Post by Michelangelo Bruno on Feb 27, 2009 3:05:40 GMT -5
“Damned muggles” Michelangelo muttered to himself, “if they only knew what power was lost among them.” He shuffled down the busy street looking at the ground. Scanning it for something. The holes in his pocket had appeared randomly, he had no idea such a thing had happened to his favorite piece. Yet here it was in complete disarray, even now his hands remained within them. He had no time for this, it was trivial, yet so important that he retraced his steps feverishly.
He crashed recklessly through the crowds of the nothings that surrounded him in the nameless street, one of many in London. Had he not gone out today, had he not decided it was a tolerable day to search for regents this would never have happened. “Perhaps across the street,” Michelangelo said to himself, “or perhaps it was not lost at all.” He paused at the thought and a flash of rage crossed the old Italian mind. Stolen? If that were the case there would be grave consequences. Whomever stole from Michelangelo Bruno would be no more on this day. And if they were a muggle all the more reason. Not that they would know what to do with it, they'd likely fall to their own curiosity.
A smirk fell across the old face as he thought such a thing. Cruel that it was the chimera core that was gone, it was far more dangerous than any of his others. He crossed the street with haste, allowing no time for vehicles to react to his movement. The horns let lose with the frustration of the few brave enough to honk at a man who may as well have eyes glowing red with rage. Even their sound was drowned out in his own muttering. Where could it be? Had he servants still the coat would never left the house with a hole in it. The buttons on the tops of the pockets would have not fallen off. That way neither way of losing anything was possible. But, in his following what he believed he had lost his servants long ago, and now he had lost something far more important.
If only he could cast a spell in the middle of this street the missing wand would be easy to find. If would have been easy to find had the street not been so crowded, calling it to him would have been no problem. But in both muggle and wizarding worlds Michelangelo had to keep a low profile. So for now the man in a trench coat walked the foggy crowded street, bumping into the unsuspecting. Searching desperately for a hint of the small object he simply had to find.
((Closed))
He crashed recklessly through the crowds of the nothings that surrounded him in the nameless street, one of many in London. Had he not gone out today, had he not decided it was a tolerable day to search for regents this would never have happened. “Perhaps across the street,” Michelangelo said to himself, “or perhaps it was not lost at all.” He paused at the thought and a flash of rage crossed the old Italian mind. Stolen? If that were the case there would be grave consequences. Whomever stole from Michelangelo Bruno would be no more on this day. And if they were a muggle all the more reason. Not that they would know what to do with it, they'd likely fall to their own curiosity.
A smirk fell across the old face as he thought such a thing. Cruel that it was the chimera core that was gone, it was far more dangerous than any of his others. He crossed the street with haste, allowing no time for vehicles to react to his movement. The horns let lose with the frustration of the few brave enough to honk at a man who may as well have eyes glowing red with rage. Even their sound was drowned out in his own muttering. Where could it be? Had he servants still the coat would never left the house with a hole in it. The buttons on the tops of the pockets would have not fallen off. That way neither way of losing anything was possible. But, in his following what he believed he had lost his servants long ago, and now he had lost something far more important.
If only he could cast a spell in the middle of this street the missing wand would be easy to find. If would have been easy to find had the street not been so crowded, calling it to him would have been no problem. But in both muggle and wizarding worlds Michelangelo had to keep a low profile. So for now the man in a trench coat walked the foggy crowded street, bumping into the unsuspecting. Searching desperately for a hint of the small object he simply had to find.
((Closed))