Post by Rabastan L. Whitlock on Jan 5, 2017 20:14:36 GMT -5
Finally. It was time. Rab had all of the ingredients he needed tucked away in case that fit perfectly into his backpack. Every single ounce that made up the human body, every single chemical, every single line. Thankful that it was Friday, because it would most definitely take at least one day to draw out the transmutation circle and to ensure that it was perfect. That everything was perfect. Looking back at the castle, he had made sure that he could get out of there as the sun fell. Telling not a single soul where he was going, as that would lead to too many questions. Rab wasn't about that. His secrets were his, and his trust was rather impossible to gain.
The sound of his knuckles popping as he slipped into his home. The light sound of his boots clicking on the solid polished onyx flooring. Rabastan rolled his sleeves up while dropping the bag on the to the ground. This was his house and he had a lot of work that needed to be done. Still standing in the doorway, his shoulders rolled back, popping his neck. He knew exactly what he was doing, everything down to the final trace amount of vanadium.
It was amazing what love could do. There really was no greater power on Earth. Love. It would cure all, and with it you could accomplish greatness. That was exactly what lead him here to his childhood home. The place where his parents currently sat. Closing his eyes as he stood there breathing out, the focus came. Rabastan's eyes moved up the staircase, the handrail curling in all of it's emerald grandeur, the steps leading to the bedrooms, but that wasn't where they were. No, not at all. Unless his ears were deceiving him both Phraxos and Lyre were in the sitting room. Stepping forward toward the main part of the house he grinned, hood propped up over his head. A perfectly manicured hand grazing over a heavy silver candle stick. Fingers coiling around the base, the light click of his boots were silenced when he stepped upon the thick rug. Turning left he moved through the home blindly and a sick smile spread over his lips when he saw them. There sat his father, nowhere near his mother.
Their obsession lead to the death of his brother. Their misconduct. Everything lead to this point and now karma was going to get the best of them. Had they not pushed his brother over the edge, Rodolphus would surely still be here. With him. Rabastan was going to insure that his parents would never grace this Earth again. That was the thing with alchemy. The rules and laws. They were nothing like that of the ministry. They were binding. Harsh and cold, they were inescapable. Two lives for one? Seemed fair enough didn't it?
No, he wasn't going to kill them outright. Not like this. Only knock them out and chain them up in the white room. Rabastan needed them alive. But who to rock first? Slipping silently up behind his mother, he let his cold hand fall over his shoulder. Forcing her to look up at him, his father still had yet to notice his entrance as the candle stick came down. It was Rabastan in the sitting room, and of course, with the candle stick. Pushing the thin, limp and unconscious body of his mother out of her chair he turned and rounded on his father. No magic. He didn't want to be traced, not now, not or this. Love drove people to do insane things, but was it really as mental in comparison to his parents?
"Don't you move." Rab spoke as he stepped up over the arm rest and onto the cushions of the couch. Crouching right next to his father who looked stunned. "This is what happens when you don't protect your children. You lose them. Look at me." Casually the younger Lestrange boy reached forward and gripped his father by his gullet, pressing in every so slightly to cut the airway off. "You did this. Both of you. Had I known how much you made him suffer we would have done this a long time ago. Had I known that you were going to push him so far away, I would have killed you sooner."
Rabastan moved from the center of the couch and pressed his knee into the chest of his obese father. The sound of his struggle nothing but music to his ears as he tried to breath. "Are you losing consciousness? Oh... sorry. Sorry, really. But that's what I want. This is what you get for raping him. Using him for monetary and sexual gain. How dare you sell your son's innocence on a street corner." Rab could feel the shift in his father throat as he pressed harder. What he didn't expect was the grip. The hands that beat them senseless coiled over his bicep. Rab's arm pulled back quickly unable to shake the mans fingers. Instead he pressed harder into his neck. The sound of the couch creaking under their weight. Again he tried to shake his father off and instead of pressing his palm against him more he shifted. Letting go and pulling back his free arm to clock the gasping fat man square in the nose.
It was exciting. Everything about this was thrilling and he had to scramble grabbing the first thing he could in order to knock the bloated and indigo man out. Rabastan took a few steps as Phraxos struggled to get out of the couch. Hopping on his toes lightly holding onto a heavy bust of Salazar Slytherin. "C'mon Phraxos, whats the matter? Can't stand? Here let me help." With two quick steps and a downward swing Rabastan launched the bronze figure straight into his father, a smirk on his lips as he slumped down. "Nighty night."
Leaving his parents in an unconscious state in the living room, Rabastan nabbed both of their wands and snapped each in half, making sure to put them in his backpack so they couldn't be found. Then he moved up the stairs toward their bedroom to get the key for the white room. Every movement quick and concise. He thought better of it as he looked at the dresser and turned to find one of his mother's scarves to pull it open. Finding the case with a number of keys lined in it. One for each room, each holding the power to lock a child in their room with no means of escape. As Rabastan opened the case he shook his head as he saw the key to Rodolphus' room, the Key to his own room, the keys to every guest room.
Contrary to popular belief. Being a purebood elitist didn't make you happier than anyone else. It didn't make you any better than anyone else. Instead being a pureblood elitist left you with an emptiness that you couldn't quite explain. Nearly everyone around you grew up in a normal household. Mother and Father who cared for you, protected and loved you. Instead in this world it was everyone for themselves. Man eat man. It explained the mannerisms of those from the traditional family lines, the Rosier twins were probably starting to realize now that there was much more to life than the way they were brainwashed. Rabastan actually knew that to be a fact. Never in his life would he have thought they would find anyone in the sense that they did.
Rab shifted his lips as the fabric of his mother's scarf moved over the key he was searching out. It was complicated. A lock that couldn't be picked, not even with magic. Leaving the drawer open he slipped down the stairs and turned right, just before the kitchen. The door to the White Room was matte black. Not even a doorknob lingered on the panel, except for a small keyhole that only appeared if the matching key was near. Rabastan had seen his parents use this room countless times, he had also been forced into it for weeks at a time. It was their turn. With the door propped open Rabastan moved across the hall and back into the sitting room.
Looking over the wreck that happened to be his parents, he couldn't help but smile ever so softly. Stepping up to his father, he crouched and grabbed him by the ankles and began dragging the large mass across the floor. Thankfully the stone floors were easy to slide fabric across or else he wouldn't have been able to achieve this feat. Taking a step into the room pulled his father down one step, shifted out of the way and allowed gravity to do it's job. Following suit with his mother. Making sure they were uncomfortable before closing the door and securing them inside the stark white room, no windows, no bathroom, no where to sleep comfortably, and set to a perfect 55 degrees.
Things needed to be cleaned up now. The bronze figure polished and put back in it's place. Rabastan moved to his bag and pulled out the gloves he was saving for this exact reason. Tools of the trade needed to be concealed and cleaned. Everything needed to be cleaned. That was why he had hated coming him. Both Lyra and Phraxos were lazy, the house elves were long gone as none would serve them any longer. So the house was starting to fall into despair. It wasn't that he was home all the time, but he needed to make sure he wouldn't get caught.
Once the home was clean enough to looked lived in and undisturbed by horseplay he began working. The only place large enough to draw the transmutation circle was the entry way. Rabastan slipped across the floor and rolled the rug up, pressing it against the opposite wall so that the onyx floor was cleared and gleaming like the night sky. It was the best surface to be used and his chalk medium had shown up perfectly against the blackness. It took hours of painstaking work to achieve. But finally he was done.
The sun was now blazing high in the sky at this point and he would have to wait for nightfall again for the next step. Looking at the circle in the entry way he went over it again and again making sure he had everything in the right places. Once he was satisfied that it was perfect, he moved and made way to his bedroom where he had collapsed on his bed and slept, until the quiet hour of one in the morning. His sleep was dreamless, effortless an uninterrupted. That was something he wasn't entirely familiar with, but he knew that he would need rest before attempting the next part. It would have taken all of his energy and could quite possibly kill him if he wasn't careful. Bargaining required full use of the brain.
Just like that the Equuleus boy was moving like clock work. The family graves weren't too far away, but they did happen to have neighbors. So under the cloak of the night he took his spade, fastened the laces of his boot and begun the grueling process of digging up the corpse of his brother. It had been four months since his death and he was hoping the the body was still in decent condition. It took him until sunrise to reach the coffin. Rabastan's hands were now bloodied and calloused, but that was only a sacrifice for love. Standing on his brother's box the next thought that he had was how the fuck was he going to get him out of there. Wizard.
The thought had escaped him as he looked about, it was still dark enough for him to do this without anyone noticing so with a little leviosa and a lot of effort he had managed to bring the body of Rodolphus into their home. Laying his corpse down dead center and swallowed. Rod didn't look good. Suddenly Rabastan was wrought with doubt, but he had to try, he had to attempt to bring him back. He wanted to show him how well they would be, that they wouldn't be in anymore pain. That their parents would no longer be affecting them in the way that they had.
Rab covered his mouth as he looked at his brother, how at ease he was, how peaceful. The sight nearly tipped him over the edge. All he really wanted was to hug his brother again. To have that reassurance that everything was going to be okay. Without him here, it was hell. He had no one to lean in on for support. It was a lonely world and without the only person that ever actually stood up for him, it was stark, bleak and cold.
Shaking his head he needed to get his shit together. Rabastan moved quickly. Having managed to find a way to contain the components that were not solid, placing them in their locations. Oxygen, Carbon, Hydrogen, Nitrogen, Calcium, Phosphorus, Potassium, Sulfur, Sodium, Chlorine, Magnesium, Born, Chromium, Cobalt, Copper, Florine, Iodine, Iron, Manganese, Molybdenum, Selenium, Silicon, Tin, Vanadium and Zinc. Everything he needed to resurrect his brother.
Taking a final breath he stood there and focused on what needed to be done.
The sound of his knuckles popping as he slipped into his home. The light sound of his boots clicking on the solid polished onyx flooring. Rabastan rolled his sleeves up while dropping the bag on the to the ground. This was his house and he had a lot of work that needed to be done. Still standing in the doorway, his shoulders rolled back, popping his neck. He knew exactly what he was doing, everything down to the final trace amount of vanadium.
It was amazing what love could do. There really was no greater power on Earth. Love. It would cure all, and with it you could accomplish greatness. That was exactly what lead him here to his childhood home. The place where his parents currently sat. Closing his eyes as he stood there breathing out, the focus came. Rabastan's eyes moved up the staircase, the handrail curling in all of it's emerald grandeur, the steps leading to the bedrooms, but that wasn't where they were. No, not at all. Unless his ears were deceiving him both Phraxos and Lyre were in the sitting room. Stepping forward toward the main part of the house he grinned, hood propped up over his head. A perfectly manicured hand grazing over a heavy silver candle stick. Fingers coiling around the base, the light click of his boots were silenced when he stepped upon the thick rug. Turning left he moved through the home blindly and a sick smile spread over his lips when he saw them. There sat his father, nowhere near his mother.
Their obsession lead to the death of his brother. Their misconduct. Everything lead to this point and now karma was going to get the best of them. Had they not pushed his brother over the edge, Rodolphus would surely still be here. With him. Rabastan was going to insure that his parents would never grace this Earth again. That was the thing with alchemy. The rules and laws. They were nothing like that of the ministry. They were binding. Harsh and cold, they were inescapable. Two lives for one? Seemed fair enough didn't it?
No, he wasn't going to kill them outright. Not like this. Only knock them out and chain them up in the white room. Rabastan needed them alive. But who to rock first? Slipping silently up behind his mother, he let his cold hand fall over his shoulder. Forcing her to look up at him, his father still had yet to notice his entrance as the candle stick came down. It was Rabastan in the sitting room, and of course, with the candle stick. Pushing the thin, limp and unconscious body of his mother out of her chair he turned and rounded on his father. No magic. He didn't want to be traced, not now, not or this. Love drove people to do insane things, but was it really as mental in comparison to his parents?
"Don't you move." Rab spoke as he stepped up over the arm rest and onto the cushions of the couch. Crouching right next to his father who looked stunned. "This is what happens when you don't protect your children. You lose them. Look at me." Casually the younger Lestrange boy reached forward and gripped his father by his gullet, pressing in every so slightly to cut the airway off. "You did this. Both of you. Had I known how much you made him suffer we would have done this a long time ago. Had I known that you were going to push him so far away, I would have killed you sooner."
Rabastan moved from the center of the couch and pressed his knee into the chest of his obese father. The sound of his struggle nothing but music to his ears as he tried to breath. "Are you losing consciousness? Oh... sorry. Sorry, really. But that's what I want. This is what you get for raping him. Using him for monetary and sexual gain. How dare you sell your son's innocence on a street corner." Rab could feel the shift in his father throat as he pressed harder. What he didn't expect was the grip. The hands that beat them senseless coiled over his bicep. Rab's arm pulled back quickly unable to shake the mans fingers. Instead he pressed harder into his neck. The sound of the couch creaking under their weight. Again he tried to shake his father off and instead of pressing his palm against him more he shifted. Letting go and pulling back his free arm to clock the gasping fat man square in the nose.
It was exciting. Everything about this was thrilling and he had to scramble grabbing the first thing he could in order to knock the bloated and indigo man out. Rabastan took a few steps as Phraxos struggled to get out of the couch. Hopping on his toes lightly holding onto a heavy bust of Salazar Slytherin. "C'mon Phraxos, whats the matter? Can't stand? Here let me help." With two quick steps and a downward swing Rabastan launched the bronze figure straight into his father, a smirk on his lips as he slumped down. "Nighty night."
Leaving his parents in an unconscious state in the living room, Rabastan nabbed both of their wands and snapped each in half, making sure to put them in his backpack so they couldn't be found. Then he moved up the stairs toward their bedroom to get the key for the white room. Every movement quick and concise. He thought better of it as he looked at the dresser and turned to find one of his mother's scarves to pull it open. Finding the case with a number of keys lined in it. One for each room, each holding the power to lock a child in their room with no means of escape. As Rabastan opened the case he shook his head as he saw the key to Rodolphus' room, the Key to his own room, the keys to every guest room.
Contrary to popular belief. Being a purebood elitist didn't make you happier than anyone else. It didn't make you any better than anyone else. Instead being a pureblood elitist left you with an emptiness that you couldn't quite explain. Nearly everyone around you grew up in a normal household. Mother and Father who cared for you, protected and loved you. Instead in this world it was everyone for themselves. Man eat man. It explained the mannerisms of those from the traditional family lines, the Rosier twins were probably starting to realize now that there was much more to life than the way they were brainwashed. Rabastan actually knew that to be a fact. Never in his life would he have thought they would find anyone in the sense that they did.
Rab shifted his lips as the fabric of his mother's scarf moved over the key he was searching out. It was complicated. A lock that couldn't be picked, not even with magic. Leaving the drawer open he slipped down the stairs and turned right, just before the kitchen. The door to the White Room was matte black. Not even a doorknob lingered on the panel, except for a small keyhole that only appeared if the matching key was near. Rabastan had seen his parents use this room countless times, he had also been forced into it for weeks at a time. It was their turn. With the door propped open Rabastan moved across the hall and back into the sitting room.
Looking over the wreck that happened to be his parents, he couldn't help but smile ever so softly. Stepping up to his father, he crouched and grabbed him by the ankles and began dragging the large mass across the floor. Thankfully the stone floors were easy to slide fabric across or else he wouldn't have been able to achieve this feat. Taking a step into the room pulled his father down one step, shifted out of the way and allowed gravity to do it's job. Following suit with his mother. Making sure they were uncomfortable before closing the door and securing them inside the stark white room, no windows, no bathroom, no where to sleep comfortably, and set to a perfect 55 degrees.
Things needed to be cleaned up now. The bronze figure polished and put back in it's place. Rabastan moved to his bag and pulled out the gloves he was saving for this exact reason. Tools of the trade needed to be concealed and cleaned. Everything needed to be cleaned. That was why he had hated coming him. Both Lyra and Phraxos were lazy, the house elves were long gone as none would serve them any longer. So the house was starting to fall into despair. It wasn't that he was home all the time, but he needed to make sure he wouldn't get caught.
Once the home was clean enough to looked lived in and undisturbed by horseplay he began working. The only place large enough to draw the transmutation circle was the entry way. Rabastan slipped across the floor and rolled the rug up, pressing it against the opposite wall so that the onyx floor was cleared and gleaming like the night sky. It was the best surface to be used and his chalk medium had shown up perfectly against the blackness. It took hours of painstaking work to achieve. But finally he was done.
The sun was now blazing high in the sky at this point and he would have to wait for nightfall again for the next step. Looking at the circle in the entry way he went over it again and again making sure he had everything in the right places. Once he was satisfied that it was perfect, he moved and made way to his bedroom where he had collapsed on his bed and slept, until the quiet hour of one in the morning. His sleep was dreamless, effortless an uninterrupted. That was something he wasn't entirely familiar with, but he knew that he would need rest before attempting the next part. It would have taken all of his energy and could quite possibly kill him if he wasn't careful. Bargaining required full use of the brain.
Just like that the Equuleus boy was moving like clock work. The family graves weren't too far away, but they did happen to have neighbors. So under the cloak of the night he took his spade, fastened the laces of his boot and begun the grueling process of digging up the corpse of his brother. It had been four months since his death and he was hoping the the body was still in decent condition. It took him until sunrise to reach the coffin. Rabastan's hands were now bloodied and calloused, but that was only a sacrifice for love. Standing on his brother's box the next thought that he had was how the fuck was he going to get him out of there. Wizard.
The thought had escaped him as he looked about, it was still dark enough for him to do this without anyone noticing so with a little leviosa and a lot of effort he had managed to bring the body of Rodolphus into their home. Laying his corpse down dead center and swallowed. Rod didn't look good. Suddenly Rabastan was wrought with doubt, but he had to try, he had to attempt to bring him back. He wanted to show him how well they would be, that they wouldn't be in anymore pain. That their parents would no longer be affecting them in the way that they had.
Rab covered his mouth as he looked at his brother, how at ease he was, how peaceful. The sight nearly tipped him over the edge. All he really wanted was to hug his brother again. To have that reassurance that everything was going to be okay. Without him here, it was hell. He had no one to lean in on for support. It was a lonely world and without the only person that ever actually stood up for him, it was stark, bleak and cold.
Shaking his head he needed to get his shit together. Rabastan moved quickly. Having managed to find a way to contain the components that were not solid, placing them in their locations. Oxygen, Carbon, Hydrogen, Nitrogen, Calcium, Phosphorus, Potassium, Sulfur, Sodium, Chlorine, Magnesium, Born, Chromium, Cobalt, Copper, Florine, Iodine, Iron, Manganese, Molybdenum, Selenium, Silicon, Tin, Vanadium and Zinc. Everything he needed to resurrect his brother.
Taking a final breath he stood there and focused on what needed to be done.
