rit4skeeter

[rit4skeeter]

Rita held her breath as he repeated the word - waiting for his answer. She kept her face the sort of playfully neutral it had been before, but she had to admit she was a touch nervous. But his answer was mostly benign, so she cracked a smile. “You work on that, love.” Rita responded, actually hoping he might. It was like a game of chess, and she liked to think they were evenly paired. She had more tricks up her sleeve than most people realized. “I am going to work on this and forget the rest.” She held her drink up in a cheers before taking another sip.

It was entertaining at the least to watch how people reacted to Fenrir - although she had to admit it always came with good service. Rita watched the man pour the drink, lifting an eyebrow at his words. A small snort escaped her and she tapped a finger on the bar. "Hardly." She disagreed, meeting his eyes. "You owed me, my friend. And now you don't." She gestured to the full glass. "We are simply even now." Rita had a small, almost playful smile cross her lips as she challenged him.

[rit4skeeter]

“Well, we wouldn’t want that, would we?” She murmured, laughing lightly. Not that there weren’t other bars to go to - she just didn’t enjoy them nearly as much. No, she wouldn’t cut off her nose to spite her face. Rita had at least learned that lesson already. Her grin grew wider at Alecto’s next comment, watching as she poured their drinks. She shrugged lightly, not going to disagree, before she knocked the shot back.

“Oh, I dunno…. not Ludo?” She rolled her eyes. That was about her only requirement these days. “Oh, love. Ivy is great, but I could not handle the brat.” She scrunched her nose slightly, shaking herself at the mere idea of children. They were fine for other people, more power to them really, but Rita was not a kid person. She was happy with her dog, thank you very much.

“Not a good one, that’s for sure.” Rita quipped back, laughing slightly. It was one of the things she enjoyed most about Alecto - she was usually down for anything. Those were the best kinds of people, in Rita’s opinion. After all, how boring would it be to just sit at home and do the same things all the time? She tilted her head in agreement, grinning coyly. “In a manner of speaking, I suppose. But, I could hardly write an exposé on you, darling.” Although Alecto was definitely correct, it hadn’t been exactly the kind of waste of time Rita had been referring to. Still, it was over, and she was glad to be here instead.  “Let’s start with two and a glass of red and see where the night takes us.” She purred, smirking as she leaned her elbow on the bar as she teased. Although it did make her think of how big her house felt now that it was empty. “Just tell me if something cute walks in, yeah?” She sighed.

[rit4skeeter]

She hmphed slightly at his words but otherwise accepted it. You couldn’t force anyone to be well-read, after all. His tone - completely lost on her. She turned to look at him, intrigued, as he went on. Rita knew Rabastan Lestrange. Well, not personally, but Rita made it a point to know everyone of note. But she knew only snippets of the man. So he had no interest in Armando Dippet, but Dumbledore… well, it just told her what she already figured. Her next book would be even more successful. “Thank you, that’s what I said!” She agreed, half enthusiastic, half exasperated. “You wouldn’t believe the pushback from his little followers.” Her nose scrunched just a bit as a few particular people came to mind. “If he’s so great, what are they so afraid of?” She realized now she was mostly just talking for her own benefit, so she cleared her throat before she went off on too much of a tangent. “I’m not so convinced.”

She shook herself slightly as she came out of the bathroom. She had been flying around for longer than usual, it was harder than one might think to switch between wings and arms. Fluffing her hair, she made her way back over to the main walkway of the Alley, heels tapping along the stones in a steady rhythm as she walked. 

Rita stopped to glance in the window at Flourish and Blott’s - making sure they hadn’t taken her book out of the main display. She smiled as she saw it, satisfied.  Armando Dippet: Master or Moron? A small, satisfied sigh escaped her. “What do you think of a sequel?” She asked the person next to her, tapping her chin. Talking to herself more than anyone, really. “No one’s come out with a good piece on Dumbledore yet. I’m sure there’s loads to be dug up on him.”

[rit4skeeter]

Rita: Are you free tomorrow? Rita: Lunch is on me.

✉ | Pen ⇄ Rita

Rita: Threat? Darling, I'm above such things. Rita: That is simply a fact. Rita: Proof read all you want - even the great Rita Skeeter has editors. Pen: i'm sure Pen: then we have a deal Pen: when exactly will you need me for this interview? and where?

[rit4skeeter]

“I don’t ruin people’s lives, darling.” She answered instantly, used to this sort of critique. Rita turned with a smile, having recognized his voice. Sirius Black. She had no qualms with the man, but was unsurprised the feeling didn’t seem to be mutual. That’s what happens when you look up to people too much, she supposed. “They do it themselves, I just write about it. If you don’t like the facts, then don’t read it. Ignorance is bliss, you know.” She let loose a small, high pitched giggle as she shrugged, turning away from the window to face him fully. 

“Why, that sounds like you know something.” Her eyes sparkled at the back and forth, this was what she enjoyed. “If he’s as good a man as you say than there wouldn’t be any skeletons to dig up, now, would there?” Rita’s smile only grew wider and she tucked her hair behind her ear. “I think the people deserve to know their hero, don’t you?”

She shook herself slightly as she came out of the bathroom. She had been flying around for longer than usual, it was harder than one might think to switch between wings and arms. Fluffing her hair, she made her way back over to the main walkway of the Alley, heels tapping along the stones in a steady rhythm as she walked. 

Rita stopped to glance in the window at Flourish and Blott’s - making sure they hadn’t taken her book out of the main display. She smiled as she saw it, satisfied.  Armando Dippet: Master or Moron? A small, satisfied sigh escaped her. “What do you think of a sequel?” She asked the person next to her, tapping her chin. Talking to herself more than anyone, really. “No one’s come out with a good piece on Dumbledore yet. I’m sure there’s loads to be dug up on him.”

[rit4skeeter]

Rita: Threat? Darling, I'm above such things. Rita: That is simply a fact. Rita: Proof read all you want - even the great Rita Skeeter has editors.

✉ | Pen ⇄ Rita Rita: Then don't Rita: I just thought you'd rather have your say, than let me find out and print it my way Pen: you know better than to threaten me, skeeter Pen: i'll allow it. i'm tired of the questions Pen: i will proof read the final piece before it's sent to print. that is my condition

[rit4skeeter]

Her smile simply widened at his reaction to her company - it was a reaction she had come to appreciate over the years. It almost always signaled someone who had something to hide. Otherwise, people didn’t tend to care about her presence. Still, she would play nice. You caught more flies with sugar, or whatever the saying was.

“I’m sure.” She answered, sounding almost bored. She didn’t want to focus on what had already happened after all. And Regulus was right - his betrayal had been headlines for weeks. Of course she was going to follow that right into his funeral. It wasn’t like Rita was going to go without a paycheck for the sake of common decency. 

Still, hawk like eyes watched him carefully as he glanced back at the stone carved with his own name (how weird that must be). Rita’s instincts told her he was curious, despite his tone. Who wouldn’t be? He hadn’t been allowed there, obviously, and he hadn’t been back from the dead long enough to get the details from anyone else. Rita knew an opportunity when she saw one.

Her eyes met his for a long moment as she considered his question. His mother had been a wreck, yes. A monster, really. But that was to be expected from the elder Blacks. Just the mention of Regulus’ actions, and she was off in a rage - screaming, yelling, crying. Delusional. It had been sad, pitiful. She hadn’t been able to face reality. Of course, Rita betrayed none of this in her expression. She softened her features, dropping her eyes to the headstone as she answered. “She wasn't there.”

Rita had been following him for hours - after all, how could she not? It was one of the biggest news breaks to have come since the end of the war. The favorite son, second traitor to the Black name, was not dead. And the byline hadn't been hers. She wanted the details first.

Of course, she hadn’t been following him on two legs, but two wings. Waiting, watching, trying to see if he would give anything away. Which, it turns out, he didn’t. Regulus was apparently a fairly quiet man, and he surely wasn’t going to divulge any secrets to himself. And that roommate of his….

She ducked behind a statue of an angel and switched back, shaking herself slightly. Pulling a mirror from her purse, she spruced, before stepping out into the graveyard proper. The stick had been on purpose. She had learned many ways not to give away her secret, and bumbling and drawing attention to her movements was always effective.

“Darling, I don't need announcing.” She purred, a slight echo of her words bouncing off the stones as she spoke louder than him. She met his eyes, steps stopping just a few feet from him. “Just came to pay my respects.” Rita gestured to his own headstone, an impish smile on her lips. She paused only for a second, not long enough to invite a response. "I was at your funeral, you know."

[rit4skeeter]

Rita: Then don't Rita: I just thought you'd rather have your say, than let me find out and print it my way

✉ | Pen ⇄ Rita Rita: Oh, you think? Rita: Well, why don't you fill me in then? Rita: I'd be glad to tell everyone just how wrong I was if you give me the proof of it. Pen: i know Pen: why should i reward you for it? Pen: i'm familiar with your typical work

[rit4skeeter]

Rita: So close. Rita: Anyway, you really think I would go through the trouble? Rita: I know you think the world revolves around you, darling, but I don't think about you half as much as you seem to think I do.

✉ | Ludo ⇄ Rita

Rita: Darling, I know it's hard but I thought you were getting better at reading? Rita: I only said one of those things. Rita: I merely passed the other along. Rita: Must have disappointed someone else this time, love. Ludo: I might be dumb but im not stupid Ludo: it was sent in ANONOMUSLY Ludo: which means anyone could have sent it, including you Ludo: also ur the only person that calls it a ween

[rit4skeeter]

Rita: Oh, you think? Rita: Well, why don't you fill me in then? Rita: I'd be glad to tell everyone just how wrong I was if you give me the proof of it.

✉ | Pen ⇄ Rita Rita: Does that take up much of your time? Rita: I wouldn't know, clearly. Rita: Don't be cross, love. This is an easy fix. Pen: clearly there’s plenty you don't know Pen: how do you plan to fix it?

[rit4skeeter]

Rita: Darling, I know it's hard but I thought you were getting better at reading? Rita: I only said one of those things. Rita: I merely passed the other along. Rita: Must have disappointed someone else this time, love.

✉ | Ludo ⇄ Rita

Ludo: are u for real Ludo: first telling people I have a small dick Ludo: now that I'm in love with myself??

[rit4skeeter]

“Yes, just business.” She said pointedly, a small smirk toying just at the edge of her lips, but she held it back. “Need I remind you that I was once the headline as well?” She raised an eyebrow, insinuating that if Rita could handle it (and Rita had had much harder things to swallow printed about her - her love life and failure therein splashed across the pages) than Dahlia should be able to as well. She nodded her thanks with a soft smile to the waitress, pausing as she dropped their drinks at the table.

But as the waitress left and Dahlia went on, it started to annoy her. Honestly, who cared about a little thing like boring? It wasn’t as if Rita had told the world she had house elf blood or something. "If it's such rubbish then why do you care?" She challenged silkily, tone just as neutral as before although she had dropped her voice lower. Rita was used to this - it never bothered her before, and it wouldn't now. But she also wasn't about to simply roll over and let Dahlia berate her as she threw her little tantrum. Rita was proud of her work, regardless of what anyone had to say about it - and she worked her ass off to be where she was. And if Dahlia wanted to get so upset over nothing, than let her. Rita would sleep just the same tonight for it. Yes, she had thought of her as a friend, of sorts, but it wouldn't be the first friend who couldn't handle it.

She leaned back, swirling her wine around the inside of her glass and watching as it left trails down the side. She took a sip, sighing contentedly, and watched Dahlia over the top of her glass, unblinking.

Rita nodded, not picking up on the tone as Dahlia gave her her order. She relayed it to the waitress as they came over, ordering herself a large glass of red wine. Her gaze snapped back to Dahlia at her next words, her eyes curious. But then she saw the Prophet in her hands, open to her own column, and she smiled. 

“Oh, darling. Don’t tell me you’re mad about that?” She brushed it off, waving her hand slightly between them. “That’s just business. To the Prophet, anyone they can’t write about is boring. They like people who make them rich.” Her use of the word they was a bit of an overreach really, it was likely not a secret that that was more her own line of thinking. Still, even Rita could separate work from personal life. Not that she wasn’t willing to blend the two when it suited her. “If I didn’t think positively of you I wouldn’t have bothered sitting down.” She shrugged slightly, crossing her legs under the table. Clearly, she likely wouldn’t be getting anything out of this conversation, but she still had time to kill and a glass of wine to drink. She might as well get comfortable.

She smirked slightly, eyes glittering as she leaned forward just a little. “You could always prove me wrong, you know.” Rita mused, voice half teasing. “I could print a correction. I’m not above admitting when I’m mistaken.”

[rit4skeeter]

[rit4skeeter]

[rit4skeeter]

She had been trying to take the day off - not that she was very good at it. But still, determined, she had gone for a run, cooked her own breakfast (and discovered she had avoided it all these years for a very good reason), and been bored my mid-morning. Taking Brisket to the dog park had been a good idea, but he tired himself out faster than she did, and unsure what else to do, she had decided to take him shopping. 

She was busy looking at a stall of fast drying inks and self writing quills when there was a sharp tug at the leash, almost pulling her sideways, and she felt Brisket’s fur against her legs. Glancing down, the dog had all his fur along his spine raised, ears pinned back…. protecting her? Eyebrows thoroughly furrowed, she glanced around, holding her hair out of her face. 

Her eyes landed on Remus and she grinned wickedly, patting Brisket with a murmured “good boy’ before straightening up and letting her shoulders relax. “Well, well…” She drawled, crossing her arms over her chest. “And here you thought it'd be me spilling your little secret.” She licked her lips, chuckling, speaking low enough that only Remus could hear her.

@wolfinsheepsclothes

[rit4skeeter]

Rita had been following him for hours - after all, how could she not? It was one of the biggest news breaks to have come since the end of the war. The favorite son, second traitor to the Black name, was not dead. And the byline hadn't been hers. She wanted the details first.

Of course, she hadn’t been following him on two legs, but two wings. Waiting, watching, trying to see if he would give anything away. Which, it turns out, he didn’t. Regulus was apparently a fairly quiet man, and he surely wasn’t going to divulge any secrets to himself. And that roommate of his….

She ducked behind a statue of an angel and switched back, shaking herself slightly. Pulling a mirror from her purse, she spruced, before stepping out into the graveyard proper. The stick had been on purpose. She had learned many ways not to give away her secret, and bumbling and drawing attention to her movements was always effective.

“Darling, I don't need announcing.” She purred, a slight echo of her words bouncing off the stones as she spoke louder than him. She met his eyes, steps stopping just a few feet from him. “Just came to pay my respects.” Rita gestured to his own headstone, an impish smile on her lips. She paused only for a second, not long enough to invite a response. "I was at your funeral, you know."

Location: Godricks Hollow - Graveyard

Open: Everyone

Precious son, Beloved Black.

The script under his name was odd to read. Precious son. Perious. It actually made Regulus laugh a bit. However, he didn't smile as the amused sound left his throat. Rubbing his hand across his chin, his fingers shaking lightly he looked over his own headstone once more. It was jarring to see. His name is carved into the black stone and those little lies in such pretty script below them. The only thing that had ever been precious about Regulus, at least as far as his parents were concerned, was his ability to carry the Black name forward. Of all his blood relatives, they could be left in the dark about his resurrection the longest. However, if they knew he had betrayed the Death Eaters and played a hand in reducing Tom to ash then they probably wouldn't want anything to do with him. Which, was best for everyone. Lifting his chin slightly, Regulus was about to stop pitying himself and go when he heard the crack of a branch behind him. Looking over his shoulder, his gaze near lazy, Regulus let his green eyes drift to whoever was behind him. "If you are trying to get the jump on me that was a pathetic excuse for sneaking." He drawled. "If not-" Regulus shrugged, "Maybe annonce yourself before wallking up behind someone."

[rit4skeeter]

Rita nodded, not picking up on the tone as Dahlia gave her her order. She relayed it to the waitress as they came over, ordering herself a large glass of red wine. Her gaze snapped back to Dahlia at her next words, her eyes curious. But then she saw the Prophet in her hands, open to her own column, and she smiled. 

“Oh, darling. Don’t tell me you’re mad about that?” She brushed it off, waving her hand slightly between them. “That’s just business. To the Prophet, anyone they can’t write about is boring. They like people who make them rich.” Her use of the word they was a bit of an overreach really, it was likely not a secret that that was more her own line of thinking. Still, even Rita could separate work from personal life. Not that she wasn’t willing to blend the two when it suited her. “If I didn’t think positively of you I wouldn’t have bothered sitting down.” She shrugged slightly, crossing her legs under the table. Clearly, she likely wouldn’t be getting anything out of this conversation, but she still had time to kill and a glass of wine to drink. She might as well get comfortable.

She smirked slightly, eyes glittering as she leaned forward just a little. “You could always prove me wrong, you know.” Rita mused, voice half teasing. “I could print a correction. I’m not above admitting when I’m mistaken.”

Not used to being anything less than the center of attention, Rita didn’t miss how Dahlia looked disappointed to see her. Usually, she would let it ruffle her feathers, but she wasn’t sure she cared enough about what the other thought of her (Did she really care what anyone thought of her?). She wanted the company, and honestly, she could do worse than Dahlia. She wasn’t about to turn her nose up at a decent conversation.

Rita nodded once, accepting the invitation of sorts, before sitting down. She placed her purse and coat next to her primly, leaning an elbow on the table and her chin on a freshly manicured hand with a small sigh. “How have you been, darling? It has been a while, hasn’t it?” She flagged down a waitress, lifting an eyebrow as she looked at Dahlia’s glass of water. “What do you want? It’s on me - and then you can tell me who you’re waiting so… patiently for.”