Application
Who Are You?
Name: Kit
Age: 22
E-mail: edgeofsilk@yahoo.com
Contact Information: AIM: iswearingblack
Timezone: MST
Availability: Just about every night; not always on Saturdays
Experience: I've only played Rabastan in PSLs, so I can't exactly link them. Sorreh. D: The most recent characters I've played (within the HP fandom) were Tom Marvolo Riddle (riddling @ houseofgaunt), Sirius Black (itspadfoot @ houseofgaunt) and Marvolo Gaunt (wretchedgaunt @ houseofgaunt)

Who is Your Character?
Full Name: Rabastan Lestrange
Nicknames: Very few people call him "Rab," otherwise it's just Rabastan. He will never answer to "Stan."
Age/Birthday: 19/September 2, 1959
House and Years Attended: Slytherin/All 7
Blood Status: Pure-blood
Occupation: Death Eater N/A The Lestrange Vaults are plentiful
Alliance: Death Eater
Boggart: Rodolphus dead (though this would surprise him as he would expect it to be his father banishing him from the family)
Patronus: Incapable of producing one; though if he could, it would be a mosquito

Personality (include several weaknesses and strengths):
Always overshadowed by his older brother, Rodolphus, Rabastan has a tendency to be bitter, almost chronically, but especially when he feels ignored. Despite being annoyed when attention isn't focused on him, he doesn't go out of his way to gain it. Rabastan hides in the shadows, speaking seldom. Long rants issuing from his mouth are few and far between. Though he's more than capable of working well with others, he doesn't go out of his way to socialise. He's very hypocritical in that sense (and in many others, for that matter).

For those who don't know him very well, he comes off quiet, minding his own business. While these factors are true, they often lead to the misconception that Rabastan is a 'good boy.' As they say, watch out for the quiet ones...

He generally does follow his brother's advice, even if he acts reluctant about it. Oddly enough, it's usually the times he chooses to ignore him that he finds himself in trouble. Rodolphus is one of the few people Rabastan won't lie to (more or less, he'll be less likely to lie to), the other two being the Dark Lord and his father. For everyone else... they can never be too sure. He'll say one thing but may very well do another, though not always.

Contrary to most Death Eaters, Rabastan doesn't lust for power in the magical sense; he holds a perverse sense of pleasure for hurting others, much like his (expected?) sister-in-law, Bellatrix Lestrange. Unlike her, he doesn't get kicks for doing it in the name of the Dark Lord; it's a very personal experience. He doesn't care for mass slaughterings; he prefers to be up close and personal, smelling their fear, hearing their whimpers, literally watching the light leave their eyes, for that brief moment when he reigns as God, deciding whether they live or die. These happenings are the only moments Rabastan feels he has the control, the authority, as he typically has to look up to others the majority of the time.

This has a tendency to lead him into trouble. When he finds himself ignored or disregarded for an extended period of time, he becomes bored, deciding to satisfy himself of his own accord. This has led to victims falling from his hand that the Dark Lord didn't necessarily want touched (i.e. One time, he was stationed to keep watch on a hostage, and he killed them before the ransom was secure, despite the fact he said he wouldn't.). This brashness and unpredictability has had many learn not to trust him with leadership. Luckily for Rabastan, mindful brother Rodolphus was there to save his arse... again.

He relies a little too heavily on his brother to cover for him. Rabastan doesn't handle stress well. When he's left to handle a serious problem at his lonesome, he's sent into a panic, which can lead to a temporary, unproductive state of hysteria if he cannot solve it quickly enough. Rabastan's creative problem solving is generally limited to finding new means of torture.

Of course, Rabastan can dish it out but can't take it. He'll laugh maniacally when someone cowers before him, inflicting as much physical pain and mental anguish as he can... then whine when he gets a paper cut.

To those who do know him better, they might suggest that he is mad. Though his mentality isn't exactly stable, as he doesn't appear to feel the least remorseful for his victims, he is not truly mad. He's perfectly capable of being reasonable and is for the majority of the time. He treats other pure-bloods very respectfully, and even though he doesn't show it often, if at all, he cares deeply for his brother and would do anything for him. Unfortunately, he generally acts very childishly toward him. As far as his 'mad' elements, he does them of his own free will.

Family and Friends (list relationships with them):
Rodolphus Lestrange - Rabastan's older brother, whom he respects and admires greatly, even if he doesn't always show it. Rodolphus is probably the only person Rabastan truly loves.
Ursula Lestrange - Rabastan's mother. Aside from having immense pure-blood ideals, Ursula was a kind woman. Rabastan strove to show her respect but is more set on impressing his father.
Cepheus Lestange - Rabastan's father. Cepheus focused his attention to Rodolphus, as he was the heir. Rabastan frequently did anything and everything in his power to gain his father's attention and approval.
He had many agreeable acquaintances during school and very few he truly considered "friend."
Appearance:
Like Rodolphus, Rabastan inherited many of his father's physical traits, such as his height, nearing six feet, as well as his dark hair and eyes. However, his facial features hold truer to his mother, fine and delicate. As he isn't one for many outdoor activities--and typically remains heavily draped in robes, keeping the hood pulled up when he is outdoors for extended periods of time--his skin-tone is rather pale. His heavy robes have a tendency to hide his defined physique, slender for the most part, though being an active Death Eater gave him a little definition.

Growing up in a pure-blood home and strict to pure-blood ways, Rabastan is almost always seen wearing robes or a cloak of some sort. These are typically black, not because of his Death Eater status, he just likes them. He almost always appears to be dressed aristocratically, like he were going to some fine dinner, even in casual environments. He wouldn't dream of wearing Muggle attire and does not know, nor care, what the latest is in Muggle fashion.

Rabastan could very well be considered handsome like his brother, though many don't see this. His expressions typically being glowering, pouting or mad with joy have a tendency to mask his attractive visage. Also, his odd behaviour sets him off, so many don't find him attractive because of that. Rabastan doesn't realise his physical blessings, thus he never tried to use them to charm ladies the way Rodolphus could.
PB: Hayden Christensen
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Achievements: Excelled in Defence Against the Dark Arts as well as Potions. He took top marks on his OWLs and NEWTs for those classes.
Hobbies: Rabastan does have hobbies; they just aren't... conventional. He likes experimenting with magic and substances with magical properties. It doesn't matter if it's something well known. If he hasn't done it before, it's new to him. While he prefers his "test subjects" to be people, this usually can't be and isn't the case, so he'll find some poor, defenceless creature, instead.

Biography:
Sleet clouded much of the lower portion of England the day Rabastan was born. Second born to the family who already birthed their heir many years prior and never intended on having a second son, he couldn't help but feel envious of his older brother, Rodolphus. Their parents spoiled each of them with material goods rather than affection, instilling the ways of the noble pure-blood mentality at a young age.

Rabastan always looked up to Rodolphus, always trying to be like him and achieve the type of praise his brother received from his father. Unfortunately for Rabastan, he wasn't the heir, so his father hardly paid him any mind. His mother wasn't particularly maternal, kind to him, yes, but she mostly let their house-elves take care of the raising aspect.

His older brother always seemed very fond of him, always looking out for him and including him in games, despite their age difference. Rabastan hardly expressed the fondness back toward his brother, even though he did love him and looked up to him; he always had a tendency to show his resentment.

Rodolphus was accepted to Hogwarts before he could really remember. Much of his childhood was spent jealous that he couldn't go with him. He found his time at home without his brother very dull, killing his boredom by picking on house-elves, up until the point it reached a severity that his mother became very upset over it. After that, he directed these torments to animals he found in the garden. It started with just throwing rocks then progressed to capturing and torturing them in the most inhumane ways possible until he became bored and killed them.

This behaviour seemed to disturb his mother, but his father always said that he was "just becoming a man," so they didn't ever stop him from doing it, and it was the closest thing to praise he ever received from his father.

By the time Rabastan was accepted into Hogwarts, Rodolphus had graduated. He was secretly disappointed that he didn't get to spend it with him but was ecstatic to receive his own wand. It hadn't been his first time to Diagon Alley, definitely not the last, but perhaps the most memorable.

Since Rabastan wasn't particularly sociable, he was lucky to have already been acquainted with many pure-blood children whose parents associated with him. There were only a few he really considered close friends.

The Sorting Hat hesitated before proclaiming him a Slytherin. Although the hesitation lasted a mere second, it felt like an eternity for Rabastan. Immense relief washed over him when he had been sorted; he had silently worried that he may not have been put into Slytherin.

In another attempt to impress his father, Rabastan applied himself to his studies, which was difficult considering how well Rodolphus achieved. Like his brother, Rabastan found himself the most fascinated with Defence Against the Dark Arts, enjoying the Dark Arts aspect more than the Defence Against.

He found himself thoroughly entertained by trying out these spells out on classmates from other houses. While Rodolphus became quite popular and admired by his peers during his own time at Hogwarts, Rabastan was regarded as the quiet creepy kid.

During his summer breaks, Rabastan applied his knowledge of jinxes and hexes on the animals in the garden. Because of his pure-blood parents, he wasn't ever scolded by the Ministry for doing so. His parents frequently set off the trace as is by performing magic around him and Rodolphus, so they couldn't tell.

Rodolphus joined the Death Eaters during Rabastan's early school years. As much as he wanted to join then, not only because he believed in the Dark Lord's cause but because he was envious that his brother had impressed his parents before him yet again, his father told him he had to finish his studies.

Bitterly, Rabastan continued school, taking the Mark literally the day after graduation.

Rabastan never married. While he was just as good looking as Rodolphus, he didn't realise it, so he never developed the ability to charm ladies, coming off as too quiet and odd for most girls' likings. As he wasn't the heir, his father never bothered to arrange a marriage for him. He did, however, develop a crush (which still remains) on his sister-in-law's youngest sibling, Narcissa Black. Of course, her intentions toward Lucius Malfoy were quite clear, so he kept it to himself. However, that didn't (and doesn't) stop him from revealing his friendly side in her company.

But Rabastan actually didn't mind that. He had directed most of his teenage hormones to hurting others rather than chasing women. This eventually led him to being quite the perfect Death Eater. He took his torments farther than ever before. Rabastan didn't care for the Killing Curse, too quick and easy for his liking, he much preferred drawing out his victims' agony as long as he could, taking special interest if the victim was female.

The Dark Lord acknowledged his talents and loyalties, allowing him into his inner most circle. He didn't just take him in because of the tie through his father. He and Rodolphus were taken in at the same time, the only time Rodolphus hadn't achieved something first. It was a very proud day for Rabastan indeed.

Journal Sample:
This was for another game, but it wasn't used. Hope that's okay. If you would like me to write something else, I will gladly do so. :)

[Private to self]
Flipping through these journal entries has officially made my day. Already, word of our return eagerly spreads. I don't suppose the Dark Lord is pleased about this. I imagine he wanted to keep a low profile for a while longer. Nonetheless, it's fascinating how quickly fear can spread, despite us having yet to do anything. My fingertips are literally tingling from simply reading through the entries. I can't imagine how I'll feel if I were to encounter them personally. I can see it now...

I hope the Dark Lord sends word soon. I'll be sure to be standing at the front of the lines when we take our rightful reign over the wizarding world once more. Sitting and writing journal entries wasn't exactly what I had in mind upon our return. I want to be active, wipe out entire families, shooting Dark Mark's over their homes. Oh, how I've missed it. I can barely hold my quill. I suppose finding some Muggle vagrant wouldn't be too difficult....

I have yet to hear from Rodolphus since my return, and in all honesty, that worries me. The time passed since we've last spoken has been far too long for my liking. I do hope he returned to England with everything in order. I wonder if he is even here? Would Bellatrix know? I reckon I ought to ask her...
[/Private]

[Private to Bellatrix Lestrange]
Oi, Bella, where's your husband? He owes me a favour.
[/Private]

What is the point of writing in these journals? It's stupid and boring. I reckon this where I’m supposed to write, ‘Hello, my name is... How do you do?’ but, ah... no.

RP Sample:
Same applies to this sample.

Excitement coursed through Rabastan’s veins. He sat against the desk, clinging to the edge, to the point his knuckles turned white, just so he could stay standing.

They were going back. They were really going back.

Rabastan threw his head back with a derisive laugh. How he longed for this moment. They had been driven out of England all those years ago, but he knew better. He knew their time would come, once again, when they would be returning, inflicting their reign of terror once more.

Turning from the desk, Rabastan planted himself into his seat, plunging his heels into the floor to pull himself close to it. He hadn’t heard from Rodolphus in a while; he wanted to make sure the word had spread.

Living in hiding hadn’t quite taken it’s toll on Rabastan--close, but not fully. He had done his best to lay low, but ultimately, his more predatory instincts had gotten the better of him. Despite this, he had long since grown bored, wishing for the day of their return to come as soon as possible.

And here it was.

Unravelling a scroll of parchment, Rabastan snatched his quill from the fountain and eagerly put the words to the paper. He couldn’t help but notice his tone was coming off overly friendly in the letter, but all things considered, Rabastan was in a really great mood. Yeah, he’d chalk it up to that.

Standing from his seat, he held the parchment directly in front of his face to give it a quick read through. Satisfied, he let go with one hand, casually snapping his fingers by his head, followed by the resounding crack of a house-elf's sudden appearance.

"Have tea ready when I come back," he said, not even looking in the elf's direction. He kept his gaze focused on the parchment as he folded it in his hands. As the house-elf bowed, Rabastan threw him a glance, "accidentally" stepping on his foot as he walked past. A sinister smirk drew across his lips as the elf squealed behind him.

"Terribly sorry," Rabastan rather dryly said. He caught sight of the house-elf jerkily nodding right before he closed the door.