Nov. 30: Play With Fire: Meredith

[Rabastan Lestrange]

▶︎ hail to the king and queen of the ruckus

rabastan's home → ...out

The house was quiet, and for this day off, that was all Rabastan desired. Not that he didn't enjoy time at home with a guest, but there was something marvelous to be said for a bit of solitude. It was something unpredictable these days, and the introvert could admit that he'd been looking forward to this. To let laziness take its comforting hold on him, to be waited on by his elf, his glass never dry and his plate never empty, the fire in the den running hot, a stack of half-finished books ready to be torn into, dull blades to be tended to. A day holed up in the house - not as ludicrously expansive as the manor he'd grown up in, but one with enough opulence to befit ones of his station - suited him just fine.

But as with all good things, his peace came to an end.

His steady, almost therapeutic rhythm of sharpening his blades on a whetstone was interrupted. The metallic ring faded out as he paused, eyeing their elf sharply as the little thing came to the door. Seeing as it wasn't bearing anything of value, its presence was hardly welcome. "I thought I made it clear that I was not to be disturbed," Rabastan snapped, but his eyes narrowed as another figure moved into view and the elf bowed out, tremmoring with excuses upon excuses. Meredith Mulciber. What are you doing here? If Rabastan wasn't as familiar with the woman as he was, he frankly would not have recognized her. Intrigued at her unscheduled visit and, to be frank, her wild appearance, he set his work aside.

"You look like you've been to hell," he remarked from his seat at one of the two comfortable armchairs the room had to offer - it was not a space to entertain a crowd - and cold eyes took the woman in from head to toe, "but you'll have to tell me whether you were dragged through it, or the one doing the dragging." A brief smile flashed across his face, and he rose to fix her something to drink from the well-stocked liquor cabinet. Strong. He was hardly a willing host, but his prior housemate looked a wreck. Curious, more than anything, he played the gentleman and asked, "What can I do for you, Meredith?" 

[Meredith Mulciber]

"Hell would have been glad to have me." Meredith said crossly as she properly entered the home of her former longtime roommate and the girl's fiance. "Guess which one it would have been." she added to his question as she sauntered further into the room, glaring at the departing house-elf for no other reason than how lowly the things were. Passing by a mirror she stopped to examine herself: her hair looked dirty, and that was likely, slicked back to her head as it was, and the dress she had hastily thrown on to escape her flat before her parents arrived dipped down her body in an exposing way she would normally not tolerate in the daylight but now could not find a care to give about it. Shrugging her shoulders and ignoring the black smudges around her red-rimmed eyes, Mere turned to her host.

Rabastan Lestrange was not her favorite person, not by half, that spot had been reserved for Lydia for a long time now. But she couldn't go to Lydia just yet, she couldn't let her best friend see her this way. And she couldn't let her Lord know she had been duped and was heartbroken, he would think she was weak. She needed time to fortify herself against the displeasure he would surely have in her. So, she couldn't go to Lydia, or the Dark Lord, or Bronwyn because she was likely to tell them both. That left, not many people actually. So, she had somehow decided on Rabastan, an acquaintance from their school days together. Also not her favorite person, but definitely a good ally to have in a jam. That led her here, looking for the man himself.

Meredith's anger was seething just beneath the surface. First, her ex-boyfriend had ripped her heart out: he had been lying to her the whole time and he had never really loved her. Second, she had destroyed her apartment in a fit of rage; disappointment in one's self is even harder to bear than in others. Next, she had been a fool and gone to Marc's village in the hopes of meeting him by chance, for what reason even she was not sure, but alas, he had not come. Couldn't he feel her near? Now she was here and hopefully Rab could help her release some of this anger.

Walking over, Meredith stilled her host's hand with a light touch of her own, picking up the decanter he was no doubt about to pour from and taking a healthy swig. It burned all the way down and the blonde was not ashamed of the ugly look that crossed her face. "Thank you." she said politely after a moment of recovery, setting the heavy cut glass back down. She met Rabastan's eye then, her face devoid of her usual easy smile and a different plan began to form in her mind, which was still as sharp as ever. At least that had not abandoned her altogether. "What I really want is just...a release. I need to relieve some stress and I was thinking that the best thing for that is activity. I think I'll go hunting. Interested?"

[Rabastan Lestrange]

He was not a man of gossip or frivolity, preferring to know only enough about his comrades, and vice versa, to enable them to perform their duties to the best of their abilities. A raven in a cohort of peacocks and parrots, Rabastan tended to rely on observation more than anything. So he watched carefully as Meredith strode into his den, halting in her step to observe her look in a mirror framed with wrought iron. And yet, you do nothing to improve yourself, he noted, curious despite himself at what had wrung such a change in the young woman. She was one who always put her best face forward...unless she'd been wronged. While not having witnessed such an event himself, he'd heard tales enough to conclude that today must have been one of those days. But what could have transpired to get the well-bred woman into such a state? He knew that she was as deep in her studies as she was in deeds for their Lord, and while they were discreet at meetings, it didn't take a Legilimens to perceive that she and the Vanderhyde boy were involved. Other aspects of her life were unknown to him, but Rabastan determined that these were likely the big three. And she'd hit a rather sizeable snag with at least one of them. But in not fixing her appearance...Attempting to own what happened, rather than be owned by it.

"I'd say it was both," he answered simply, wondering if his guest expected him to be intimidated by the severity of the gaze she turned on him, or if she was too far gone to realize that he was not the root of her upset, and should not be treated as such. It turned out that he needn't have bothered in rising and starting on her drink; Meredith was at his side in a few quick steps, signaling that she would take care of it with a surprisingly soft touch to his hand before taking the decanter...for herself.

He watched the grimace transform her features and was almost stirred into laughing at her thanks, as restrained as if they were at dinner and she had not barged into his home. Amused, Rabastan took the oversized thing up himself and drank, returning it to its station as he listened. For a moment, he thought that she could mean adding a layer to their relationship which he easily imagined would be all kinds of satisfying... But Meredith concluded her thought and gave a different sort of invitation, and he cocked his head as he looked to her curiously. "I thought you already had an outlet that would serve for any...release," he challenged, a smirk spreading as he narrowed down three to one. Vanderhyde. The fool can't even do his duty keep you happy enough? "I suppose I could be persuaded to join you."

[Meredith Mulciber]

Meredith sneered at the younger Lestrange. Yes, she looked horrid, but it was still rude to comment on it. But he was right, partially. She had been dragged through hell this morning, the part that was untrue was that she had done some dragging of her own. Her chest contracted painfully at that thought. Ethan had broken her heart but she doubted she had damaged his in the least when she had left. So, no, she had not had the pleasure of payback...not yet, but she would. She made a solemn promise to herself that he would pay, she would make him.

She failed to say any of this to her co-worker though, she could only shrug as if it didn't matter, and it didn't. Not right now. Right now she needed something to replace the urge to find Ethan Vanderhyde and literally carve his heart from his chest. And apparently, she also needed a good strong drink. Of course, Rabastan had fine taste and she indulged in a swallow, jumping into her reason for coming without ceremony. Her host's initial answer made her glare back at the slight taunt in his voice and she poking the taller man in the chest, about to correct his misunderstanding -whether she had an outlet or not, she didn't want sex, she wanted blood- but his last made it unnecessary. He clearly understood her needs matter his teasing.

One side of her lip curled up as she slipped around him and in a flash, she was at the door again. "I don't intend on wasting any time persuading you, either you want to come or you don't. A truly assured man cannot be swayed one way or another when his mind is decided. Do you have a weapons room here?" she asked curiously, poking her head around the door frame to search the hall, wondering where all the doors led to. "I was hoping to borrow some...instruments. I'll bring them back, promise."

[Rabastan Lestrange]

The nerve of this girl. While he humored the newer recruits to an extent and was finding most of this amusing, he was not about to condone Meredith's present behavior. She was hardly entertained by his commentary, and glared before attempting to physically push him back. He stood his ground, obviously, sending a sharp glare of his own towards his guest. She backed off instantly, racing towards the door with a feverish gleam to her eye, and mildly insulted him from a distance. While he was put off by her interruption of his solitude, as she inquired about weapons, Rabastan felt that she should...probably have a chaperone for her excursion. A Death Eater who wasn't thinking clearly wasn't one he wanted running around the city with his weapons, however nicely she had asked for them.

Do I have a weapons room? May as well ask if I am a Lestrange. While his own collection was neither as vast nor as vile as that of his deceased father's or his elder brother's, Rabastan gave a quiet roll of his eyes and reached for one of the daggers he'd been finished tending to. In a flick of his well-trained wrist, the newly sharpened blade was spinning end-over-end, whistling before it stuck into the wood of the door frame a hair's breadth away from the woman's figure. "If you can retrieve it, you may start with that," he offered with a sardonic smile and half bow. "The weaponry is kept behind the double-doors at the end of the east wing, out to your left. I shall join you momentarily."

Feeling that he would need to be deeper in the drink to bear the next hours, Rabastan gave a generous pour and took the heavy glassware with him. The weaponry held a veritable treasure trove of devices, from long-range crossbows to painstakingly refurbished antiques like medieval morning star clubs, some items imbued with magic and some relying purely on skill to wield. The entire room was unnecessary, as even Rabastan would admit. They were not muggles of old, they truly had no need for their primitive defenses. Their spellwork would do the trick every time, and often with less fuss. But there was something primal that awakened in him and his young guest, he assumed, when holding a true weapon. They were straightforward, no fluff about them, and no misunderstandings as to intent. He glimpsed her dark gown down the hall and drank as he languidly followed. Whatever had happened with Vanderhyde had been tragic, surely, and he hoped that this distraction would keep her from speaking of it. "And what, madame, strikes your fancy?" he asked in tease upon entry, sliding his usuals into his belt.

[Meredith Mulciber]

"Merlin!" Meredith said on a sharp intake of breath, her hazel gaze snapping to the blade mere meters from her face. She had been so focused on her new thought process that she had turned her back on Rabastan, a rookie mistake. She should have known that her insolence wouldn't be tolerated quietly, and honestly, she preferred this way to being scolded. It was so much more interesting. Bracing her feet, Meredith wrapped her fingers around the hilt and yank the blade out, possibly aided by her magic, which was strong in her emotion fueled state. Shooting her host an appreciative smile, Meredith slipped into the hall, following the man's instructions to finding the weapons room.

The doors swung open at her arrival and the blonde could barely contain herself at the sight of so many toys. Meredith shoved the dagger she had taken from the other doorway into this one for Rabastan to find and entered the room eagerly. It was not the largest collection she had ever seen, but certainly not the smallest either. In her childhood home, her father kept a space as big as their library to display his weaponry. But that room was just for show, housing all of the priceless, historical instruments no one was ever allowed to touch. She remembered the day she had found the other weapons room, the one hidden in the basement. Her father had caught her snooping, naturally, but instead of scolding her curiosity, he fed it. He taught her what every instrument did and how to use it properly. She remembered being so in awe back then. That seemed so long ago now, and she, so naive then.

Now, standing in front of the assortment at the Lestrange's home she knew now how much she didn't know back then. She had been somewhat reluctant since joining the Dark Lord's ranks to really let herself go, seeing as she had been in love with Ethan and wanted to maintain her womanly air. Her mother had always drilled into her the importance of being a proper lady, and proper ladies definitely did not bath in the blood of their victims. But now...she had none of those restrictions and her hands reached easily for the pair curved blades connected by a sturdy looking chain. "A bit decorative for my taste," she said, motioning to the skulls adorning the hilt. She turned from the wall and approached the man of the house, tugging on the daggers to test the tension on the chain. Satisfied, she gave a nod before adding. "But these will do nicely if you please. My fancy is definitely taken." Meredith took a moment to magically secure the things to her thigh, careful not to nick herself. Letting her dress fall back into place, she straightened up and addressed Rabastan directly, holding his gaze with her hopeful one. "So, have you decided to come along then?"

[Rabastan Lestrange]

Learn quickly, wee Mulciber, Rabastan thought with an unhidden smirk as the woman was brought to a pause by the dagger that could have so easily taken a sliver out of her fine nose. He watched with some interest as she recovered and, after a brief battle with it, tore the blade from the wood. And smiled.

Meredith Mulciber, to hell and not yet returned, fury fueling her magic and an angelic smile gracing her features at the promise of blood.

So much for quiet.

Because Rabastan knew that look. His sister-in-law was a beautiful woman, and perhaps the most deadly one in Great Britain. The way that she could bend a room to her will with that kind of smile was chilling, to say the very least, when one knew the viper beneath. And so, the young man had to count himself intrigued, more than he'd been before with the blonde. She had been the picture of decorum at meetings, standing her ground but respectfully so when the need arose. She had seemed the sort that could easily blend in at Ministry functions or elite events, having an inclination towards the darkness but not yet wholly within its embrace. One who could pass for simply the academic daughter of Clever Mulciber without letting on to her other calling, when in "proper" company. 

But, it seemed, at least for today - Meredith was letting the darkness hold her. It was not something she had to flaunt, as Carrow felt the need to - and, while he did not know her that well, Rabastan thought that it suited her. She was intelligent, powerful, and no longer held back by Vanderhyde, if his surmising was correct. What she would do with that intelligence and power was now up to her, and her alone. And he was curious enough to follow her to the weaponry to see what further clues there were to glean at just what direction she would take next.

Upon entry to the weaponry he chuckled, as he had to when finding his dagger protruding from the frame of this door. He set his glass down and lifted the blade from its hold, putting it into its place on his belt. His new companion was making herself comfortable with a set of double daggers, testing their strength and grip while teasing, all the same, about their decoration. "Consider them your own for the time," Rabastan granted, surprised at the expertise with which she affixed them to her leg. She was learned in more than Arithmancy, clearly, but perhaps what surprised him even more was the hope that still lit her eye as she turned to him. The girl in her is not completely gone, then. He had become resigned to this not being a "quiet" day, but just how far gone was she? Should he prepare for mercilessness, gratuitous gore... "Yes, I have. But I need clarity on something before we depart.

[Meredith Mulciber]

It could have been the magic or the rage or the destruction of her heart but Meredith was more thrilled about the prospect of mass murder than she had ever been about anything in her whole life. The allure of sex, while admittedly a very nice and pleasurable pass time, held no candle to the feeling she imaged she would have when she was finally able to release some of what was coiling in her chest. So at Rab's question -how much was too much?- her smile brightened. Her lips were prepared to say 'nothing is too much' but another thought struck her and she pulled a disgusted face instead. "I'm not eating anyone." she said definitively...though  a thought did strike her and she pursed her lips in a pleased sort of way.

Cannibalism wasn't and would never be something that appealed to her. There were tons of other sinister things she was willing to try but that was not one of them. Though maybe cooking Ethan and feeding him to her parents wasn't such a bad idea. After all, she wouldn't be eating him, her traitorous parents would be. Would serve them all right for lying and manipulating her. It was an idea that she filed away for later. For right now she had some business to attend to: Oxfordshire was waiting on them. She said as she glided back through the house, ignoring the elf that held the door for them and breaking into the brisk air with renowned energy for her task. 

Offering her arm to her partner for the evening, Meredith spirited them both away without further ado. In a flash and with a resounding crack they landed in this mostly muggle place, perched on the ledge of the domed building that marked the center of town. The wind was strong as the night grew and Mere wobbled dangerously in the gust, but she barely noticed. She was staring blurry-eyed out over the peaked buildings, memories assaulting her. The Vanderhyde estate was just over a crest she could barely see from here but she could feel it as if it was right next to her. As recently as this morning she had viewed that house as soon to be her own family home as well, now the thought of it still standing in its ancient place made her want to burn it. However, that was not an option, this was. Looking over to Rabastan the blonde gave a smirk, motioning out to the bounty before them. "Shall we begin?" she asked, her voice level, even as the tears began their track down her face. 

[Rabastan Lestrange]

What was he getting himself into?

On his first night "out" with his family, he'd witnessed his brother use an Unforgivable Curse on a muggle, turning the man against his fellows before killing himself. His sister-in-law used her "assets" to distract and dismay. Witnessing those he trusted most in the world reveal their abilities on the helpless was something he locked away. It did not do to think heavily on it. Theirs was a world that required violent acts, and he had chosen to belong to it. However, Rabastan preferred a more subtle approach when targeting muggles, not wanting to draw undue suspicion onto himself or wizardkind. The pride he had taken in falconry as a child, in training a wild animal to obey his command, to kill on his behalf, was not something he took in the act of murder. It did not fill him with the pleasure he knew some of his comrades grew dizzy with. It was a necessary duty to their work, at times, and when it was purposeful, a task put upon him by their Lord, he found it easier to accomplish. But for a night like he presumed tonight would become, he would have to work on the fly to make it an interesting challenge for himself. For while Rabastan thought his guest needed a chaperone - how many times did Meredith ask him to accompany her? - surely she would rid herself of her excess energy and temper herself before the night grew long.

Although, she was not that collected Meredith Mulciber now, and he did not think it inappropriate to question her state.

The young woman's smile grew at his acquiescence and probing, falling quickly as an apparently nauseating thought occurred to her, and Rabastan laughed at her response. He could not decipher what thoughts then turned her look, but commented regardless. "I'll remind you of your terribly high standards if I feel you slipping." With the warmth of alcohol in his veins and familiar daggers giving weight to his belt, Rabastan called for the elf to bring his coat (one of them could look themselves, after all). Rabastan shouldered into the coat deposited by the panting elf, tightly took the arm offered to him, and was magicked away.

He landed with Meredith on the few spare inches of a roof that allowed his feet to stay flat, and leaned a hand back onto the dome to steady himself. The rising wind caught at the ends of his coat, whipping the fabric around his legs, and he watched with curiosity as his self-appointed charge let the natural disruptions move her. Where are we? Why here? Perhaps the intrigue of this night would not be in coming up with new ways to dispose of their lessers, but in putting together further clues. There was a connection to Vanderhyde hidden in this muggle maze, there had to be. As long as we don't end up at Randolph Vanderhyde's door...

Meredith's entreaty drew his attention back to her, and he turned to see a tear-streaked face pale in the shifting moonlight. He was struck by the sight, by her history with his fiancée, by the desperation that had driven her to his door. "Before we descend, if I may," Rabastan replied, mirroring her politeness, "I have a word of advice. Do what you need to do tonight. But then, if you want no one to question why you have a Mark - you must learn to compartmentalize. I've heard of your skill, your wit, your logic - and to run wild with emotion is to be ruled by heart, not head." And we have enough wildcards in the ranks without adding one more to their number. 

"But tonight?" A smirk crossed a face lit from streetlamps below as he quoted, "It is only the dead who have seen the end of war." With that, the Death Eater bent and gripped the rail with his hands, swinging his legs over and down to drop to the level below. He continued to maneuver with latent athleticism and magical aid, keeping an eye on his partner and keeping in the shadows until their feet were on the grass of the lawn. He swept his long hair back and took her arm, a gentleman and his lady out for the evening, following his ears to a louder section of town.

[Meredith Mulciber]

She laughed, suddenly and with unexpected amusement. Everything she was doing today seemed sudden, unexpected, and completely out of character but she could stop and she didn’t want to. Her path had led her here with Rabastan, going for a hunt and making morbid jokes about it. What could be more fun? “I appreciate the gesture, I’d hate do go completely insane.” Because I already feel like I’m partially insane. Really though, her love life was one disaster after another, who could blame a girl for going a little mad. She and her partner for the evening prepared for departure, Rab shrugging on his coat and Mere smoothing back her hair, as they talked of his fiancé. Meredith pulled a face at his words as she twisted them into the fabric of space and out again to deposit them on the roof of a great building of peace and calm and knowledge. Usually, things she valued…

Now all she could feel was chaos and rage and ignorance. She had been so ignorant. She choked back a sob, accosted by painful memories and emotions. Rabastan voice drew her attention and she did her best to suck up her tears and focus. What he was saying made perfect sense to her rational mind, she had always operated on a calculated level, and she was loath to admit, but Ethan Vanderhyde had gotten the better of her. He had broken her heart. Her blonde hair fell over her shoulders as she bowed her head, acknowledging her reckless, vengeful behavior, how it wasn't conducive to their line of work. “Wise words,” she said, vowing to herself that she would regain her composure and prove her levity to her comrades...after tonight.

Meredith smiled, looking back over to her partner as he shared the same sentiment, disappearing over the edge of the building. She peeked over, smirking as he landed on the level below, and then leaned back, closing her eyes and stretching her arms out wide. “Only the dead.” she echoed, tilting toward until her body held no ground and she was falling through the air. The sensation of flying was bliss, the feeling of disapparition, better, more control, as she hit the ground at a bound. She leapt and disappeared and reappeared until she was standing beside Rab on the grass below. Mere glanced back up at the building where they had landed and could barely contain her adrenaline. What a rush! She and Rabastan easily fell into the ploy of a perfect gentleman and an elegant lady as they strode toward the feeling of life that seemed to hum within every city. Grass turned into pavement and before long they were strolling into the more popular section of town. “We should find something fun to do.” she said idly. “What about those kids, think they know anything exciting we could get up to?”

[Rabastan Lestrange]

At least she's aware enough to know she's at risk. A rational sector of the young woman's mind could yet be reached, which buoyed Rabastan's confidence in his decision to join her for the evening. While obviously shaken and requiring release, Meredith was still a bit of herself. She held the potential for reason and to be reasoned with, which made her a superior companion to many longstanding residents of their ranks. 

They were shortly balanced on the building, enclosed by the night and, for Meredith it seemed, the reality of what had transpired. Her features pushed and pulled, betraying tears and the depths of untapped feeling - grief, rage, horror? But she listened when he spoke, seeming to heed his advice even when in this state. Rabastan took note, something worthy to pass on to those with an interest in her. Bellatrix would like to know, that she was able to receive feedback when on the brink. He began a measured descent, and worried for a moment that the evening was coming to an abrupt end as his companion voluntarily fell. But Meredith was capable, showing her prowess and control through what he could imagine was an exhilarating flight. He gave a smirk, an approving nod, as they joined together. Expansive buildings sprawled before them, ignorant muggle frivolity in the wind, and Rabastan cast wary eyes around, looking for signs. Something here must tie to the Vanderhydes... He rose an amused brow at Meredith, not entirely clear on what classified as "fun" to her yet, but nevertheless nodded his assent. He was here to chaperone her through this episode, after all.

"Certainly," he assented. "Choose a puppet." Hand gripping his wand within a pocket of his coat, ready to act if any turned hostile or if her curse failed, Rabastan slowed their steps as they approached a group of youths. In fairness, they were likely no younger than Meredith herself - but the lack of weight that they carried, the lack of experience, the lack of knowledge of the reality of their world... If they only knew how much their world was to change, and soon, they would not be found laughing about at night. He almost envied their ignorance, the ability to be carefree in ways he never had been and never could be. But it was up to him and those of his blood to shoulder the true challenges of the world, to press forward into a reality which put them in their rightful place, and the call, the duty, could not be ignored. 

[Meredith Mulciber]

This was turning out to be exactly what she needed tonight. On her own, looking back, she was slightly concerned at what she might have done. Meredith could acknowledge that she was not herself at all, not her normal self at least. This was very much a part of her. This rage-filled, powerful witch who wanted vengeance, who wanted release. However, it was not how she behaved in her day to day life and decisions. Meredith prided herself on her control, that even when she had to go there, to that dark seductive place, she was still herself. Tonight she felt more on the edge of letting it all go than she had ever been but walking along arm and arm with Rab, she was feeling more like herself. Less volatile, more calculated. No less devastated.

When they came across the muggles she didn’t kill them directly on site and she took that as a victory. One for Meredith, zip for psychotic tendencies. “You know, this puts me greatly in mind of my first night as a new recruit.” She turned to her companion with a smile. “Bellatrix was in charge and puppets were our weapons.” What a night that had been. Of course, thinking of that night made her think of Ethan, as they had been together for the fun, and that was something she did not want to think about in the least. Fortunately, she had a suitable distraction and a pleasant partner for the night.

They came abreast of the group and Meredith gave them a pretty smile, one hand waving from the crook of Rabastans's elbow, the other gripping her wand behind her back. “Evening.” She took stock quickly, two females, and four males. Two couples, one creep in the background and one perfectly cocky arse to be her victim. “I was wondering...” she said coyly, beckoning with a finger in his direction. He was too ignorant to know to be fearful of her sweet, poisonous voice, or the dark man at her side. He even had the gall to wink at his friend as he moved closer. She leaned in, using her body to block the motion of her wand tapping the front of his smelly jacket. "Imperio." she whispered, feeling the magic surge forth more forcefully than she had meant. He snapped to attention, blank-faced. She glanced at the dark-haired girl, tucked into the side of the biggest lump of the bunch. “That one.” she ordered quietly and her puppet immediately turned, approached his friends again, and punched the muggle in her face. Naturally, chaos erupted and Meredith looked to Rab, hoping he was enjoying it just as much as she was. It was only the beginning of course but for beginnings, it was very good. "You next."

[Rabastan Lestrange]

"I heard you did well that evening," he said with a grin, eased in enough to poke the bear. Knowing full well that it hadn't been, he continued, "Downing the power lines, that was you, wasn't it?" The muggles that they shortly came upon were no match for Meredith, and whether she had learned such manipulation from Bellatrix or on her own, she was onto something. Rabastan had to work to stifle a laugh as she took the man in, getting him under her control and sending him back to the group with a bang. He let out a laugh as the men came to blows, and looked to his companion with amusement at her instruction.

"So kind of you to share," Rabastan said, feeling that the witch would have simply taken the lot out without a thought had he not been along for the journey. "Which is best - scorpions, millipedes, or spiders?" He was still perplexed at why she'd come to his door - he hadn't taken a particular interest in her since she gained her Mark, that was Bella's territory, and he'd been amiable enough with her other significant other for a spell at school, but not her so much. Perhaps she had needed someone who wasn't so invested in her. Not a mentor, not a friend, not someone whose judgement would feel personal. He wasn't complaining for the company, or the sport. This season was plodding by after a summer of ease with Euphadora, as he had lately accepted that she no longer wished to see him. He had grown too cocky, too at ease, and while he knew the decision had been the best to make for both of them, did wonder if she would forever resent - be sickened by? abhor? not stand the sight of? - him. It was not a wondering Rab enjoyed sitting with, and whatever Meredith's reasoning, she gave him leave to forget that tonight.

The hurt woman was crying as the other held a cloth to her bleeding nose, the men shouting as her beau came to her defense, colliding with the instigator as the others piled on. Drunk, distracted, emotional as they were, any of their minds would do for practice. As much of an opportunity as this was to observe and report on a new Death Eater, it was an unexpected one as well for him to get some practice in. The blades at his belt could wait, as tempting as they were to draw, knowing how the muggles would panic anew at an obvious threat. The mastery that his sister-in-law and their leader had of manipulation of the mind was unmatched, and Rabastan knew better than to challenge them. But he was learning, and was perfecting something that, in their circle, would be an amusing party trick. Here, however...

One man hung back from the lot, more intent on watching the women than helping them or in the fight, and Rabastan let out a sharp whistle to draw his attention. The others, more engrossed in pressing matters, kept on. But the man's dull eyes dulled further still as Rabastan met them, entering his mind to plant a delightful little vision. The little creatures that Meredith had chosen, to the man's understanding, erupted from his eyes, nose, mouth, and he shrieked in horror. Clawing at his face, stumbling blindly into the women, into the fray, incomprehensible. "They'll draw an audience soon," he mused, looking up the street to the lights of the nearest pub. "Stick around, or leave them to it?"