#rxxlestrange

[mcrlsxmckinnon]

Starter for: @rxxlestrange Location: A muggle nightclub

It wasn't the first time that they had met at a nightclub. It was how they had met the first time around. Not that they made it a ritual of meeting here but from time to time, Marlene just needed it. She needed to forget everything that had happened with her brother. And unfortunately for her, she had searched her refuge in alcohol and party.

With a glass of champagne in her hand, Marlene leaned against the bar as she looked at her company. A rather unexpected person to be in her company, Marlene knew that but she enjoyed herself around him.

"I know we are in a muggle nightclub but can you at least try and pretend like you want to be here?"

[veelavie]

Estelle couldn't help the laugh, humorless as it was. "Of course not. Any chance they'll have at limiting the things they fear to lose control over, they will take. It has been that way and it will always be that way. They cannot risk having their lack of control be as apparent as the last time, now, can they?" The witch couldn't help the little smirk that snuck its way into the corner of her mouth. Somehow these things of the past always amused her. There may have been a loss for their side but at the end of the day to her this only meant another attempt was well worth the wait. The time would come.

Her heels echoed on the marble floor, only dampened by the loud setting of the street outside. Diagon Alley was seemingly filled to the brim, echoes of shouting and cheering as well as the busy life of a shopping alley. "Hm, excellent question." The blonde didn't bother turning around as instead she scanned the street in front of her, noticing quite a few people that did not seem to fit in. Pity.

"I'm sure you can think of something. You've always seemed rather creative in the tales I heard of you. Why ever would you want to come visit me?" For a moment she turned to observe the man in question. It was almost playful when her finger lifted, raising his chin just a tad. "You're a clever man, Rabastan. Why would you want to visit me? I could think of quite a few reasons." She had the smirk back. "If need be you're more than welcome to claim something as tame as ministry business. If that's what you'd prefer." - @rxxlestrange

They stepped towards the doors, slowly crossing the large foyer as they spoke. Rabastan could not remember the last time he'd conversed with Estelle. The war had interrupted so many aspects of their lives. He would not change a moment of it; he did not regret his participation or the choices he had made. But its impact was undeniable. There had been far fewer social occasions, and as his mother had been quick to indicate the last time they'd met, he was becoming too old to be bachelor. Such things had been far from his mind. He had been content to push them aside.

Estelle may have taken care to warm her smile, but Rabastan did not trouble to curtail the derision that shaded his expression. "I wouldn't be surprised by any attempted limitation, no matter how ludicrous." He had no faith in the Ministry, no belief in the current political system. It needed to be overhauled. "But I agree with you. No one will permit it. Imagine the uproar."

Standing aside, he allowed her to pass through the doors first. As they moved down the marble steps, he asked lightly, "Now for what purpose might you request my presence? I think I will make use of that offer."

[pciscnparkinscn]

@rxxlestrange

Ivy glanced around, desperate. She occasionally still helped at the Hog's Head when Aberforth reached out to her. He only asked when he had no other choice, and Ivy very rarely said no, needing the money to support herself and Pansy. The problem was that she couldn't find somebody to babysit and ended up taking the child to work with her. However, as the baby crawled across the dirty floor behind the bar, Ivy caught a whiff of something pungent. She needed to find someone to watch the bar for her for just a minute so she could tend to Pansy.

Rabastan Lestrange entered the bar at the perfect time, and Ivy felt herself relax slightly. "Rab, you have no idea how excited I am to see you!" She greeted with an unreasonably large grin on her face. "If you can do me a favour and just stand here behind the bar for like two minutes, and tell people to wait until I get back, I'll give you free drinks for the rest of the day." She fluttered her eyelashes, trying to look sweet with a pout on her lips. "Pretty please?"

[rodolphusxlestrange]

The woman Rodolphus had approached gave him a few moments of her time before turning to leave. He didn't take the time to lament it. He was necessarily out looking for someone to warm his bed. In fact, he was more interested in causing pain. Though he could have had both at the same time. It wouldn't have been the first time. Truth is that he was hardly trying. She wasn't worth that much effort to be honest. If he had laid it on completely she wouldn't have been able to say no. So he wasn't surprised or upset.

It was then that he heard Rabastan's voice. "A pretty thing, sure. I'm more interested in the sultry sort. Hadn't checked on her enough beforehand. But maybe she was more your type. Please feel free," Rodolphus raised an arm in the direction the young woman went. "It wouldn't bother me in the slightest."

Rodolphus was pleased to see Rabastan. They had an interesting relationship. He was the heir putting him first in the family, higher than Rabastan and Rodolphus knew it and flaunted it with care. Unbeknownst to Rabastan Rodolphus was always looking out for his little brother. He never wanted anything to happen to him. Though as they grew older, the young Lestrange began to show his worth. Otherwise the Dark Lord wouldn't have reached out to him for work, a fact that made Rodolphus proud.

He knew that Bellatrix was priming Rabastan to become their right hand man for what they had decided to do, do bring everyone back together again so Rodolphus kept his lips shut as hard as it was. He had allowed his wife to take the reigns. He would pick up the rest later. However, he couldn't resist poking questions.

"What would you do if the Dark Lord came back? I'm tired of the uneasy feeling that he is gone."

Bitter cold didn't trouble Rabastan. The colder, the better. The colder, the fewer people stepping in his way, hindering his peace and quiet with the intolerable frivolity that sunshine seemed to encourage. He would much rather walk alone with nothing but his thoughts and the delightfully cruel chill of the air upon his skin. Only fools shied away from discomfort, after all. And by a small logical extension; only the weak feared pain. He would be damned before he became weak.

But despite his usual pleasure in walking alone, Rabastan was not in a good frame of mind. He hadn't been for some time. Resentment brewed through his veins, a simmering anger that he could barely force to remain latent. He was infuriated by the end of the war. He could not accept that the Dark Lord had gone. With a stubborn unwillingness to address these emotions, he'd thrown himself into his work and had taken to disappearing without notice, accepting any job as long as it involved a lot of gold and a lot of violent curses.

Tonight was a rare night that he was home, and so it was with bland amusement that he noticed his brother on the same street. What were the chances? That empty entertainment became more genuine as Rodolphus's prey walked away. Rabastan almost expected him to follow her. If she had stayed, he would have remained quiet, far be it for him to interfere with his brother's games. But since the interaction was cut short, he announced his presence. It would have been rude not to.

"Good evening, brother." Stepping down from the pavement, Rabastan crossed the road. His gait was languid, lazy almost, imbued starkly with the natural arrogance that their name declared. He would not have been so relaxed with anyone except Rodolphus. "Such a pity. She was rather a pretty sort of thing." He tsked, looking slowly at the young woman's retreating figure. A curl inching at the corner of his lips, he glanced wryly at Rodolphus. "Perhaps I could have done better."

[dahliaxgreengrass]

Looking forward to being with Rabastan, Daisy hurriedly prepared closing the store. However, she didn't want him seeing her shuffling quickly and made herself appear as though she was taking her time. She was good at making it look like she was doing one thing and really doing another. She didn't want to come across as too eager -- even if she was. After all, she adored Rabastan's company. ...perhaps a little too much if she was honest with herself but that was neither here nor there.

Dahlia looked over and saw Rabastan glancing at potions. "Finding anything you like?" she teased. "Could get you a potion to help you make it through the night. Give you any stamina you may need to last," she raised her brow as she raised one side of her mouth. Merlin knew the sex with Rabastan was of the highest caliber. Dahlia could never wait to get him into bed.

Finally he grabbed her and they were gone. The thrill of apparating was part of the experience. His hands on her were electrifying as it was. When they finally arrived and he let go of her she was a bit disappointed but then he reached for her chin. A chill ran down her spine. Dahlia breathed deep. "There are many things we could do, sir," she said, shaking her head side to side.

As he turned to get drinks, Dahlia walked up behind him and put her hands on his waist, clutching her nails into his sides. She stood on her toes and whispered to him, "Elderflower wine." Then bit his ear.

"That would be perfect, Dahlia," Rabastan replied, entirely satisfied by this outcome. It had been his goal to obtain her company, and having done so earlier than anticipated, he was more than happy to wait. He could not care less for the fact that she was closing someone else's business early. If he had his way, she would not be working here at all. The owner was distasteful. The job was beneath her. But she had her reasons and he respected her choice. For that alone, he would not comment on Tilden's blood status.

As he waited, he heedlessly browsed the nearest shelves, turning a few bottles here and there to examine the contents. Potions were not his forte; he did not have the patience to wait for results while nothing much happened in the interim. Fortunately, this wait was not lengthy and Dahlia was ready soon enough. He extended a hand to disapparate, curling his fingers around hers with familiar, unyielding intent. Then they were gone, spinning seamlessly into nothingness, a whirl of black and sudden silence.

As they landed in his home, Rabastan released his grip. Though not for long. His fingers raised swiftly, tucking beneath her chin to incline her face towards his. "All alone. What to do first?" It was a question half-jested, his eyes bright with supressed greed as they drove into hers. He could think of much that he'd like to do with her - do to her. But there was plenty of time for that, so with a faint laugh he withdrew his touch and moved to pour them drinks, carelessly tossing his cloak onto a couch in the process.

[mcrlsxmckinnon]

Only when Rabastan replied and let her know that it was a hotel the last time he had been there, Marlene moved her attention to him. And it was only then that she caught his studious look focused on her. It made her feel a little nervous, being the target of someone who was clearly focused on something in mind. Before she could say something, he looked down at the street below. Marlene hadn't even noticed that she had been holding her breath until that moment.

The woman looked at the street for a moment, before some movement besides her and so behind Rabastan caught her attention. "You said it was a hotel the last time right. I don't think said hotel had kitchens in their suites and also old angry French ladies who want to know how suddenly strangers appeared on her balcony?" she asked the other, her voice suddenly a bit small at the question. The one thing moving through her head was... Muggle or witch? What was the case with this woman? Disapparate or obliviate and then disapparate?

Rabastan had kept his eyes on her as she studied the landscape. His gaze etched her features, heavy and studious. It was an intensity that would not be easily ceased, for he was a man who did precisely what he wanted when he desired - at least, when he could get away with it. It was a pity that he had to tame his wishes, these days. It was infuriating.

As her smile emerged unhindered, his lips also curved in dark contentment. He congratulated himself on having solved their little dilemma; it was certainly a better environment and he was pleased to have removed the disappointment from her countenance. It had not been a suitable reaction. She should not have wanted to be near muggles. If she wanted to escape, there were better ways to do it.

"It was a hotel the last time I was here," he replied, with a nonchalance that conveyed that he would not care if it was - in fact - no longer a hotel. Placing both hands on the rail, he looked down onto the street below and watched as a few intoxicated witches struggled over the cobbles. "Shall we find somewhere to drink? Or do you still desire music and crowds?"

[mcrlsxmckinnon]

Apparating will never be something Marlene would get used to. She definitely preferred a broom over it but it would take so much longer. The woman closed her eyes automatically as always. Luckily enough it didn't take long before she was able to breath in fresh air once more. So the first thing she did was take a deep breath of the cool Parisian air before opening up her eyes and trying to decide where they were.

Marlene's attention moved to Rabastan when he let go of her hand and then took a look over the many lights that was Paris. The Eifel Tower was completely lit in the background as well and a smile formed on the woman's face.

"No French for me besides 'oui' and 'non' and maybe some more single simple words," Marlene admitted to the man standing next to her. Her gaze was still set on the many lights in front of them. "Whose balcony are we standing on right now?"

Noting the flash of excitement in Marlene's eyes, Rabastan's mood continued to improve. Her animation was contagious. The effect was partly innocuous; he responded well to innocence. He valued it. But another part of him wanted to see what further emotions he could manipulate in her. He had no particular goal in spending time with Marlene, aside from the satisfaction of separating her from the rest of the McKinnons. It was a selfish whim. He was enjoying it.

Wasting no time when she extended her hand, he wrapped his fingers around hers and stole her away. His grip was decisive, their disapparition swift. The muggle street was left far behind, with nothing but an unnaturally swirling breeze to indicate they'd been there at all. Once landed, he took a moment to observe their surroundings before leading her towards a balcony and releasing his hold.

"Well," he said, satisfied and gesturing to the cityscape below. "That's Paris. Do you speak any French?" It had been some time since he'd visited the city. But he'd brought them to a good spot in their wizarding world - and she could have all the champagne she desired.

[mcrlsxmckinnon]

Better than these Muggles. Marlene knew that she was a Pureblood. She was the same as him in that matter. But her best friend... The woman she had known for so many years now... Lily was a Muggleborn. And she was one of the brightest she knew. Marlene did not consider herself better than her. Or her family. Okay, maybe a bit because the stories she had heard of Lily's sister weren't the best.

Interacting with Rabastan was fun because it was her own little secret. It was fun because she was able to get away from the Order and from reality. It was fun because he knew how to have fun in a different way than she saw it.

Marlene pulled the cloak around her body better after he draped it over her shoulders. Her eyes lit up at the mention of Paris. His expression seemed to have bettered as well. "How about Paris, I have never been there before." And there was definitely not a chance of bumping into people she knew. She reached out so she could take his hand. "Bring me to Paris."

Pacified by her agreement, Rabastan was already considering where to go next. Her question caused him pause, his eyes roaming hers attentively. The vulnerability in her tone, in the way she stood with arms curled protectively, was not lost on him. Marlene was a sweet creature. But their paths had crossed because of her demons, and he was more than willing to entertain them.

"Don't be disappointed. We don't belong here. We're better than these Muggles. We deserve more." It was bizarre, being with someone who was embarrassed of his company. Rabastan was not accustomed to such a thing. He removed his cloak and draped it over her shoulders in an inherent act of etiquette, now feeling the chill through his crisp white shirt. It was refreshing after the clammy heat of the club. "We can go anywhere." Anywhere but here. A curl faintly raked his lips, lifting his expression from its previously disgruntled state. "Name it. Paris? New York? The world is at our feet." It would have been, if he'd had his way before the war's end. It should have been.

[mcrlsxmckinnon]

The Wizarding World. That was to be expected to end up there, but it was also a world where more people she knew could be. And that was something that Marlene preferred not to yet. Not when she was out and about with Rabastan. Even though the sides had disappeared officially, they were still there.

Marlene followed the man to a quieter part of the street. "Alright. Never again," she promised him. She wrapped her arms around herself against the chill of the night and she shrugged then. "I can get champagne somewhere else as well." She stopped in her tracks and she looked at Rabastan.

"If we go back to the wizarding world... Can we go somewhere no one will know us? I am not feeling any familiar company tonight."

Had he been in a better mood, he would have found her laughter charming. At present, he was intent on leaving as swiftly as possible, and for a wild moment he thought she was about to object. It would not have changed his course of action if she had, but it would have irritated him further.

"We will return to the wizarding world," he replied, as though it were self-evident. Where precisely, he was not yet sure. For now, it was irrelevant. Steering her through the swelling crowds, it took all of his self-restraint not to cause a scene by disapparating - or by blasting a clear path with a carefully aimed curse.

Once outside in the cool air, he led her to a quieter part of the street. "Never again." Casting her a sidelong glance, he wondered what had possessed her to think that was a suitable location. "At least you finished your champagne."

[veelavie]

Estelle's eyes wandered, scanning every inch of Rabastan's face before it was interrupted by his words, listening to him ever so much more important than simply observing. "Gladly. I'm sure he'll be happy to hear from you." His words held a truth rarely spoken out loud. Every time she'd seen her brother he had seemed a little less himself than the time before. It came down to activities of the war, no doubt. "If need be and you'd like to handle things in a more polite manner you are more than welcome to claim I've requested your presence." She glanced around the hall, motioning toward the door. "It shouldn't be a surprise if I am busy that day. Conveniently."

If there was something the witch cared about it was her twin. Evan meant more to her than words could have ever described. Thus it was only natural to want him around those who'd have the potential to bring joy; as much as that was possible in this case.

The former Slytherin couldn't help the slight smirk, ever so present in the corner of her lips before instead aiming for a warmer smile. "Lock and key, as though we hadn't been granted a spell to take care of that little issue." Her eyes moved over the doors, those to open them hurrying to get them open for them. Admittedly, Estelle wasn't a fan of Gringott's. It always seemed a little too crowded for her liking. "For what it's worth, I doubt anyone in their right mind is going to agree to this." - @rxxlestrange

"Please do give him my regards," Rabastan agreed, mirroring her smile. It was a polite reflex, devoid of anything except automatic civility. Yet he moved his gaze over her expression, less intrusively than earlier, but with equal interested study. She truly was a beauty. It was all the more apparent at this close proximity. "I fear his pride might cause him to refuse company. So I will visit unannounced, and I hope he will forgive the intrusion." It wasn't the correct way to do things, but it was the most prudent.

At her question, he quirked an eyebrow and brusquely laughed. It was a dry and humourless sound, betraying the ridicule he'd concealed during the utterly pointless meeting.

"It would never get past the Wizengamot. The Ministry cannot restrict the right to protect our possessions. What would be next? Must we remove the curses from our homes and guard them with lock and key like common muggles?" The words left his lips without a second thought. He had no concerns about speaking freely with a Rosier.

[mcrlsxmckinnon]

Marlene did not even get a reaction to her question. The only thing that was told to her, was the fact that they were leaving. No discussion possible. And it made Marlene laugh out loud, her eyes twinkling at the reaction she had gotten out of Rabastan only by dragging him into a Muggle nightclub. It was clear he did not want to be there.

"Aye, aye sir. Let's go," Marlene let him know, hooking her arm through his before downing the glass of champagne that she had in the other hand. "So. Where will we be going then if you don't want to be here?"

They had been in this godforsaken place for only ten minutes. It was all Rabastan could tolerate. His patience was slowly seething to the point of implosion, sheer loathing carving steadily into his ordinarily indifferent features. As he stood beside the McKinnon girl, his attention was nowhere near her company. Instead, his mind roved, whirling around the utter injustice of muggles going about their lives while his had been turned upside down. How delicious it would be to kill them all.

The temptation was acute, prickling through his bones with the divine promise of retribution. But he was far from a reckless man. Instead, he turned to Marlene and stated, "We're leaving." His tone left no room for objection. It was the utterance of a decision made, and nothing would dissuade him.

She had dragged him here. Now he would drag her away. Rabastan did not know Marlene particularly well. While he was aware of her family's activity in the Order, he did not recall her presence. It brought him more than a little satisfaction to pry the McKinnon daughter further from her traitor relatives' grasp.

[veelavie]

It wasn't the first time she'd have been called over and certainly it was not going to be the last. Of that Estelle was rather sure. Despite there being a decent number of people capable of translating things, there was a certain advantage in being both hardworking as well as determined to be the best at what she did. Of course, the name had helped and the fact that she knew to be quiet and take her notes without drawing attention beyond what was expected. Apart from that the blonde had found the meeting rather boring. Nothing regarding the topics discussed seemed interesting and, in many a case, entirely pointless. No one in their right mind would have gone ahead with agreeing to such terms.

After the meeting she'd headed out, happy to take the next two hours to get some errands out of the way before returning to work when a voice drew her attention. The witch whirled around, smile on her face. "Rabastan Lestrange." Estelle had been taught to respect other's of the sacred 28, would have never considered an alternative. A nod at his question to confirm. "He is doing well enough, I suppose. I shall let him know you send you regards if you wish? Unless you'd rather have me inform him of your intentions to visit. I'm sure he'd be happy to it either way."

The former Slytherin glanced around the hall. spotting some of the people from the meeting make their way past before her attention returned to the man in front of her. "What did you think of proposal? A rather unconventional method to try and gain control if you ask me." It was all together rather bizarre. The young woman shrugged, the files in her hands carefully lifted and adjusted in the meantime. - @rxxlestrange

Starter for: @veelavie At: Gringotts Wizarding Bank

It had been a long afternoon. The last thing Rabastan wanted was to be surrounded by Ministry officials, particularly at this point after the war. But here he was, stuck in a room for several hours while they discussed an initiative to restrict dark objects. It was a spectacularly boring subject. He found no value in it. It was nothing more than a grand idea to reassure people that dark magic would not be tolerated, and he could not see a day where people accepted their treasures being de-cursed against their will. But he sat with a tight-lipped smile that expressed polite support, and agreed to assist howsoever the Ministry saw fit. For all the good it would do them.

The only tolerable feature was the presence of Estelle, who had been quietly translating throughout. Rabastan had thought her unusually attractive at the beginning of the meeting. By the end, he'd decided she was truly striking. It was certainly more interesting to watch her than it was to listen to the drivelling old wizards in suits. So his eyes lingered on her intermittently, with steely glances that exuded masculine arrogance. He did not need a woman's permission to look.

As the day finally concluded, he learned from a colleague that the witch was named 'Rosier'. Realising he already knew her, Rabastan could have laughed. But mostly, he wondered when Evan's sister had turned into this siren. He held back as they left, catching her in the foyer.

"Estelle, isn't it? How is your brother? I've been meaning to visit him."

[dahliaxgreengrass]

Dahlia could see the look of pleasure on Rabastan's face. She was proud. Any time she could bring him pleasure was a win for the witch. And she was able to do so in a variety of ways. Through violence. Through conversation. And through sex. He did the same for her -- not an easy task. They were a good pair that made a lot of sense even if their "relationship" was held in secret. Rabastan was worth it. He was handsome, full of vigor and clever.

"You make a very good point, Rabastan. I'm not so easy as to be motivated by a simple smile," except perhaps by him, but she would never admit that out loud. "I like to think I always do plenty. I never do anything carelessly. I'm glad you have picked up on that." Dahlia raised one side of her mouth thinking of all the times the two had spent together, no matter what they were doing.

"Home all night by yourself? That's such a shame," she shook her head then dropped it with a smile. "Well, if you care to wait for a few minutes I'm willing to close up the shop and come along with you. Then you won't have to be alone at all."

Rabastan was pleased by her reaction, his eyes shifting away from hers to indulgently rake that delicious, sly smile. She was a delicate little thing. He would have found her attractive in any case, but the fact that such a pretty creature was capable of savage acts only drew him closer. Rabastan cherished purity. But there was beauty in its desecration, too.

Her words amused him. They were far beyond the formality of using surnames, but he was content to follow suit. "I doubt you'd be so easily swayed by a smile, Miss Greengrass," he responded, smiling all the more. It was an empty sort of mirth, expanding cruelly over his countenance. "You've done plenty, as well you know. I'll be home all evening. Unless you'd like to go elsewhere?" It wasn't just about sex. He considered her a friend and intended to find out how she'd been since they'd last met.

[dahliaxgreengrass]

Tilden was out of the store leaving Dahlia to her own devices. It wasn't unusual but she was feeling a tad lonely. Tilden wasn't someone she would normally surround herself with but he gave her a chance she needed. Truth be told, she had fallen in love with the store -- the store, not necessarily the clientele. Dahlia knew she was better than the people that came into the store so she had to fake it to sell potions in order to keep the store open. When she heard the door chime she breathed in deeply and turned to meet their eyes. To her surprise it was Rabastan. Good Rabastan Lestrange.

There was always a bit of him in the back of her mind. Something about Rabastan had gotten under her skin, though obviously in a very, very different way than Tilden. Rabastan was ...Rabastan. Seeing his face put a smile on hers. "Lestrange," she lifted an eyebrow, "what did I do to deserve a smile from you? Using it to your advantage and hopes that I'm free tonight?" Her smile was sly. Though of course she was free.

Starter for: @dahliaxgreengrass At: Slug & Jiggers Apothecary

Since the end of the war, Rabastan had largely isolated himself from other Death Eaters. It was the most prudent course of action. He did not want to be dragged to Azkaban, and he had to distract himself from the outrageous jubilation of the rest of the wizarding world. It angered him to see people rejoicing in the Dark Lord's defeat. So he occupied himself with his work and ignored the malcontent that viciously burned beneath his controlled exterior.

Today, however, he decided to abandon his resolution. He visited Diagon Alley with no other purpose than to check on Dahlia. He had thought of her lately. Pushing a palm against the Apothecary's door, it creaked open, sending the sound of a bell jingling into the musty corners. He found her soon enough, and took a moment to observe her before he spoke. She looked fine. He was glad.

"Hello, Dahlia. Are you busy this evening?" His demeanour was friendly, a smile even etching his lips for a brief moment. But though he had asked a question and would not object to any answer she chose to give, there was a sense of intrinsic expectation in his tone. He was accustomed to getting his own way. "I hope you've been well."