(1937-10-06) A Faustian Covenant
Details for A Faustian Covenant
Summary: Magnus meets up with the elder Montague, nominally at the behest of a friend…
Date: October 6, 1937
Location: {$location}
Related: Customers Welcome, Making Arrangements

Guest Character: Piero Montague

An owl, about as black as Wolfgang's owl is white comes by the Watershed and drops a letter.

Mr. Troy,
Told that you wish to meet. Hold the coin within at Midnight on Friday.

The coin within the letter is an ancient Lira. The letter, in a flash evaporates leaves no trace behind. If Magnus is indeed holding the Lira at Midnight on Friday as instructed he'll get that wonderful gut knotting experience of being ported to a location that is very non descript. There is no sound, there is no light. But whomever set this up had the courtesy to arrange for a rather comfortable springy chair to catch Magnus when he 'fell' into the new location.

He is left there for several long minutes alone. The cautious arranger of this meeting obviously making sure it's just Magnus that came. Then from the darkness comes a voice, a man's voice though it is strange and rattled unnaturally like a spell was put on his throat to disguise his voice. "You have that list of names?"

Magnus does, indeed, do as instructed by the letter; not only would he consider it foolish if he did not, he's totally committed to doing so at this point. His teeth set in a grimace as he feels the unpleasant pull of the port-key rip him through space, and then, as he acclimates to his new setting, he exhales with a slight sense of relief. It's always good to know you haven't been pulled somewhere /too/… unsettling. Although the darkness causes his voice to take on a slight rasp of discomfort, Magnus nods (to nobody, seemingly) and clears his throat. "Yes. I have it in the pocket of my jacket."

The disembodied voice comes from everywhere in the room it seems making it difficult for Magnus to pinpoint where exactly he should be facing. "Remove it and your wand. There is a hole in the chair. Place your wand in the hole. Your list on the platter to your left." Sure enough on his left there is a simple silver serving platter. The engraving on the platter is one of a snake skeleton that is in the shape of a figure eight with it's tail in it's open fanged skeletal mouth.

Slowly, Magnus does as he's instructed. He's used to following unusual protocols for his less-than-public appearances, but this is certainly something new. His wand is removed from the holster at his belt, and after finding the hole, he slips it in and, after a second's hesitation, releases it. The note is removed from the inside pocket of his jacket, and after fumbling around with his left hand, he finds the platter and sets it down. "I'd like to thank you for going to the trouble of meeting with me," he says, his voice clear and ringing, as usual, but with just a slight undertone of edginess. Not surprising, considering the situation. "I know your time is valuable."

There is a little almost vacuum sucking sound when the wand is slid into the hole. If it's gone for he'll find it rather well stuck. "It is. So I suggest we move along past the pleasantries. I warn, I don't take well to rouses and half truths. What is it that you want exactly, and why?"

Magnus clears his throat again, and leans back in the seat. "The six men whose names are on that paper are criminals," he states, his voice calm and business-like. His hands grip the arms of the chair, and he goes on: "I need them delivered to a safehouse in London for the benefit of a French friend on the continent. They have offended him, and while the Muggle justice system will see to their permanent imprisonment, he wants more visceral punishment to be enacted upon them."

In the darkness there is some sort of movement. "This can be arranged. One change. The meeting doesn't happen on my soil. These convicts will be transported to a secured location of British soil. The when this Frenchman has had his fill, they will be returned to the place of their incarceration." Who knew, the mafioso has some pride in country.

"That sounds perfect," Magnus says, his voice slow and measured. In fact, by the sound of things, this is exactly what he's been hoping for - perhaps he'd heard rumors of Montague's disposition towards his country. He grips nervously on the arms of his chair again and smiles, although he can't actually see anything in the darkness ahead. "Should you ever require any favors from someone in my position, you know I'll be more than happy to oblige." This, of course, is in addition to the monetary offer he's made to the powerful mafioso.

The silver platter floats back onto the arm of the chair and there is another coin on it, this time a franc. "Arrange for your Frenchman to get that. It will take him to the right location at the right time. You will receive a message when that time is. Do you know how to Apparate Mr. Troy?"

"Of course, of course," Magnus says slowly. He eyes the coin that's delivered to him in the low light, and takes out the envelope that had been holding the first; rather than touching it directly, he uses it to scoop up the new coin so that his flesh never comes into contact with it. "Thank you again for your time. I'll be waiting to hear from you." While he isn't exactly used to dealing with mafiosos of this caliber, the ambassador has enough experience with underworld business to know he shouldn't be wasting time.

Ironically after that there is no further indication that Magnus isn't completely alone besides a solitary soft *crack*. In fact if he gets up he'll find that the room he is in is seemless grey stone box. There are no doors, no windows, no sound just the inside of a cube. The hole will release his wand directly after the other person apparates away.

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