✕ DROWNING ✕

rabastan lestrange Slytherin alumni twenty-six hit wizard death eater

[lisavetbathory]

Rabastan Lestrange Text Posts ;; for Conundrum RP

[smallerstrange]

implacablealecto;;

It had been almost a year since he had been released from jail, a year since he had refused to listen to her and chosen what his brother wanted from him. Perhaps she shouldn’t be that mad anymore, maybe she was overreacting; but every time she saw him, he reminded her of everything they had been, everything they had lost; and she was invaded by an irrational anger. She couldn’t quite explain it. They were best friends, yes, and they had been something more - but there had never been any promises between them, there had never been other feelings involved, or so she liked to believe; so her reaction seemed unjustified. Then again, all her reactions when it came to Rabastan were. 

“I’m so not going to take that back. And that’s not how he actually looks. This would be so much better.” Despite herself, Alecto pulled out her wand and a drawing of a dick finally appeared next to Rodolphus’ face. “See? I’m still the best at this.” She sighed, as she followed him. “All right. A drink. But I still don’t know what you want to achieve with this. No matter how many drinks you buy me, I’m still going to be mad at you. Especially because it seems like you’ve been ignoring me for months, so that makes me even more mad, just so you know.”

“Okay but you should have put the dick in replacement of his face, he likes secretaries too much for that to be accurate.” He chuckles, glad to spend the time with her, even on unforgiving territory. He’d spent every moment possible trying to convince her to forgive him since he was released. Tell her that following his brother’s orders in following through with the attack on the Longbottoms was a choice beyond his comprehension. He thought that he had been doing the right thing, helping out the cause finally instead of running around to try and butter up his parents for her. Everything else he did was for her, even if they had agreed their relationship wasn’t tied to emotions beyond friendship. Now what he wanted most was to have her back. The feelings he’d been diving down beneath have started to puppeteer his moves. “I don’t think you’re drunk enough to make that case to me yet, you’ll be thankful for my unlimited generosity then. And I haven’t been ignoring you, so you shouldn’t be mad.”

[smallerstrange]

asteroidealight;;

“It’d probably be plenty funny if it didn’t came from who it came from,” Marlene raises her eyebrows and shrugs, holding her bag of groceries closer to her body and stopping in front of him. The fact that they have to deal with criminals on a daily basis is still nonsense to her, but at least Rabastan is one of the easiest ones to control and predict. Most of the times. “You look like garbage by the way, but I guess that’s appropriate— anyway, can’t you do something more useful than drawing on your brother’s posters like a little kid? I don’t know, burn them down, get him out of the race, make him leave the country.”

“Hey --I’m hilarious.” He doesn’t even need to think about a response, his defense for his sense of humor is an automatic mechanism. Somehow the defense of his brother’s campaign did not come as naturally, Rodolphus didn’t need his help for a good reputation. “ Damn you’re bitter.” He shrugs. “What are you doing that’s useful then? Waiting around this poster to criticize anyone who comes by?” 

[smallerstrange]

laurenwakefields;;

Lauren tilted her head to the side, observing the drawing almost appreciatively. “I think you’re just a misunderstood artist. Most are. Have you ever heard of Vincent Van Gogh? One of the biggest muggle painters. He chopped off his ear and sent it to his lover. Can you imagine, you just open a letter one morning and it’s a human ear? Bonkers.” She shrugged, rummaging her bag until she pulled out a can of purple spray paint; something that Rabastan was probably not going to understand at all. “May I?” With a smile, she drew a giant peace sign covering Rodolphus Lestrange’s face on the poster, and crossed out the slogan. Of course this wasn’t the first time she had done this to one of these things, but she wasn’t going to tell Rodolphus’ brother that. 

“What do you think?”

“That’s fucked up. Why an ear? Is that somehow a romantic part of the body? What did he even tell her --that he’d always be listening? That’s creepy, muggles don’t know what they’re doing.” The best way to communicate with him is through attempted jokes, one humor is swaying around the words he almost forgets his intentions at the start of the interaction. “Sure.” He watches her add to his addition to the poster, brows furrowed at her methods. “What is that supposed to mean?”

[smallerstrange]

likearosier;;

There’s something startling about Rabastan, and not in the way one might think. She supposes she never allowed herself to notice it, but she does when he laughs. It’s nothing like the reserved, hushed sounds of amusement she lets out. His chuckle is something he lets disturb others, something he doesn’t curb or conceal behind a hand. It’s bold, unabashed. She finds that to be something of note. His hand flicks, a pair of devil’s horns and a black tooth marring what would otherwise be Rodolphus’ pristine campaign poster. Eyes falling shut briefly, she shakes her head. While immature, she’d never outwardly tell him she thought so. “Rabastan, did you really make us stop–” she pauses, blinking up at him, “–to do that?” She lets the question linger a moment before uttering a sarcastic, “Why don’t you give him a unibrow while you’re at it, or perhaps just…tear it down, since you’re so keen on sabotage.”

“Yes, I definitely did. And you should be hysterical right now because that was a stroke of utter genius.” He chuckles, looking back at the work he’d displayed and nodding in appreciation. His eyes go back to her where a less than impressed expression continued to reside. With the amount of time his parents had been pushing him towards Evan, he would have assume he’d be able to get a smirk out of her by now. When she did smile it almost seemed like pity. “This isn’t sabotage, this is shear honesty. He’ll be the want-to-be centaur Minister. Totally cares for creatures. --The uni-brow is a great idea though. Do it.”

[smallerstrange]

If you were a basilisk, I wouldn't mind dying just to look into your eyes.

“I do have amazing eyes, you’re right. It’s literally the first drunken slur I hear on dates, fuck not every girl can be lying. –You’ve got great taste.” 

[smallerstrange]

ofvanities;;

      “You know, some people might disapprove of the fact that you’re both vandalizing private property and you’re also making fun of the person they’re going to vote for. Especially because you’re his brother. People are expecting you to be supportive.” Emma says with a smile. Rabastan’s relationship with Rodolphus is something way too complex for her to try and understand, so she has simply gotten used to it in the time they have been friends. “Are you done with your art now? As much as I appreciate horns and black teeth on political posters, we need to talk about the upcoming trials. And I would much prefer it if we did that over ice cream.” 

She raises an eyebrow. “None for you, though. The scouts need to see you’re in shape despite your age.”

“I’m only fucking with the poster. Don’t think that it counts as part of the whole property, no matter how much Rodolphus probably paid to put it in that exact spot. Hey-- what if they were going to vote for what’s-her-name instead? I’d be a hero.” He knows she doesn’t mean it with a negative connotation, joking more than anything so he smirks.”Okay, okay we’re going.” They continue to walk, getting away from the poster only to hit another, causing an undeniable eye roll. “Wait why do I have to watch you enjoy ice cream?”

[timaltman]

[smallerstrange]

implacablealecto;;

She pursed her lips, trying not to laugh. He wasn’t allowed to make her laugh, not anymore. In fact, she made a pointed effort no to look at the poster in front of her, no matter how much she was dying to just roll her eyes and draw a dick next to Rodolphus Lestrange’s smug expression. She didn’t even flinch when an old woman and her daughter walked by and glared at Rabastan, and he shamelessly talked back at them. 

Alecto crossed her arms, deliberately looking offended. “Maybe you’re the one that’s not funny, not the drawing, have you ever thought about that?” Still, laugh threatened to come out every time her eyes glanced at the poster. “And anyway, I’m still trying to figure out why I’m here. You know you don’t need me to chaperone you if you want to have a drink on your own.”

His attempt to lighten the mood was surely suffocating on the ground now, as his eyes fall down to that same potential spot to reign in failure. They’d done small pranks similar to this all the time together at Hogwarts, even over some unworthy paintings. She’d laughed endlessly then, but he knew she wasn’t as furious with him back when he was nineteen. “Okay --first of all I am hilarious, take that back. Second, the drawing is also funny because that’s how he actually looks. I’m all about realism y’know.” 

“I didn’t want you to watch me drink --I asked you to come get a drink with me. That’s different. Besides I shouldn’t be drinking that much before I go practice, being the drunk keeper only works when you’re sixteen.” He leaves the poster behind, smirking at it anyway, and starts to walk in the direction of a pub hoping she would follow.

[aha-ok-fick-dich]

We never really grow up. We only learn how to act in public.

Peter Pan (via aha-ok-fick-dich)

[smallerstrange]

olderstrange;;

Rodolphus initial reaction - as per usual when his brother was involved - was to roll his eyes. “The press follows everyone who might have some useful information Rabastan. You might know that, if you bothered to actually pay attention at work. They could even follow you one day. Wouldn’t that be grand?” He had thought his brother was going to learn his lesson after going to jail, perhaps try to take things more seriously. Apparently that wasn’t the case. Quite the contrary, he was now trying to start playing Quidditch again. As if that was an appropriate career path for a grown up 26 year old man. Sometimes he wondered if he should had left him in Azkaban a little bit longer. 

“Journalists don’t want my autograph, only ordinary people do. And you’re one to talk about that, pursuing your Quidditch dreams. You crave for attention as much as the next fragile ego in this place, Rabastan.” At his next comment, he shot the other man a quick glare. “In case you don’t know, we’re going through a crisis. Do you care to tell me what exactly are you doing inside that office of yours?”

“Okay --calm down I was just joking. You don’t have to go all matter-of-fact on me. Also when I get to be followed and asked for photos and shit it’ll be because I did something with talent. You haven’t even won yet, what do they have to base the admiration on? It’s weird.” He criticizes his brother’s lack of talent mostly because he believes that everything comes easily to him. Rodolphus has never had to lift a finger to get what he wants in his life, it was impossible for him to develop any real skills. He was born with them all somehow. 

“I know, I work here too it’s pretty hard to ignore. I figured you wouldn’t be worrying so much though, you definitely have a plan.” He shrugs his shoulders. “Right now I was watching you freak out silently actually. If you want I’ll leave you here and go right back to it?”

[smallerstrange]

crookedsnape;;

Date: October 7th, 1982

Location: Knockturn Alley Time: 11:49 pm Availability: OPEN

Perhaps there was no place more fitting for Severus, ominous and pale as he was, than Knockturn Alley. And he did not mind it. His years working in the apothecary had required constant trips to the area, and he had long grown familiar with the decay, with the scent of sulfur and the few bizarre characters that never seemed to venture away from it.

And yet, there was something unnerving to it that day. Severus scowled at the sliminess of Borgin’s smile and each darkened corner struck him as the perfect place for a discreet murder. He was acutely aware of every noise, of every step and rustle of cloth. It shouldn’t have surprised him, really. The anxiety had been there since Doge’s murder.

It was just by the entrance back to Diagon Alley that he noticed another figure. They were facing away from him, seemingly watching as a black-haired old woman stirred a basket of bones. A year before, he wouldn’t have thought of drawing attention to himself.  But his current position as the Hogwarts Potions Master easily justified his presence in Knockturn Alley and the amusement won out.

“That’s Norma. I wouldn’t get too close to her. Notice that the basket isn’t quite full - I’m sure she’d love to add your bones to her wares.”

“My bones? C’mon you think you can scare me that easily? I’m not a one of your first year classes.” He turns more towards the other now, flicking his cigarette between his fingertips. Despite his words his pupils are prompted to go back to the woman hugging smoke over a pot. He shivers dramatically, going back on his boasting as if the words did actually have some effect on him. “Maybe she’s been waiting here for you. I mean you are already just skin and bones wouldn’t be much work for her.” 

“How’s that going anyway? I haven’t heard you try to explain a potion to me for over a week. What if I’m getting dumber because of you?” He’s joking obviously, it being the main point of his vocabulary. His hand lifts his smoke to his mouth again, taking a long drag for the illusion of dramatic effect. “Want one?”

[smallerstrange]

location: diagon alley date: october 10th time: 5pm availability: open

He’s interrupting every conversation around him as he chuckles. Simply walking by was the plan, grabbing a quick drink, but he couldn’t resist flicking his fingers and plopping a pair of pointed horns and a black tooth on the nearby campaign poster. He’d been living with photos of Rodolphus slapping him in the face ever since he was born, more so now that he was moved out and his mother had put out more photos. “Someone beside him flashes disapproving eyes, obviously disagreeing with his brand of humor. “I’m convinced it looks better now --you’re insane.” 

“How is that not funny?” 

[smallerstrange]

( ɪ'ᴍ ᴀ ᴄᴀᴛ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ )

When Rabastan was about eight years old he decided that he wanted some kind of pet. His mother was utterly against it no matter how many times he asked, which would be every single moment of the day. Once he was eleven and going out to get his school supplies with Rodolphus he conveniently slipped away from his older brother to buy himself the white cat he owns to this day. When they got back home there wasn’t much for his parents to do, they figured he would be going off to school anyway and would take the blasted animal with him. He decided to name her Cleo, it  happened to be the first name he thought of when he started to beg for a pet and always liked it. Now he still has her, lounging in Lestrange manor from time to time. His parents seemed to have gotten over the shock after years of having her around.

[smallerstrange]

olderstrange;;

location: ministry atrium date: october 2nd time: 7pm availability: open

Of course he knew it was late. Most people had already left, but he kept walking around, going from elevator to elevator and visiting the different offices to keep everything coordinated. Ever since the Elphias Doge murderer, Rodolphus’ days had had no visible end. He had even slept in his office a couple of times, and it had had nothing to do with either Bellatrix being furious or Mafalda keeping him occupied. He rubbed his temples as he descended yet once again from one of the elevators, ready to go to his office and pull a couple more hours of paperwork. 

“Yes?” He said, polite as always even despite the exhaustion, to the person that almost immediately seemed to approach him. “If this is about the case, I’m afraid I’m not allowed to comment. You know I always talk with the press but this time the order came from the Minister himself.”

Rabastan’s day only stretched longer for the entertainment. Despite the terror of the murder (not that he hadn’t been through worse) he was pumping himself up into a surprisingly laughable mood while his eyes followed his brother’s pacing down the hall. He kept the door to his office open, waiting for the floor to clear at 5, signalling the over-compensation of Rodolphus’ clean up. Chuckling to himself he counted about 6 passes of the door before he had enough, now his own sanity was at stake. “Does the press really come follow you around work?”  “I figured they were just waiting for you outside --wanting an autograph.” He knew Rodolphus wouldn’t so much as crack a smile, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to stop himself from doing so. “What’s with the pacing? Waiting for your husband to come home for dinner?”

[smallerstrange]

( ᴛʀᴀɢɪᴄ ʙᴀᴄᴋꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ᴘᴛ. ɪɪ : ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴏ ᴄʜᴏɪᴄᴇ )

Who’s side are you on?

Death Eaters. He joined back when he turned seventeen years old, the simple mark did manage to give him a taste of the power as well as praise he had been craving. His greatest ambition is to be feared, powerful, to be someone that his family can be proud of, the kind of son that they will all be fond to have. The attention he craves has been projected into being a part of the Dark Lord’s lines, believing completely in his cause, he did only throw himself so far into the dark arts in order to pull himself one step closer to being someone people will remember.  Maybe in a different time, in a foreign world he would have had the opportunity to push his ambition into healthier goals.

What do you do?

Hit Wizard. Being a Lestrange it wasn’t difficult for him to be able to slither his way into the job opening. It also helped that his older brother Rodolphus was already a highly rewarded employee of the department of magical law enforcement. The job was an easy pick for him, because really it was either that or spend his days working directly alongside his older brother. All he had to do was put in a request to fill the spot after going through his training, no other credentials needed. After the release from azkaban he followed his brother back into the Minsitry’s graces with his old position waiting on a string. After being in prison he finally followed through with the ambition of playing Quidditch professionally. He has been training to try out for a regional team within the next year. Despite being older than the typical age for starting, he believes his drive could give him a chance –and if not at least he finally tried something for himself.

[galgadotssss-deactivated2016071]