Theo flinched at the sound of his name, recognising the voice immediately. Rodolphus was well known within the circles of Diagon Alley, infamous for making peopleâs lives harder than they needed to be, taking joy and pride in their frustration. Why did their paths need to cross today? He couldnât understand it. Nothing in his life seemed to be simple anymore. âLestrangeâŠâ He murmured in greeting, avoiding eye contact in a bid to quiet his nerves. âIâm just here to pick up a potion⊠I donâtâŠâ I donât want to cause any trouble. What use would there be in saying the words out loud? He knew they would only be brushed aside. When the woman behind the counter addressed Rodolphus, asking him to leave in a less than polite way, he immediately began to realise he had walked into a situation he really should be making an effort to avoid. But it was too late. If he could only pick up his potion and leave⊠âIâm not lying. I need this potion.â He insisted. âWith this dose⊠please. If you speak to Earnest, he works in the Hogsmeade Apothecary, heâll remember me. He can vouch for me.â It was a long shot, he wasnât sure the woman would want to waste so much energy and even then, he wasnât sure Earnest would vouch for him when the measurements were so obviously off. He could only hope he would trust him, understand he was lying for a reason. Taking a slow step backwards, away from Rodolphus, he felt his heart rate beginning to climb at the questions. âIâm not hiding anything.â He said, holding his voice firm and steady, deliberately avoiding the accusation of hiding a person. If he could avoid drawing attention to it, he would. âIâm just here to pick up some medication, thatâs allâŠâ He was a good liar, he knew he was a good liar. He silently prayed he was good enough to pull this off without having to admit the potions werenât for him.Â
Rodolphus sneered at the boy, his lip curling up in his signature look of, was it disgust? Was it intimidation? Heâd never put a label on it, only knew that he found himself making it when he was feeling particularly mean-spirited. Like a hunter sizing up its prey, he was glancing the younger boy over as if he was nothing more, or less, than an appetizer. So he laughed, the sound coming out cold and unfeeling. But then again, wasnât he nothing but cold and unfeeling? It had never been personal. A side effect of the life heâd ended up in, he supposed. A side effect of being top of the food chain. âI think youâre lying,â he said snidely, scrunching his nose up at him. âAnd I donât think she much cares to speak to Earnest at the Hogsmeade Apothecary, your problems arenât really.... our peopleâs kind of problems. You know. The people who matter.â Picking up a random vial off the counter, he twirled it between his fingers absentmindedly before Zara snatched it from him. It only made him sneer a bit deeper, still aimed at Theo as Zara grabbed the proper items. âYouâre hiding something. But, quite honestly, Iâm only here to be a thorn in your sides. Youâre like a little chew toy. So fun to play with.âÂ
Really, he wasnât happy about having to do this. In fact, he was actually pretty fucking mad. However, there were two people in this world who scared him, and their names were Bellatrix and Narcissa. Bellatrix because he still had no clue what she was capable of - not really - not beyond following the Dark Lordâs orders. And Narcissa because in a snap of her fingers, he was sure she could dig up enough dirt on him that it wouldnât be worth it to leave his house. So, when she demanded he apologize - the word alone disgusted him - to Phoenix, he didnât have much choice. Standing in the far too crowded bar, he shoved his way to the bar, shoving someone off a stool to take their place. âHey, kid,â he called, spotting Phoenix above the crowd. âYou got a minute?âÂ
Ah, Rodolphus. Not keen, but she could deal with it. Although, after this many drinks she couldnât be fully confident in her ability to hold back. Sheâd have to angle at being extra sweet, just in case anything slipped out. âWell, lifeâs what you make it. Canât guarantee everyone here knows how to enjoy themselves properly. Of course, I wouldnât doubt you know how to, Rodolphus. Rumour has it monster hunters play the hardest.â
@rcdclphuslestrcngeâ
Rodolphus couldnât help but laugh, raising a glass at the woman standing in front of him. âWell, you know, Iâm not sure how much partying can be had on a night like this. What with the in-laws throwing this whole thing,â he gestured to the room, throwing the rest of his glass back anyway. âBest behavior and all that, no?â He sighed, straightening out his jacket with a shrug. âBut youâd be surprised how wild the business gets. Gotta loosen up somehow. Just so happens Giggle Water does the trick any night of the week.âÂ
âYouâre walking through a mess of tables mate, with people sitting down. Had you walked, maybe- in the area where everyone else had you wouldnât be slamming into peopleâs chairs. Honestly, itâs not that bloody hard.â he said with a roll of his eyes. âJust because I know your name doesnât mean your worth something, Lestrange. I know the name of my house elf- but that doesnât really mean Iâm afraid of her, does it,â he said with a snort. âSurprised your wife let you out of her sight. Or are you still just as lonely as you are cocky? Get out of my face- Iâve squashed bigger bugs than you.â He said beginning to stand to his full height, not wavering at all- as he stood just a bit taller than the other, his eyes cast slightly downward. âPiss off, mate.â
âDidnât realize pigs could own a House Elf, mate. Bloody good for you. Making moves to change the world as we know it, no?â As Phoenix puffed his chest and stood taller than him, Rodolphus only scoffed. âAnd here I was going to ask if you were stupid... you just answered my question for me.â He took the last gulp of the drink in his hand, appearing much more calm than he was before he crushed the glass in his hand. âYou ever speak to me like that, or about my wife like that again you absolute fucking disgrace to the Pureblood title...â He scoffed, wiping his hand off on his pants before he stepped closer to the boy. Once they were close enough that he wouldnât cause much of a scene, his knuckles balled into a fist, rearing his arm back and then forward until it connected with the boyâs stomach. âWell then Iâll have to teach you your fucking place.â He wiped his hands on his pants again, turning around after one more look of distaste in Phoenixâs direction.
Was she surprised by the harshness in his tone. No. Rodolphus always had the charm of a rabid dog most of the time and she couldnât blame him, he was saddled with such a ridiculous name. She was glad that her parents never went along with that trend, it was like those of the sacred 18 just wanted to give their children a complex right from the start. She placed her clutch down on the bar top and ordered herself one of the cocktails. âBecause you are taking up entirely too much space, if you learned a little self-awareness youâd realize others want a drink,â she remarked though her demeanor was infinitely more calm than he was. âDid Bellatrix forget to feed you today?â
âOh, little Rose,â he said, his voice as patronizing as could be. âHasnât somebody, I donât know... stepped on you yet?â Rolling his eyes, he adjusted his suit jacket, sliding down the bar. But only an inch. And only because he didnât want to cause a scene. It wasnât worth it. âIâm taking up as much space as Iâm worth, Dearest. Believe it or not, some of us arenât content being a little mouse,â he said, shrugging his shoulders. âItâs her party, innit? Iâve had my fill of tiny food. And tragically, the Bartend is the most educated person Iâve spoken to so far, so forgive me if my mood isnât up to your standards.âÂ
Phoenix rolled his eyes at the man in front of him. He could tell just by the way the man talked that this guy thought he was king of the world. If there was the one thing he was grateful his father taught him- it was that he didnât back down from anyone, especially those who spoke like that in settings like these. He raised his eyebrows. âTough luck on that one happening, mate. And you ran into my chair, not the other around,â he said. It dawned on him then who this man was. Aggressive and cocky- this had to be Rodolphus Lestrange. âMy nameâs Phoenix Nott, Lestrange. And youâd do well to watch your tongue with who you speak within this hall. Not everyone is weak-willed and easily frightened.â
Rodolphus coughed out something like a scoff with a little bit of laugh mixed in, glancing the boy up and down once more. âYour chair was in my fuckinâ way,â he said, a sneer on his face. Another laugh as he ran a hand over his braids. âNotice how you know my name, and I couldnât care less about yours? Thatâs the way it is for a reason. Phoenix Nott... Iâve never even heard of you. Your father... briefly. In passing. While he kissed my ass.â Not true. He wouldnât know this boyâs father from a hole in the wall, but he recognized the last name as being involved with the Death Eaters, so it seemed astute enough. âIâm not gonna watch my tongue, but if you donât, I can assure you you wonât be reborn out of fuckinâ flames when Iâm finished with you. Whereâs your babysitter? Why donât you go run off anâ find them before I drag your ass out that door.âÂ
Phoenix couldnât say he particularly liked being around people who only existed to suck up and brown nose with his family and those who belonged to Sacred 28. Although some of the pureblood families werenât even worthy of the names they held, he was expected to be⊠civil with them even when that was the last thing he wanted to do. To be fair, heâd rather be at his home in London, drinking fire whiskey and working on commissions for the tattoos heâd be doing that week. When his mother had owled about being measured for a new set of robes he had apparated home for the quick fitting, not thinking the event would come so soon. Imagine his shock when he received them only a week later. Arms over his chest as he sat at one of the tables in the main hall he let his eyes wander around, making note of who he saw so he could either speak with them or avoid them. Fostering good relations was something he was practically bred to do, at least in his fatherâs opinion. Someone bumping into the back of his chair had him turning, an insult already on his tongue and a frown crossing his handsome features. âBloody hell, are you trying to knock me over? Watch yourself.â he spat, not fully recognizing who he was speaking with.
Rodolphus was waltzing through this party with a chip on his shoulder and boredom in his eyes. Itching just desperately waiting for something to happen so that he might be able to find some sort of entertainment. It could be a fight, a fire, a death for all he cared. He needed some fucking entertainment. With that said, he threw back the last of another glass of liquor, feeling it warm him from the inside out with a shudder. When he was walking mindlessly through the crowd, everyone backing out of his way as he did. He liked that. Loved it, even. So when he stumbled into a chair, his fists were already clenched. âWatch myself?,â Rodolphus asked with a scoff. âThatâs rich, coming from... whoever the fuck you are.â He glanced the boy over. âI donât think I need to watch myself, brother. In fact, Iâd like an apology. Instead. From you. Now.âÂ
This party, is that what his in-laws-to-be were calling it?, seemingly had no end in sight. But, tragically, as he was there with his darling Bellatrix, he had to be on his best behavior. He was so rarely uncomfortable. Heâd made it a point to surround himself with violence, power, malice... Those... those things he could handle. This...? He died a bit inside with every fake smile, every forced laugh. Finally, heâd reached his limit. The Firewhiskey may not have helped. âIâm sorry,â he hissed - his tone making it very clear he wasnât sorry. âIs there a reason youâre breathing down my back?âÂ
Marlene had already dined- helping herself to a healthy serving of food, and was now helping herself to another drink. These things were fun, but also required a good amount of alcohol to get the conversation following- not that Marlene needed any help talking. It was safe to say, she was in a jolly, carefree mood. Anyone here would be good to talk to; alcohol-fuelled social events were a hotspot for revealing secrets. She heard someone next to her and without looking, turned to clink her glass to them. âEnjoying the party?â
This was absolutely mind-numbing, Rodolphus thought to himself. How mundane parties had become, after a lifetime of them. He was meant for so much more. He was meant for fear and loathing and for people to shudder when his name was whispered in the darkest corners of Knockturn Alley. But instead, here he was. Stuck shaking hands with Mudbloods and Blood Traitors alike. The scum of the earth, he thought to himself. But when Marlene McKinnon raised her glass to him, he forced a smile to his face. âShouldnât anyone whoâs lucky enough to attend such a party be enjoying it?âÂ
âAnâ then I said, if Iâm gonna sell you this Erumpent, youâre gonna pay the price. Not a Knut less,â Rodolphus boasted, moving his shirt to the side to show off the scar heâd gotten in a fight with the buyer. âAnd he tried to negotiate... but the thing is... I donât fuckinâ negotiate.â He laughed, a deep chuckle, before looking up. Whether the person was actually looking at him or not, (who wouldnât be looking at him, he thought to himself), didnât matter. âWhat are you lookinâ at? Did ya miss storytime?,â he jeered.Â
Theo knew the potion might be a problem. He had taken the anxiety medication for a brief period of time after leaving home during Fifth Year, and the owner of the Hogsmeade Apothecary had become very familiar with him. Sometimes, when he wanted somewhere quiet, he would collect his prescription and spend the remainder of the visit talking to the elderly wizard, who was incredibly kind and more than willing to listen to him ramble about his favourite artists. Now, even after so many years, he could recall just how much the potions helped him, and after struggling to comfort Evan on more than one occasion, he had decided it would be good to keep some in his bathroom cabinet. That way, if Evan decided he wanted to take it, the option would be there. He knew the specifics, knew that the potion relied heavily on body weight and height. So he had taken Evanâs measurements and journeyed to the Apothecary on Diagon Alley. Not his first choice, he knew the old wizard from Hogsmeade wouldnât question him, but he was terrible with Apparation, far too easily distracted to focus. And without a license, the village was a very long way away. âNoâŠâ He said quietly, shaking his head at the woman behind the counter. âItâs for me, the measurements are correct.â He swallowed, forcing himself to hold eye contact, not enjoying being dishonest but knowing there really was no other way. âPlease⊠you donât know how badly I need them.â @rcdclphuslestrcngeâ
There was something off about Zara that Rodolphus hadnât quite put his finger on, which infuriated him more than his Masterâs trust in the strange girl. So, whenever he could, he made it a point to antagonize her. That day in particular, he was in the Apothecary she worked at, eager to pick a fight. It had been a boring few days, what could he say? He was growing tired with her, as she wasnât much of an easy target, so when she began ignoring his snide remarks in order to serve another customer, he only got angrier. Wasnât he worth far more attention than this stranger? And what idiot had the audacity to stand within five feet of Rodolphus Lestrange, he thought to himself, glancing at the stranger. No... not a stranger. âTheo Grayson, in the flesh,â Rodolphus sneered, baring his teeth like they were nothing short of fangs. âWell, well, you picked a perfect day to come down, didnât you? Iâm just waiting on this... whoever she is, to fetch me my Runespoor tranquilizer. I donât suppose youâd be my test run?,â he said. âFuck off, Rodolphus. Kid, listen, Iâm not stupid. Youâre, like, half the size of these measurements. I donât like people lying to my face,â Zara said. Rodolphus cut in. âThe bitch doesnât like people lying to her face. So why donât you fuckinâ move this along and tell her the truth... Unless youâre hiding something. Or someone. Why are you lying, Grayson? What could you possibly have to hide?âÂ
wanted to be
a better adversary
to all the evil i have done.
Donât you think RODOLPHUS LESTRANGE looks a lot like MICHAEL B JORDAN? Apparently HE is ADAPTABLE and INCORRUPTIBLE but can also be CALCULATING and APATHETIC. They are TWENTY-FOUR and were sorted into SLYTHERIN. The PUREBLOOD is affiliated with THE DEATH EATERS works as a MONSTER HUNTER, and lives in LONDON.Â
Aesthetics:
Red wine on a white couch, black eyes, bruised knuckles, silver daggers, emerald-crusted swords, sparring with a friend, the mark of a hand tight around your throat, scrubbing the blood from under your nails, expensive cologne, perfectly shined black dress shoes, heavy rings, the ugly song of a crow, black leather gloves, skulls for decoration, thick curtains, sleepy eyes
Writing Sample:
*Murder TW* *Child Murder TW*
He laughed in the face of his enemies. Didnât those fools know they were on the losing side? Had he had it in him, he might actually pity the family cowering pathetically in the corner. âPlease, my son,â the mother whined. âHeâs only 4, please show mercy.â
Rodolphus Lazarus Lestrange didnât know the meaning of the word mercy.
Green flashes erupted across the room, all four of the blood traitors slumping to the ground, though heâd had half a mind to draw it out longer for the mother. Who thinks begging on behalf of their child would prepare them for the world they were facing? When Rodolphus had been his age, heâd already watched his father carry out order after order heâd been given, he already had an example of the soldier he was brought into this world to become. Rodolphusâ mother was the one who tutored him on curses, hexes and the Unforgivables from the time he knew what such things were. He couldnât imagine her begging on his behalf. And look where itâd gotten him.
He was alive. The four year old boy was not. Somewhere one of their mothers had gone wrong and from where Rodolphus was standing the answer was clear as to who it had been.
One of his cohorts congratulated him on his speedy execution - after all heâd gotten quite the reputation as the fastest wandslinger in the Death Eaters - by which he meant he considered himself the fastest wizard in the world. Dumbledoreâs squad of buffoons held no comparison to any of their people. He was the best of the best in a group that accepted nothing less than the absolute best. He dared anyone to try him - friend or foe, those words held very little meaning to him anymore. So few people actually meant anything to him.
His betrothed - the word made his skin crawl - was a powerful one, yes. One that should not be underestimated - and Rodolphus never did - but the power he possessed was was incomparable, not even the other highest ranking Death Eater could hold a candle to him - at least in his mind. Â
Rod pocketed his wand, shrugging off the accolades that meant nothing to him. He didnât need their validation. Did they think he didnât know how powerful he was? He was thankful for the mask as he stood there, rolling his eyes at the other masked figure. Their petty, empty words rolled off his shoulders. They all wanted to be him, or even gain his approval, he was sure of it. He and his betrothed, as dreadful as the pairing was in Rodâs mind, were a terrifying duo. Exuding power and terror wherever they walked, so who was he to blame those around him for their desperation to be like them.
With a pop, he was back in his home, the bags under his eyes a sign of his slipping sanity. With every draining mission came another toll on his mental health. He was losing a grip on reality and it was becoming clearer in his eyes, his smile, his head. When he looked at his reflection it was hard to separate what he looked like without the mask. Sometimes he would have to blink until the bars across his lips disappeared, until the tendril like patterns across his forehead and the snakeskin pattern across his cheeks. He was exhausted, itâd been a long day ordering people around, following The Dark Lordâs orders himself and, as his House Elf rushed towards him with a mug full of tea, he didnât acknowledge the creatureâs presence, only grabbing the mug before retreating to his bedroom. This was what he was born to do, he was meant to be a soldier, and yet that made it no easier to go through every single day desperately grasping onto what little sanity he had left to hold onto. Sleep finally took him away and he escaped to a world in which he wasnât the most terrifying, threatening unstoppable member of the already feared army he practically led.
Anything else:
PERSONALITY :
( + ) ADAPTABLE ;; something that Rodolphus was taught was of extreme importance was adaptability. He was expected to advance to a leader in whatever setting he was put in. He was expected to understand the rules and expectations quickly wherever he was placed and he grew accustomed quickly to creating different versions of himself to adapt into these different roles and expectations. Though this will eventually contribute to the snap in his mental health itâs extremely useful in separating his own morality (what little there is of it) and the acts he committed. Â
( + ) CHARISMATIC ;; as a child, Rodolphus was raised in a highly social, incredibly exclusive scene. All heâd ever known was charming the smiles onto (and the clothes off of) those he was forced to socialize with. His voice, smooth like velvet, seemed capable of selling ice to an Eskimo. He knew well how to get what he wanted and while that can be used for evil, thatâs considered a sought after skill in the world Rodolphus resides in. Â
( + ) INCORRUPTIBLE ;; though some may consider Death Eaters corrupt by nature, the prejudiced lifestyle was all he had ever known. To him, to believe in anything other than blood purity was corrupt. To him, he was right - that which he had been taught incessantly was right. Heâs incapable of being swayed in his beliefs and that makes him incorruptible from the things heâd grown up learning. Â
( - ) CALCULATING ;; to be around Rodolphus is to feel as though every move you make is being noticed, taken into consideration, judged harshly. He uses this to his advantages, determining the weaknesses in even his closest acquaintances. Finding out what he can utilize to bend them to his own will. Either way, itâs dreadfully potent in the air around him that
( - ) NARCISSISTIC ;; there is no question about whether Rodolphus truly believes as highly of himself as he likes to say. He absolutely does. He feels that, more than most, he deserves power - fame - the glory of a name that people cower from in fear. He has no doubt that heâs earned every ounce of respect put on his name.
( - ) APATHETIC ;; as a child whoâd been conditioned day in and out to count more on his instincts and training than he was his emotions, Rodolphus is numb to most feelings. In situations where his cohorts or inferiors might react emotionally (such as the loss of a Death Eater theyâd been close to) Rodolphus had long since learned how to cover those feelings with layers of denial, often reacting to the news of another death with nothing more than an eyeball at the loss of a soldier.
NAME ETYMOLOGY :
Rodolphus Lazarus Lestrange.
Rodolphus: âFamous wolfâ // a sign that he was meant to be known. His name spoken and his form feared. Let them see that he is a man with fangs for teeth, hidden cleverly beneath a dark grin.
Lazarus: âGod helpsâ // ironic because god has been absent from his life since he was born. In fact, he often revered himself as his own god. He needs no assistance from the heavens, his helping hands reach from below.
Lestrange: âStrange or foreignâ // his glittery eyes are dark with small golden flecks. Theyâre strange, foreign, and will draw you in until he can feast on your trust.
MISC :
boggart *animal abuse/death tw* ;; the beautiful swan who his father had instructed him to kill, alive and well. his biggest fear is failure, so while his classmates had laughed at him, giggled at his fear of a peaceful, elegant bird, he knew what it really meant.
patronus ;; not applicable. he's never even bothered attempting the patronus charms. Â
favorite spell ;; Imperius Curse
amortentia ;; the French countryside when itâs raining, her favorite bakery in Italy and lavenders
wand ;;
â- wood ; blackthorn | blackthorn, which is a very unusual wand wood, has the reputation, in my view well-merited, of being best suited to a warrior..
â- core ; dragon heartstring | The dragon wand tends to be easiest to turn to the Dark Arts, though it will not incline that way of its own accord.
â- length ; 11 inches
playlist ;; [ HERE ]
pinboard ;; [ HERE ]
BIOGRAPHY :
*TW FOR ANIMAL DEATH/TORTURE*
PAST: When Rodolphus was five, his father walked him to the edge of a large lake. In it, or around it, he was told to find the most beautiful animal he could spot. He settled on a swan - graceful and easily beautiful. His father cast a spell on the animal, causing it to lurch at his son. Rodolphus faltered, hesitant to kill such a beautiful thing that he could easily overpower in a non fatal way. And still, as he raised a rock and hit the bird over the head with it - blood staining its white feathers - his father was proud. âBeauty,â he told the boy. âCharm and grace are tools of manipulation. You must never hesitate to save yourself in a situation just because your victim has played the part of someone who is not your enemy. Everyone - anyone who tries to kill you is your enemy.â Rodolphus, young as he may have been, never forget the lesson. Nor did the image of the blood-stained swan leave his mind.
PRESENT: As of right now, Rodolphus is one of the most powerful and influential Death Eaters around, and he worked hard for that position. He was ordered to give orders, and one of his inferiors dared to question whether he knew what he was doing. Rodolphus has no patience for that attitude, and didnât hesitate to eliminate the disloyal member. Setting an example and teaching an important lesson. He was not one to be questioned. Young as he may be compared to the others who he was in charge of, he was given that position and power for a reason. Questioning him was to question the Dark Lord himself, after all.
FUTURE: Within the walls of Azkaban, Rodolphus loses what little sanity he had left. Through his years as a weapon of mass destruction he felt it slipping away. He experienced long episodes of disassociation. He felt as though he watched the things he was doing - the acts he was ordered to commit - from a third person perspective instead. As he lay in his cell in Azkaban his mind slips further and further away, finding a new home in a world where he lives peacefully, where he wasnât a killer.
