Wasted Warrington Warehouse

In it's prime, the Warrington Warehouse stood proud.

Well maintanced, well cleaned, well used...

However, once Sir Warrington died, the Warrington Warehouse seemed to have died along him.

Now it is a wasted warehouse. Metal bars, broken, twist about the area. Shattered glass shards litter the floor. The walls are weak and cracking, the floors - well they aren’t better off.

In the middle of this wasteland, sat Nicolas Casillas on a rather broken-down chair. He wasn't sitting there by choice. Indeed, his hands were bound behind his back, eyes blind folded and he was gagged.

He was pretty sure that his wand wasn't with him either.

Amara entered form the shadows using her wand she ungagged Nick.

"Welcome Mr. Casillas, so glad you could join us on this lovely evening' she said in mock flirty voice.

Finding that he was ungagged, yet still blind folded Nicolas replied. "Indeed, now if only I came here by choice..."

Amara laughed though it was mirthless, "Dear if you were here by choice you would be one of us. However that is not possible... Pureblood. Now all I want is information. If you give it to me I will let you go unharmed" she said.

Nicolas pouted, "Aww, and here I thought you abducted me because you thought I was pretty and now plan to have your way with me."

"In case you are though, I don't plan on stopping you." He teased.

Amara raised an eyebrow and leaned in, there noses almost touching. "Perhaps" she whispered.

Then she pulled away and moved in behind Nick placing her arms casually on his shoulders.

"if you could say where the Remnant is..? she asked.

Nicolas knew that was the reason. He had foreseen this. Which is why he told Darius, Eliza and Will not to tell him specifically where they were. He wouldn't tell her, even if she forced it out of him, he couldn't because he honestly didn't know.

"The Remnant?" Nicolas said mocking an innocent tone. "I have no idea what that is yet alone where it is."

"Though, I can show you where my bedroom is." He smirked.

Amara sighed "Very naughtly Mr Casillas" with at said she wacked him on the side of the head. Dispite the hard hit on the head she kissed him on the cheek.

"What kinda woman do you think I am..." she asked.

Nicolas felt the sharp impact of the slap, and the soft kiss on the cheek. He rolled his head back and laughed. "You know, this rather exciting. I like it rough and I think you just might be the woman who can give me all the roughness I need."

Amara looked at him in what could only be closest to amusment as she could. She wacked in the head, hard this time, hey of he like being smacked who was she to argue.

"Silly man, I know your son, Darius is it? is apart of the Remnant, I know you know what it is... however perhaps I underestemated you, you don't know where it is do you?" she said as she ran her hand down his cheek.

"Perhaps I will keep you here surely one of your dear kiddies will come out looking for you when they find out you are missing."

Saman nervously lit his pipe. He and two other purgers stood more or less patiently waiting for Amara to return with either information or news of a certain life's ending...

He had always thought that a lady's touch assisted in matters such as this, but was nervous despite this fact. After all, Darcy had been kept behind by the Emperor after he had been booted from the throne room...

He laughed yet again when he was smack.

However, Nicolas noticably stiffened at the moment Darius' name was mentioned. But he tried to shrug it off, keeping his humour.

"You know," Nicolas paused, rolling his head. "I've always wondered why folks like you want to get kids. Wassa matter? Run out of real targets? Of course, considering your killing spree I'm really not surprised."

Amara smirked when she noticed Nick stiffen at the mention of his son. She had hit a nerve.

"Perfect"

I his comment was suppoed to bug her it didn't she simply did her duty and that was that.

"Yes we have been rather sucessful, and we only need to get afew kids and the killing will end" she said. She let out a small slightly disturbing laugh.

"Wow," Nicolas said somewhat genuinely. "Wow." He repeated. "You're like a mindless zombie."

He clicked his tongue. "Shame really, I don't think it's going to work out, you and me. I only sleep with girls with at least half a brain. And well... clearly you've got 10% at most."

Amara shrugged " stick and stones dearie, I am glad you finally realize it would never work between us" she said unfazed by his insult.

"Need I remind you it is you who have made deals with us mindless zombies" she said pintching his cheek.

Nicolas chuckled. "Business transactions are different from relationships, babe."

"Though, if you beg, I might reconsider."

Amara scoffed, "Me beg you? I am not the one tied to chair and blind folded. Thank you very much"

Grabing a handful of his hair she pulled back, "You will not leave this place until you die or until the Remnant is found" she hissed in his ear.

Nicolas grimanced as his hair was unkindly pulled. At the comment he looked at her seriously for the first time since his captivity and said in true Gryffindoric-like manner, "Kill me then, because you'll never find the Remnant."

Amara smirked " Die a marttra eh? I would say that is brave of you, if it would work, as we speak I am sending word of your capture impending death. Imagine how the kiddies will react when they reviecve the news...." she said as she let go of his hair and hit him again.

"Besa mi culo, puta!" Nicolas said viciously.



(Basically kiss my *ss, b****)

Saman had always prided himself with being a patient man... but this day had become a nightmare, his life constantly flashing before his grey eyes... thus he could hardly be blamed for signaling to one his fellow purgers to remain outside, while nodding to Haruka to follow after him and then entering the warehouse. She was one of the most capable purgers he had ever worked with and he thought it would be wise to have someone there to warn him say if Amara dared attempt to take his place as Captain.

He remained indifferent as he crossed to stand a good meter behind Amara Darcy.
Saman was a large man, with high cheekbones and a piercing grey eyes. His hair hid his forehead and hung down to frame his face like a shroud of sorts.
Many terrified pairs of eyes had sought mercy from him...none had ever received it...

Haruka had been kneeling, keeping remarkably still as she meditated with half-open eyes in the semi-silence around her. Meditation and mental fortification in general always preceded a kill in her "ritual" of going about things, even if she wasn't necessarily doing the deed herself.

Her Great-Grandfather's katana and Great-Grandmother's dagger were on either side of her, ready and waiting for some sort of battle to ensue. Around her neck was a strangely shaped musical instrument, an ocarina, strung onto a leather cord. And, within a concealed area amidst her plum-colored robes, was her wand. Sometimes magic just suited a target's demise better. Onyx hair was tied back into a bun of sorts, with several wisps of the silky yet wiry hair cascading down and around her neck and face.

Upon hearing movement, Haruka snapped out of her meditative state and quickly regained her bearings when Saman gestured for the other purger to stay behind, and beckoned her forward. In one fluid motion she both bowed in acquiescence and stood from her position, smoothing out the creases of her robes. Silent as the wind, she followed after giving the remaining purger a look that said they'd best be a competent guard/lookout while she and Saman went in. Not that she thought the captive would escape, but one never knew how these things would go.

Haruka crossed the room, taking a different route than Saman by walking around the blindfolded wizard before them. As she went the witch trailed a few long-nailed fingers across the back of Nick's shoulders, knowing good and well her hands had a tendency to be cold - cold enough to be felt straight through cloth. There wasn't a single shred of emotion on her face to indicate what she was feeling, because there was nothing to reveal. No particular reason caused her to touch him, other than perhaps to startle considering he was still blindfolded. But not even the desire to scare or unnerve showed up on the beautiful almond-eyed face. If anything, perhaps a slight melancholy crossed the features, but that was normal. Haruka knew what must be done, and would do it or see it done depending on the occasion, but she still carried a glimmer of respect for the victims claimed.

Why else had she played a song for the unfortunate soul moments after death took them?

Like Saman, Haruka remained silent. There was nothing to say as far as she was concerned. Whatever information Amara might have gleaned would either be shared or reported to the Emperor in due time. A vague thought that the wizard should at least see his impending killers crossed her mind, but was dismissed just as quickly. She didn't reveal her identity to her victims very often, preferring a swift and silent method as opposed to a duel to the death in most cases.

Amara blinked and smirked not needing to know what her victim said in english, it was clear in his voice what he meant.

She then waved her wand, her favorite spell, it mimiced the effects of a dememtor but only to the person her directed it and the Patronus charm useless against it.

"Try this on for size Mr. Casillas" she said.

Nicolas heard two sets of footsteps enter. At the pace that they were going he figured it wasn't his rescue. Now that he thought about it, he didn't think he wanted one. The only people who would rescue him were the people he loved and well, he'd rather die than to put them in any sort of harm. . . and the way things were going, it seemed like he was going to kick the bucket a lot sooner than he'd hoped.

His ears prickled as he felt one of the new comers round about him and shivered as a cold hand touched the fabric of his clothes. Boy, this day just got better and better.

And better still... soon he felt was he could only describe as the Dementor's touch. He didn't feel the cold, dampness that seemed to be in the atmosphere when there was a real Dementor however, his worst memories started to bombard his system.

Seeing Persephone tortured... Hearing that Armando and Calista were dead... Seeing Amy dead... His Conquistadors being killed as if they were bugs... Diana dying...

He didn't even realize, he was screaming...