Rabastan Lestrange | 23 | Christopher Larkin | Taken
It was everything he had ever known, the constant fights between his half brother and his parents, the division in their small family unit, the way that everything seemed to be able to fall apart at the drop of a hat. It was because of this that he grew up belligerent, grew up strong, grew up hoping to be just like his half brother. It was no secret that Rabastan looked up to Rodolphus like no other—there would never be another idol who would match up to Rodolphus in Rabastan’s eyes.
Of course, they tried their best to keep the age difference from keeping them separate, but it was only a matter of time until Rab was far too young to even be seen with Rodolphus. He used to be smart enough, cool enough, clever enough, cunning enough, and, in general, good enough. As they grew up, the separation crept up on Rabastan—it started as a slow divide up until it became a complete split. He never saw it coming. Rabastan always thought that it would end up being him and Rodolphus against the world, but things didn’t end up the way he planned. Every cruel word Rodolphus ever said to Rabastan was a punch to the gut and a slap to the face.
Past his relationship with Rodolphus, Rabastan never had very many other friends. He was quiet and intelligent—brilliant, even—and he often spent time on his own when he was at school, either trying to make new potions or trying to charm objects to do his bidding or any other number of things. He always found the company of spellbooks and ingredients much more comforting than the company of other students. He never played well with others in the first place, and being snubbed by his older brother, who he thought was his best (and, really, only) friend, made him even colder. His intelligence became a mask, his cunning a shield. Rabastan was manipulative and calculating now, made dangerous by the hand of the people who tried to keep him inferior.
After leaving school, Rab followed his brother to join the Death Eaters. While he swore up and down that he joined purely for the Dark Lord’s ideals, it was plain as day to anyone who had seen him around Rodolphus that he was there because he would, still, follow Rod to the ends of the Earth. Despite this ulterior motive, Rabastan has grown to be of great use to the Dark Lord—while his demeanor on the outside might be level-headed and calm, Rabastan is a storm on the inside: the home he grew up in taught him well.
Generally, Rab can be cold to the point of being downright mean. He spends a lot of time consumed with his own thoughts, and finds that others are beneath him, petty people to play by petty rules set by those who are inferior in blood status or in intelligence, unable to see the truth of the Dark Lord’s ideals. Rabastan doesn’t take anything from anyone, and even in his short-lived and torrid love affairs, he’s the one in control. He does it just for the sex, and never anything else. What’s the point of falling in love when he can’t be seen with his lover in public without repercussions? Besides, Rabastan likes it when people are an arm-and-a-half away from him, rather than close. The last time he let someone get really close to him he was a kid growing up under Rodolphus’ mighty shadow, and that didn’t turn out well for him. He doesn’t care enough anymore.
His capacity for violence and Dark Magic is outstanding. He seems level-headed and cool in normal circumstances, but catch Rabastan in the heat of a fight or in the midst of his rage, and he won’t hold back. Even with physical violence, it seems that Rabastan has no limits, and the most terrifying part is that he feels no remorse afterwards. When he gets into a state for that violence, there’s no stopping him.
Currently, Rabastan is a Death Eater who usually functions as an attack dog. His violent tendencies have served the Dark Lord well, and he’s often sent to either get rid of someone in a rather messy way, or he is sent to extract information. He’s been practicing Dark Magic more and more frequently as of late, his voracious hunger for knowledge insatiable, especially when it comes to the Dark Arts. Rab knows how dangerous this kind of magic can be, but he likes the feeling of going to the edge without jumping off. It gives him a rush, and, in the end, Rabastan will take whatever he can get. Rabastan doesn’t care as much for his brother outwardly anymore, and he cares even less for that wife of his. Bellatrix is unnerving and strange and Rabastan wants none of that. He’s alone now—or, so he thinks—and he wants to keep it that way.
13 3/4 inches, cypress, phoenix feather, swishy
