Schools Out For... Winter? → Tiffany Lestrange

[Ophelia Rookwood]

Phe had been much happier in herself lately. Things were looking up for her and she had a lot to be thankful for. Even Christmas, maybe her mother wasn't at home (big surprise) so she had to spend it with her aunt - well some of it - she and Luke had gotten back together (again) so she was fully intending on spending most of the holidays with him. 

She looked healthier too, with Brent being sick he hadn't really been able to keep up his reign of terror, the usual bruised skin of her tiny body had healed, the cuts, the scars, they were fading, the dark circles around her eyes had cleared up and the smile on her face seemed somewhat genuine. 

She'd just gotten home from a shopping trip and walked through the front door of Lestrange manor, bag in hand she stopped for a moment to glance at Brent who looked close to passing out as he perched on the bottom step. Seeming completely out of it (mainly from the potions he was taking to help the pain). He'd been practically begging her for the past fortnight to get Luke's cousin, Court Marwick to help him, being he was a healer and all. Though she'd point blank refused seeing as she kind of liked seeing him in agony. 
Passing by him as though he didn't exist she continued up the stairs, stopping by Tiffs bedroom door. Knocking loudly, she pushed the door open and spoke out in a somewhat bored monotone, as though it was happening a lot recently. "Your other half is getting blood on the carpet again, now we both know how happy that makes your mother." Phe shrugged, his free hand reaching to twirl her hair around her finger. "Cant you just put him out in the kennels or something?" 

[Tiffany Lestrange]

"Don't be cruel, he's ill." Tiffany said, not looking up from the magazine splayed open in front of her. Her whole face was taking part in her frown, eyes downcast & flicking furiously back & forth across the spread in front of her.

Where is Esma Lestrange?

Witch Weekly delves into tracking down our favourite train wreck celebutante that has, once again, fallen off of the face of the earth. What is it this time, Es? Drugs? Absconding to France & marrying an elderly dragon trader? We miss you, sweetheart. Pretty please come back to London & ruin yourself a little more publicly.

Tiffany flung the magazine so violently across the room that it managed to hit the opposite wall before landing on the carpet, the brunette standing up sharply & making a stabbing motion with her wand at it, a furious half-scream escaping her as the pages curled into flames. "What a fucking rag!" she snapped, cheeks red as she turned to Ophelia. Her hands shook as she curled & uncurled them in fists at her sides, pacing back & forth in a small oval on the carpet.

[Ophelia Rookwood]

"All the more reason to put him out in the cold." Phe answered cruelly, a shrug rolling from her shoulders. She wasn't about to deny that she enjoyed seeing him hurting. And the fact he never had the energy to push her around anymore. She felt safe in her own skin for the first time in a long tome.

Raising a brow at Tiffs outburst, the brunette took a step into the room. "Dare I even ask?" She questioned, her head tilting sideways slightly as she moved her hand from her hair to shove the bags up her other arm just a little further.

[Tiffany Lestrange]

"You haven't heard from Es, have you? You'd tell me if you did, right? You wouldn't lie to me?" she turned & faced Ophelia, eyes wild & fiery. Her paranoia hadn't become much better, clearly, still thinking that everyone around her was out to get her. Maybe that was why she seemed to comfortable around Brent when not many others did - he was usually upfront about anything he had against her. If she angered him, it usually ended in a fist fight, not with him going behind her back to plan something more sinister. She couldn't help but feel like everyone in the manor whispered around her, like she walked in to a room just as people stopped talking about her. She might have been right - but it probably wasn't that anyone was 'conspiring' against her, more likely they were just gossiping. Still, to a half-lunatic, it seemed enough reason to stay cooped up along in her room.

[Ophelia Rookwood]

"Es?" Ophelia questioned, as though she was the last person on her mind. Shrugging her shoulders she shook her head, just once, very softly that it was barely even a shake. "Haven't heard from her in weeks." She answered truthfully, her brow cocking slightly at her older cousin. "Tiff, you're paranoid, calm down. Last I saw of her she said she wanted to sort her life out and start going to school more often, you know, not being in the same country probably does mean you're not gonna see her, she's only in France. I wouldn't be too worried." Musing for a moment, she let out a soft sigh. "Could ask Luke, they've been pretty close as of late. She helped him out with a couple of things, he's probably still in touch with her." She added, her teeth biting down just a little on her lower lip as she shrugged. "He might know whats going on with her. Have you tried owling her?"

[Tiffany Lestrange]

"She ignores my owls." Tiffany mumbled, so softly that it was hardly audible. Her expression switched from angry to lonely in mere seconds. Lonely was the only word to properly describe the brunette without her trusty partner-in-crime. Half of who she was before she'd lost her mind was because of Esma, & it was very unlikely that the 'old tiff' that everyone told her they wanted back would ever bother coming back without the other Lestrange around to help. 

"Besides," Tiffany started, "she should be owling me." she huffed, "I'm not the one who straight out abandoned her." Wrapping her arms protectively around herself, Tiffany sunk back down to sit on the side of her bed, reaching for Brent's shirt that hung from the headboard & pulling it close. "You went shopping." she observed, trying to change the subject and distract herself, eying Ophelia's bags curiously as she nuzzled absentmindedly into the shirt in her hands.

[Ophelia Rookwood]

"She's probably just busy." Ophelia responded, the house so quiet you could probably hear a pin drop on the floor below them. Shifting on the spot, Phe moved a meter or so, resting against one of Tiffs dressers, her head tilting slightly in the direction of her cousin, almost wondering what was running through her mind.

"She didn't abandon you." Phe added, her head shaking just slightly. "She was busy, she went back to Beauxbatons, she just wasn't happy here. It's not a matter of abandonment. Who wouldn't escape this place with half the chance?" The brunette almost grumbled as she dampened her lower lip, her hand moving to pull her hair to the right side of her shoulders. "I went shopping." She repeated, head nodding. "Last minute Christmas presents, for Luke." She added, shrugging softly. "Nothing too interesting."

[Tiffany Lestrange]

Tiffany tightened a little. Who wouldn't escape this place with half the chance? She wouldn't. Half of the time she wanted to escape whatever other place she was to come back here. Turning her full attention to the bags, she raised her brows a little, sitting up straighter & gently setting the shirt aside, keeping her one hand tangled up in it. 

"Right. Christmas. Practically forgot." she lied. It was half of why she was even home. She sort of hoped Soleus or Esma or both would just appear on their doorstep. That, and, to escape the horrific cheer that was suffocating her at every turn in the castle.