Elvira shuddered and closed her eyes, oh the things the old man made her want to do; naughty little things that she had to rethink of where they stood to not attempt it. Not because anyone would see them, but because the Muggles disgusted her. Elvira gently wrapped her arms around his arm that was over her shoulder, holding the dead old man. She rubbed her cheek against him with a hum as she closed her eyes—she could still see the blue of the old man. Mmm~, it was tasty, feeling people’s emotions. “Did you see it?” Elvira asked, still lying against his arm. “Isn’t it amazing?”<br/><br/>Alvira looked into the oldman’s eyes, over his sister’s head; he saw, and yes, it was pleasant. He never took the time to study his kills when he did, not like his sister had. Alvira guess he could enjoy fun like this every once in a while, but he was sure after tonight he would just be killing, nothing more, nothing less—all of them would have to die, and he didn’t care how. Elvira began to kiss her brother’s arm, and he dropped the old man, the red lipstick long since dried and smudged against her lips—not that messy, actually, just stained slightly red like she tried to wipe it off after freshly applying; or maybe like she was cold, and her mouth was turning a frost bitten pink—only a bit was seen on part of her cheek and the corner of her mouth; though it looked like she was eating him, as her mouth lingered against his forearm, eyes closed in bliss like a woman enjoying her chocolate.<br/><br/>“Green.” Elvira mumbled against his robes; Alvira knew what she meant, but he couldn’t help look at the top of her head quizzically. Alvira bent his arm once she kissed between his elbow, and he wrapped it around her head. Elvira went limp in the ‘embrace’, and he dragged his fingers through her hair slightly, over her ear and the side of her head, and then down to rest above her shoulder. His arm was around her neck as if he was going to snap it, but he gently held it there; a half hug. “Get me green eyes.” Elvira opened her brown ones, and raised her hands to rest on his arm.<br/><br/>“Fine.” Alvira released her, turning to look over at the two women in the distance, and walked off as stiff and slouched as ever—almost in a pout. Alvira knew they were there, he saw them come up while he strangled the old man. Maybe he was nervous, why he was looking around in the first place, but he should always know who was watching, or, at least, try to. They were nobodies, just trainees having a bit of fun. Yes, they were nobodies because he didn’t care for anybody, but it, too, was also because they were unmarked. He wasn’t some status loving groupie, trying to be the most important to the Dark Lord; he just respected his Lord’s branding, and apparently the Dark Lord didn’t brand uselessness.<br/><br/>Alvira saw someone with green eyes, where was he? Going down a street, he spotted a house; he kicked the door open—a little too easily—and pillaged the house. It wasn’t until he reached the kitchen, was when he saw why everything was so messy, it was two dead men, laying across the ground, staring at him with glossy eyes; one brown, the other a dark green. Damn, he killed them already; Alvira scratched his head and growled.<br/><br/>Elvira wasn’t so gifted, she was not as jittery as her brother; maybe she was cursed with a never threatened life, but she didn’t watch her surroundings, not one as decaying and ruined as this. Oh, she just yawned; she was tired. Waking up at six every morning would do that to a person. Elvira stretched pretty cat like, and twisted her torso almost in a dance; that’s when she saw them. The two women who seemed to have been watching her; if she was careless like her brother, she would have mistaken them for Muggle—no, they looked too calm to be inhabitants of this town. Were they this Night Consumers her brother was a part of? Well, she might as well find out with an introduction. Elvira’s heels tapped over to them, seeing them in conversation; she hope she wasn’t interrupting… no, actually, she did.<br/><br/>“Hello,” Oops, her brother told her not to talk to anyone, should she listen? Maybe he was just being catty, but he wasn’t here now, so his rules didn’t count now, “allow me to introduce myself, I am Elvira Hertz.” No accent present whatsoever, though every word was pronounced with the purest of precision; as if it was beaten into her harshly, and it was. She placed her hands on her hips, but not in anger, or superiority, just a pose, as she pushed her pelvis forward and to the side, one leg straight, the supporter, the other knee bent inward (to make her hips look curvy large), pointed toe shoes pointed inward cutely. Elvira smiled with mischief glinting in her eyes, “Tell me you two are having as much fun as I am.” She talked as if this was a party, as if the three of them were in a lounge right now, searching for conversations from other socialites.