#thread;antonin

[r-lestrcnge]

Status: CLOSED 3/3 (no more replies, please! 🤍) Where: Serra Borgin's birthday party When: flexible

Rabastan would not stay for long. He barely knew the Borgin girl, but he did know her parents well. It was due to their respectful business dealings that he'd accepted the invitation. Twenty-one seemed like a long time ago, though in reality it was not so far away. At that point in his life, he was committed to the war, with a black skull already blazoned to his arm to prove it.

Truth be told, it was peculiarly refreshing to be doing nothing at all. He usually made an effort to force social occasions to become beneficial, taking the opportunity to seek prudent company and to discuss whatever would be useful. But he lacked the will, tonight. An hour or so of mindless chatter was all he desired. He reasoned that the break would do him well, then he would return home and work on the remainder of his tasks for the Dark Lord before he slept.

Gravitating towards the drinks, he obtained a glass of scotch then looked around for snacks and pulled a hefty tray of canapés towards himself with a finger crooked against the plate's rim. May as well line his stomach.

[r-lestrcnge]

Starter for: Antonin Dolohov @xantoninxdolohovx Where: Lestrange House When: 06:00

Rabastan usually woke early. It was a habit long instilled, wrought into his bones with the rest of his determined efforts. The sooner he rose, the more he could achieve. But at present, he lacked the luxury of choice. Regardless of his wishes, the house was usually alarmed at one hour or another by the sound of a hungry, crying child. He and Alecto had stuck rigidly to their possessive intent, refusing too much assistance from the nanny in the first weeks. But a month had almost passed. Rabastan had returned to his usual duties, and it was reaching the point where he thought a strong silencing charm or two around the nursery would do them both a world of good.

He'd invited Antonin to join him for breakfast, again. He hadn't apologised for the early hour. The two were seated in the sitting room with tea and coffee, as though engaging in polite conversation before going about their respectively mundane working days. But their topic was as foul as their hearts, and as bitter as the coffee into which Rabastan now heaped a plentiful amount of sugar.

"What shall we do with him?" Sitting back, he turned to the other man and took an indulgent sip of his drink. Their friend, affectionately dubbed 'the Sock Man', had been in his basement for months. Though Rabastan's initial inclination had been to kill him and be done with it, he had to admit he'd proven useful. But now that use was wearing thin. "Do you still require him? I do not. The Dark Lord grows impatient. We must locate that safehouse soon."

[bellatrix-lestrxnge]

Starter for: Antonin Dolohov @xantoninxdolohovx Where: Rodolphus & Bellatrix's home When: night, after a Death Eater battle

At the cusp of midnight, two figures appeared in a flash of swirling robes and heady bloodshed. Bellatrix released her grip on Antonin, not caring for whether he had gained his footing as they'd landed hastily in the middle of her home's pristine drawing room. Chest heaving and eyes electrified, she wrenched her mask from her face and threw it towards a desk where it clattered as loudly as the exhilarated laugh that erupted from her joyous lips and rebounded from the stone walls. Her flesh was aflame. Nerves tender and skin searing, she revelled in the thrill of the fight, the scent of death still keenly clinging to her senses and the sound of screams still thundering exquisitely between her ears.

Slender fingers lightly shaking, she tossed her cloak onto the ground and sauntered to grab drinks, grinning breathlessly at her comrade as she went. As far as other Death Eaters went, Dolohov wasn't too bad. At least he was good with his tactics. Conversation wasn't dull either, and he was decent to look at. All in all, he had a lot going for him, but never would she admit that her husband had good taste in friends.

"A shame Rodolphus couldn't join us," she chuckled insincerely, turning and sending a full glass levitating towards Antonin. Her husband would be livid when he found out she'd slaughtered aurors without him, the competition between them forever growing in ferocity as the war drew on. The thought of his annoyance drew another bubbling laugh across her viper's tongue, her eyes widening with unbridled anticipation for his return, their swirling depths dancing behind the rim of her glass as she took a much required gulp. "But no matter. I'll make it up to him later." She needed to vent this excessive energy somehow, after all. Pinning him to a bed wasn't the worst way to do it. "I'm glad it was you with me tonight, Antonin. We make quite the team, if I may say so myself."

[r-lestrcnge]

Owl for: Antonin Dolohov @xantoninxdolohovx about Tiberius McLaggen @tiberiusxmclaggen Delivered by post office owl, on unmarked parchment devoid of any family insignia. It is plainly written in a magically disguised hand.

Dear friend,

I met with the acquaintance we discussed. As I expected, they were not willing to assist. But I have made an arrangement that will work well for all of us. It should help with my enquiries.

I hope you are making progress with your studies.

With best wishes.

[r-lestrcnge]

Open Starter: please, starting with 1x character per RPer! (feel free to DM if you'd like more!) Where: the Malfoy/Black wedding When: flexible

As a child, Rabastan had loathed weddings. They were far too noisy, too crowded, and pointless. Times had changed - at least to a certain extent. He didn't mind them so much, these days. He recognised the importance of the ceremonies; the joining of two families, committed to each other for the benefit of their futures. But most of all, they were generally decent affairs, with worthy company and excellent surroundings. The best families did so enjoy trying to outshine one another. He'd expected nothing less from the Malfoys and the Blacks, and they had not disappointed. It was simply a pity that they had chosen to marry in the middle of a war. Some might think it unwise or indecorous; Rabastan merely thought it inconvenient. He could have been elsewhere, doing something more valuable for the cause. But he was happy for the couple - his friends - and he committed himself to making sure their day proceeded smoothly.

Presently, he'd taken residence beside the alcohol, where he'd helped himself to a glass of champagne. Since no one required him, he was content to linger quietly alone, though he scanned the surroundings and observed the other guests as they milled around.

[r-lestrcnge]

Starter for: Antonin Dolohov @xantoninxdolohovx Where: Rabastan's home When: early morning

Rabastan had insisted on an early morning meeting, desiring to get this topic out of the way before proceeding with the rest of his day. He always awoke earlier than reasonable by most people's standards; a habit developed through years of ferocious study while at Hogwarts. The Common Room had always been quieter earlier rather than later. To achieve both his grades and to improve his knowledge of the dark arts, it had been a necessary commitment. Ten years later, he did not trouble to adjust his schedule. Rabastan did not like change, neither in himself nor in the world around him.

So he'd dragged Dolohov to his home, with the promise of breakfast and coffee, and more importantly - an efficient conversation. They had been tasked with a job that needed discussion before they acted upon it. The Dark Lord wished to locate an auror safehouse, and for it to be destroyed, preferably with said aurors locked inside. Rabastan would also dearly like to rid the world of numerous aurors in one fell swoop. It was an ambitious aim. But they were ambitious men.

"Help yourself, Antonin," he offered, gesturing to the coffee and other breakfast items provided by his elf. As he sat at the breakfast table, he leant back with the look of a man who wanted to proceed swiftly. Then, without proper heed, he tossed his copy of the Daily Prophet towards a desk at the side of the room, and proceeded to pour himself a coffee without batting an eyelid. The newspaper folded itself neatly and landed gracefully upon the wooden surface. "We should decide who you will target within the Ministry. Once you have the information, I can locate the safehouse and ascertain its protections and how to break them." Stirring his coffee, the spoon clinked against the china a few times before he permitted it to clatter against the saucer. "I could also attempt to weasel the information from my new acquaintance at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. But I should think your efforts would be more profitable. Yaxley may also be able to assist."