Pale Man // Tiernach

The guests were still arriving and the ceremony wasn't for several hours, leaving Tiernach free to poke around the Mortelle estate. He had never, in all his life, been somewhere so grand. It was a little hard to believe this was one family's – for that matter wasn't it just one person's – home. Such opulence would have been beyond belief, if he had not been here prodding the silver candelabras and scratching at the wallpaper to make sure it was all real. Hogwarts had been quite the shock to him, too, at first. The Raghnall's were a large, proud family; but they were as working-class as could be. Before Hogwarts, Tier had never even seen real silver tableware. Somewhere in his flat, he still had one of the spoons he'd pocketed in his first year, before they'd caught him stealing. Such petty theft had been beneath him for a long time, of course. The appeal had faded as he became accustomed to the finery of that old castle. This manor, however, put the school to shame. Every nook and cranny into which he pried was as flawless as the last. He wanted to hate it; to feel outraged by this display of affluence, but the truth was, he was enjoying himself. It was like being at a zoo – a brief tour through the natural habitat of Wizardous Inbredi.

He was looping back toward the center of things, having explored enough for the time being, when a shapely woman in a blue dress caught his eye. She was standing before a window, and the sun hit her in just such a way as to accentuate her curvaceous form. He had barely a moment to admire the way the light wrapped around her, before she shut it out by closing the drapes. He started to walk after her, not specifically for her benefit, but because that was the way he had been heading before. Abruptly, she turned. Tier was already stepping forward, and they nearly crashed together, when suddenly she was a step back from him. His eyes went wide then immediately narrowed to slits. She addressed him by name. "Do I know you?" he asked, tone accusatory.

He remembered he had to be on good behavior here. He couldn't spoil Raven's wedding by being his usual paranoid, asshole self. His posture changed from something vulturine to casual nonchalance, though a wolfish grin did plant itself on his lips. "That's alright, love. Didn't mean to startle a beautiful creature like yourself. Maybe you know my name because you're some kind of seer. Been seeing my face in your dreams?" There was a pause. As he looked at her, something clicked in the back of his mind. She did look familiar, and now that he thought about it, he knew just who she was. He also knew that it was not wise for someone like him to keep Avona Giovanni's company, not when he flouted laws and sought to upturn the status quo. Then again, foolish or not, he wasn't one to be daunted. He liked to test and harass authority figures. The grin on his face twisted further, and his eyes ran down the length of her body. "I do know you. Something, Giomatti, wasn't it? Head Auror? The pictures I've seen don't do you justice."

"Giovanni, that was it," he said in feigned enlightenment, although his expression of mirth probably gave him away. He continued in exaggerated, mock-offended tones, "But you wound me, Miss Giovanni. Me, cocksure? A flatterer I may be, but sure of a cock... well, I hardly think that's an appropriate conversation for such a fancy to-do. I'll have you know this is my dear friend's wedding, and not the time for suggestive personal remarks."

He kept grinning, rather proud of himself for the way this conversation was going. For the moment at least, she seemed willing to put up with him, so he could not resist testing his luck. Tiernach had never known to quit while he was ahead. There was a driving force inside of him that made him push everything to the breaking point – people, propriety, situations. It was a good thing he wasn't a gambling man (at least with money), or he would have ended up broke. No, the games he played were for very different stakes than hard currency. It was about power, about blood, and sometimes just for the sake of the game itself. That was the case right now. Tier had little to gain from toying with Avona, but he had a lot to lose, which was what made it exciting. She was dangerous for someone like him, and that was the fun of it – a high profile opponent who could outplay him in every instance except information. Oh, no doubt she was better informed of most things than he was; and clearly she knew him by sight and name; but what she thought that she knew about him had holes that not even the Head Auror could predict. It was a bit like a game of whack-a-mole.

As he observed her, Tiernach had to admit to himself that he wasn't talking to her exclusively for the entertainment value. She was also strikingly beautiful – for a Pureblood, particularly. Then again, her lack of a weak chin, horse teeth, or any other obvious signs of inbreeding made him wonder if he was mistaken. Perhaps she was a Half-Blood? He made a mental note to check up on her later; this was not the time to ask, and maybe he would be better off not knowing. Doubt allowed him a window through which to admire her beauty. She did have the smoothest, creamiest skin he'd ever seen. He caught himself staring a little too fixedly. He made a point to follow her gaze onto a painting... of her. It had to be; the resemblance was too exact for the woman in the portrait to be anyone else. The smallest hint of a frown erased the leer from his face. "Oh, is it Mrs Giovanni, then? I guess that's you and your husband up there... Odd to be hanging up on someone else's wall, but it's a real pity to learn someone as exquisite as yourself is spoken for. You do have such lovely skin... may I ask your secret? You bathe in the blood of virgins under the full moon, perhaps?" His dark sense of humor returned full-force, although he guessed far nearer the mark than he realized.

"Anyway, I don't see what all the fuss is about to put you so on edge. It's only half the wizarding world's going to show up. A few hundred drunken witches and wizards couldn't possibly go wrong," he added, tone dripping with sarcasm. "I guess that's why Raven's got someone as important as you on the case. Hah. Leave it to her to insist on nothing but the best. Head Auror running security and the most talented writer at the Prophet to sell the story. It's all well done, don't you agree?" He produced a flask from within his breast pocket. He swiveled open the top, took a healthy swig, then offered it out, "Care for a nip?"