rabastan lestrange (alwaid) wrote in ageofdarkness, @ 2010-07-01 12:25:00 |
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Entry tags: | ella lestrange, rabastan lestrange, terrence higgs |
Who: Rabastan, Ella, and Terrence
What: belated birthday party. With pinatas.
When: Thursday afternoon.
Where: Rabastan's penthouse.
Why: because he promised.
Warnings: violence (pin the knife on the Muggle, etc.)
At another point in his life, Rabastan might not have been willing to have his niece stay with him for the summer. For one thing, he might not even have been in England; he often spent summers in Spain and Italy, though he would have preferred to spend them in France. He'd nearly forgotten France, and it was probably nothing like he remembered, but it was a longing in the back of his mind, the only one he knew.
However, things had changed. Their family was struggling to hold together, unraveling at the weak point that was Vera, and most of his friends had caught the relationship sickness. Rabastan wanted to stay where he knew people, at least for the moment; he definitely didn't want a relationship, but he wanted company. Good company. And he wanted to make sure his youngest niece grew up properly, without the influences that Vera had gotten from... somewhere.
This birthday party was a long time coming. He'd been a bad uncle and forgotten her birthday, but this summer would make up for it, by far. He hoped, anyway. At the moment, his penthouse resembled an extremely lavish dungeon, with five Muggles hanging from their wrists, tied to the ceiling in the middle of his living room. The vast majority of his furniture was blood red anyway, to avoid blood and wine stains from being terribly visible if his servants couldn't get them out properly.
The hunt had been fun. Of course, his version of hunting Muggles these days involved seduction; they'd all arrived at his place of their own free will, unbeknownst to the others. There were two women and three men, different features and sizes, and he'd already had his fun with the ones he found vaguely attractive. But he wouldn't be telling his niece that, and they were clothed now.
On the coffee table, next to his cup of Irish coffee, was a variety of knives and other torture instruments. They scattered a bit when he put his feet up in the table after picking up his coffee, and he smiled to himself. For the moment, it was quiet, because the pinatas were unconscious, but soon Ella would arrive. Then the fun would begin.