R.L

Rodolphus Lestrange. Unspeakable. Heir to the Lestrange family.

[rodolphus-wil]

meeting expectations | closed

[rodolphus-wil]

notrodolphus‌:

Rabastan loved the gossip column. Sure, it was kind of unfortunate that it was spreading blatant lies about some of his classmates, and it seemed to put most everyone else in a sour if not paranoid mood, but that part of his conscience was easily blotted out. Because, well, it was a spotlight. And he was almost physically incapable of not putting on a show under one of those.

It helped that the ‘dirt’ on him wasn’t even all that bad. True, the only time Rabastan ever thought about marriage was how to avoid it for as long as possible, but then again playing the role of Ava Avery’s doting and dashing fiance-to-be was just as fun as that. And so he really only spared one or two thoughts of the consequences before deciding it an effort well played, proceeding to jump all the way in and sending a flock of doves to her office. He was enjoying the persona so much, in fact, that those pesky forethoughts didn’t even resurface once he’d gotten Rodolphus’ letter. He was just excited – a fake engagement, an excuse to write over-the-top love notes, and a chance to see his brother all in the same week? Godric, he really was peaking in life.

And so when Rabastan arrived at The Three Broomsticks, he was beaming. Upon locating Rodolphus, several more suns were added on to his smile. “There he is!” he exclaimed, rushing on over. Anyone who knew the younger Lestrange would assume that he was currently fighting against, like, five innate instincts to spread his arms out for a hug. Instead, however, Rabastan was rummaging inside his jacket pocket. “Goodness, you’re looking more and more grown everytime I see you,” he said once getting to the table, voice trilling into an impressive impression of one of their more gaudy aunts. He’d produced a tiny bottle of rubbing alcohol and was currently dabbing several drops into his hands. “Did you get taller? Are you using new beard oil? Come on, we can talk about boring, political Prophet things later – maybe when dad’s around – tell me some old people Ministry gossip.”

Rodolphus always noticed his brothers enthusiasm when seeing him seemed genuine, a baffling thing. Of course, the eldest Lestrange was fond of his younger sibling, enough that time spent with him seemed worthwhile, but his act of happiness upon seeing him was always a little bit put on. To make Rabastan feel more at ease, to match the ideal of what brothers should be? It didn’t matter, Rod supposed. There was some form of love there, even if he found it challenging to express it as well as Rabastan.

Still, there were some things that reminded Rodolphus why his brothers over-dramatic nature did not offend him. Little things, like not mocking his incessant need for people, himself included, to be free of germs. Rabastan cared without even trying now. A rare thing, something Rodolphus didn’t share. So, he kept his smile as Rabastan approached. Not genuine, but not painful either.

He let Rabastan babble for a bit, as was his nature, sitting down with an amused expression and pulling his drink towards him. The humour wasn’t lost on him, even if it was at the expense of a relative. He chuckled, “If height is the only thing you have above me, brother, we’ve not been raising you particularly well, hm?”

“I’m afraid that I have no Ministry gossip to tell you, I have no time for it. Once you settle down in a career, you’ll understand.” Rodolphus told him, a smile still on his face despite the sudden change of tone. Something more serious, some sort of a reminder. Rabastan had always been a free spirit, Rodolphus had known that. But spare heir or not, he was a Lestrange. And he would not bring shame to the family by not having a real job. “Now then, should I congratulate you on an engagement? Or are the papers misleading the public, again.”

[rodolphus-wil]

thorn in your side |

[rodolphus-wil]

vince-whoisleft‌:

“Lestrange!” Vince called out, the geniality and breeziness soaked into the two syllables quite clearly entirely fake. His press pass was pinned jauntily to the front of his cloak, even though at this point in his career most people in the Ministry knew exactly who he was, and why he was there. He could make a pretty sickle betting on which employees would roll their eyes at his presence and which would at least offer up a smile in his direction depending on the news of the day, but betting on Rodolphus Lestrange’s reaction really wasn’t a fair game at all.

The eldest Lestrange hated Vince, was the thing, and Vince found that terribly amusing.

“I am. Once again.” He agreed, only half turning to glimpse the Unspeakable and shoot him a shit-eating grin. Vince really had only been passing through the office, knowing that of all the departments in the Ministry, Lestrange’s was the least likely to capitulate to even his more persistently annoying questions. Secrecy was the name of their game and Rodolphus was damn good at his job, as far as Vince could see; that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try. Pestering had gotten him more frustrated answers than many people would guess, anyway. He’d never dig around anyone’s desk (at least not during work hours, he wasn’t stupid) but sometimes a thorough look around, as he was doing now, could be quite insightful. The Department of Mysteries had always piqued his insatiable interest, simply for being so bleeding mysterious.

“I might have an invitation, y’never know, I think your coworker likes me more than he lets on. Finds me amusing, at least, or maybe he’s just polite. Did I catch you at a bad time, mate? You’re looking a bit ill. Bad lunch?”

Rodolphus wasn’t looking ill. Vince was looking spectacularly pleased with himself, though.

Rodolphus didn’t dislike oblivious behaviour – after all, while working for the Death Eaters, he had to pull a mask of shock when someone told him about an attack. But quite honestly, Vince Sinclair could sneeze, and it would make the Lestrange heir want to pull his own hair out. Rod was certain the Muggleborn knew exactly how inconvenient he found him, probably took joy in it.

The grin, as he turned to him, made Rodolphus roll his eyes but did little else to show his increasing frustration with the reporter. However, whether or not the man was in his office was irrelevant, he still had a job to do. So, silently, he worked his way round his desk and gracefully sat in his chair, pulling out paperwork not so confidential until the other gentleman left. He could call security, but Rod presumed that Sinclair would find away around that to.

“I will, as always, ask you to leave. I suppose that it’ll be a waste of my breath. Or you’ll go and bother some other unfortunate employee who actually has a respectable profession.” Rodolphus spoke in an indifferent tone, although the muscles in his jaw showed tension. To not belittle him further about his blood status was most certainly a challenge. “Is there anything in particular you are seeking? If it’s not private, and I can tell you. Especially if it means you get out of my way sooner.”

Rodolphus also couldn’t help the concern that came to him when Vince made a comment about his looks. Vanity kicked in, and he abruptly looked up, ready to question his company when he saw the smug expression across his face. Typical, and foolish. To fall for such a thing.

“Is it customary for people to make jokes about others when they are insecure about their own appearance?” Rod asked, his gaze raking down Vince with blatant disapproval. “I can recommend a tailor, but she’s not a miracle worker. Now, leave. I’m busy.”

[ruinedchildhood]

[pussysista-deactivated20170521]

[captainjanevvay]

[meiselr]

Harry Potter A-Z challenge: ozzzymandius vs. ibuzoo

K - Knights

[dylan-obrien]

[undynememes-blog]

CHARACTER FLAWS MEME.

[rodolphus-wil]

undynememes‌:

bold flaws your character has / italicise ones they used to have, or have partially. feel free to add more.

absent-minded / abusive / addicted / aimless / alcoholic / aloof / anxious / arrogant / audacious / has bad habits / bigmouthed / bigoted / blunt / bold / callous / childish / cruel / cursed / dependent / dishonest / disloyal / disturbed / dubious / egotistical / envious / erratic / fanatical / fickle / fierce / finicky / flirty / gluttonous / gruff / gullible / hedonistic / humourless / hypocritical / idiotic / ignorant / illiterate / immature / impatient / impious / impish / incompetent / indecisive / indifferent / infamous / intolerant / judgemental / lazy / lewd / liar / lustful / masochistic / meddlesome / meek / megalomanic / naïve / nosey / obsessive / oppressive / overambitious / overemotional / overprotective / overzealous / paranoid / peevish / perfectionist / pessimistic / phobic / rebellious / reckless / remorseless / rigorous / sadistic / sarcastic / sceptic / seducer / selfish / self-martyr / self-righteous / senile / shallow / smart ass / solemn / spineless / spiteful / spoiled / squeamish / stubborn / superstitious / tactless / temperamental / theatrical / timid / tongue-tied / unlucky / unpredictable / untrustworthy / vain / weak-willed / withdrawn

[buffysummers]

Her (2013) dir. Spike Jonze

[rodolphus-wil]

thorn in your side |

@vince-whoisleft

For Rodolphus, going to work was a wonderful feeling. Not that he didn’t love his manor of course, or the company that sometimes lingered, but he did enjoy the satisfaction of completing his work within the Ministry. While being an Unspeakable wasn’t his first choice and he was, originally, put off that he was not within the political side of it, he found an invested interest in the career the moment he learned the inner workings. The information he gathered from being an Unspeakable was invaluable, he knew that immediately. But beyond pleasing the Dark Lord, Rodolphus just enjoyed gaining knowledge.

What he didn’t like was how accessible the Ministry was to members of the public – more importantly, reporters. Not that they were allowed to be there necessarily, but some of them found ways to get around. Namely, Vince Sinclair.

Rodolphus considered himself lucky in many ways, as his job meant that most of the information learned was so valuable, that even the most powerful wizard would have trouble getting into that area to snoop around. The downside was that the office he shared with one of his co-workers was not in the same area, and easy to get too. And while Rod was never idiotic enough to leave sensitive information lying around, it still irritated him to no end when someone was there without his permission. Like Vince often was.

But the Mudblood had never been one for privacy. And over the last few months, the idiot had become a pain. More annoyingly, Rodolphus knew he had to tone down his prejudice around him. Even though, as a whole, the Slytherin alumni had never met someone more worthy of a killing curse.

“Sinclair.” Rodolphus said sharply, mostly to announce his arrival. He didn’t expect the other man to stop whatever he was doing, of course. “You’re here. Again. Without invitation.”

[sebastian-whoisleft]

pause it, play it, pause // sebastian & rodolphus

[rodolphus-wil]

sebastian-whoisleft‌:

Sebastian wasn’t exactly a finisher. Meals, homework, the redecorating of his house; he didn’t often finish things that he started, on the few occasions that he did start something. He had always been a grey area, middle ground type of guy. Never forming full opinions on things, always ready to remain pliable and agile for situations that required it. Being friends with as many power-hungry, high-strung people as he was meant that he was in situations that required it a lot. 

That being said, there was somehow little that scared him more than a half-fulfilled Unforgiveable. 

Death was kinder than half-death. Torture was over quickly enough (though it still turned his stomach, even though it was always Antonin pulling the reins with his steady hand), but lasting nerve damage was possible, insanity had happened. An Imperio seemed like the safest one to get wrong; today was Sebastian’s education in why that was not true. Because a rouge person who managed to cut their own puppet strings did so only by drawing a target on their own back. And the people that had to shoot at those targets, evidently, were Sebastian Nott and Rodolphus Lestrange. One of those options made much more sense than the other, as far as Sebastian was concerned, and it was not the name printed on his own birth certificate. 

“Hopefully a new talked,” Sebastian amended. He brandished his wand, too. His lips had become a small button at the corner of his mouth. His mask didn’t feel like a safe hiding place, but it was better than no hiding place at all. “Because if he’s been talking all day…” after he trailed off, there was no dire need to keep going. He did anyway. “Don’t have time to be tracking other people down all night, too.” 

It was an agreement, not a fact. Sebastian had little else other than money and time, and everyone knew it. 

The house standing before them was, frankly, disgusting. Sebastian had a taste for the finer things in life even if he didn’t crutch upon them; his taste bordered on kitschy sometimes, but his taste wasn’t bad. The grime and gloom of this house seemed, at least, the perfect setting for what was about to happen. So Sebastian did what he always did - and decided to go with the flow. The front walk was cracked concrete and the door badly needed repainting, but Sebastian pointed his wand at the knob anyway, and nodded in satisfaction when the lock clicked out of place and provided them passage within.

Rodolphus was loyal to the Death Eaters without question, but he was never one to be taken for granted. While he was aware of the power the Dark Lord had, the respect he demanded and the power he wielded, he would prove nothing to him if he would take a minions job upon himself. Rodolphus knew he was too important for certain tasks, designating the responsibility onto the others was just a way to prove he was beyond that. So at Sebastian’s words, he shrugged. “One of the grunts can clean up the downfall. They’re not important.”

Of course, if the Dark Lord directly asked them to get rid of any damages after their original mission, he would do so without question. But it was above them. Hopefully the man in power would see that.

For those who knew Rodolphus well enough, and Sebastian was among them, they knew such an environment they were walking into caused him immediate stress. Why people on the run chose the must vile hiding locations, Rod would never be sure. But they were always filthy, always having an image of somewhere long abandoned. Just looking at it made him want to run back to his manor and shower. But the job came first, and with a deep breathe to compose himself, Rodolphus followed his partner up the path and to the door.

The entry was easy, and once he heard the familiar click, he nodded in approval towards the other masked man. Without a moments more hesitation, he made his way into the home. On first glance, it looked as no one had been there in months, but it could have been an easy deception. Rodolphus raised his wand, murmuring “Homenum Revelio.”

The marker was dull, as Rodolphus intended as to not alert the person they were hunting for that they had found him. The hint of blue revealed itself in the kitchen not too far from where they were standing. Indicating the direction with his head, Rod led the way down the hallway, trying to stop himself from heaving at the musty stench that surrounded them. Once he reached the room door, he turned back to Seb, simply turning towards him, hand on the door, to see if the other man was ready.

[rodolphus-wil]

for the cause |

@geraldine-whoisleft​

Wandlore was a fascinating area of study, even though Rodolphus would never waste his own time with such a thing. He was aware of its necessity, but there was only so much value a person with the skills had before they just became a burden. But it was not information that was so easily given up, and the constant malfunction or resistance of wands when it came to dark magic meant that some progress was slow. And while it was not Rod’s obligation nor mission to find a solution to this, he found it in his best interest to seek some sort of guidance for his fellow Death Eaters.

And consider himself lucky that his wand had been so loyal, despite the cruel spells that it had been used for.

His immediate instinct was to go to one of the Ollivander sisters, someone with knowledge of the information without as much of the attention. Rodolphus’ initial reaction would be to go to Gretchen, to attempt to befriend her and get out small snippets of knowledge that may be useful. But with the close proximity she had with Antonin Dolohov, he trusted his best friend would be able to figure out if the witch had any use or not. Gloria would have been the easiest option, being a supporter of their cause. But with his identity still hidden when it came to the mark on his arm, he had no wish to have her know his loyalty. Not until she had proven trustworthy.

Which left the middle child, Geraldine. And while Rodolphus was an open believer that anyone beyond a first child was simply a spare, he would be an idiot to not admit that some of them had their uses. He hoped the sister who worked within the wand shop would have some invaluable information. Even if it would be a slow process to drag it out of her. But he hadn’t gotten so far so quickly without his charisma, and a facade of being genuinely interested in other people.

On a day where Diagon Alley wasn’t so busy, Rodolphus decided to take the first step in his plan. Become, at the very least, associates with Geraldine Ollivander. As he stepped through the door, there was mild irritation that there was no one there to immediately greet him. Still, he continued forward until he reached the front desk, pressing his hand gently down on the bell to summon someone. With any luck, it would be the woman he was looking for. But he would improvise if not.

“Hello? Anyone here?”

[cravensvvorth]

[dailymarvelheroes]

[dialnfornoir]

Double Indemnity (1944)

[m4rzmerde]

… me.

[rodolphus-wil]

with some class | closed

[rodolphus-wil]

bellatrix-whoisleft·:

Bellatrix always felt exhilarated after these occasions. The work could be draining, naturally, but every spell pushed her higher. It was difficult to wind down from, and she didn’t want to. Instead, she situated herself in one of the armchairs with a table pulled close. With her first drink, she finished her notes–recording in perfect script what the man had told them and how long she believed him to be good for. Her memories would be more accurate, but she found a detailed report could go further with her opinions and thoughts on how to proceed.

Satisfied and listening to the water still running upstairs, she’d accepted another glass of scotch with a grateful nod–she couldn’t show more than the ounce of appreciation she felt for the creature doing its job and nothing more, but it was how she’d gotten another without asking or fear. With it, she switched to a heavy leather tome, still taking notes as she went. A bit of relaxation, a chance to further herself at a more casual pace. She could continue like this until sunrise. She wouldn’t be surprised if he took that long. Of all things to obsess over. She hadn’t been thrown up on, granted, but a spell to tidy her appearance and reapplying her lipstick was enough. She disposed of her heavy, dark cloak which the house elf would have cleaned of any trace of her before their next mission. She needed little else.

“Finally,” she said, her lips pursing at his greeting. They would have to have another talk about such pet names, but she was not looking to damper her night. That was a mere drop against the fire she was feeling.

“Aw, I like him,” Bellatrix said with a dry fondness. She looked up at Rodolphus with a smirk. “He squirms.” She waved her hand over her parchment to dry it, testing it with her finger and feeling pleasantly surprised when it worked. She’d had an exceptionally good night then. With that, she tucked them away in her book and set it on the end table. “Do you really not see the pleasure? He tries so hard despite the fact he knows he will lose. I fully intend on keeping him around, but I suppose he can be mine alone. I hardly mind taking credit for what we gain if he’s too much for you.”

It seemed Bellatrix wasted no time in making herself comfortable, not that Rodolphus minded. The manor they stood in was something she had helped pick out before any agreement made, with their years together at Hogwarts making him aware of her excellent taste. He would not tell her such, carrying the facade that he liked the company. But he valued her opinion, and he was certain she knew his true motive regardless. So he said nothing at her nonchalance, watching her fingers graze across whatever she had found interesting. “Finally? You could have taken your leave, should you have not wished for company. Or do you stay to torment me. The latter, I suspect.”

The comment was in jest, for truly no offense was taken. Although somehow, Rodolphus doubted Bellatrix would truly care if she had offended him anyway. When the House Elf returned with a small tumbler of gin for him, he nodded stiffly as a form of a thank you, far too proud to actually say the words to such a lowly being, before dropping down in a chair and pressing his fingers to his temples at the memory of the night.

“He is a vile worm, barely worth the dirt on your shoe. There are plenty of people who squirm, Bella. They, at the very least, are clean.”

While he was pleased with what they shared in common, there were some differences when it came between them. A Death Eater, as far as Rodolphus was concerned, was a job, and a good one. The Wizarding world was becoming polluted, and their goal was to ensure that pure blood stayed that way. He didn’t enjoying killing or torturing, it was a means to an end. He did not feel empathy for them, for in his own views, it was the correct thing to do. Bella seemed to enjoy it, get some sort of rush. Rodolphus didn’t care, as long as she was doing what was expected of her, it was a minor detail.

Rodolphus scoffed at that, gesturing the chair opposite him. “Don’t insult me, beloved.” The word was spoken with sarcasm, but with no intent to start a bickering match. “Nothing is too much for me. I shall just make sure to charm his mouth shut so he chokes on his own vomit should he attempt such a move again.” His gaze moved towards his glass, swirling around the liquid with grace before continuing with, “So you had fun then?”