Date: 2009-01-12 17:33 Subject: death. Security: Public Mood: cold

Noooooooooooooooooora. Or anyone else who wants to tell me, because I can't find the flaming woman (see, no offence intended).

What's, um, supposed to be done on one's death day?

Is there...something I'm supposed to do? or can I just wallow in a corner and wonder how to kill myself again?.

I hate being a ghost.

Can you be helpful and not make sarcastic comments this time, people? You're all very good at the sarcastic comments.

Apparently, I'm supposed to be nice to the rest of you at moments like this. I heard some bad stuff happened recently. Sorry for, um, all that death and suffering.

Date: 2008-12-23 18:31 Subject: imprisonment! Security: Public

( Private )

( Slytherin ghosts )

There better be a ghostly party I can drag my arse to in the next couple of days. Oh, wait! Wait! What's this I hear? Ingrid is throwing one? And we're all invited? Weeeeeeeeell, then, I think I better get going, I hear her parties are all the rage. So lucky to have that woman, I am. So, so lucky.

Date: 2008-12-06 21:05 Subject: run for cover, as fast as you can, we're fighters, lovers, enemies, friends. Security: Public

( Private )

( Ingrid )

Afternoon, everyone. Um, those of you who are vitally challenged, like myself. I have a question. A rather pressing question. What does it mean when you get a letter summoning you to, uh, some kind of Council? Apparently...urgently. They want me to turn up tomorrow. Is this standard procedure, or should I be worried? terrified?

So, um, if someone could enlighten me, that'd be wonderful.

Date: 2008-07-14 21:50 Subject: dead?! I don't know the meaning of dead! Security: Public Mood: chipper

BOO!

BWAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHAHA.

GUESS WHO'S BACK FROM THE DEAD!

Okay, the childish part of this thread is over. Well, I have been for a while, actually, and I really spooked my dad for a bit there. Spooked meaning I gave him a heart attack and now he's had to close the business. Ooops. Found this in his desk, though. Then I had to figure out how to write on the damn thing again.

You can't drown me, fuckers!

Ingrid? Are you out there? Please tell me you are. I'm not that scary. dammit, you're the whole reason I'm here.

...you know, grey really doesn't suit me. Is it also really sad that I'm haunting my own warehouse? I probably should have stuck to live fast, die young, shouldn't I?

((a five minute comedy interlude with our favourite dead death eater associates and capitalists extraordinaire. As ghosts. They'll bugger off again soon. I should have said, if any current ghosts want to poke fun...or help out...))

Date: 2008-01-06 15:24 Subject: Flash Gordon. Security: Public Mood: bouncy

My little boy, Blaise Kolo Zabini. With the sunglasses and hat I got him. Tiniest things ever.

So cute. Ingrid, you wanted to meet him, I'll bring him over when I get back from my trip. Promise.

Tis all.

Date: 2007-12-30 17:58 Subject: Everyone hates war, apart from the arms dealers. Security: Public Mood: calm

( Private )

( Ingrid )

So, a new year coming up and new things. A son, for one. Poor kid will probably be born on New Year's Day. Should have thought about that before... I'm calling him Blaise. If Lissa lets me. And I am looking forward to it.

Also, new business partners, new friends, things are on the up. Well, for me they are.

Date: 2007-11-22 22:31 Subject: and the fire burned beauty in their eyes. Security: Public Mood: cold

( Private )

( Ingrid. )

( Death Eaters )

Sometimes, cushions just don't measure up. Oooh, cryptic, I know.

Date: 2007-10-28 12:43 Subject: some will hate you, pretend they love you now. Security: Public Mood: sick

( INGRID )

*scribbled*

For fuck'ssake.

Date: 2007-10-20 18:24 Subject: Stop the train, I'm leaving. Security: Public Mood: blah

( Private )

( Ingrid )

It is my lovely duty to inform you that Ollivander how has a decent stock of wands. I do too. Come, compare, buy off me. You know you want to.

Date: 2007-10-01 12:03 Subject: falling into the black widow's clutches. Security: Public Mood: annoyed

( Private )

( Bellatrix, Amycus, Dolohov et al. )

( Ingrid )

Well, isn't it a lovely day? For September, meaning it's dull, dreary and oh-my-god, where's my new hat? My new hat, made of awesome and awesome thread... it's gone. I'm sorry, what?

...It's a waste of money?! You did what?! For fuck's sake... MY HAT. My Puddlemere HAT. Women. Hmph.

On the upside, she hasn't objected to my earpiercing yet. Sparkle, sparkle.

Date: 2007-09-09 13:26 Subject: Just the daily business. Security: Public Mood: lazy

( Private )

Ingrid, your products are spectacular, I do recommend them to everyone. Work like a charm, one could say. Or a curse, depending on the product. Not the sort of thing you should buy

( Ingrid )

Date: 2007-08-13 10:55 Subject: I told you. Security: Public Mood: pissed off

This is not fucking fair. Not at all. I seem to be residing in a MUGGLE police station as of this minute. The brutes took my wand off me and started asking me if it was some kind of African magic voodoo stick. Racist fucks. I always knew Muggles, especially their police, were racist.

So now, whilst they're throwing my WAND, MY FUCKING WAND, to their dogs in a sick, twisted game of fetch, and laughing at me, I'm sitting here, metal things crushing my wrists, in a tiny little room. ME. Taribo Zabini. In this place, being treated like this. Only they could manage that.

I was only minding my own business, giving my friend the tickets I'd bought on their behalf. Then, all of a sudden, these fuckers in dark blue hats which literally make them look like knobheads turn up. And start asking me about the tickets. Then about where I was from. I say I'm British and ask what the fuck their problem is. Of course, never swear at someone weilding a truncheon. I'm not even sure what I got arrested for.

Will someone send me one of those Muggle Liason people can't believe I have to suck up to those traitor half-racists or at least come and pay my bail? I apparently have three 'fone-calls' but I haven't been given anything, so I'm not sure what they are or what they do.

Le sigh. This is fucked.

( Bellatrix )

Date: 2007-07-23 22:14 Subject: Tout? Me? Nooooo. Security: Public Mood: dorky

I have tickets. For the new, upcoming, exciting band Basilisk Tears at the Leaky Cauldron. When I say tickets, I don't mean I'm going. Too loud and clangy for my liking, really. I mean, this is SOLD OUT. And I have a limited amount of tickets for SALE. DO YOU HEAR ME? SALE.

Forty Galleons a ticket. Seventy for a pair. They will go fast, Basilisk Tears are the hottest thing around at the moment. Won't find them cheaper anywhere else.


Now. What do I want for my birthday? Ah, the choices.
( Burkes )

( Narcissa )

( Owl to Lucius, to be given to B.L. )

Date: 2007-07-14 18:10 Subject: So tonight we drink to youth. Security: Public Mood: working

( Private )

( Burke )

So, I got one of these. I'm not entirely sure why, if I'm honest. Actually, I have six million GOOD reasons to have bought one. They're good for talking to people even when you're stuck in the back of beyond where everyone speaks in squiggles Mongolia, anyone. They're good for making new acquaintences. Good for business. They're good for...oh, I could go on.

But, I didn't really get one for ANY of those reasons. I just figured 'why not?' Oh, and to rub it in all your faces that I am marrying a model very shortly. Yes, you are allowed to be jealous. No, you are not allowed to stare. All invited, provided you've got taste. Which means...well, most of you are probably excluded.