(Untitled)

[lestrangestone]

Who: Bellatrix lestrangestone , Heine stray_gunner 
When: Sometime after this post
Where: Just outside the Outlander Block.
Format: I'll start with paragraph, but I'm adaptable?
What: Bella's skulking around. Apparently so is Heine?
Warnings: Possible (ha!) violence.

Comments

[stray_gunner]

It's cool outside - chilly, almost, and enough to make him pull on a jacket that partially obscures the guns hanging off of the back of his belt. Heine doesn't mind most weather, really. Resistance to illness came with the package, the whole spine implant

[lestrangestone]

She turns, caught off guard by the presence of another, and ...unused to being caught off guard, as such.

Heel prodding one more time against the crisp-cut edge of a pinstriped hem, before she steps the slightest bit toward the ...boy?

More than a boy, perhaps? Yes. Young man, older than Draco. Thin. So pale. Almost ghostly in the darkness here. And doing what? Skulking about under cover of night? Unafraid?

It was becoming (painfully?) clear to her that this was not the world she knew.

Forge in one hand, screen dark and silent, and her eyes flicker over it before catching the young man's gaze. Fingers of her other hand twitching against her wand.

"How did I kill him. I'm not sure I did ...entirely. He left the game early. Spoilsport."

She pouts, holds out her forge, and tilting her head a fraction, asks "...can you put the pieces back together again?"

[stray_gunner]

Heine's eyes narrow, red and almost gleaming in the darkness. They focus easily on the woman - senses trained to zero in on an opponent, on prey.

You should kill her now, the dog says almost thoughtfully. But he knows that the dog doesn't think, it only moves and rips people (a girl) to shreds.

So he shrugs uncomfortably, trying to get rid of the twinge of pain (almost ticklish, almost playful) from his back.

"Maybe he didn't want to play," he points out, hooking his thumb through a belt loop. "Maybe he thought you... didn't play fair."

The black dog laughs and whispers something, you don't play fair either, and he sighs quietly, maybe at the voice, maybe at the broken Forge.

"I'm not the best at doing stuff like that. You could just ask on the - no, wait, if it's broken, then - just ask around. I'm not your caretaker, do it yourself." He frowns, conscious of the fact that he's talking to a killer. Admittedly, it's true the other way around, but he can tell that this woman is even less stable than he is - at the moment.

[lestrangestone]

She watches his face change. The subtleties beneath the skin, and the incarnadine glow of his eyes. The eyes. They almost remind her of someone.

In the end they don't, because she's distracted. Uncomfortable. She's not used to feeling ...afraid?

No. Impossible again. Not here. This was nothing but a test.

"I asked this man." She lets the wand (not hers, not fitting in her palm as it should) point toward the corpse as she takes another step in the pale boy's direction. "I asked him ...several times. Do you know, he almost seemed ...afraid of this little thing?" Fingers closing around the forge again.

A puff of cold air from her nostrils as she blinks. She arches a brow at his impertinence. His---

Lack of respect."Myself? Why should I? It's clearly not magical. It's ...something else." And she almost trails off completely, her gaze dropping for just a moment as her voice lowers to an irritated whisper, " Are you of noble blood? Even so, you'd do well to respect your elders, child