Stark Manor 2

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Sammael Stark

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Sammael had apparated into a storage room in his house, looking around with a small sigh. He spotted his broom and, upon grabbing it, found an old quaffle. With broom and quaffle in his arms, he disapparated to his entrance hall so that he could let Tristan in.
 
Tristan knocked on the door of Stark Manor, if a little loudly. He was on the verge of being very drunk, still cradling the bottle of vodka in his arms like a baby.
 
Sammael opened the door with a smirk. He stepped back to let Tristan in and closed the door behind him. "Right this way," he said, turning and walking through the very large house. After a bit, he reached a set of large French doors and opened them, allowing Tristan to walk through before following and closing the doors behind him.

"We just have to get past the garden," Sammael said as he turned back to Tristan. He led his cousin down a path in a large beautiful, ornate garden filled with many dark colors flowers, potions ingredients, ivy, benches, and much more. Not far past it was a clearing surrounded by talls trees on three sides, the garden behind them. On two sides of the clearing there were Quidditch hoops set up.

Sammael looked to Tristan, grinning. "Well?"
 
"Nice," Tristan said, "Almost reminds me of Drage Herrogard, except it looks just a little friendlier." He smirked. "I'm going to call the others."

He was probably going to step on some toes, but who cared? He didn't. Lifting up his shirtsleeve he placed his hand on the Dark Mark, and summoned everyone that he could possibly think of who had it. He looked around as many people apparated next to him and Sammael, looking disgruntled and wondering what he could want.
 
Lief apparated to Stark Manor, concerned that something was happening. The Death Eaters never communicated each other in such a manner unless there was a serious problem or issue to discuss.

He stared at Tristan, observing the situation, and assumed that his brother was drunk. "Please don't tell me that you called us here for something stupid," he groaned.
 
Startled by the sudden pain in his arm, Garett apparated to the place of the summoner. "You called?" he asked, a smirk on his face. The situation didn't look like a serious one to him."
 
Wondering why in the world she would be apparating to Stark Manor, Lissandra appeared on the Quidditch field, her expression worried. She raised her eyebrows, and said, "You're drunk." She turned to Sammael. "Does Morgase approve of this?"
 
Having nothing else to do, Vladmir apparated the moment he felt pain, and found himself before the growing assembly of death eaters. "Tristan, the saint, is smashed?" he sneered. "And you want to play Quidditch.. Serpentes isn't going to be too pleased."
 
Sammael did not have time to stop Tristan before he summoned the Death Eaters. He was not pleased, but had no other option but to deal with it.

Turning to Lissandra he scowled. "I am not drunk. Your boyfriend is a different story. And what does it matter if Morgase approves?"
 
(( =)) this is killing me))

"What?" Tristan inquired of all of them. "We need to have some sort of a Quidditch team."
 
Lissandra threw her arms up in the air, rolling her eyes. "You're all idiots," she spat, and inquired, "Where is Morgase? I'd rather speak with her."
 
"Did someone say my name?" Morgase said coldly as she strolled out to the field. Stopping before Sammael, she stared at him. "Forgot that I would be summoned as well? So, Tristan wants to play quidditch is it?" she inquired, looking around at the rest.
 
"You assume I summoned you, which I did not," he said coldly back to his wife, looking away from her and back to the rest of the group, wondering what was going to happen.
 
"Well, that answers my question," Lissandra said quietly, looking to Morgase and shrugging her shoulders, shaking her head. "He's drunk," she mouthed.
 
Morgase looked to Lissandra, smirking at the words she mouthed to her. "Men," she said in an irritated tone, crossing her arms over her chest.
 
Lief looked to husband and wife, who were glaring daggers at each other, and said, "Fine then, I'll go get my broom. I'll play keeper." He disapparated, hoping to avoid most of the situation.
 
"Well, Morgase, would you like to go inside, or do you wish to play?" Lissandra inquired. "I don't think I'm going to," she said quietly, putting her hand over her bulging belly.
 
Garett disapparated also, but was right back with his broom. "I have a feeling you'll need a seeker," he said, "But how exactly are we going to play this with such a little amount of people?" He held a golden snitch in his hand, letting it go and snatching it back again.
 
"I despise quidditch. Let us go inside, we can catch up." After sending a dirty look at Sammael, Morgase uncrossed her arms and led Lissandra inside.
 
Sammael looked back to the men standing around outside, noticing more had brooms now. "You will have to ask Tristan how this will work, it was his idea. So far we only have one chaser.
 
After giving Tristan and Sammael dirty looks, Vladmir spat, "Serpentes gave me better things to do with my time than play Quidditch. Now, if you excuse me, I have some killing to do. Muggles, perhaps." With that, he disapparated, leaving them with a lower number of players.
 
Arcturus was quite slow in responding, but finally showed up at Stark Manor. After observing and finding out the situation, he disapparated and returned with his firebolt, declaring, "I'll be a chaser, seeing as you only have one."
 
Goyle apparated to Stark Manor, and scowled when he found out what was going on. "I don't think it's the best idea, but what the hell? We're going to be working all over the Holidays anyways trying to keep those brats in line." He disapparated and returned just like the others, carrying a beater's bat and a bludger. He turned to Tristan. "You're the genius of the situation, how exactly are we going to play this?"
 
Since he had had to come all the way from Norway, Lief took the longest in Apparation, carrying an old broomstick with him. He had thought about asking his father to join, but decided that it probably wasn't the best idea.

"So," he said, popping up right in front of Tristan, "How do you propose that we play?"
 
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