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Post by Admin on Aug 7, 2019 0:59:24 GMT
There had been a considerable slip up for the Lestrange in March. He had gone too long without a dosage of his elixirs and he'd had a bout of catatonia in the bloody mudblood camp. It had made for several unpleasant weeks, where he had been very susceptible again to the catonia. Bella had gotten increasing louder and louder--and as such, he had taken to very frequent visits to Fleur de Lis. His companions changed on occasion, but more and more frequently, he requested Anya. She was pleasing pliable. She would indulge with him. Some objected to partaking in the elixirs he required to remain sane. Of course, he partook far past the point of necessity. Rabastan enjoyed hedonistic indulgence. He enjoyed a great many things...and several of his itches were no longer being scratched now that he couldn't make his little late night raids on the mudblood apartments.
He still battled a bloodthirst. Bella still raised her voice to scream into his mind. She cried out for control. The woman danced in the edges of his vision--urging him to torture. She kept him going back to his crypts--kept him trying to bring her back. Not even this budding romance with Athena had caused him to give that up. He was still attempting to bring her back. He could not let Bellatrix go. He did not know how. If he could even capture a sliver of her to splice into someone else, he would. He would do anything to give the goddess of darkness life again. She was his obsession. She had always been. Despite being the most accomplished necromancer in all of Europe, he had been able to do nothing to bring her back... it was the greatest failure of his life.
Her whispers filled his ears now as he dug into his pocket for a vial. Is he driving her away? Probably. He isn't just seeking to do it with Euphoria, either. He is also waiting on Anya. He's requested her tonight. But Rabastan wants something different to start the night. Sure, he'll fuck her. She's a bloody de Lis girl. But he knows things about her now. Euphora makes a person chatty. He turns up the vial. When the door opens, he extends it to her, "Drink up," the wizard instructs.
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Post by Admin on Aug 7, 2019 0:59:30 GMT
Anya had not, in the last few months, been completely functional. Not as she had been before, and definitely not as she had been a couple of years ago. Natalie and Addison wouldn't stop fussing, but she had refused to see the littlest Fowler. She wasn't up for any of that shrink shit he was doing nowadays. She knew perfectly well what was wrong with her and if she hadn't done anything about it then that was because she couldn't scramble up the energy and will power to do so. There really wasn't a point to it, in her eyes. There was no point to struggling to get on with her life after what happened, so all she usually did was read some things and come to work. Oh, there had been that one encounter months ago, but that was in the past. Even Jules was now starting to not show up anymore. Of course she still saw him, but not for the same thing. He didn't come to her room to hide and talk about his troubles at her as if he were throwing a bouncing ball at a wall. He invited her out for drinks as friends, and while she occasionally accepted, most days she just couldn't. Most days all she was good for was lounging on her bed with her books and coming here and going through the motions. Pretty smile, coy comment, teasing touch, wanton sounds. Done, over with. It was easy money and she didn't get nearly as many bruises in Miss Mel's place as she did in Knockturn.
She had regular clients. Not maybe, about four or so, but she never really looked forward to work. Not usually, but there was one that was different. Whenever she was called to his side, she would hurry to dress, she could hasten her steps. She couldn't really help it and that wasn't because of any joy at the man himself. The sex was like all sex to her, because she didn't really get much enjoyment from the act itself anymore. The man himself was often terrifying, so that wasn't it either. The difference was the elixir he carried around with him. It was yellow as sunshine and it warmed her on the inside. It made her smile and laugh and while she knew it was all fake, it still brought her to a state of euphoria that kept her heart beating. So yes, she came to look forward to his calls. She went to him as fast as she could and she was as obedient and pleased him as well as she could. He shared it, he gave her sips every time he came about. On occasion, she would catch her hands shaking when it had been too long since his last visit.
"Welcome back, my lord." Anya stepped inside, shutting the door silently and walking closer. He seemed to be in an all right mood, and she took the vial without hesitation. Drink up, he said, which meant she could have all of its contents, not just a few drops. So she swallowed it all down. Then she set the empty crystal aside and stood before him and sunk to the ground with a bright smile. "How may I be of service tonight, my lord?"
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Post by Admin on Aug 7, 2019 0:59:33 GMT
Rabastan had been pleasantly surprised to learn that his newest toy had more depth to her that what was made available to him between her legs. The witch actually knew things--knew things of history...of the times lost to memory for too many. This gave her a new and different use for him. It was to this end that the Lestrange had come to see Anya tonight. He wished for her to provide him with information. He was a learned man. He had studied at the university many years ago now. But he had little time for deep and laborious research.
Hopefully, that which he wished to know would be readily available in his whore's mind---and if it was not, then she would be instructed to remedy her deficiency before their next liaison. Rabastan knew the witch would be quick about learning what he wanted to know, because just as he had his love for--and need of--those little yellow elixirs, he had began to pull her into that luscious addiction. She would be eager for another taste of that sunshine as quickly as possible. Elixirs were available in shops, but no vial of Euphoria bought in Diagon or even Knockturn could touch the potency and effectiveness of that brewed by his own experienced hand. He had a recipe doctored by himself and Trixie years ago. It's product was unmatched. The indulgence had been one he shared in years long past with Bellatrix--and then more recently with Lia...before his young plaything had been shipped off to St. M's. He enjoyed sharing the escapism.
Anya was as obedient and eager as ever tonight--and it pleased the man greatly. He raked his eyes over her body as she lowered herself before him. A strong hand caressed over the woman's hair and down her cheek. The elixir's effects made her absolutely radiant. He approved--as did his manhood. The strain against his trousers would be dealt with in time. He was in no rush. There was pleasure in anticipation--even with someone he paid to bed. This time was his to do with as he wished--and Rabastan would not be hurried.
Lowering himself--with the grace of proud gentleman--into the chair nearest Anya, he flashed a devious grin at the De Lis girl. "You, my dear Anya, can show yourself as more than just a warm body," Rabastan answered rather cryptically. A wave of his hand conjured ice into a glass and another motion caused the Scotch whiskey he favored--now a permanent fixture in Anya's suite as he as a regular client--to begin to pour itself over the ice. A firm gesture brought the glass levitating smoothly across the room and into his waiting hand. "Unless you have forgotten all you had once learned as a historian. Is that the case, little one?" The wizard asked her pointedly as he reclined into his seat. He took a sip as he awaited her response. Rabastan was curious to see if Anya was eager to be more to him than someone who fulfilled physical needs. He would admire ambition if she showed any. It was not a trait he faulted women for possessing. Obviously Bellatrix and Athena had no shortage of it... One had occupied his mind and heart for decades--and the other had him quite captivated presently.
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Post by Admin on Aug 7, 2019 0:59:39 GMT
Anya had never really desired people, now that she thought of it. Oh, the actions of her job were things she used to enjoy before all this, and often still did, but she couldn't remember a time in which she had actually gone out looking for anything. Her clients were mostly men and she had gotten bored of their physical actions, women were more interesting only because she didn't have them as often. Beyond that, maybe her lack of physical interest stemmed from the fact that she rarely felt any emotional or mental interest for anyone at all. That wasn't all that strange, she was rarely interested in anything lately. Not even breathing. Sometimes she found a book about something obscure or rare and then she bothered to read it, just a short while because her interest waned. She had no purpose in research, not really. Didn't need to do it to live and her mind tended to wander. Or to outright fade away. Truly, though, it was just as well, lately. The only things that made her life a little more bearable were Jules' occasional visits -the boy had more drama than a Shakespearean play, bless him- and Lord Lestrange's calls on her. More importantly, Lord Lestrange's elixirs. It made her eager to see him, impatient for his return, and relieved to be in his presence. Something not many would say, knowing his usual behaviour.
Every time Lord Lestrange arrived, her night got rather more interesting. The elixirs made them pleasant but the man himself... she would not deny that he was dangerous and occasionally terrifying, that he had done unspeakable things, but there was something about him that made her sit up straighter. She felt no emotional attachment to him, but she did feel interest. He was, amongst many things, a very intelligent man and he tended to toy with her more often than not. That which would have annoyed or humiliated her at another time merely became like a game. One that he played with her and one which she agreed to playing in exchange for a single sip of that drink of euphoria. Like now, having had a tiny bit of it, she could not stop the elation from filling her veins. Did her eyes get brighter, did she get a happy blush on her cheeks? She couldn't stop smiling, and it wasn't a manic, horrible smile. It was calm and warm and joyful. The things this drink did to her. She never wanted to lose it, she hadn't felt this at ease since... she couldn't remember, but never before drinking this.
"No, my Lord. I still know my craft." She kneeled by his feet now, hands gently on his knees as she looked up at him. Tilting her head in curiosity, she watched him. What could this be about? To prove she was more than a warm body, well she could certainly do that, but she wondered to what end. There were only so many things she could be useful for, only so much he could want from her. She had no illusions about what she could become to him, he was not any rich man from the street. "How may I be of service?"
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Post by Admin on Aug 7, 2019 0:59:45 GMT
There were no shortage of girls --and boys--available at the Fleur de Lis. Rabastan had bedded the majority of them, if not the entirety of the staff. He was not in the business of keeping up with the employment numbers of the Madame. But of those he saw more than once or twice, there were a very select few that he made a habit of seeing regularly. Anya was the most frequented of any of those who made their living at de Lis. The reasons for this were not explicitly clear in the Lord's mind. Part of it was certainly that she did not resemble either Bellatrix or Athena. He did not wish to be burdened by his late obsession or his intended when he was escaping the world in this place. Further, her conversation was far better than some that found themselves in such employment. Rabastan enjoyed intellect more than he would have ever realized.
He sipped his scotch slowly as the girl dropped to her knees before him. The silent act of submission pleased him. He would have to remember to reward her for that later. Another dosing of the elixir so soon would have her giggling or singing. But later--before he departed, he would gift Anya with a full vial all for herself.
Her words were met with a deft nod of his head. "Very good," the wizard drawled, his deep bass rumbling through the hotel suite. "I would have been most terribly disappointed if you had degraded to only a pretty face." His eyes swept over her features and down what portions of her body he could see from the elevated angle appreciatively.
"I would like for you to tell me what you know of opposition to the statute of secrecy." Rabastan had his own ideas about the centuries old legislation. But he was curious to what had already failed to be persuasive to the masses.
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Post by Admin on Aug 7, 2019 0:59:50 GMT
Anya had at some point in her life decided that she wanted to be a historian. She liked history, it had been entertaining to read all these strange tidbits of information and rare details that were lost in the idealisation of the past. It was funny to read how people messed up, how they were all human. She had been interested in a way that she hadn't been interested about anything since. Of course, it probably had something to do with her depression, but she didn't think too hard about any of it. Working at the Fleur de Lis had definitely not been the work opportunities she'd been looking for when she graduated from Lufkin, but she figured that it was just as well by now. Sitting and reading and doing research wasn't really her cup of tea either.
She used to have a lot of regulars, when she worked in Knockturn Alley. Pretty girl in the rundown apartments that would show you a good time and didn't charge any more than was reasonable? Around those parts, with so many people having a hard time, it had been normal for men to come visit her often. Now that she worked here, her amount of regulars had dwindled. She was fine with that, there was no shortness of work even on slow nights. She was fine. Even her regulars were... sort of normal, sort of safe. As normal and safe as anyone who frequented a brothel could be, really. Rabastan Lestrange was different, she never really knew where she stood with him. She just went ahead and did what pleased him once, hoping it would please him again. If it did or didn't, then she knew that for next time. Every time came paired with a sip or two of his elixir and that made everything worth it. Feeling alive again, there were very few things she wouldn't do.
"The statute, my Lord?" Anya blinked a bit in surprise. Well, it wasn't every day a client asked her about something academic. Then again, Rabastan was not just any client. Her fingers drummed a bit on the man's knees as she thought, trying to remember everything she'd learned. The opposition to the statute of secrecy... "Well, the statute was enforced between the late seventeenth and early eighteenth century here in Britain, by Minister Ulick Gamp. This coincides directly with the last reports of executions for witchcraft by muggles, at least in England. It was believed that hiding from muggles would keep us safe. Most opposition stemmed from the belief that magic and wixen were and are superior to muggles and that therefore we should not be the ones hiding. We should be the ones in charge. Most notably, Grindelwald led a movement for the 'liberation' of magical folk and uprising against muggles. There... were also some minor movements of opposition that claimed we should all live in peace and harmony, but nobody listened to them." She made a dismissive gesture with a hand and then looked up at Rabastan. Was that what he wanted to hear? She'd sort of summarised everything.
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Post by Admin on Aug 7, 2019 0:59:55 GMT
Rabastan was a man changed by prison. He had greater appreciation for freedom—for simple pleasures. But, also changed was his outlook on the world and life. He appreciated the shifts in the wixen world the purists had managed to secure. The realignment of the Sacred Twenty-Eight into seats of power and degradation of those unworthy of honor was good and just. The changes set the world back closer to what it had once been like. Simply to return to the past was not enough, though. The wixen world needed to look to the future.
Was the law of the past appropriate for these times? For this new era? He thought perhaps not. But he was a mind highly educated in the workings of the mind—not in the occurrences of the past. Certainly, he knew about what had transpired in the past. He had studied History of Magic at Hogwarts. He had completed the core curriculum required for all academic study at Lufkin. But he wanted information and perspective from someone with expertise—ideally without raising suspicion about his musings.
Anya was a perfect source. She had academically pursed knowledge of wixen history—but was a whore. There was no danger posed by asking his questions to her. No chance for exposure. She had already proven herself capable of discretion by taking employment under Madame Burke, who would tolerate nothing less. The Lestrange listened to the young witch’s words, honing in on the last of them. He did not particularly want equality with the muggles, but he doubted the wixen population of the world could effectively subjugate the hordes of animals nonmagical. Numbers were too strongly in the favor of those without magic.
He gave an approving smile to Anya, stroking her hair in an almost affectionate manner, before pushing for more information from her. Quirking up an inquisitive brow, he leaned towards the girl, asking: “And, why, do you believe, little one, that Gindelwald failed?”
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Post by Admin on Aug 7, 2019 0:59:59 GMT
It had happened quickly, the surging of this need for Lord Rabastan's potion. Not that she was surprised. Despite her job as a prostitute and the way she mostly seemed to care about shallow things, she was an intelligent person. She knew more than most would expect and as such, she knew why she had been so susceptible to an addiction like this. It was what happened when people were depressed and had nothing to live for, no way to find true happiness by themselves. She had clung to it like a lifeline and she didn't think she would untangle herself any time soon. Not that she had found a reason to do so just yet. Was Lord Rabastan dangerous? Yes, but he wasn't any worse to her than any of her other clients. Perhaps he was a bit more controlling but that didn't much matter to her. The potion made up for that, she was elated when he was here, no matter what he did. It was a natural result of what he shared with her. She thought that this was the only possible outcome for his visits from the second he gave her that first sip.
The closed her eyes for a second at the stroke before looking up again, tilting her head at his next question. For a second, she took her time to think. Why did Grindelwald fail? Well, Dumbledore, but she knew better than to say it to his face. "I think he went about it in the wrong way. He met opposition that he could not face, which wouldn't even have been there if he had sold his view better. People felt like they were fine the way they were, they didn't feel a need to revolt or take control, least of all in a violent way like Grindelwald proposed. He failed because people hated him instead of supported him. Raw power only takes you so far, that's been visible in every uprising of a powerful wizard." Because it's true, isn't it? Powerful people forget that power isn't the only thing they need, that they cannot do anything by themselves. At a certain point, there will be people that overcome their fear of him and will rise up against him. "At least, that is what I think, my Lord."
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Post by Admin on Aug 7, 2019 1:00:04 GMT
The wizard smirked ever slightly as the woman formed an answer for him. He let her lay out her thoughts before speaking again. Rabastan had engaged her in conversation, he was not going to simply speak over the witch whenever he had musing come to his mind. Some men would. But some men felt threatened by women with thoughts in their brains...he had little use for women who didn't. Warm bodies were hardly something to be impressed by.
"He branded his revolution as 'For the Greater Good'. He saw the need for charisma-- he even showed his followers scenes from the second world war. But he still tried to pin down the magicless under his thumb," Rabastan had always been quite fascinated with Grindelwald--and would have likely followed him, if he were alive at the time the man rose to power. "Though I believe the core of why he failed and what you really mean in all you have said is that dominance will always be met with resistance. That is the churn that has overthrown a great number of empires all throughout history. So, how then, my little historian, does one keep the peace--and keep one's head?"
Rabastan was not inclined to go back to Azkaban...Nor was he one to believe that anything gold could stay. If he wanted his freedom, he needed to be whispering things into Rod and Andi's ears that would be good for them all long-term. He enjoyed a muggle massacre as much as anyone with the pent of frustrations of decades spent in prison, but more than he wanted to fling his wand about, he wanted to stay a free man. He wanted to guide those he was allied with towards decisions that could and would benefit them and ensure safety against the changing of the tides.
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Post by Admin on Aug 7, 2019 1:00:11 GMT
Anya thought that most mass movements like that had to have a charismatic leader. No matter what the idea behind it was, if the leader couldn’t sell it then most people wouldn’t be as actively supportive of it. It’d happened many times, both in magical and muggle history. But what had brought their downfall? In every case, it was different. In Grindelwald’s case- well, the people wouldn’t follow him. Some would, those who believed what he said and kept faith in him. But the majority? People are naturally peaceful creatures, despite there being outliers here and there. The whole nature versus nurture dispute. So when people lived comfortable lives, they really didn’t have an incentive to get violent or take up arms. Particularly against an enemy that they weren’t all in contact with. That didn’t all affect them constantly. Yes, they’d hated muggles and wanted their subjugation, but for a lot of them- that wasn’t worth rocking the boat over. They preferred to stew in their malcontent than to risk losing what they already had. Grindelwald hadn’t inspired everyone as much as people thought, only those who were easily influenced. Hungry for power, needy and weak.
But the question- how does one keep the peace? She had never thought about it, really. Though lately, she hadn’t been challenging herself with these kinds of matters. It wasn’t easy to find the motivation to do so, or the interest. Time had passed and she had let herself sink into her depression at an alarming rate. But now, with the effects of the elixir still coursing through her veins, she thought that she could consider these matters a bit more in depth. So how does one who is in power stay in power?
“There’s been a few different opinions on there. Some thing that it’s born through cultivating fear and others through cultivating loyalty. The first is to crack down hard on dissenters, make examples out of the strongest opposition, so they would not even try. The second was a mix of… pleasing the people. That way anything bad that happened would be overlooked.” That had been the idea, but both of those had failed. In the first case, nobody had been able to show themselves powerful enough to squash down all rebellion forever. In the second case, eventually the people started to demand so much that a position of power could not be maintained. Not in the way the one in power wanted it, at least. It was a lot of work, very delicate and with a lot of details. Not something that could be kept up for any realistic length of time, not enough for the conditioning and the indoctrination to kick in.
Was that why Rabastan was asking? Because of the Death Eater regime currently in place? She’d heard that all the muggleborn children had been sent off to a special muggleborn school. Considering the fact that the ones of age had all been put into lower class working positions, basically slave labour, that would be a whole process of teaching children that they belonged beneath their pureblood overlords. Not something that would be quick to learn, not at all. “I don’t know how one would keep the peace for long, especially not without a revolt. Not when a doctrine is being pushed that is so… well, not controversial, but it is hostile to a lot of people. In the case of Grindelwald, there were plenty of wixen that interacted with muggles often. Maybe were even friends or family. Perhaps the way to not meet any resistance is to… not enforce something that would warrant conflict. Or at least keep it hidden.”
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