April 20th, 2098

18:20:21 Cyrus`Valen “Mr. Valen,” No one would give him the respect of addressing him as Professor any longer, given his resignation, but more importantly, the atrocities he’d committed over the past week or so, “You, of course, realize that the charges against you are quite serious, and given your prior conviction and incarceration in Azkaban, you are subject to extreme punishment.” He was being seated in front of the Wizengamot, and where most would be distressed…he was simply calm. Not smiling, but still gave off the aura of a man who still held all the cards despite his current position, “Harassment, assault, misuse of magic, kidnapping…judging by the Boulstridge girl’s condition, torture, and that…thing growing on you,” They were referencing the arm, “Horrible and gross use of dark and forbidden magics…and of course, we have witnesses that testify you used the Cruciatus curse. There’s also the damages left behind by you misdeeds, but we’re sure you’re well aware of that. Once you are convicted, and make no doubt, you WILL be convicted, you will likely return to Azkaban until you leave this world. Do you understand? The former Potions Master nodded, still ever the cool player, “I understand that. And that I will not be shown any mercy…and, well, given the number of witnesses to my crimes, and my own claims to the Auror, Porthman, that there isn’t a chance in hell of being exonerated. I want to make a deal,” He rested his palms on his knees, “We do not make deals, Vale—” he raised a hand to cut them off, “Not for my freedom. I will waive my right to a trial in exchange for three small requests. This saves the headache and length of actual proceedings for you, and allows me to accept my fate faster.” The council paused, speaking briefly amongst themselves before returning to him, “We make no guarantee. What are your requests?” A broad smile swept the Irishman’s face, “The first…as I assume you’ve already found, I had a locket anda flask on my person when I was apprehended. I want the locket, and a letter addressed to a former student of mine, Huian Li, that you will find in my things at the room I rented in Diagon Alley, sent to the Miss Li in question. You’ve already tested the locket, no doubt, and see that it is only that…a locket.” They nodded for him to continue, “The second, I want my flask delivered now, to me.” A slight titter, “Simply a doomed man who wants his final drink,” He explained, “And the third…send my apologies, and sufficient funding from my assets that you have undoubtedly seized to the owner of Thoughts and Remembrances, for the shop I managed to destroy during my shenanigans. That is all.” The council convened again before nodding their approval, “We accept your terms, Mr. Valen. You will be placed in a holding cell until those acts are complete…and then we will expect an officially signed and sealed waiver. If not, we assure you, your imprisonment will be the worst imaginable". He nodded and smiled, raising his hands to be restrained again…and carted off to a very small, unpleasant room covered with more wards and spells than even Hogwarts, and a team of HIT Wizards guarding it.

18:33:21 Cyrus`Valen It took the better part of the day for him to receive the flask, as well as notification an owl had been sent to Huian. The letter told her that the locket had belonged to Charlie, detailing his feelings for him, and what he’d try to ask her at the Leaky Cauldron. To give it to the girl in question, leave it at her grave, and send the slain student his apologies for what he had become, for surely disappointing her and becoming something that was NOT the man that she knew. And a receipt of sorts for the funds sent to the flower shop. And then, finally…what he’d been waiting for, his flask. Rather than touch or hand him the flask directly (most seemed to recoil in disgust from both him, and the monstrous arm that had sprouted upon him), it was pushed through a slot in his door. Still wary of some act or another, the wizards guarding him were ready, wands drawn. Raised the blackened arm for a jaunty waggle of his fingers, he seized the flask with the other and tipped it back, gulping…gulping, nearly choking on its contents before dropping it. The wizards noticeably relaxed when nothing exploded, transformed, or general mayhem erupted. He retook his seat on the small cot that’d been provided for his temporary stay…and just as quickly fell from it, body convulsing, writhing, foam spewing from his lips as he began to have some sort of fit. Soon, the foam began tinted pink with a small amount of blood, and before the wizards could react…he was dead, body lifeless and still, though the monstrous arm continued twitching violently for several seconds. Wands still at the ready, they waited for a moment before approaching…prodding, toeing at the man. Finally, they were satisfied. Cyrus Valen was dead, suicide, it seemed, by some poison of his own doing.


20:16:38 Cyrus`Valen It was quick affair…it always was, when Wizards had an embarrassment to hide. Not more than a few hours passed between his death and his interment in an unmarked grave in a pauper’s burial ground in London. They wouldn’t give the man the dignity of a proper burial nor that of being burned like a warrior. Instead, his corpse was doomed to lie here, unknown and unmourned until the Earth consumed it. And now, a small thing, who’d been prowling all along, watching the burial…a Cornish pixie. Once the crew had cleared out, it zipped down, chittering in concern, digging with tiny hands rapidly, and eventually its feet as well, digging until it came to the white cloth they’d bound the body in. Struggling for a moment, it used its tiny fangs to tear at the cloth and reveal Cyrus’s face. A vial had been tied to the pixie’s chest, which it promptly tore free as well, uncorked, and emptied into the dead man’s mouth before crawling back to the top of the hole it’d made, watching with a fair amount of worry. And (…wtf incomplete)

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