A More Personal Assignment-closed

"Well said, Freya," Tristan laughed, taking a drag from his cigar and smirking at Vlad. "Treachery? Nah, I wouldn't think of it that way." He flicked his cigar a bit, his blue eyes glittering. "I think of this as a little chat between old friends."
 
"Friends?" Vladmir spat. "I never have considered you as a friend, Tristan. You're a blood traitor and you ruddy well know it. I could care less what your father has to say."

His eyes looking no more with lust upon Freya, he demanded of her, "And just who the hell are you?"
 
Freya bent over and stared straight into his eyes as she answered his question. "Oh yes, you may not remember me, you didn't stick around to introduce yourself after you brutally murdered my husband. Now I have a question for you, do you even remember killing a man 10 years ago on a snowy street in Bryne, for no apparent reason?" And with that she slapped Vladmir across the face. She had to admit, that felt very good.
 
Vladmir laughed insanely as his head snapped back from the force of the blow, his teeth yellowing as he grinned at her. "I should have guessed- Folkvang, was it? I enjoyed ripping the pathetic life from his dirt blood body." His eyes exhibited nothing but cruelty as he stared back at her, the silence in teh rest of the room unnerving him. "It was just one of those I've taken much pride in over the years- Hope you didn't grieve yourself over it too much, love."
 
Freya spit directly in Vladmir's face. The anger in her was welling up inside and she clenched her fist almost ready to strike him again. But she needed to know exactly why he took Tyr's life. "Why did you kill him?" she said with clenched teeth. "What had he ever done to you?" she spoke each syllable with with anger.
 
Tristan grinned maliciously as he twirled his cigar around in his fingers, the gray smoke furling through his fingertips. He waited to see what else Freya would do and what Vlad had to say, nothing but a cold cruelty present in his eyes.
 
Josh adjusted himself in his chair. He did not want to interupt the conversation, but decided to start twirling his wand around his fingers while he listened. He wondered about this woman, not realy knowing who she was. He could believe that this monster killed her husband like that. Vlad was nothing more than a piece of crud on the bottom of his shoe and it was good they were finally taking care of him.
 
Vladmir cackled as a giant smirk slipped onto his face. "He wasn't pureblood- What reason not to kill?" he replied, a malicious grin dominating his expression. "Just like every other person I killed- They deserve to die. All of them. I did it for the enjoyment, you might say."
 
Freya shook her head. "You are truly pathetic. And you are right, there are some that deserve to die, and I'll be more then happy to sit here and watch your death. I only hope that from drinking that butterbeer you die in excruciating pain." Freya sat down at last in her seat opposite Vladmir and a look spread across her face that would remind someone of a mother scolding a child. "My husband was a great man and a great father, and you took his life over something stupid. For that you will die. And I will watch you and I will smile and I'll finally know what real peace is." And with that Freya sat back, with her arms folded across her chest and waited.
 
Tristan smirked at Vladmir, glad that the man could know that he had of course betrayed him. Finally, he would be able to get past the death of his wife, and be able to continue in his new life with Morgase and Erik. With a swift motion, he moved over to the other side of the table, pressing his cigar to Vladmir's forehead. "And now I have my own questions- What was your reason for killing Lorelei and trying to kill my daughter?" His ice blue eyes hardened, all amusement having escaped them.
 
Vladmir sneered back at Freya, despite the fear in his eyes that his butterbeer had been poisoned. He spit at Heimdall, aiming for her face, and then he added, "I hope he's roasting in hell right now. I'll say hi to him for you, love, when I get there."

He cackled as Drage moved over to him, but was not expecting the excruciating pain as the cigar sizzled through the skin on his forehead. He could not surpress a scream, and he shrieked, "Everyone thought- Everyone, mind you, that they both should die if you were going to be in the group. I thought you should be killed too, but I settled with something less and took pleasure in killing your wife. It was really too bad I couldn't get that filth blood daughter of yours, though."

Vladmir shrieked in not quite so sane laughter as he looked up at Tristan, attempting to ignore the pain that was worming its way into his stomach with the blatant pain on his forehead. "You're a sad excuse for a Death Eater, Drage."
 
Tristan's ice blue eyes hardened as he observed the pathetic Vladmir, looking up to Freya. "How long is this supposed to take? He's not dying as painfully as I would like." Stepping back, as if seeming to be thinking about the situation, he lit up the cigar again, this time pressing the cigar to the soft tissue of Vladmir's collarbone, smirking down at the man. "Oh, really? I would rather not consider that an insult, as it is coming from a man in a much more pathetic situation."

The comments about Estrella and Lorelei pushed aside, Tristan assessed that he was keeping much more sane about the situation than he could have.
 
Freya watched Tristan take out his anger on the man who seemed to make a habit of killing people's loved ones. "I wish I knew. I haven't used this one before, it is taking longer then I would have expected and I was hoping for a lot more pain." Freya reached under her skirt and extracted a knife from a sling on her thigh. "We could make it more painful for him." she said slamming the point of the knife into the wooden table.
 
Vladmir shrieked rather animalistically as the cigar once again burned into his flesh, this time in a more sensitive area. "So what- Are you letting this woman get a taste of what you consider being a Death Eater? Sabotaging those that are in the very circle you claim to belong to? You are a fake, Drage."

His dark eyes darted to the knife that the woman had wedged into the table, wondering just how sadistic she could really be. He had entirely forgotten about Hanson, who surprisingly had not said anything. "You here to watch, Hanson?" he cackled, his dark eyes falling on the man. "Your pathetic buddy got you into this? Of course, I couldn't have expected more out of a Ravenclaw-" he sneered. "No- Both of you are rather pathetic excuses for being called Death Eaters. Torturing a squib, Hanson? What was that raeally. I thought you had more in you."
 
Josh stayed still, assessing Vlad as he would a piece of garbage. "Well, you are so much more intelligent aren't you?" he sneered, "You were in Azkaban right along with me. Weren't you? At least I had the chance of actually getting out." He sat forward in his chair, leaning closer to the creatin he so desired to watch die. "At least I don't manage to piss off the powers that be with disrespect towards those of high importance to them." He then mockingly sniffed the air. "And I actually manage to cleanse myself daily. Dumbass have you ever heard of soap?" He knew it was childish, but it felt good to get digs in any way he was able to.
 
Freya was getting annoyed and frustrated. "This is bullsh#t!" she growled dislodging the knife from the table. She jumped to her feet and stood beside the captive again and pressed the tip of the knife into his cheek. A small slice began to trickle blood mixed with the dirt on his face as it slid down toward his chin. "Answer Tristan's question you piece of trash or we'll keep you alive just for fun."

Freya had turned a point in her life right then and there. She had the man who had killed her husband and he was going to die. So she should have been happy with that. But sitting with these men and torturing this death eater was...actually...thrilling. Freya was enjoying herself too much and if she wanted to stay on the side of good this needed to end soon before she as lost forever.
 
Vladmir glared daggers at Josh, wishing he could escape his bindings and strangle the man for his insult. He would have no problem slaughtering the lot of them, blood traitors and liars. He turned to Freya in disbelief. "I did answer Drage's question- I didn't have much of a choice, did I, you b1tch?" He was now able to ignore the pain, muttering, "You're all a bunch of blood traitors."


He suddenly convulsed a bit, the pain in his gut becoming more prominent and worming into his veins, his eyes darting around in obvious worry.
 
Tristan put out the cigar on Vladmir's cheek, chucking it to the ground as his eyes moved to Freya. She seemed to be enjoying this entirely too much, for being on the so called good side. Assessing her for a moment, he chuckled rauciously at Josh's comment about Vladmir's hygiene, wrinkling his nose in distaste. "Well said, bud," he laughed, observing Vladmir in glee as the man seemed to convulse, a look of mingled pain and worry present on his face.

Getting down on his knees, he whispered into Vladmir's ear wickedly, "I'm almost glad you killed her, quickly, at least- Because I get to watch you die slowly."
 
Freya took the dagger and touched the bloody tip of it with her fingers. Smearing the blood between her index finger and thumb she stared at it for a moment. It was so easy to be bad. Too easy. "Your answer was fague and pathetic." She exclaimed. She wiped her fingers and the knife on Vlad's coat and slipped it back into the holster on her leg. Seeing the man begin to feel the pain of the poison she smiled. "Ohhh, it looks like the poison is working...This should be good." And she sat down again. She only hoped it would be quick. She needed a drink and a long hot shower to wash the hate and evil out of her system.
 
"My answer," Vladmir gasped, sneering, "Was all you deserved."

His vision was beginning to blur as he spat in her direction, his surroundings becoming melted in his line of sight. He shuddered as the poision seeped into his veins, giving Tristan a scathing glare.

He waited for it to end, wondering if this was all just a joke.
 
Vladmir's attempt at spitting fell far short of it's mark. Freya began to laugh, "Your aim Vladmir is a bit off. Are you feeling okay? Can I get you something?" Freya said with mocked concern.
 
Tristan smirked at Vladmir, stepping away from him. He was enjoying this immensely, although something nagged at the back of his mind.

He did not feel that this would be the end of exterminating all trace of his relationship with Lorelei. The only thing that would remain, at the end, would of course be her grave, and Estrella. He knew ultimately that there was one last thing he needed to do.

He started to hum to himself a lullaby that he had heard Lorelei hum to Estrella once or twice when she was young. It was something called, he couldn't remember, was it Silent something? Silent Lucidity? That might have been it. He did not really care.
 
Vladmir declined to reply, convulsing painfully as his eyes rolled back into his head. He was inclined to ignore the remarks of the woman, irritated immensely by Tristan's infernal humming.

He tried to speak, but it felt as if his tongue were rubbed over by sandpaper. His insides were squirming and wrenching uncomfortably, grimacing as he was taking over by excruciating pain.

His head lolled to the side as his lips moved uncontrollably, forming words that he could not speak. His hatred was the only thing that could keep him away from the pain, and the lights starting to go out. He was breathing heavily now, wanting only a drink of water.
 
Tristan smirked as he watched all the pain that Vladmir had to go through, paying him back tenfold for all the pain he had in turn put Tristan through. A glint of insanity became prominent in his ice blue eyes as he stared down at the man, cocking his head to the side as he sang softly, "Hush now don't you cry; wipe away that teardrop from your eye." He sang no more, however, glad that his singing voice was not all that bad. It would have ruined the irony of it, considering the situation. He stepped back a bit, eager to get out of this place.
 
Freya watched as the man suffered and let Tristan take over. She was done now and her husband was vindicated. Her only concern now was what to do with the body when he was finally dead.

"Gentleman, once our esteemed friend here is no longer with us, what will become of him?" She knew it a little morbid to be talking while the man was still alive and suffering but she was growing tired and just wanted the whole thing to be over.
 
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