RP: A Moment of Violence
Characters: Rodolphus Lestrange, Rabastan Lestrange (NPC),
Date: June 21st, 2000
Location: The Flat
Status/Rating: Private / Lots of swearing
Summary: Nothing ever goes as planned.
Completion: Complete
Rodolphus met Dreizhen at one of the safe-houses because Rabastan would never have him in the flat. Their little smuggle-and-disguise operation had been going well for a while now, in fact, it was nearly done. He needed to make two more trips back across the channel in Nessy and that would end it. So far everyone was doing a good job at laying low.
Which was why the owl had been a very, very unwelcome surprise. Not that any surprise was welcome. And now Rod carried the news he had to back to the flat--and Rabastan, who was bound to be over-joyed--with Bella twittering and cackling to herself the whole way.
Rabastan was doing what he always seemed to do on a weekend--sit with a stolen Prophet and a bottle of brandy. Sometimes Rod wondered if there wasn't some convulted drinking game going on. Unfortunately, Bella beat him to the pleasantries.
"Some-one's about-to-have-their-day-ruuuiinned." Bellatrix chimed in a girlish sing-song voice.
As was typical, Rabastan barely acknowledged the ghostly voice, instead lighting a cigarette and taking a long, lazy drag before blowing the smoke out again. "The puppies behaving?"
Somewhere in the corner of the kitchen, Bellatrix burst into uncontrolled laughter.
"Fuck off," Rod grated in the direction of the kitchen before turning his brother with a growl. "No. Four went rogue right after getting transfigured last night. Dreizhen tried to catch them but he didn't want to risk anything that would alert the aurors."
"Fuck this for a game of soliders!" Rabastan swore, surging to his feet with a number of more choice words directed at Rodolphus, the werewolves and the Universe as a whole. He grabbed his coat from the back of the couch.
"Where are you going?" Rodolphus asked, his voice low.
"I figured a bar first, then to that precious little boat of yours. I told you I wanted a way off the damn island." Rabastan was having none of this. He knew it was a bad idea, it was the definition of bad idea, as far as he was concerned, and now he was, for lack of a better word: out. Done. Fuck it all and let it hang. Rodolphus had strung their nooses and Rabastan could feel the boxes under their feet swaying.
He was done with it, psychotic harridan ghosts and all.
"Rabastan, it's nothing that won't take care of itself." Rod had thought about this all the way back, they could handle it; they had to.
"Oh, that's a fucking brilliant assessment." But Rabastan wasn't making a move towards the door. He reached for the brandy, foretting about the glass and drank right from the bottle. "I'm sure the Aurors will agree with you. Christ Rodolphus, you had to avenge the fucking mongrel, didn't you?!" He was pacing and swearing now, sucking down his cigarette to a stub before vanishing it and lighting another. It was taking every bit of dwindling seld control he had not to hit his own brother. He'd need to break something, though, that was for damn certain.
"I told you from the beginning you didn't need to have anything to do with it!" Rod shot back, expecting any minute for Bellatrix to chime in, but apparently she was enjoying herself too much to say anything.
Rabastan took another swig from the bottle and stopped pacing. He couldn't have left Rod alone. He was not going to deal with the consequences of having a half-breed brother, and Rodolphus knew that. It didn't even warrant repeating. Where one went, the other followed, but since when had Rabastan been the one following...?
"I'm heading out." Rabastan grated, figuring to find the first unsuspecting muggle and get about the only thing that could dispell this much reage. He needed to see blood and he didn't want it to be Rodolphus's. Not that he'd admit that to himself at the moment.
Rod's brows furrowed. This was a short tantrum even for Rabastan, but in the end, he nodded. They had the mirrors, and even this angry he trusted his brother to be discrete in his wallowing and anger management.
He kept his eyes on the door long after it slammed shut, the sound rousing Midian from her perch down the hall. The bird lighted silently on Rodolphus's shoulder, immediately sensing the tension and unease that lingered long after all other sound had faded.
Date: June 21st, 2000
Location: The Flat
Status/Rating: Private / Lots of swearing
Summary: Nothing ever goes as planned.
Completion: Complete
Rodolphus met Dreizhen at one of the safe-houses because Rabastan would never have him in the flat. Their little smuggle-and-disguise operation had been going well for a while now, in fact, it was nearly done. He needed to make two more trips back across the channel in Nessy and that would end it. So far everyone was doing a good job at laying low.
Which was why the owl had been a very, very unwelcome surprise. Not that any surprise was welcome. And now Rod carried the news he had to back to the flat--and Rabastan, who was bound to be over-joyed--with Bella twittering and cackling to herself the whole way.
Rabastan was doing what he always seemed to do on a weekend--sit with a stolen Prophet and a bottle of brandy. Sometimes Rod wondered if there wasn't some convulted drinking game going on. Unfortunately, Bella beat him to the pleasantries.
"Some-one's about-to-have-their-day-ruuuiinned." Bellatrix chimed in a girlish sing-song voice.
As was typical, Rabastan barely acknowledged the ghostly voice, instead lighting a cigarette and taking a long, lazy drag before blowing the smoke out again. "The puppies behaving?"
Somewhere in the corner of the kitchen, Bellatrix burst into uncontrolled laughter.
"Fuck off," Rod grated in the direction of the kitchen before turning his brother with a growl. "No. Four went rogue right after getting transfigured last night. Dreizhen tried to catch them but he didn't want to risk anything that would alert the aurors."
"Fuck this for a game of soliders!" Rabastan swore, surging to his feet with a number of more choice words directed at Rodolphus, the werewolves and the Universe as a whole. He grabbed his coat from the back of the couch.
"Where are you going?" Rodolphus asked, his voice low.
"I figured a bar first, then to that precious little boat of yours. I told you I wanted a way off the damn island." Rabastan was having none of this. He knew it was a bad idea, it was the definition of bad idea, as far as he was concerned, and now he was, for lack of a better word: out. Done. Fuck it all and let it hang. Rodolphus had strung their nooses and Rabastan could feel the boxes under their feet swaying.
He was done with it, psychotic harridan ghosts and all.
"Rabastan, it's nothing that won't take care of itself." Rod had thought about this all the way back, they could handle it; they had to.
"Oh, that's a fucking brilliant assessment." But Rabastan wasn't making a move towards the door. He reached for the brandy, foretting about the glass and drank right from the bottle. "I'm sure the Aurors will agree with you. Christ Rodolphus, you had to avenge the fucking mongrel, didn't you?!" He was pacing and swearing now, sucking down his cigarette to a stub before vanishing it and lighting another. It was taking every bit of dwindling seld control he had not to hit his own brother. He'd need to break something, though, that was for damn certain.
"I told you from the beginning you didn't need to have anything to do with it!" Rod shot back, expecting any minute for Bellatrix to chime in, but apparently she was enjoying herself too much to say anything.
Rabastan took another swig from the bottle and stopped pacing. He couldn't have left Rod alone. He was not going to deal with the consequences of having a half-breed brother, and Rodolphus knew that. It didn't even warrant repeating. Where one went, the other followed, but since when had Rabastan been the one following...?
"I'm heading out." Rabastan grated, figuring to find the first unsuspecting muggle and get about the only thing that could dispell this much reage. He needed to see blood and he didn't want it to be Rodolphus's. Not that he'd admit that to himself at the moment.
Rod's brows furrowed. This was a short tantrum even for Rabastan, but in the end, he nodded. They had the mirrors, and even this angry he trusted his brother to be discrete in his wallowing and anger management.
He kept his eyes on the door long after it slammed shut, the sound rousing Midian from her perch down the hall. The bird lighted silently on Rodolphus's shoulder, immediately sensing the tension and unease that lingered long after all other sound had faded.