Rita

[rit4skeeter]

“Not a good one, that’s for sure.” Rita quipped back, laughing slightly. It was one of the things she enjoyed most about Alecto - she was usually down for anything. Those were the best kinds of people, in Rita’s opinion. After all, how boring would it be to just sit at home and do the same things all the time? She tilted her head in agreement, grinning coyly. “In a manner of speaking, I suppose. But, I could hardly write an exposé on you, darling.” Although Alecto was definitely correct, it hadn’t been exactly the kind of waste of time Rita had been referring to. Still, it was over, and she was glad to be here instead.  “Let’s start with two and a glass of red and see where the night takes us.” She purred, smirking as she leaned her elbow on the bar as she teased. Although it did make her think of how big her house felt now that it was empty. “Just tell me if something cute walks in, yeah?” She sighed.

[ofxalectox]

"And I assure you I am the best friend ever." Or well, she was to her chosen people anyway. When Alecto decided she cared about someone, she was insanely loyal to them. She might not have that many good traits, but she was a loyal person. Alecto just laughed shaking her head. "That would be a sure way to get yourself barred." It really would. She supposed having Rita as one of her closest friends did have it's benefits. Alecto was pretty confident that she would not appear in one of Rita's articles. Not in a negative way anyway.

"Psh. Such a bad influence. Getting me to drink on the job." She teased, before grabbing a bottle of red. She poured two glasses, and then two shots, before pushing them towards her friend. "Define cute." She mused with a little laugh. "Cause if Ivy walks in she's mine."

[rit4skeeter]

“Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” She murmured, laughing lightly. Not that there weren’t other bars to go to - she just didn’t enjoy them nearly as much. No, she wouldn’t cut off her nose to spite her face. Rita had at least learned that lesson already. Her grin grew wider at Alecto’s next comment, watching as she poured their drinks. She shrugged lightly, not going to disagree, before she knocked the shot back.

“Oh, I dunno…. not Ludo?” She rolled her eyes. That was about her only requirement these days. “Oh, love. Ivy is great, but I could not handle the brat.” She scrunched her nose slightly, shaking herself at the mere idea of children. They were fine for other people, more power to them really, but Rita was not a kid person. She was happy with her dog, thank you very much.

[rit4skeeter]

She shook herself slightly as she came out of the bathroom. She had been flying around for longer than usual, it was harder than one might think to switch between wings and arms. Fluffing her hair, she made her way back over to the main walkway of the Alley, heels tapping along the stones in a steady rhythm as she walked. 

Rita stopped to glance in the window at Flourish and Blott’s - making sure they hadn’t taken her book out of the main display. She smiled as she saw it, satisfied.  Armando Dippet: Master or Moron? A small, satisfied sigh escaped her. “What do you think of a sequel?” She asked the person next to her, tapping her chin. Talking to herself more than anyone, really. “No one’s come out with a good piece on Dumbledore yet. I’m sure there’s loads to be dug up on him.”

[rxxlestrange]

Rabastan had been set in his tracks, stepping purposefully along the cobbled street towards Knockturn Alley. It was slow progress. The day was busy and crowds were filling the path. But he considered the slow speed advantageous in the end, as it allowed him to pause beside Flourish and Blott's, his eye caught by a set of elegant tomes on the subject of ancient runes in the corner of the display. Just as he'd decided to take a closer look, the witch beside him proceeded to converse without invitation.

"I haven't read it," he replied, turning his eyes to look slowly over the book plastering the rest of the display. His tone of voice, while quiet and polite, still curtly expressed displeasure at being troubled unnecessarily. Still, he couldn't resist responding to her latter comment. "But I would certainly welcome a piece on Dumbledore." What he would give to find out more about that man's weaknesses. Almost as much as he'd give to see him dead.

[rit4skeeter]

She hmphed slightly at his words but otherwise accepted it. You couldn’t force anyone to be well-read, after all. His tone - completely lost on her. She turned to look at him, intrigued, as he went on. Rita knew Rabastan Lestrange. Well, not personally, but Rita made it a point to know everyone of note. But she knew only snippets of the man. So he had no interest in Armando Dippet, but Dumbledore… well, it just told her what she already figured. Her next book would be even more successful. “Thank you, that’s what I said!” She agreed, half enthusiastic, half exasperated. “You wouldn’t believe the pushback from his little followers.” Her nose scrunched just a bit as a few particular people came to mind. “If he’s so great, what are they so afraid of?” She realized now she was mostly just talking for her own benefit, so she cleared her throat before she went off on too much of a tangent. “I’m not so convinced.”

[penkneeling]

✉ | Pen ⇄ Rita

Rita: Threat? Darling, I'm above such things. Rita: That is simply a fact. Rita: Proof read all you want - even the great Rita Skeeter has editors. Pen: i'm sure Pen: then we have a deal Pen: when exactly will you need me for this interview? and where?

[rit4skeeter]

Rita: Are you free tomorrow? Rita: Lunch is on me.

[rit4skeeter]

She shook herself slightly as she came out of the bathroom. She had been flying around for longer than usual, it was harder than one might think to switch between wings and arms. Fluffing her hair, she made her way back over to the main walkway of the Alley, heels tapping along the stones in a steady rhythm as she walked. 

Rita stopped to glance in the window at Flourish and Blott’s - making sure they hadn’t taken her book out of the main display. She smiled as she saw it, satisfied.  Armando Dippet: Master or Moron? A small, satisfied sigh escaped her. “What do you think of a sequel?” She asked the person next to her, tapping her chin. Talking to herself more than anyone, really. “No one’s come out with a good piece on Dumbledore yet. I’m sure there’s loads to be dug up on him.”

[siriusorionn-deactivated2025012]

Sirius had been on his way to one of the pubs, looking over at an interesting window display or two when he spotted Rita admiring her book in a window. It wasn’t a surprise though really, it seemed very on brand as something she would do. He hadn’t payed any attention to her books as he assumed they were full of lies or gossip but as he got closer he saw the title and made a face.

“Trying to ruin someone else's life are you Rita? I think it might be wise to stay away from Dumbledore he still has quite a lot of pull and people who support him,” he noted. “Wouldn’t want a mob at your door now would you?” he questioned with a raised brow. Of course, he couldn’t say that she wouldn’t deserve it if she did publish such a thing. Dumbledore had helped win them the war and while some methods might be questionable, it was war times… And not to mention the gossip column she had regularly outing people's secrets.

[rit4skeeter]

“I don’t ruin people’s lives, darling.” She answered instantly, used to this sort of critique. Rita turned with a smile, having recognized his voice. Sirius Black. She had no qualms with the man, but was unsurprised the feeling didn’t seem to be mutual. That’s what happens when you look up to people too much, she supposed. “They do it themselves, I just write about it. If you don’t like the facts, then don’t read it. Ignorance is bliss, you know.” She let loose a small, high pitched giggle as she shrugged, turning away from the window to face him fully. 

“Why, that sounds like you know something.” Her eyes sparkled at the back and forth, this was what she enjoyed. “If he’s as good a man as you say than there wouldn’t be any skeletons to dig up, now, would there?” Rita’s smile only grew wider and she tucked her hair behind her ear. “I think the people deserve to know their hero, don’t you?”

[penkneeling]

✉ | Pen ⇄ Rita Rita: Then don't Rita: I just thought you'd rather have your say, than let me find out and print it my way Pen: you know better than to threaten me, skeeter Pen: i'll allow it. i'm tired of the questions Pen: i will proof read the final piece before it's sent to print. that is my condition

[rit4skeeter]

Rita: Threat? Darling, I'm above such things. Rita: That is simply a fact. Rita: Proof read all you want - even the great Rita Skeeter has editors.

[rit4skeeter]

Rita had been following him for hours - after all, how could she not? It was one of the biggest news breaks to have come since the end of the war. The favorite son, second traitor to the Black name, was not dead. And the byline hadn't been hers. She wanted the details first.

Of course, she hadn’t been following him on two legs, but two wings. Waiting, watching, trying to see if he would give anything away. Which, it turns out, he didn’t. Regulus was apparently a fairly quiet man, and he surely wasn’t going to divulge any secrets to himself. And that roommate of his….

She ducked behind a statue of an angel and switched back, shaking herself slightly. Pulling a mirror from her purse, she spruced, before stepping out into the graveyard proper. The stick had been on purpose. She had learned many ways not to give away her secret, and bumbling and drawing attention to her movements was always effective.

“Darling, I don't need announcing.” She purred, a slight echo of her words bouncing off the stones as she spoke louder than him. She met his eyes, steps stopping just a few feet from him. “Just came to pay my respects.” Rita gestured to his own headstone, an impish smile on her lips. She paused only for a second, not long enough to invite a response. "I was at your funeral, you know."

[fangs-feathers]

On one of his better days, Regulus might have noticed that he was being followed. He might have cared. Since coming back to life, however, he found it very hard to care about what other people did. Even if what they were doing was following him. He was tired. So tired of being hurt and alone and used. What he wanted now, more than anything, was to see his friends, alive and well. What he wanted was peace. Rita was just about the opposite of peace. She was chaos in a pencil skirt and perfectly done lipstick. His green eyes flicked down to her and narrowed into judgmental slits as she smiled at him. "Oh, wonderful." Regulus drawled sarcastically as he tipped his chin up slightly. "I would have hated for the papers to miss out on such an affair." He went on in a deadpan before looking back at his headstone. Had many people shown up? Was it just his mother? Who else would have come? Maybe Penn? Severus knew the truth and Evan had been so badly harmed. Sirius probably wasn't allowed to come... Maybe it had been small. "Was my mother a basket case or did she keep it together well?" He asked in the same, cold, deadpan had he had been speaking in this whole time.

[rit4skeeter]

Her smile simply widened at his reaction to her company - it was a reaction she had come to appreciate over the years. It almost always signaled someone who had something to hide. Otherwise, people didn’t tend to care about her presence. Still, she would play nice. You caught more flies with sugar, or whatever the saying was.

“I’m sure.” She answered, sounding almost bored. She didn’t want to focus on what had already happened after all. And Regulus was right - his betrayal had been headlines for weeks. Of course she was going to follow that right into his funeral. It wasn’t like Rita was going to go without a paycheck for the sake of common decency. 

Still, hawk like eyes watched him carefully as he glanced back at the stone carved with his own name (how weird that must be). Rita’s instincts told her he was curious, despite his tone. Who wouldn’t be? He hadn’t been allowed there, obviously, and he hadn’t been back from the dead long enough to get the details from anyone else. Rita knew an opportunity when she saw one.

Her eyes met his for a long moment as she considered his question. His mother had been a wreck, yes. A monster, really. But that was to be expected from the elder Blacks. Just the mention of Regulus’ actions, and she was off in a rage - screaming, yelling, crying. Delusional. It had been sad, pitiful. She hadn’t been able to face reality. Of course, Rita betrayed none of this in her expression. She softened her features, dropping her eyes to the headstone as she answered. “She wasn't there.”

[penkneeling]

✉ | Pen ⇄ Rita Rita: Oh, you think? Rita: Well, why don't you fill me in then? Rita: I'd be glad to tell everyone just how wrong I was if you give me the proof of it. Pen: i know Pen: why should i reward you for it? Pen: i'm familiar with your typical work

[rit4skeeter]

Rita: Then don't Rita: I just thought you'd rather have your say, than let me find out and print it my way

[ludcvicb]

✉ | Ludo ⇄ Rita

Rita: Darling, I know it's hard but I thought you were getting better at reading? Rita: I only said one of those things. Rita: I merely passed the other along. Rita: Must have disappointed someone else this time, love. Ludo: I might be dumb but im not stupid Ludo: it was sent in ANONOMUSLY Ludo: which means anyone could have sent it, including you Ludo: also ur the only person that calls it a ween

[rit4skeeter]

Rita: So close. Rita: Anyway, you really think I would go through the trouble? Rita: I know you think the world revolves around you, darling, but I don't think about you half as much as you seem to think I do.

[penkneeling]

✉ | Pen ⇄ Rita Rita: Does that take up much of your time? Rita: I wouldn't know, clearly. Rita: Don't be cross, love. This is an easy fix. Pen: clearly there’s plenty you don't know Pen: how do you plan to fix it?

[rit4skeeter]

Rita: Oh, you think? Rita: Well, why don't you fill me in then? Rita: I'd be glad to tell everyone just how wrong I was if you give me the proof of it.

[ludcvicb]

✉ | Ludo ⇄ Rita

Ludo: are u for real Ludo: first telling people I have a small dick Ludo: now that I'm in love with myself??

[rit4skeeter]

Rita: Darling, I know it's hard but I thought you were getting better at reading? Rita: I only said one of those things. Rita: I merely passed the other along. Rita: Must have disappointed someone else this time, love.

[rit4skeeter]

Rita nodded, not picking up on the tone as Dahlia gave her her order. She relayed it to the waitress as they came over, ordering herself a large glass of red wine. Her gaze snapped back to Dahlia at her next words, her eyes curious. But then she saw the Prophet in her hands, open to her own column, and she smiled. 

“Oh, darling. Don’t tell me you’re mad about that?” She brushed it off, waving her hand slightly between them. “That’s just business. To the Prophet, anyone they can’t write about is boring. They like people who make them rich.” Her use of the word they was a bit of an overreach really, it was likely not a secret that that was more her own line of thinking. Still, even Rita could separate work from personal life. Not that she wasn’t willing to blend the two when it suited her. “If I didn’t think positively of you I wouldn’t have bothered sitting down.” She shrugged slightly, crossing her legs under the table. Clearly, she likely wouldn’t be getting anything out of this conversation, but she still had time to kill and a glass of wine to drink. She might as well get comfortable.

She smirked slightly, eyes glittering as she leaned forward just a little. “You could always prove me wrong, you know.” Rita mused, voice half teasing. “I could print a correction. I’m not above admitting when I’m mistaken.”

[dahliaxgreengrass]

Dahlia clenched her copy of The Daily Prophet. Perhaps she shouldn't be upset over what Rita wrote but she was angry. How dare anyone write about her? She didn't care who it was, be it Rita or anyone else. She considered Rita a friend and for her to say something with a negative connotation got under Dahlia's skin.

"Just business? They?" Dahlia leaned forward, "It's not they, it's us. You're part of this piece of shit paper," she said raising the paper. "How am I supposed to believe you think 'positively'" she used air quotes, "of me by writing that I'm boring? If I'm so boring why do you bother with me?"

Reading Rita's words was fresh and Dahlia hadn't had the chance to rationalize anything. It all came out raw and not like her. Normally she would be composed and slamming Rita with curated words but she didn't have the chance to prepare for that. She could feel how much she hated this side of herself but couldn't stop herself.

"Rita, honestly. What the hell? I don't have to prove anything to anyone. Especially for a newspaper full of rubbish. Rubbish that everyone reads."

[rit4skeeter]

“Yes, just business.” She said pointedly, a small smirk toying just at the edge of her lips, but she held it back. “Need I remind you that I was once the headline as well?” She raised an eyebrow, insinuating that if Rita could handle it (and Rita had had much harder things to swallow printed about her - her love life and failure therein splashed across the pages) than Dahlia should be able to as well. She nodded her thanks with a soft smile to the waitress, pausing as she dropped their drinks at the table.

But as the waitress left and Dahlia went on, it started to annoy her. Honestly, who cared about a little thing like boring? It wasn’t as if Rita had told the world she had house elf blood or something. "If it's such rubbish then why do you care?" She challenged silkily, tone just as neutral as before although she had dropped her voice lower. Rita was used to this - it never bothered her before, and it wouldn't now. But she also wasn't about to simply roll over and let Dahlia berate her as she threw her little tantrum. Rita was proud of her work, regardless of what anyone had to say about it - and she worked her ass off to be where she was. And if Dahlia wanted to get so upset over nothing, than let her. Rita would sleep just the same tonight for it. Yes, she had thought of her as a friend, of sorts, but it wouldn't be the first friend who couldn't handle it.

She leaned back, swirling her wine around the inside of her glass and watching as it left trails down the side. She took a sip, sighing contentedly, and watched Dahlia over the top of her glass, unblinking.

[animentality]

[stars-bean]

[rit4skeeter]

She had been trying to take the day off - not that she was very good at it. But still, determined, she had gone for a run, cooked her own breakfast (and discovered she had avoided it all these years for a very good reason), and been bored my mid-morning. Taking Brisket to the dog park had been a good idea, but he tired himself out faster than she did, and unsure what else to do, she had decided to take him shopping. 

She was busy looking at a stall of fast drying inks and self writing quills when there was a sharp tug at the leash, almost pulling her sideways, and she felt Brisket’s fur against her legs. Glancing down, the dog had all his fur along his spine raised, ears pinned back…. protecting her? Eyebrows thoroughly furrowed, she glanced around, holding her hair out of her face. 

Her eyes landed on Remus and she grinned wickedly, patting Brisket with a murmured “good boy’ before straightening up and letting her shoulders relax. “Well, well…” She drawled, crossing her arms over her chest. “And here you thought it'd be me spilling your little secret.” She licked her lips, chuckling, speaking low enough that only Remus could hear her.

@wolfinsheepsclothes

[fangs-feathers]

Location: Godricks Hollow - Graveyard

Open: Everyone

Precious son, Beloved Black.

The script under his name was odd to read. Precious son. Perious. It actually made Regulus laugh a bit. However, he didn't smile as the amused sound left his throat. Rubbing his hand across his chin, his fingers shaking lightly he looked over his own headstone once more. It was jarring to see. His name is carved into the black stone and those little lies in such pretty script below them. The only thing that had ever been precious about Regulus, at least as far as his parents were concerned, was his ability to carry the Black name forward. Of all his blood relatives, they could be left in the dark about his resurrection the longest. However, if they knew he had betrayed the Death Eaters and played a hand in reducing Tom to ash then they probably wouldn't want anything to do with him. Which, was best for everyone. Lifting his chin slightly, Regulus was about to stop pitying himself and go when he heard the crack of a branch behind him. Looking over his shoulder, his gaze near lazy, Regulus let his green eyes drift to whoever was behind him. "If you are trying to get the jump on me that was a pathetic excuse for sneaking." He drawled. "If not-" Regulus shrugged, "Maybe annonce yourself before wallking up behind someone."

[rit4skeeter]

Rita had been following him for hours - after all, how could she not? It was one of the biggest news breaks to have come since the end of the war. The favorite son, second traitor to the Black name, was not dead. And the byline hadn't been hers. She wanted the details first.

Of course, she hadn’t been following him on two legs, but two wings. Waiting, watching, trying to see if he would give anything away. Which, it turns out, he didn’t. Regulus was apparently a fairly quiet man, and he surely wasn’t going to divulge any secrets to himself. And that roommate of his….

She ducked behind a statue of an angel and switched back, shaking herself slightly. Pulling a mirror from her purse, she spruced, before stepping out into the graveyard proper. The stick had been on purpose. She had learned many ways not to give away her secret, and bumbling and drawing attention to her movements was always effective.

“Darling, I don't need announcing.” She purred, a slight echo of her words bouncing off the stones as she spoke louder than him. She met his eyes, steps stopping just a few feet from him. “Just came to pay my respects.” Rita gestured to his own headstone, an impish smile on her lips. She paused only for a second, not long enough to invite a response. "I was at your funeral, you know."

[rit4skeeter]

Not used to being anything less than the center of attention, Rita didn’t miss how Dahlia looked disappointed to see her. Usually, she would let it ruffle her feathers, but she wasn’t sure she cared enough about what the other thought of her (Did she really care what anyone thought of her?). She wanted the company, and honestly, she could do worse than Dahlia. She wasn’t about to turn her nose up at a decent conversation.

Rita nodded once, accepting the invitation of sorts, before sitting down. She placed her purse and coat next to her primly, leaning an elbow on the table and her chin on a freshly manicured hand with a small sigh. “How have you been, darling? It has been a while, hasn’t it?” She flagged down a waitress, lifting an eyebrow as she looked at Dahlia’s glass of water. “What do you want? It’s on me - and then you can tell me who you’re waiting so… patiently for.”

[dahliaxgreengrass]

It wasn't lost on Dahlia that her face could be read. She had been flipping through The Daily Prophet before Rita showed up and just as she was beginning to close it she saw her own name in print. Apparently she was boring. Why not let the witch sit down?

Dahlia didn't like getting into other people's business but would certainly talk about them behind their backs to the people she trusted and to the people she deemed good enough to hear her thoughts. Dahlia was a behind the scenes queen -- far from boring.

She had a life that no one had. She had a background that could rival others. But she didn't parade it. It wasn't something she wanted pity or attention for. It belonged to Dahlia. But it certainly made her interesting at the very least.

"Get me an elderflower wine and we can talk," Dahlia said with a flat tone and left a beat between statements. "But if I tell you who I'm waiting for it just might be too boring for you." Which of course it wouldn't be. After all, it was Bellatrix Lestrange. Her mentor. Pretty boring.

[rit4skeeter]

Rita nodded, not picking up on the tone as Dahlia gave her her order. She relayed it to the waitress as they came over, ordering herself a large glass of red wine. Her gaze snapped back to Dahlia at her next words, her eyes curious. But then she saw the Prophet in her hands, open to her own column, and she smiled. 

“Oh, darling. Don’t tell me you’re mad about that?” She brushed it off, waving her hand slightly between them. “That’s just business. To the Prophet, anyone they can’t write about is boring. They like people who make them rich.” Her use of the word they was a bit of an overreach really, it was likely not a secret that that was more her own line of thinking. Still, even Rita could separate work from personal life. Not that she wasn’t willing to blend the two when it suited her. “If I didn’t think positively of you I wouldn’t have bothered sitting down.” She shrugged slightly, crossing her legs under the table. Clearly, she likely wouldn’t be getting anything out of this conversation, but she still had time to kill and a glass of wine to drink. She might as well get comfortable.

She smirked slightly, eyes glittering as she leaned forward just a little. “You could always prove me wrong, you know.” Rita mused, voice half teasing. “I could print a correction. I’m not above admitting when I’m mistaken.”

[rit4skeeter]

She shook herself slightly as she came out of the bathroom. She had been flying around for longer than usual, it was harder than one might think to switch between wings and arms. Fluffing her hair, she made her way back over to the main walkway of the Alley, heels tapping along the stones in a steady rhythm as she walked. 

Rita stopped to glance in the window at Flourish and Blott’s - making sure they hadn’t taken her book out of the main display. She smiled as she saw it, satisfied.  Armando Dippet: Master or Moron? A small, satisfied sigh escaped her. “What do you think of a sequel?” She asked the person next to her, tapping her chin. Talking to herself more than anyone, really. “No one’s come out with a good piece on Dumbledore yet. I’m sure there’s loads to be dug up on him.”