Post by Julian Forbes on Sept 8, 2007 12:54:18 GMT -5
ooc: Any Ministry members or people that would have a reason to be at the Ministry are welcome to join this thread. Anyone else, I don't mind but I hope to see a creative reason.
Ic: The Chief Auror's Office had no lights on. The shades were closed and the only thing that could be heard was the sound of an old Victrola playing. The sounds coming off of the record were melodious and soothing, enough to make any man in a state of anger realize how unnecessary it was and drop his quarrel. The singer's voice was beyond this world, born of this Earth and yet seeming so impossibly far from it, and the few staffers that walked by were boggled as to why such music was coming from the office. Considering that music was usually a muggle treat unless it came from a magical device. Were one to peer into the office through the keyhole or use magic to catch a glimpse, they would find the usually happy Forbes in a completely different manner.
He was sprawled out in his chair, his head hanging back and staring up at the ceiling, and he looked like he hadn't moved for sometime now. Every once in awhile the record skipped and went on to the next song of the album, but the Maltan wizard could honestly care less. His hair hadn't been combed, his cheeks had grown stubble and his goatee was starting to grow a little longer than he normally allowed it. Yet while it seemed that he had every possible chance to correct these wrongs, as any good Pureblood would, he simply stayed place in his chair. Forbes also wasn't his typical Elizabethan attire today: another telltale sign that something was amiss for those that knew him. He instead wore an outfit that more befitted Hamlet than the charming Julian Forbes. However as his mood was confused and dark, it did seem likely that his choice in dress would reflect that as well.
Scattered on the man's desk were various items. His wand, a stack of papers that needed to be finished, a wineglass was laying on it's side, and an empty bottle of Amontillado was on the left corner of his desk. What was really out of place were two objects: an ornate letter opener and the letter itself. The letter opener resembled the Holy Cross, which was odd as most were made to resemble swords. The letter, written in a learned cursive, was opened and it's message was laying on the table nearby. Almost subconsciously, Julian's left hand reached for his chest and began rubbing his sternum as if something was acting up that shouldn't. For a moment his cloudy eyes cleared, but they fogged over a few seconds letter. It was essentially obvious why the dark-haired wizard was in such a state.
It was the contents of the letter.
To Julian Forbes, Son of Arturus Rossini and Ann Forbes
I am writing to you in correspondence from the royalty of the Island of Malta. We wish to convey our most sincere greetings to our lost son and we fervently wish for your return. However things are not as pleasant as we'd hope they'd be. The news we have to convey to you is depressing and we hope you will handle it well. On Thursday the 6th of September, two deaths rocked our island. The first was the death of Luciano Pavarotti, who's passing we deeply mourn. The second was that of your cousin, Modestina Rossini, the Viscountess.
The Island has split itself into two factions: one that demands your return to the throne of your fathers' and bring Malta back into greatness. And there is another that wishes to take the throne for themselves, and the rumors connected to this individuals are disturbing. Rumor has it they are getting support out of Sardinia, Corsica, and Spain. The last place is the most concern to us and thus we write this letter to you in advance. Recently the other faction took over the Senate and has declared that the person responsible for the murder of Modestina indeed has backing from Spain: they say this person is you Julian. They already have The Charybdis in route to Barcelona, with the Ulysses and Aeneas following a day behind them. These senators mean to arrest you in front of your peers, bring you back to Malta, and then kill you before the Council Chambers.
The Knights of Malta are loyal to the bloodline of Rossini, but we will not participate in the bloodshed of fellow Maltans. This is a problem you must solve on your own Julian Forbes, and only when you solve this can you claim the title of Viscount. Also as a Knight of Malta we expect you not to kill another Maltan unless they threaten death upon you first.
May God spare your soul and grant you the eternal kingdom of Heaven.
This was enough reason for Forbes to be in the current state of mind that he was. Still sprawled out in his chair, he murmured as if in a loop, "I am as constant as the Northern Star....I am as constant as the Northern Star....I am as constant as...."
Ic: The Chief Auror's Office had no lights on. The shades were closed and the only thing that could be heard was the sound of an old Victrola playing. The sounds coming off of the record were melodious and soothing, enough to make any man in a state of anger realize how unnecessary it was and drop his quarrel. The singer's voice was beyond this world, born of this Earth and yet seeming so impossibly far from it, and the few staffers that walked by were boggled as to why such music was coming from the office. Considering that music was usually a muggle treat unless it came from a magical device. Were one to peer into the office through the keyhole or use magic to catch a glimpse, they would find the usually happy Forbes in a completely different manner.
He was sprawled out in his chair, his head hanging back and staring up at the ceiling, and he looked like he hadn't moved for sometime now. Every once in awhile the record skipped and went on to the next song of the album, but the Maltan wizard could honestly care less. His hair hadn't been combed, his cheeks had grown stubble and his goatee was starting to grow a little longer than he normally allowed it. Yet while it seemed that he had every possible chance to correct these wrongs, as any good Pureblood would, he simply stayed place in his chair. Forbes also wasn't his typical Elizabethan attire today: another telltale sign that something was amiss for those that knew him. He instead wore an outfit that more befitted Hamlet than the charming Julian Forbes. However as his mood was confused and dark, it did seem likely that his choice in dress would reflect that as well.
Scattered on the man's desk were various items. His wand, a stack of papers that needed to be finished, a wineglass was laying on it's side, and an empty bottle of Amontillado was on the left corner of his desk. What was really out of place were two objects: an ornate letter opener and the letter itself. The letter opener resembled the Holy Cross, which was odd as most were made to resemble swords. The letter, written in a learned cursive, was opened and it's message was laying on the table nearby. Almost subconsciously, Julian's left hand reached for his chest and began rubbing his sternum as if something was acting up that shouldn't. For a moment his cloudy eyes cleared, but they fogged over a few seconds letter. It was essentially obvious why the dark-haired wizard was in such a state.
It was the contents of the letter.
To Julian Forbes, Son of Arturus Rossini and Ann Forbes
I am writing to you in correspondence from the royalty of the Island of Malta. We wish to convey our most sincere greetings to our lost son and we fervently wish for your return. However things are not as pleasant as we'd hope they'd be. The news we have to convey to you is depressing and we hope you will handle it well. On Thursday the 6th of September, two deaths rocked our island. The first was the death of Luciano Pavarotti, who's passing we deeply mourn. The second was that of your cousin, Modestina Rossini, the Viscountess.
The Island has split itself into two factions: one that demands your return to the throne of your fathers' and bring Malta back into greatness. And there is another that wishes to take the throne for themselves, and the rumors connected to this individuals are disturbing. Rumor has it they are getting support out of Sardinia, Corsica, and Spain. The last place is the most concern to us and thus we write this letter to you in advance. Recently the other faction took over the Senate and has declared that the person responsible for the murder of Modestina indeed has backing from Spain: they say this person is you Julian. They already have The Charybdis in route to Barcelona, with the Ulysses and Aeneas following a day behind them. These senators mean to arrest you in front of your peers, bring you back to Malta, and then kill you before the Council Chambers.
The Knights of Malta are loyal to the bloodline of Rossini, but we will not participate in the bloodshed of fellow Maltans. This is a problem you must solve on your own Julian Forbes, and only when you solve this can you claim the title of Viscount. Also as a Knight of Malta we expect you not to kill another Maltan unless they threaten death upon you first.
May God spare your soul and grant you the eternal kingdom of Heaven.
This was enough reason for Forbes to be in the current state of mind that he was. Still sprawled out in his chair, he murmured as if in a loop, "I am as constant as the Northern Star....I am as constant as the Northern Star....I am as constant as...."