"Me," Bellatrix repeated, and turned her head slightly to the side, her tongue curling over her upper teeth in thought. She'd thought Rita was after Rodolphus. It had been the most obvious choice -- and Rita, she had thought, was clearly the most obvious of persons. When she looked at her again it was less with contempt than it was with curiosity. The glint in the blonde's eyes was what made her attractive -- or, more than just attractive in the usual, conventional ways. Bellatrix had a very polarised view of people. Either she wanted them or she didn't -- and she already had a more corruptible innocent than Skeeter could ever be. She had written her off to mediocrity -- but she was beginning to think it had been too dismissive a decision.
Bellatrix took the second picture and looked at it silently. The light of her wand cast shadows on her face that made her look almost skull-like -- her sunken eyes all but disappeared they were so dark. She had never seen herself in this way before -- in her portraits Bellatrix had been forced to sit still, like a force contained. The picture of Blishwick made her laugh -- a low, throaty noise that was awkward and a little disused. It wasn't because she found it funny, but because she didn't think she had encountered anybody with this much brass before.
"Pretty? If you like that sort of thing." Bellatrix couldn't help but knit the implication together -- tell me what you like about me, I find you intriguing. "I don't think you want to know what I like about you at all," she guessed. "I think you want to know what I like about her."
Her, instead of you. She'd admitted she was jealous. Bellatrix hadn't realised who of, but she suspected -- rightly or wrongly -- that this was about more than petty blackmail, and suddenly she was interested -- there was the familiar twinge of tension in the pit of her belly, but more than that her curiosity piqued. There was impetus, too, to try to turn the tables back. She could threaten her, she supposed, but there was less fun to be had in that.
From the depths of her robes she produced something white and allowed it to dangle from the tip of her index finger. A pair of cotton panties, size 8 -- they had a pink trim on them. Bellatrix looked at them, swinging, pendulum like, and then grinned and balled them swiftly into her fist:
"I like to play with her."
OOC: ((eep, jsyk I'm out of town friday-sunday, but I'll be back on Sunday -- and around a little tomorrow :) I won't have disappeared!))