the incomprehensible recklessness of some people. He was wearing today his long dark cloak, over a full suit which was black as well. Even the tie was as black as night, though the interior of the cape glowed a crimson red in comparison the the rest of the garb. A cane in his right hand added a third beat to his gate, it's metal tip making a higher pitch sound than his oddly checkered shoes.

When he was within ear shot he could hear the reckless man. Dark mark? He had heard of such a thing before, only rumor here and there in his travels. It was the mark of the Deva that much he knew, but he was never actually able to see it very closely. So his attention was grasped by what they must have been talking about.

He searched the exterior of the building for a hint of what distressed these individuals so much. Coming across what must be it he walked right past those people he had just before condoled as foolish, he now considered them hardly important. He just ignored whatever they might say to his next action, not much these apparent cowards would have done anyway. This was a clue to finding those he needed to find. And he needed to take it seriously, he needed to examine it and learn from the mark all he could. Not to long from now the scene was likely to be closed off to him and the rest of these people. He reached out, almost bringing his hand into contact with the mark on a column. He could feel nothing of it, well done work for sure, this was not some child that wanted attention, or had wanted to show off their skill. Well, perhaps it was the later but a professional child if that were the case.

“We 'ave to, its our obligation. ”
“Yes,” he turned back to those others that were there, “perhaps there are clues inside.” He could not be sure that any of those there were as interested in the mark as he was. From their reactions, they seemed more fearful than anything. If just a mark brought such fear to these wizards, then everything he heard about the Deva was verified in that one mark. Outstanding, he thought to himself.