Post by Rabastan Ashmedai Lestrange on Feb 1, 2018 18:16:00 GMT -5
Rabastan Ashmedia Lestrange
by Jade
67
age
Male
gender
10/26/1951
birthday
blood status
pureblood, sacred 28sexual orientation
Heterosexual
epidemic x status
Infected
occupation
Head of Research at the Lestrange Foundation
Vice Chairman of the Board of the Lestrange Foundation
Co-owner of Puddlemere United
Former Head of the Hit Wizard Training Program ('17-'19)
Former Hit Wizard ('17-'19)
Owner of the Coffin House
Necromancer
Death Eater
Vice Chairman of the Board of the Lestrange Foundation
Co-owner of Puddlemere United
Former Head of the Hit Wizard Training Program ('17-'19)
Former Hit Wizard ('17-'19)
Owner of the Coffin House
Necromancer
Death Eater
general appearance
Battle-scarred, prison-tatted, but still blessed with his pureblood genetics, Rabastan has aged well. At first glance, little sets him apart from his elder brother--they both share great resemblance to their father. But once you get closer, Rabastan's piercing gaze contrasts to the hard looks his brother might give. The cold arctic sea blue of his eyes can be so bright, filled with animation after a vial of that perfect little yellow euphoria draught---or harsh and distance, if he has succumb to a period of catatonia. He is much less likely to slip into that catatonic state now that the is living a more proper life, once more. Rabastan is more and more like himself before prison each day.
former school
Hogwartsformer house
Slytherinachievements
Dueling (2nd-5th), Potions (1st-7th) and Wizarding Chess (1st-3rd) Club Member
Dueling (6th-7th) and Wizarding Chess (4th-7th) Club Leader
Dueling (6th-7th) and Wizarding Chess (4th-7th) Club Leader
university
Lufkin University
Şolomanţă
Şolomanţă
university major(s)
Potionlogy & Psychology
Necromancy
Necromancy
years attended
1970-1974
1974-1976
1974-1976
skills
DARK MAGIC ⥊ GAMBLING ⥊ INTELLIGENT ⥊ NECROMANCY ⥊ PSYCHOLOGY ⥊ POTIONOLOGY ⥊ WANDLESS
weaknesses
ADDICTION ⥊ ANGER ⥊ BELLATRIX ⥊ LOVE ⥊ MENTAL ILLNESS ⥊ PRISON SCARS
positive traits
Comfortable in his own skin ⥊ Proud ⥊ Shameless ⥊ Intense ⥊ Intelligent ⥊ Curious ⥊ Caring, to those who merit it
negative traits
Conscienceless ⥊ Damaged ⥊ Deviant ⥊ Bloodthirsty ⥊ Violent ⥊ Prejudicial towards the impure, the poor, vamps, weres, giants, the non-magical, and the list goes on and on ⥊ Scarred ⥊ Bitter ⥊ Unforgiving ⥊ Selfish ⥊ Tendency to fall in love with his brother's wife
hobbies/interests
Necromancy ⥊ Offensive Dark Magic ⥊ Gambling ⥊ Singing ⥊ Drinking ⥊ Potion brewing ⥊ Experimenting ⥊ Psychology
accomplishments
Decades spent in Azkaban
character history
Rabastan came into this world a murderer-- Or so his father always said. The young woman who gave life to him passed away during the multi-day horrific event of his birth. She suffered for days before he left her womb and the damage the birth had caused to her took her from this world. Rabastan has no memory of her, obviously, but always carried the weight of her death. He grew up the less favored son and while that could translate to violent mistreatment from the patriarch of their family from time to time...Most often the disdain his father felt towards him manifested itself in the boy being ignored.
The two years that Rodolphus was away at Hogwarts before Rabastan joined him at school were very difficult for the young boy. From August until December the first year, he saw no one and spoke to no one except for the house elves that cared for him and the familial home. His father departed with Rodolphus to the train station and did not return until Rod came home for Christmas break. The pattern repeated itself for spring term and the following year's schooling as well.
His birth falling in October meant that he turned eleven nearly a year before he began his schooling. It was miserable for him. The wait... And then finally, the time came for him to journey to Diagon Alley and retrieve his supplies--and, of course, his wand.
Possession of his conduit was short-lived, though, for the boy. Upon returning to the Manor, his father took it. Several days passed, then the old man called his second son into his study. A pretty little girl cowered in the corner. Rabastan found her so beautiful. The childish innocence in him fell in love with her rosy cheeks and blonde curls. Then his father told him that the girl was beneath him--nothing more than an animal. He told him that she was a muggle. Rabastan had never met a muggle before and truly saw no difference between the girl and the Black sisters that he and his brother occasionally shared time with at purist gatherings. He said nothing of this aloud. He wanted to look like a big man for his father. He wanted the man's approval desperately. So, when the older man produced Rabastan's wand and placed it in his small hand, he did not need the instructions to know what to do. But still they came. Two simple words: 'kill it'.
Rab was just a child. He knew nothing of Unforgivables, beyond whispers of dark magic that their parents practiced among the children he had grown up with. But his house elf keepers used a wandless incantation each morning to light the fire in his fireplace. Incendio--he knew nothing of the wand motion that was needed or anything really about the charm, but his whole being was fixated on creating fire. So, when that incantation fell from his lips, his wand extended towards the girl--she burst into flames. It took several castings of the spell to silence her screams. When he finished, there was little left to prove she had ever been within the house--only ashes and scorch marks. He had not faltered, even as she screamed and writhed about--even as the bindings his father had used to restrain her burnt away and she reached out towards him.
Just as regret, guilt, and remorse were beginning to take hold of the boy, those feelings were wholly undermined by the first praise he had ever received from his father. Rabastan was clapped on the back and told he had done his old man proud. The kind words flowed from the tongue that had only lashed out at Rabastan before this moment. There was even warmth in his father's eyes--and a SMILE! The first smile Rabastan could remember earning. The recognition as a son set him on a path into darkness--
Soon after, he departed for Hogwarts. His Sorting was one of the shortest of the year. The Hat was barely lifted towards it stand and moved in his general direction before Slytherin rang out over the Great Hall. His years at Hogwarts were spent terrorizing the impure, fucking anything that would slow down, and sneaking into the Restricted Section anytime he could to learn about the types of magic he actually excelled at and was interested in: Necromancy, Blood Magick, and other Dark Arts.
He was abysmal at COMC, Divination, Arithmancy, Astronomy, Herbology, and History. His Transfiguration skills were nothing to brag about. His potioneering capacity, though, was not half bad. He had a knack for figuring out little tricks that could improve a potion. The wizard continued to hone those skills throughout his life, but focusing only on intoxicants and poisons. His best subjects though were always Charms--and perhaps to many peoples surprise, Ancient Runes. He took an interest in the old languages, because so many of the dark arts scrolls and texts in the Lestrange library and the Restricted Section were written in the old tongues.
It was his fourth year at Hogwarts when he first bed a witch...and that witch was none other than Bellatrix Black. She enjoyed toying with him, leading him on, using him against his brother. He didn't care. She was as wild as he--and far from virginal when she took his innocence in the Forbidden Forest. Their affair never evolved into emotional attachment--though he idolized her, much as he idolized Rodolphus. They were so strong--and fierce. There were many more witches and wizards that came after the brunette beauty. Some by choice, many by force.
His father never expected much of Rabastan. He only needed not embarrass the Lestrange line by sullying himself with those beneath them. His prejudice grew year after year, built up by his arrogance and the lessons imparted to him by brother and father. The responsibility of the family fell onto Rodolphus's shoulders. It was he who dealt with finances and the like.
After graduation, there was no real career for the wizard. Why work when the Lestrange vaults were filled already? He had little responsibility and spent his days drinking, fucking, and murdering. It was everything the man wanted from life. Rabastan followed his father and his brother into the Dark Lord's service. He never really embraced Voldemort as the god that Bellatrix saw him as, but was very loyal to the Death Eaters, because of his loyalty to his family and to her. He exhibited a knack for torture. The wizard had a flair about him--an artistic touch that would leave the most beautiful macabre scenes for law enforcement.
Azkaban, in the beginning, was horrible. He suffered through horrible withdrawals. It was miserable. He could not adjust to the constant freezing cold of that hell-hole. But in time, he adjusted. It was easier because Bella and Rod were there. He was the trusted and devoted right hand for his brother. As Rodolphus rose up and took control of the prisoners, Rabastan rose with him. It was in prison that Rodolphus began to share his wandless knowledge with Rabastan. The younger Lestrange did not ever master the same skill level of his brother, but could manage conjuration by the time they were freed the first time around.
He hardly remembers that brief escapade back into the 'real' world. It was so brief...and the moments when he was not doing the Dark Lord's will, he was buried in between a whore's thighs, experiencing every elixir that the dark markets had to provide him with. It was a good time, what he can recall of it. But then, it was back to Azkaban.
The adjustment to incarceration was much easier the second time. It helped that the Dementors were gone. The prison still had a chill about it, but he and his brother returned as leaders among the prisoners. Those who had stepped up in their absence abdicated all authority on their return. It was an easy life. He had lovers and intoxicants of various types available to him, despite being within the prison. There is always a black market--and being at the top of the food chain meant first choice always went to the Lestrange brothers.
It was Rodolphus that wanted to leave the prison and join the work camp. Rabastan was too lazy and comfortable in his life behind bars to really see the appeal... But the whispers of a new rebellion did excite him. The opportunity to make use of his old talents was quire appealing. Plus, there was nowhere that he would not follow his brother.
It seemed to be the right decision in the end. The increased Death Eater and purist presence outside the walls of Azkaban allowed for the uprising, with it's questionable leadership, to overthrow Durant. Rabastan did his part, both in raising Inferi for the Death Eaters and in claiming as many lives as he was able to in the attacks and ultimate coup.
The Lestrange was quick to sow seeds of discord amongst the true purists against Ares. He thought the man had no right or authority that merited his station as leader of their movement. He came out in blatant support of Andromeda.
The two years that Rodolphus was away at Hogwarts before Rabastan joined him at school were very difficult for the young boy. From August until December the first year, he saw no one and spoke to no one except for the house elves that cared for him and the familial home. His father departed with Rodolphus to the train station and did not return until Rod came home for Christmas break. The pattern repeated itself for spring term and the following year's schooling as well.
His birth falling in October meant that he turned eleven nearly a year before he began his schooling. It was miserable for him. The wait... And then finally, the time came for him to journey to Diagon Alley and retrieve his supplies--and, of course, his wand.
Possession of his conduit was short-lived, though, for the boy. Upon returning to the Manor, his father took it. Several days passed, then the old man called his second son into his study. A pretty little girl cowered in the corner. Rabastan found her so beautiful. The childish innocence in him fell in love with her rosy cheeks and blonde curls. Then his father told him that the girl was beneath him--nothing more than an animal. He told him that she was a muggle. Rabastan had never met a muggle before and truly saw no difference between the girl and the Black sisters that he and his brother occasionally shared time with at purist gatherings. He said nothing of this aloud. He wanted to look like a big man for his father. He wanted the man's approval desperately. So, when the older man produced Rabastan's wand and placed it in his small hand, he did not need the instructions to know what to do. But still they came. Two simple words: 'kill it'.
Rab was just a child. He knew nothing of Unforgivables, beyond whispers of dark magic that their parents practiced among the children he had grown up with. But his house elf keepers used a wandless incantation each morning to light the fire in his fireplace. Incendio--he knew nothing of the wand motion that was needed or anything really about the charm, but his whole being was fixated on creating fire. So, when that incantation fell from his lips, his wand extended towards the girl--she burst into flames. It took several castings of the spell to silence her screams. When he finished, there was little left to prove she had ever been within the house--only ashes and scorch marks. He had not faltered, even as she screamed and writhed about--even as the bindings his father had used to restrain her burnt away and she reached out towards him.
Just as regret, guilt, and remorse were beginning to take hold of the boy, those feelings were wholly undermined by the first praise he had ever received from his father. Rabastan was clapped on the back and told he had done his old man proud. The kind words flowed from the tongue that had only lashed out at Rabastan before this moment. There was even warmth in his father's eyes--and a SMILE! The first smile Rabastan could remember earning. The recognition as a son set him on a path into darkness--
Soon after, he departed for Hogwarts. His Sorting was one of the shortest of the year. The Hat was barely lifted towards it stand and moved in his general direction before Slytherin rang out over the Great Hall. His years at Hogwarts were spent terrorizing the impure, fucking anything that would slow down, and sneaking into the Restricted Section anytime he could to learn about the types of magic he actually excelled at and was interested in: Necromancy, Blood Magick, and other Dark Arts.
He was abysmal at COMC, Divination, Arithmancy, Astronomy, Herbology, and History. His Transfiguration skills were nothing to brag about. His potioneering capacity, though, was not half bad. He had a knack for figuring out little tricks that could improve a potion. The wizard continued to hone those skills throughout his life, but focusing only on intoxicants and poisons. His best subjects though were always Charms--and perhaps to many peoples surprise, Ancient Runes. He took an interest in the old languages, because so many of the dark arts scrolls and texts in the Lestrange library and the Restricted Section were written in the old tongues.
It was his fourth year at Hogwarts when he first bed a witch...and that witch was none other than Bellatrix Black. She enjoyed toying with him, leading him on, using him against his brother. He didn't care. She was as wild as he--and far from virginal when she took his innocence in the Forbidden Forest. Their affair never evolved into emotional attachment--though he idolized her, much as he idolized Rodolphus. They were so strong--and fierce. There were many more witches and wizards that came after the brunette beauty. Some by choice, many by force.
His father never expected much of Rabastan. He only needed not embarrass the Lestrange line by sullying himself with those beneath them. His prejudice grew year after year, built up by his arrogance and the lessons imparted to him by brother and father. The responsibility of the family fell onto Rodolphus's shoulders. It was he who dealt with finances and the like.
After graduation, there was no real career for the wizard. Why work when the Lestrange vaults were filled already? He had little responsibility and spent his days drinking, fucking, and murdering. It was everything the man wanted from life. Rabastan followed his father and his brother into the Dark Lord's service. He never really embraced Voldemort as the god that Bellatrix saw him as, but was very loyal to the Death Eaters, because of his loyalty to his family and to her. He exhibited a knack for torture. The wizard had a flair about him--an artistic touch that would leave the most beautiful macabre scenes for law enforcement.
Azkaban, in the beginning, was horrible. He suffered through horrible withdrawals. It was miserable. He could not adjust to the constant freezing cold of that hell-hole. But in time, he adjusted. It was easier because Bella and Rod were there. He was the trusted and devoted right hand for his brother. As Rodolphus rose up and took control of the prisoners, Rabastan rose with him. It was in prison that Rodolphus began to share his wandless knowledge with Rabastan. The younger Lestrange did not ever master the same skill level of his brother, but could manage conjuration by the time they were freed the first time around.
He hardly remembers that brief escapade back into the 'real' world. It was so brief...and the moments when he was not doing the Dark Lord's will, he was buried in between a whore's thighs, experiencing every elixir that the dark markets had to provide him with. It was a good time, what he can recall of it. But then, it was back to Azkaban.
The adjustment to incarceration was much easier the second time. It helped that the Dementors were gone. The prison still had a chill about it, but he and his brother returned as leaders among the prisoners. Those who had stepped up in their absence abdicated all authority on their return. It was an easy life. He had lovers and intoxicants of various types available to him, despite being within the prison. There is always a black market--and being at the top of the food chain meant first choice always went to the Lestrange brothers.
It was Rodolphus that wanted to leave the prison and join the work camp. Rabastan was too lazy and comfortable in his life behind bars to really see the appeal... But the whispers of a new rebellion did excite him. The opportunity to make use of his old talents was quire appealing. Plus, there was nowhere that he would not follow his brother.
It seemed to be the right decision in the end. The increased Death Eater and purist presence outside the walls of Azkaban allowed for the uprising, with it's questionable leadership, to overthrow Durant. Rabastan did his part, both in raising Inferi for the Death Eaters and in claiming as many lives as he was able to in the attacks and ultimate coup.
The Lestrange was quick to sow seeds of discord amongst the true purists against Ares. He thought the man had no right or authority that merited his station as leader of their movement. He came out in blatant support of Andromeda.
parents
Old Man Lestrange and his young bride, who died giving birth to their second son.
The late Lord Ronan Lestrange and the late Lady Calisto Lestrange (née Gamp)
The late Lord Ronan Lestrange and the late Lady Calisto Lestrange (née Gamp)
siblings
Roddie-boy is his bro-bro.
The Lord Rodolphus Azazel Lestrange, 69
Leader of the Death Eaters
Wizengamot Member
Spell Inventor
Slytherin Alum
The Lord Rodolphus Azazel Lestrange, 69
Leader of the Death Eaters
Wizengamot Member
Spell Inventor
Slytherin Alum
children
Melinoe Laima Black Lestrange, Due Date: January 4, 2020
Ilaria Amaris Avery Lestrange, Due Date: February 15, 2020
Ilaria Amaris Avery Lestrange, Due Date: February 15, 2020
partnerS
Andromeda Laima Black Lestrange, 66
Chairman of the Board for The Lestrange Foundation
Co-owner of Puddlemere United
Member of the Wizengamot
Minister for Magic
Potioneer
Healer
St. George’s University Alum: Pre-Med, Obstetrics and Gynecology/Surgery
Bangor University Alum (Potionology)
Slytherin Alum
Emmaline Arabella Avery, 52
President of the Dubhe Merak Hospital Board of Directors
Head of the Research Unit
Trauma Surgeon & Potioneer
Research for the Lestrange Foundation
Co-owner of Puddlemere United
Bangor University Alum (Herbology + Potionology)
Chairman of the Board for The Lestrange Foundation
Co-owner of Puddlemere United
Member of the Wizengamot
Minister for Magic
Potioneer
Healer
St. George’s University Alum: Pre-Med, Obstetrics and Gynecology/Surgery
Bangor University Alum (Potionology)
Slytherin Alum
Emmaline Arabella Avery, 52
President of the Dubhe Merak Hospital Board of Directors
Head of the Research Unit
Trauma Surgeon & Potioneer
Research for the Lestrange Foundation
Co-owner of Puddlemere United
Bangor University Alum (Herbology + Potionology)
other family
Step-son/Nephew: Arcturus Xavier Black Lestrange – 1
Step-son/Nephew: Roarke Azazel Lestrange – 1
Step-daughter: Mallory Kingston - 24 - Slytherin Alum - Photographer for the Daily Prophet | Commission Photographer
Step-daughter: Hallie Kingston - 21 - Slytherin Alum - Bangor University Student - Third Year Herbology and Alchemy
Step-daughter: Avery Kingston - 19 - Slytherin Alum - Lufkin University Student - First Year Economics and Political Science
Step-daughter: Zoë Kingston - 13 - Slytherin Student
Step-son/Nephew: Roarke Azazel Lestrange – 1
Step-daughter: Mallory Kingston - 24 - Slytherin Alum - Photographer for the Daily Prophet | Commission Photographer
Step-daughter: Hallie Kingston - 21 - Slytherin Alum - Bangor University Student - Third Year Herbology and Alchemy
Step-daughter: Avery Kingston - 19 - Slytherin Alum - Lufkin University Student - First Year Economics and Political Science
Step-daughter: Zoë Kingston - 13 - Slytherin Student
family history
As part of the infamous Twenty-Eight pureblood families, the Lestrange line has long embraced its political and social standing above the rest of the wizarding and non-magical world. Vulgarly rich and shamelessly entitled, generation after generation has done its part to keep the little man down. The family tree is sprinkled with powerful wizards who used their wealth and connection to secure a wide variety of political positions. Former Minister Radolphus Lestrange, for example. The family, also, holds a seat on the Wizengamot.
There are very few of the other Twenty-Eight families that cannot be found married into the Lestrange line. Truly, only the Weasleys, Longbottoms, and Macmillians have been excluded--something about vanity and not wanting any ginger mucking up their brunet perfection.
Rabastan's parents were like many of purist couples, arranged to be married. His father was over forty by the time he took a wife...and when he did, she was such a young lithe thing. A Gamp--pretty and proper. The girl never saw twenty, but gave her husband two sons fulfilling the duty of a wife. He did not remarry as he had two heirs.
There are very few of the other Twenty-Eight families that cannot be found married into the Lestrange line. Truly, only the Weasleys, Longbottoms, and Macmillians have been excluded--something about vanity and not wanting any ginger mucking up their brunet perfection.
Rabastan's parents were like many of purist couples, arranged to be married. His father was over forty by the time he took a wife...and when he did, she was such a young lithe thing. A Gamp--pretty and proper. The girl never saw twenty, but gave her husband two sons fulfilling the duty of a wife. He did not remarry as he had two heirs.
other
Lawful Evil
A lawful evil villain methodically takes what he wants within the limits of his code of conduct without regard for whom it hurts. He cares about tradition, loyalty, and order but not about freedom, dignity, or life. He plays by the rules but without mercy or compassion. He is comfortable in a hierarchy and would like to rule, but is willing to serve. He condemns others not according to their actions but according to race, religion, homeland, or social rank. He is loath to break laws or promises.
This reluctance comes partly from his nature and partly because he depends on order to protect himself from those who oppose him on moral grounds. Some lawful evil villains have particular taboos, such as not killing in cold blood (but having underlings do it) or not letting children come to harm (if it can be helped). They imagine that these compunctions put them above unprincipled villains.
Some lawful evil people and creatures commit themselves to evil with a zeal like that of a crusader committed to good. Beyond being willing to hurt others for their own ends, they take pleasure in spreading evil as an end unto itself. They may also see doing evil as part of a duty to an evil deity or master.
Plots and Politics
What is your character’s stance on the recent takeover of the Ministry by Death Eaters?
He assumes that his brother is really the one in power. So, he approves heartily. He was never a fan of Ares.
Where did your character stand in the treatment of Death Eaters and their families under the late Minister Durant's rule?
Strongly opposed, obviously. His commentary on the Ministry's abuse of the purist elite is primarily comprised of profanity. The time of reckoning is drawing near--can't you feel the anticipation in the air? It is not winter that is coming, but the night, my darling.
How was your character and their family affected by the reign and death of Voldemort?
Rabastan was on top of the world when ole Tommy boy was in power...but the halfie let himself be bested by a boy and a loving mother twice in a row. Both times meant bad things for Rab--after each defeat, it was off to Azkaban for him, but that wasn't so bad. He had all his friends about.
A lawful evil villain methodically takes what he wants within the limits of his code of conduct without regard for whom it hurts. He cares about tradition, loyalty, and order but not about freedom, dignity, or life. He plays by the rules but without mercy or compassion. He is comfortable in a hierarchy and would like to rule, but is willing to serve. He condemns others not according to their actions but according to race, religion, homeland, or social rank. He is loath to break laws or promises.
This reluctance comes partly from his nature and partly because he depends on order to protect himself from those who oppose him on moral grounds. Some lawful evil villains have particular taboos, such as not killing in cold blood (but having underlings do it) or not letting children come to harm (if it can be helped). They imagine that these compunctions put them above unprincipled villains.
Some lawful evil people and creatures commit themselves to evil with a zeal like that of a crusader committed to good. Beyond being willing to hurt others for their own ends, they take pleasure in spreading evil as an end unto itself. They may also see doing evil as part of a duty to an evil deity or master.
Plots and Politics
What is your character’s stance on the recent takeover of the Ministry by Death Eaters?
He assumes that his brother is really the one in power. So, he approves heartily. He was never a fan of Ares.
Where did your character stand in the treatment of Death Eaters and their families under the late Minister Durant's rule?
Strongly opposed, obviously. His commentary on the Ministry's abuse of the purist elite is primarily comprised of profanity. The time of reckoning is drawing near--can't you feel the anticipation in the air? It is not winter that is coming, but the night, my darling.
How was your character and their family affected by the reign and death of Voldemort?
Rabastan was on top of the world when ole Tommy boy was in power...but the halfie let himself be bested by a boy and a loving mother twice in a row. Both times meant bad things for Rab--after each defeat, it was off to Azkaban for him, but that wasn't so bad. He had all his friends about.
face claim
MADS Mikkelsenstatus of application
completehave you read the rules?
Yes.how did you hear about us?
Miss Morgan invited me.
roleplay sample
It was not what he had hoped to hear...but the no was exactly what the man expected. A sigh accompanied an accepting nod of his head. This was all to be expected. Answers would not be easily found. It was still disappointing. He was without a part of himself. The absence of his magic left him vulnerable and ill at ease. Not to mention the annoyance of it, everything took such effort these days. He wanted his lover to tell him she had found an answer. He wanted to find a means to be back to himself. So, they would continue the search.
"It has been much the same in all I've found. I am growing more certain each day that nothing like this sickness has been known before now. It all feels highly abnormal. The world and existence itself is cyclic. Things go away and return...but this, this has not been before, meaning it must have been made..." Who could manage such a thing, though... and had the revolution that brought him freedom from the work camp been what set this sickness in motion? It did seem like a cruel act of revenge, but even the muggleborns were impacted by it. He did not think one of that lot or an alliance of them would have crafted such a sickness without a cure--and without protecting their own... But perhaps he was thinking to much like himself in holding that thought.
She swore to look through the new books carefully and he gave her a gentle brush down her cheek. "I'm sure you will," he acknowledged. His voice was soft with her. The wizard was disappointed, but not in her. It wasn't as if they were the only pair failing to find answers to this sickness. All of the wizarding UK was searching for a cause and cure.
"I've never gone without magic like before," Rabastan told her. A soft scoff of something akin to sadness rose up from him. "Even in Azkaban. They took our wands, of course, made a big show of breaking them in half right there in the Wizengamot chambers, but I didn't need it. I hadn't for a long time." Another sigh came from him and he looked down at Anya thoughtfully. "You're so young--" He half whispered. "I've lived a number of your lifetimes already...It makes it hard to adjust after so long. Magic is what is supposed to define me. Being pure of heritage only goes so far. Squibs get written out of the family histories. And what am I now but that?" He wore the saddest of smiles now. It was clear this epidemic was very hard on the man. He felt he had lost that which defined him.
"It has been much the same in all I've found. I am growing more certain each day that nothing like this sickness has been known before now. It all feels highly abnormal. The world and existence itself is cyclic. Things go away and return...but this, this has not been before, meaning it must have been made..." Who could manage such a thing, though... and had the revolution that brought him freedom from the work camp been what set this sickness in motion? It did seem like a cruel act of revenge, but even the muggleborns were impacted by it. He did not think one of that lot or an alliance of them would have crafted such a sickness without a cure--and without protecting their own... But perhaps he was thinking to much like himself in holding that thought.
She swore to look through the new books carefully and he gave her a gentle brush down her cheek. "I'm sure you will," he acknowledged. His voice was soft with her. The wizard was disappointed, but not in her. It wasn't as if they were the only pair failing to find answers to this sickness. All of the wizarding UK was searching for a cause and cure.
"I've never gone without magic like before," Rabastan told her. A soft scoff of something akin to sadness rose up from him. "Even in Azkaban. They took our wands, of course, made a big show of breaking them in half right there in the Wizengamot chambers, but I didn't need it. I hadn't for a long time." Another sigh came from him and he looked down at Anya thoughtfully. "You're so young--" He half whispered. "I've lived a number of your lifetimes already...It makes it hard to adjust after so long. Magic is what is supposed to define me. Being pure of heritage only goes so far. Squibs get written out of the family histories. And what am I now but that?" He wore the saddest of smiles now. It was clear this epidemic was very hard on the man. He felt he had lost that which defined him.
