Cheekbones to die for - check!
Since you last saw me in my critically acclaimed role in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 (and no - I have no idea why it was two films but I did relish the double pay check - now stop interrupting) life has been a little hard for me. You see there are very few career paths open to fictional characters with a known penchant for genocide and evil, why I don't know, we're known to be goal oriented.
Rocking the classic LBD (Long Black Dressrobes)
Add to this the desert that is my internet dating profile, I guess that ghostly pale, snake nostrilled love machines are just too out there for most women. It's their loss - I've got a massive snake and I'm a talented parseltongue if you catch my meaning....
Anyway - I'd heard tell of a magical town where everything is slightly pixellated and the women are less picky - it's name was Sunset Valley and after yet another afternoon of hostile glares from teenaged boys in what appeared to be dresses I decided to relocate.
This look is bound to STUPEFY women in Sunset Valley
I knew I needed fresh victims neighbours who wouldn't believe everything that half-witted Potter boy had flogged to the Rowling woman, people who might wish to aid me in a my little scheme which I had nicknamed Operation Subordinate. Most pressingly I needed to find a worthy vessel to carry the DNA of my distinguished bloodline into a new generation of power-hungry adorably innocent Voldemorts.
I'd called ahead and purchased some land - I needed a lot big enough for the stately manor I would build with space for plenty of dungeons and torture chambers. I was pleased with what I found and I resolved not to slaughter my realtor for his 15% commission. Not today anyway. The view left a little to be desired but I was sure I could coerce my new neighbours in to redecorating their garishly colourful home. I not I caould always raze it to the ground!
I quickly threw together some furnishings in the most tasteful way I could before realising I might be in need of a job if I wanted to import the rest of my furniture to a home with walls.
I raised my face to the wind and detected a faint whiff of evil from the north. I soon located the local criminal enterprise - a pitiful set up in an abandoned warehouse that reeked of urine and a far cry from the stately homes I was used to defiling. It would do for now, though they had the gall to employ me as a decoy.
I cursed them as I left returning to my bed to muse on ways to ensnare a woman worthy of my legacy.
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