We Want the T.ruth!!! Closed

Mentioning @Howard White & @Falentra Black
Closed to interactions - Just posting here once as set-up for another thread

Phaedra was a painfully slow and dainty eater, especially with the icing and sprinkles abomination being led to her mouth by the spoonful. It wasn't often that she treated herself to dessert, and even rarer was her decision to leave her textbooks in her dormitory where they belonged to take the rest of her evening easy for once. Letting out a laugh at a tablemate's joke, Phaedra scraped the sides of her pudding cup before a boy's voice reached her ears. His dramatic crash through the Great Hall doors went unnoticed to her over the general chatter, but hearing the words "Hogwarts Headliner" strung together with such ferocity was what attained her full attention. After all, the newspaper was by far her biggest project; an attack on it was practically personal.

Her good mood instantly faltered, and with a sour face, she turned in her seat to gander at the quickly developing crowd. "What? The Headliner?" Phaedra asked to the girl sitting across from her, making sure she'd processed correctly. Nothing like this had ever happened before. She had almost two years as Headliner secretary under her belt and not once had its contents elicited such a reaction, but no one ever said journalism came without its downsides. "Look at him, embarrassing himself. What's he on about? They're going to give me a migraine."

The Hufflepuff one commanded most of everyone's attention, opening up the conspicuous bag near his feet that Phaedra tightened her fists at, as the Slytherin girl lurked behind him like a shadow. Considering the subject of Howard's ranting, no speculation was necessary on what they carried inside it, and he quickly confirmed her fears when he held up a copy of Issue 11 from last November. He dropped the issue to the floor again and said something Phaedra couldn't make out to Falentra. But one thing was still up for question: what was on their clothes? Too bright to be blood, Phaedra noted, peering at the couple from head to toe. Is that... paint?

Phaedra narrowed her eyes. Now why would their clothes be stained with paint? Perhaps she was just being paranoid, but the feeling of something terribly wrong washed over her, her stomach suddenly tying itself into what felt like knots. She found herself trying to connect the dots; when was the last time she stopped by the newspaper office that day? Had she locked the door? Where'd they find those old copies from? While Phaedra tried to recollect, Falentra whipped out her wand and shot out green flames at the pile. The fourteen-year-old decided she had seen enough and tore her eyes away from the scene. Pushing herself up from the bench, she muttered a rare lexicon—from her at least—that would drive her mother's hand across her head had she been present to hear it:

"Oh, these complete arseholes. I have to go."

The clatter of her utensils against the wood sang out to the few students still sitting at her table. Attempting to bring as little attention to herself as possible, Phaedra made a dash for the doors to slip past the now arguing crowd, a hand blocking her face. Screw the theatrical monologuing. That could come later. All she cared about was their office space. They better hadn't. Those two better not have put a goddamn finger on Alexx's and her office.

Phaedra leaves thread for the Headliner Office. Continued HERE.

At the far end of the Slytherin table, Nico had been drawn deep into one of her sketches. She had been trying to get back into drawing as of late. Yet her lack of sleep still had a strong grip on her. Thankfully she was skillful enough to not lose her talent of stroking gorgeous lines and almost strikingly beautiful mystical creatures. Now and then, the drawings would come to life and run around on the white pages. The dhampir had no idea how it worked. It had been the one reason why she got sent to this school in the first place. A soft smile tugged on her lips as a few circles connected with lines started to dance around, suggesting the movement of a horse. Absentmindedly, Nico took a bite of an apple that had been eagerly waiting in her plate to be munched on.

It was peaceful. For once.

That didn't last long, unfortunately.

A loud banging noise which came from the entrance of the Great Hall. With a slight yelp, the red apple slipped out of her pale hands, as she quickly turned to look at the commotion. Two students. One who she could vaguely recognise as a Slytherin one and... Howard? This... couldn't be good. The only few times she had seen Howard, he was angry. Mad. Rightfully so. But that he again showed up, again looked furious... This couldn't be good at all. Nico felt anxious. What was going on? She breathed in sharply once she saw the paper he held up. The article about dhampirs. 'F-..fuck' She muttered under her breath.

Howard called out for the one who wrote it. He basicly challenged them. The redhead slowely got up, forgetting the sketches beside her as she slowely yet at a steady pace approached the two students.

Beside him, a huge bag filled with more copies of the same edition of the Daily Prophet. His companion got the order to set it aflame. To make a point, of course. Nico wasn't daft. She knew he was trying to set something in motion. However, she ... rather wanted things to be low profile. Like she has been trying to be for a while now. Months. The fear of her peers judging her had her throat clutched tightly in its grip. Should she speak up...? As far as she could tell, she was the only dhampir here next to Howard.

Nico swallowed softly, again setting some steps closer. She had to do something. As both a dhampir and a Prefect. Multiple students had a say about the situation. A girl that basicly accepted Howards challenge, not stepping aside from her believes. If that was the case... Another Ravenclaw boy who most likely was a writer aswell, since he brought up the freedom of speech. Of having an opinion. Nico sighed and rubbed her elbow, trying to muster all the courage she had.
A Hufflepuff boy, he must've been a first year telling from his cracky voice, almost hitting puberty. He started shouting accusations. Howard nearly killed someone?
Her eyes widened slightly as she looked from the first year to Howard. Nico didn't know much about Howard. All she knew is that he was like her. And there weren't alot of them around.
He understood her pain. The wary looks of fellow students when you walk down the corridors and hallways. Always... on edge.

But she couldn't let him make this scene. She had to calm them down in everyway she could.

Pushing through the crowd, she'd stand between the girl who accepted their challenge and Howard with his companion. 'We're not monsters!' She raised her voice, hoping to get everyones attention. 'I-...' Little taken aback by realising she stood in the center of it all, she cleared her throat. 'How would you feel if someone wrote an article about how to attack a student? A regular student? Imagine that... they'd specify to attack redheads. We have alot of them.' She carefully lifted a piece of her hair and looked around, locking eyes with other gingers. 'Imagine having to read something like that and then to try not to feel frightened to be... a target by certain individuals.' The pale child turned to Jorah, the one who shouted about press-freedom. 'Yes. You should be allowed to write whatever you want but... this article? It basicly invites others to stand up and chase us down.' A few red tears lingered in the corner of her eyes. Usually she'd try to wipe them off, but not this time. There was no need for it. The truth was out there. Litteraly. 'Some of you aren't saints either... You don't know what it's like...'

'We can settle this without violence.' With ice blue eyes, Nico carefully turned to Howard, her lip quivered slightly as she tried her best not to let her emotions flow. 'Please...'

Abilities : Lovely Creature & Unsetteling Aura [OFF]

@Kit Paine | @Howard White | @Jorah Moussa
Everyone else

More babysitting. For students older than him, no less!

Jack had half a mind to get up from his table, get out his wand, and start zapping students left and right with one of his most favored spells - the Freezing Charm. Instead, he closed his eyes, took several deep breaths, and listened as best he could to those who had chosen to speak up in order to get the clearest idea he could of what, exactly, all the bellowing, fire, and fuss was about.

It grew gradually more and more difficult to restrain himself from taking impulsive action when a Ravenclaw boy took a stand atop his own house table with what looked like berry mush and juice dribbling down his face in a playful mockery of war paint. The grip on his wand tightened with annoyance, but he did not draw it. There was enough drama playing out; did he really need to add to it for what appeared to be nothing more than his own entertainment?

"Too bad that lung-stabbing didn't seem to end up permanently affecting your voice capabilities any," Jack muttered sourly under his breath, unable bear gazing upon the ludicrous eagle. He asked himself, not for the first or even the tenth time, why some people were selected to be Ravenclaws when that house's members were supposed to value intellect and learning above all else.

The more the blueberry-stained student talked, the lower the Slytherin's opinion of him was falling. 'Badong'? Superman? Batman? Kryptonite? Really?! Just what he needed...one of those ignoramuses who believed in heroes and villains; in good and evil. Throwing down his napkin, the second year decided he wasn't going to be eating any more of his supper that evening. He suddenly didn't feel very hungry anymore.

Whether or not the brunette girl or the blueberry clown were truly the writers of the article as they implied or claimed, Jack had no idea. He didn't really care, either. Yes, the article in question had been quite extreme in its views and he easily see why it might have been considered offensive. Yet as someone who provoked people for a hobby, the redhead felt as though the piece read strangely; like it had been intentionally written for the main purpose of inciting hostility among the beings it had called into question. In that case, the volatile Howard was an ideal target. Was a message meant to be sent here and the author using the fourth year dhampir as their messenger? Regardless, the whole thing stank of fallacies to Jack.

More and more children began to join the group gathered along with Howard and his fire-setting companion. Some seemed to agree with them and some seemed just as adamantly against them. The Slytherin sighed deeply and pushed himself up from his place at the table. He looked for all the world like a pissed-off kid who had been selected to get up on stage for a magic show against his will and was missing his favorite television program because of it.

Jack knew dhampirs, of course. He was actually rather fond of at least a couple of them; Deathmote and Shymane. Howard White he only knew by reputation, but dhampir or not, he sounded like he had one of the nastiest tempers known to the Hufflepuff House that year. Fortunately for him, Jack was also familiar with nasty tempers. He used to regularly escalate them even in his old muggle school just for fun. It was for this reason that he that that maybe, just maybe, he could convince himself to try talking some reason into Howard and his lackeys.

If he succeeded, all the better to have had a chance to practice his weapons of words and logic. If he failed...well, what was the worst that could happen? Bodily injuries? Surely Howard wasn't capable of dealing what Jack might have considered a truly dangerous blow. Not like his pal, Erin Ryan, who thankfully didn't seem to be around just then.

It was then that the Welsh boy's ears caught wind of a familiar voice; none other than Nico Shymane's. He blinked and glanced around, attempting to locate her before realizing that she, too, had left their house table to approach the chaos-causers. It made sense, of course, given that she was both a dhampir and a prefect, but Jack knew she also seemed like an emotional and sensitive girl.

Having been thrust into a situation like this, whether it was her choice or duty or not, must have been incredibly difficult for her. That much became evident in her expression, voice, body language - all forms of communication as the strawberry blonde did her best to make her words heard. Jack's brow creased with concern and sympathy, particularly when his gaze fell upon her tears of blood and trembling lip. He couldn't allow her to do this alone.

Jack stepped up beside her, gently reaching out to lightly touch her arm if she would let him to convey his unspoken support and what he hoped she would identify as comfort. She needed to know he wasn't on the side that the article proposed. Then he calmly turned to address Howard himself.

"Your feelings are valid," he said. "Yours, Shymane's, and all the others who take offense to the article. But," the boy continued, voice firm, "those same feelings are also clouding your rationality at the moment. What you say and do now will only be considered the words and actions of an angry madman and a half-breed one at that. You'll just end up further harming the image and reputations of yourself and everyone like you." He threw Nico a fleeting glance before looking back at the Hufflepuff. "This is not the way to get what you want."

His lips twisted, thick brows lowering as hazel irises flicked over to the young woman who had set fire to the papers (Falentra). "Your actions are scaring people. When you fuel the fire literally, you're doing it figuratively, too. The more you draw attention to that article, the more people are going to want to seek it out and want to read it - for curiosity's sake, if nothing else. And, regardless of how many copies you've just incinerated, I can guarantee there are and will be more left throughout the castle for others to read."

Jack stepped closer toward Howard as if daring him to to do something about it. "What good will publicly exposing the writer of this article do you?" he wanted to know. "Wouldn't it be better to denounce the myths and slander of the article itself? Starting with what really happened to cause the attack mentioned in the paper, perhaps...?" He inclined his head. "Instead of screaming for the truth from others, why not start by offering your own? If you happen to know it, of course."

@Howard White, @Falentra Black, @Kit Paine, @Jorah Moussa, @Heinrich Bezuidenhout, & @Nico Shymane

OOC: Thank you all so much for your interest in this thread. I wasn't quite expecting so many members to get involved! Due to how many have joined, Falentra and I have reconsidered having a posting order. It would just be too complicated and take way too long with this many people involved. So, please feel free to post at your leisure.

Howard would raise his fists in a moment of triumph as @Falentra Black set the papers ablaze with her conjured green flames. As the initial burst of energy lit up the area around them and sent a flash of heat to those nearby, she would join him in calling out the school paper and demanding the identity of the mysterious T. Ruth. His eyes would avert from the scene for just a brief moment to connect with hers. Just long enough for him to express non verbal gratitude. She had stood by his side, supporting him as he processed these complicated emotions and urged him into action when he felt stuck at the crossroads. They would both surely pay for their actions on this day, but it was a moment that neither one of them were sure to forget.

The initial burst of flames would diminish slightly as they consumed their fuel, but it had done the trick of grabbing people's attentions. The student body was well trained to react to fire. It was in their human instinct to be wary of it, but especially so for those that attended Hogwarts. As Howard continued to pace back and forth another voice would join his and Falentra's. He would turn to see one of the younger students ( @Valencia Deathstout ) had taken up the protest. It was a bold move for one of her age, but a move that Howard would appreciate and respect. Action would always speak louder than words in his ear. As his eyes quickly scanned her he would see the striking red hair that so many a witch and wizard seemed to possess, but that would be the last of her common features. Her skin would be much like his own, closer to death than that of the living and her eyes appeared almost silver. Howard could not be certain, but he would assume that she was Dhampir. With a nod of approval, he would encourage her to continue.

Howard's red eyes would go back to the crowd before him. Some familiar faces would stand out. @Opeila Winters caught his eye for the briefest moment, her expression one of concern before she turned and searched her house table. The two didn't know each other well, only sharing a brief conversation about the darkness housed within Hogwarts. @Kazuo Shimada stood from the Hufflepuff table. His little partner in mystery and potential friend? Yes, all things were possible in this crazy castle. Would these two students continue to observe from the sideline or would the growing chaos of the moment urge them into action?

The flash of a couple spells would draw Howard's gaze back to the scene before him. In quick succession, a girl unknown to him ( @Kit Paine ) would extinguish the flames and disperse of the ashy mess. Howard would cross his arms and his eyes would harden as the first to challenge him stepped forth. "If ya tell me your T. Ruth, then I'll tell ya ta fuck right off!" The Dhampir clapped back. His voice not as loud as before, but hard enough to let his growing anger show. "Bite you?! Are you fuckin' serious?" He scoffed at the girl's remarks, but it would be her next wording that would cause a flash of fury to jet through Howard's gaze. Monster. The very wording the article had implied, the very reason he stood here in demonstration. He would be quick to judge and his judgment would be harsh. "Purist piece of shite!"

Howard wouldn't have to stick up for himself long as another girl ( @Eri Windstone ) burst on the scene. Her height and physical presence could be intimidating and marked her as an upperclassmen. "That's right!" Howard would shout in agreement as he came to stand near her. This girl's word highlighted the root of the argument. Were they to be deemed monsters just because they were born of a different nature? Do you blame the lion for hunting the gazelle, or is that just the circle of life? As the other girl argued that Howard was in fact just a monster, perhaps there was some truth to her words. Was it wrong for her to want to protect humanity? Although we appreciate the lion for what it is, we also do fear it and keep it a bay, but Howard was a boy of two natures. Both the undead and human shared one vessel. Was that part of him not to be recognized?

The drama of the scene would not go unnoticed by both @Evelynn Decipio and @Jackson Valentine. The shouting and flare of the spell would grab their attention and perhaps so did the words Hogwarts Headliner and T. Ruth. The pair would have to investigate further to find out the source of the shouting and protest. Was this just the results of a boy being kicked in the groin or perhaps there was a bit more to the story than that.

Yet another Raven would join the debacle as boy ( @Jorah Moussa ) began a rant like no other. Perhaps one too many slices of blueberry pie. Howard's eyes would widen as he was momentarily taken aback by the boy's tirade. Muggle references would clash with made up words, but beneath it all the boy had a valid point. Doesn't freedom of speech and press stand as the staple to any great democracy? A loaded question indeed. While the right to question should be held sacred, does misinformation not pose an equal threat as censorship? "Don't blame this on Hufflepuff, ya jackass!" Howard would respond in a rare moment of house pride. "Ya barely makin' any sense ya dolt! Course ya got the right to know what's what, but this paper is publishin' articles that are completely one sided. It was only one of ya's that even tried to tell the other side. The rest just sat back and did nothin'!" It was true. Only @Pericles Dralt had made the effort to tell Howard's explanation of what happened that day in the Owlery, but were the others really guilty of complicity? Howard surely thought so. "Oh! Alright! Ya all gonna be T. Ruth all of the sudden!?" His frustration was mounting as yet another claimed to be the mysterious author.

However, the next face to appear would divert him from his rage as the slightest tinge of guilt crept through his belly. None other than @Heinrich Bezuidenhout, the younger brother of Howard's accidental victim would march up to him and take his stand. The younger Hufflepuff was a perfect example of the duality that was Howard. Yes, he had bit Aurelia and gravely wounded her in a moment of fear and weakness. The predator within had taken control. However, not even a month earlier, Howard had jumped to Heinrich's aid and saved him from certain doom. Howard's humanity had taken the wheel that day. Both his loyalty to house and the urge to preserve human life had been the driving force that pushed the Dhampir. "Your sister and I made things right, Heinrich!" Howard's voice was a mix of both anger and emotion as the memory swirled in his mind. "She understood it was an accident goddamnit!!" His words carried the truth.

The words Hogwarts Headliner would ring true in @Phaedra Stavrou's ears. As editor of the paper, was there any guilt to be felt here as she must have approved the article. Was this careless journalism or important information for the student body? Regardless of which standpoint one might feel, her precious office had occurred the paid the price. How many enemies had Howard and Falentra just gathered?!

Another fiery red head would come forth as @Nico Shymane came to stand between Howard and his aggressors. Her argument was just as she used her genetic ginger hair as an example. Red hair didn't have the tendency to feed off blood, but she was right that the article basically called called for a witch hunt. Singled out the Dhampir as something to only be treated with fear and violence. Should all of those that made mistakes in life be treated as such. just because they looked like different than other didn't mean they were any more guilty. Plenty of the students here were guilty of transgressions. As Nico turned towards Howard, he too would feel the emotion tug at his eyes. The tears would stain his own eyelids as he remembered their first encounter. It was just after the article had been published. They met briefly in the corridor through a mutual friend, @Alan Vanes, but the encounter was dominated by fear and a sense of loneliness. Few others would truly understand how ostracizing such an article could be. Just how terrible and ashamed it could make you feel about yourself. "I ain't hurtin' no one." Howard's voice would tremble at first, but after clearing his throat it would regain it's strength. "But somethin' has to be done here, Nico!" He tried to shake off the emotion and redouble his efforts, but he was slowly losing control.

However, as another boy ( @Jack Burnett ) approached, his words would push Howard past his limits. He spoke of ration, something Howard severely lacked when his emotions were heightened. He spoke of image and reputation. In Howard's mind these were only considered by the petty and self absorbed. He should of course had listened to Jack more carefully. Although these things seemed foolish to the teenaged Dhampir a more mature mind might have recognized that his words carried truth. Was it not better to solve these issues through civil discussion? Or is action and demonstration necessary when standing up for the rights of those that have been wronged? Howard would always choose action and for now he was fed up with words! "What good would it do?! The Dhampir's voice was raising with each word, his anger and frustration reaching a breaking point. "We could put a face to the name of that purist shite!" The eerie aura that was housed within would spill out along with his rage. "TRUTH!! YA WANT FUCKIN' TRUTH!!" Jack's words had hit a nerve indeed! Howard would step forward, his long, clawed pinger pointing towards the staff table. "WHAT DID THEY DO FOR ME AFTER MY TURN?!...NOTHIN'!" His finger would sweep back towards his peers. "WHAT DID Y'ALL DO?!...NOTHIN'! I WAS LEFT ALONE! BY MYSELF! I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO! I WAS SCARED, GODDAMNIT!" The bloodstained tears couldn't be held at bay any longer as they leaked from his eyes and rolled down his cheek. His voice would still carry strength, but the hurt and anger were evident. What had started as a protest was now also a confession. One of guilt and pain. One of fear and abandonment. One of fury and rage. "I MADE A FUCKIN' MISTAKE! AND NOW THEY WANNA BURN ME FOR IT! FUCK THIS!! FUCK YOU!! YA WANT A FUCKIN' MONSTER. WELL HERE I AM!!" Howard's words weren't for anyone in particular as he lashed out and bared his soul to the world. Perhaps his confession would stir empathy in some and push them towards trying to understand. No doubt it would only further tarnish his image and strike fear in others. Would this all only reinforce the words of the article or maybe it just might shine a bright light on the danger and power of misinformation.

It hadn’t taken long for a crowd to form around the pair. Mumbles and whispers could be heard throughout, but Falentra was too focused on Howard. She wanted to keep an eye on his temper. There was no need to lash out on the people that watched. His energy and strength needed to be saved for T. Ruth, and she wanted to make sure of that.

The sound of a female, @Valencia Deathstout, would have been heard by the entrance, not far from where the pair were originally stood. If it wasn’t for her appearance that stood out from most, the Slytherin would have probably just blocked out her words. She looked timid after all. But it was those striking features that were somewhat similar to Howard’s in many ways, making her voice become that of a meaning. She herself wouldn’t respond, but like Howard, she would have given a nod, and probably a quick smile if the tension wasn’t so high.

@Opeila Winters was next to catch the attention of the raven-haired girl. She seemed somewhat concerned, as most would be, but with a hand that seemed to be itching for her wand made Falentra question the girls motives. Was she going to attempt to put a stop to their mischief, or put out her little piece of art, because she really hoped not. She was a fellow Slytherin, and although she didn’t know her well, a fight was something she didn’t want to start with her. Instead, she would simply give her a raised brow, which was her way of saying are you going to do something about this?

The stare would have probably continued to hold if it wasn’t for the sudden gush of wind that came from beside her. The papers that were once set alight were now nothing but ashes and smoke. The nerve to whoever did this was about to pay.
A quick swing on the heels and she would be facing the girl, @Kit Paine. Her facial features gave off the impression she was a few years younger than herself and Howard and it was a face she hadn’t seen before, that she knew. Either way, it wouldn’t have stopped her wanting to run at her and tackle her to the ground. If it wasn’t for the words that followed, chances are she would have. She was T.Ruth? She had to be joking. Falentra couldn’t help but scoff in response and give a quick eye roll at how ridiculous she sounded. Though they would have ended up focusing up on Howard straight after her dramatised expression, making sure he wasn’t going to strike at a given change. The way this supposed T. Ruth was saying it was bound to make matters worse, and of course it did.
Falentra gritted her teeth and took a firm grip on Howard’s arm, holding him back if needed.. whilst in fact it would seem it was her that probably needed it more right now. “You got some nerve calling him that! How dare ya!” She shoved herself in front of Howard, in a protective stance, not that he needed it, but if anyone was going to go for her, it was Fal. She didn’t want Howard look any worse that she already made him out to be. He would have snapped back at her, and rightly so. She could hear the pain and anger in his words. Of course, when given the chance she was going to give her a piece of her own mind. “If anyone is a monster here, it’s you. You twisted little...bitch! You- you caused this! If you’d have kept your hurtful opinions to yourself, we wouldn’t be ‘ere!!” She tried to talk with some sense, but she was itching to run at the girl.

@Jorah Moussa was next to speak up, though with what was to come... he may as well not have. A young and feisty little Ravenclaw had stood ontop of his house table, with a mouth full of, well, shite, like his words that followed. It was enough for Falentra not to bite at his opinion. And whilst he was still entitled to it, she wouldn’t bother to give him a piece of her own mind. She left Howard to deal with him. Pettiness wasn’t her thing.

She did however take a look over her shoulder to see the expression on the other students; @Kazuo Shimada, @Evelynn Decipio and @Jackson Valentine faces stood out the most. Intrigued to say the least, but she couldn’t tell who’s side they were on, or if it was any for that matter. There were a lot that were just here for the show.

@Heinrich Bezuidenhout A baby-faced boy had run out of nowhere from the crowd, no taller than probably a first year. A cute boy, that had soft features had come across quite loud and had a look of determination. The voice breaks on the other hand made the matter less serious that he was probably trying to come across. At least, that was her way of dealing with the subject. Her eyes shifted up to Howard’s, then back to the young Hufflepuff. Was he talking about.. Aurelia? She thought back momentarily to when she had a moment with the Gryffindor. The bite marks on her neck, she never said who they were from, but now it would make sense.
For a moment, her own eyes would probably come across with a similar sadness to what the Hufflepuff had shown, though she made sure to keep her head down, at least whilst she gained control over the matter. This was no time to question Howard. This moment was important for him, and she didn’t want to add questions to those that were already been thrown at him. She would talk to him on a separate occasion about the attack. “Hey, Heinrich right?” She would make her way over to him, and lower herself down to his height so her eyes met his. Her free hand would rest on his shoulder, making sure to have a firm grip on it- not enough to hurt but enough to let him know it could if needed. “I think you should keep your little mouth shut. Unless you want to disappear like your sister?” The ending... she didn’t mean it. It was cruel, but she was hurt. Aurelia had left her, the only girl she had gotten to know and had started to open up to had left without a word. It was just her way of coping with the matter. And this situation didn’t help of course.

With that being said, she gave his shoulder a quick pat then made her way back over to Howard. Part of her wanted to hold his hand through these moments, but with so many people looking at them, at him mainly, made her slightly uncomfortable in doing so.

Two more students would soon stand out from the crowd, though this pair gave off a more mature, calming approach. A sweet, pink haired girl, @Nico Shymane, that’s eyes formed red tears— a dhampir also it seemed would stand beside a boy, @Jack Burnett. Whilst a lot of his words spoke the truth, there were some that were best not to have been said. Howard would have shown the disagreement, and by showing it... it even caught Falentra off-guard. His eyes became like Nico’s. Red tears formed and rolled down his cheeks as he began to scream at the top of his lungs. She had never seen this side of him. She didn’t know what to do. Was she to throw her arms around him and tell him to calm down and that it was okay? Or would that make it worse? She thought it would. It definitely would. “H-Howard...” Her voice for the first time came out as a cry, a whisper. She didn’t care if others saw a pinch of her caring side, she was more worried about him. This wasn’t rage.. this was... she didn’t know. But she hated seeing him like this. “Hey, Howard.” She placed herself in front of him and placed her hands against his cheeks, wiping away the tears with her thumbs. “Tell me what I can do. I’ll do anythin’.” Her dark hues searched his before taking a quick glance over her shoulder to this ‘T. Ruth.’ “You want me to hurt her for ya? I’ll take the blame. Show her that is humans can be dangerous too. Let me do that for you.”

Chaos had truly erupted and Kazuo looked on with fascination. At first, he was content to watch, believing @Howard White more than capable of handling the strange assortment of students jumping to engage him. Some to protect while others accused.

The first accusation came from a girl he didn’t know, as unremarkable a face as one could possibly have, the very definition of mousy with her brown hair and dark eyes. Yet this mousy girl would stride forward, waving her wand and taunting the already - and rightfully - upset dhampir. His lips thinned when she spat that word - monster. It left a foul taste in his mouth. @Kit Paine

He hopped off the bench and began to move closer as @Eri Windstone stood up and threw herself in front of Howard and Falentra, spitting back at the mouse with just as much viciousness. He smirked a bit, wondering if the mouse and the Ravenclaw would end up in a catfight. As he drew closer, he noted that a couple of Gryffindors had also joined the crowd of watchers, @Evelynn Decipio and @Jackson Valentine , whom he knew only by vague reputation. Yet they seemed content to just watch so Kazuo’s attention did not linger on them for very long. Especially when a young Ravenclaw - @Jorah Moussa - mounted the table and began to shout the sort of nonsensical litany only a twelve-year-old could manage with a straight face. This drew a snicker from Kazuo, especially noting the blueberry smears across his face. He would truly be surprised if that boy really was T. Ruth.

Yet it was @Heinrich Bezuidenhout, voice unsteady, demeanour somewhere between angry and anxious, who would draw Kazuo’s full attention - and his scorn. Kazuo’s lips thinned to a displeased line, eyes narrowing as Heinrich threw venomous words at Howard - words that hit home hard. While @Jack Burnett and @Nico Shymane would try to talk Howard down - there always had to be someone playing peacekeeper - he would move to stand beside Howard and @Falentra Black, staring right at Heinrich.

“てめ! Teme! - meaning "You!" (derogatory context) How dare you!” Kazuo would accuse, raising his voice to ensure that he was heard. “Howard saved you! He risked his own life to rescue you. Yet you have the nerve to stand here and accuse him of being a monster because of something he has no control over? Because of a mistake he may have made? What have you done to help him or the others like him? Better question. What sins are you hiding? What mistakes have you made for us to drag before the school and humiliate you with? Howard is no less human than anyone else here and no more dangerous. Neither is she-” He pointed to Nico. “Or any other dhampir in this school. I have seen more violence come from completely human students - and for less valid reasons. That article wasn’t freedom of speech and definitely not good journalism. It was hate speech, meant to drive a wedge between humans and dhampirs, to make you all fear them. And when all the dhampirs have been targeted, removed from this school, who is next? The werewolves? The Veelas? The metamorphmagi? Who among you will be safe?”

MENTIONING: @Kit Paine @Jorah Moussa @Heinrich Bezuidenhout @Nico Shymane @Jack Burnett @Howard White @Falentra Black

Valencia rolled her eyes the girl's obvious bait, biting her lip hard to have it remain steady rather than trembling. It was more than likely that she wasn't even T. Ruth, merely just an arrogant student wanting to fuel the fire and make a name for themselves. And even though her words contained such a fierceness, her body language didn't seem to possess the same power. Shaking hands, the quiver only noticeable for a second, all proved it was for show. Still, she played along all the same.

"Bite me? Show everyone what real monsters you actually are?"

Valencia's head raised in an instant almost as if it were forced, once sparkling silver eyes now grey and dull. The statement wasn't directed at her, and more so towards the older students. If anything it was like Valencia wasn't even there, her small energy completely overshadowed by the confident and older fourth years. If she really wanted to, she could simply walk away and no one would notice. Though it wasn't a matter of making herself noticeable, nor was it to create a name for herself. It was to take a stand. A stand for her kind, a stand for all non-humans and half-breeds. And most importantly, a stand against people. like. her.

Well I could certainly scratch you. Val thought mindlessly, biting her tongue both literally and figuratively to prevent herself from saying something she may very well regret. This was what the girl wanted, to rile them up and cause one of them to 'prove' her so lovely point. It was tempting, to scare her into disbelief, but far too predictable and would only end up in more setback of proving they aren't as dangerous as they're made out to be.
It was only then that yet another student said he was T. Ruth, causing Valencia to wonder if this would become a pattern. A recreation of the sappy, stupid scenes from movies where everyone pipes up and claims to be the anonymous writer.

"How would you feel, hm? How would you feel if ya read something, classifyin' you as a monster?" And over something out of their control, at that.. "In your own damn SCHOOL of all places? No one said we couldn't be dangerous. You're fuckin' right, everyone here could be dangerous. I shouldn't have to be afraid of MYSELF because of what some idiot workin' for the school newspaper wrote." She spat bitterly, a hand pointing directly at the previously enflamed papers with anger in her eyes. "You have no idea what it's like." She added quietly, shortly before yet another voice chimed into the mix.

"You aren't the victim! You can't just come here a-and make a scene. Especially not when she's not here."

She? Who was she? Whoever the mystery girl was that the Hufflepuff (@Heinrich Bezuidenhout) was alluding to, she probably had some sort of personal history with the older Hufflepuff. What did he mean, already did? She glanced at the fourth year, his attention more focused on the entire scene before him than to notice her. He didn't seem like the type of person to.. to bite someone. Sure, the way he and his girlfriend were coming across was a bit overwhelming, but it had to be out of reason. Though then again, what kind of people were they, standing here shouting and lighting things on fire?

"Please, charm us with another voice crack." She called back bluntly, "And whoever she is? She's obviously NOT here, yeah?"

That was all she said on the matter, or at least all the chance she got before Falentra inserted herself. Despite not knowing of Heinrich's sister Aurelia, a small gasp escaped Valencia's lips as she heard the threat being made towards the younger boy. Low blow.. she wanted to mutter, in which case it'd be true. Though he deserved it, didn't he? He was talking about things he didn't know about either, in which case maybe the hurtful words from Falentra would do him good.

Then another girl who, in contrast to the other idiots jumping into the mix, Valencia had a vague idea of. The Slytherin prefect, Nico Shymane. Valencia's eyes lingered on her for a moment, taking note of how similar their features were in comparison with each other. They both shared their long strawberry coloured hair, as well as the red tears welling in both of their eyes, Valencia who had already wiped hers away, the crimson blood still leaving a smear on her cheek.
She fumbled with her hands, not sure if this was the right decision anymore. Hell, what was she doing, standing here as if she made the slightest impact? If anything she was just making them look bad, her mouth getting the best of her and Howard's temper seeming to frustrate some people. Maybe this was what T. Ruth wanted all along, for the dhampirs to read the article and cause a huge scene out of anger, rage. It was all.. planned.

The first year staggered back a bit as she watched Jack approach, eyes avoiding and refusing to look at his facial expression, knowing it contained one of amusement and taunt. Howard's loud voice boomed next to her, his rage and anger unmatched to anything she'd encountered before. Her heart's pace quickened, though her stoic expression still remained. So many voices, yet she could only focus on the male Dhampir's beside her. His confession held so many emotions; sadness, regret, and genuity above all others. She cringed slightly at the word 'monster' again, the word seeming to trigger something within her. Despite the label that came along with being dhampir, she was still part human. She wasn't a vicious beast, out for student's souls. It wasn't fair, none of this was.

Interacting (briefly) with @Howard White
Mentioning Falentra, Jorah, Nico, River, and Phaedra

Pericles had developed a habit of selecting a seat closer to the doors at dinner, forcing himself to eat a little quicker, dropping that usual dreamy distracted state. He liked to finish early on, so that he may take up his prefectly duties and wait by the door. There he would gather up a flock of eaglets to escort along the tedious trek to Ravenclaw Tower. Peri was just peeling the last delectable leaf off of an artichoke when all hell broke loose. The doors burst open, sending his hand flitting for his wand in a kneejerk reaction. Seeing the culprits, he could only watch in a state of shock, not leaping to his feet as he might have for a less familiar threat. Howard, whom he had recently met for a meaningful purpose, and a fourth-year he did not know.

The room was reacting instantaneously. Some jumped to their defense, others closed in around them, readily telling them off and picking apart their reasoning. Pericles flinched, head snapping to the side as someone climbed onto the table. Jorah, pie-faced, declared himself to be T. Ruth as if to rally Hogwarts into a mass I am Spartacus styled defiance. The prefect turned his head away, though refusing to witness the raucous silliness didn't prevent him from cringing. Much like the piece of artichoke he had accidentally inhaled when the doors crashed ajar, he struggled to swallow the situation. His own reaction to the now infamous paper was one of disbelief, disgust, unrest. He had nearly sought out this supposed "T. Ruth" himself, though decided against it. Instead he fought fire with fire, words with words, conducting an interview which Howard himself participated in*. It was a means by which the dhampires could let their voices be heard against the discontent, though Pericles had elected to omit both the Hufflepuff's and River Dewlight's names for their own safety. There was no hiding Howard now. The more he dwelled on it, the more a sense of bitter failure permeated his palate. Of course the retaliatory article had not been enough. What was originally published could only be described- at its full weight- as fear-mongering hate speech. He should have found T. Ruth. He should have "firmly suggested" an apology be published. The professors should have confronted them for writing something so dangerous. Should haves, could haves, none of them mattered now.

Did he think this to be the right way of rebelling against a wrong? No.
But was Howard's fury righteous? Merlin, yes.

Phaedra rose from the Ravenclaw table. The sight of the Headliner's secretary taking her leave spurred on a different series of observations, Keen Eyes darting from her to the duo, and he belatedly began piecing together the same concerns that had led her away. They were generously splattered with red paint, which left a telling trail. Those copies of the Headliner they collected to torch looked to be in mint condition, not something gathered from garbage around the castle. Where had they been all this time, now that dinner was nearly at its end, and what had they been doing...? His heart sank. Pericles pushed himself from the table, stepping out into the aisle and on towards the exit. Nico was a dhampiric prefect, and with any luck, River might be around to join her. They were the best prefects for this specific job. He wouldn't try to gang up on Howard and his girl. Not only was he disinclined to snuff that outrage he had defended in his own article, but there were already too many cooks in that kitchen. He couldn't bring himself to stand besides them in such a chaotic act of rebellion, either. Instead he was off to play clean-up crew.

Pericles did not stop nor slow. His pace was purposeful, and he positioned himself near the sidelines, trying to slip out without getting tangled in the growing crowd. As he came close however, he called: "I'm sorry, Howard..." and, lest anyone misconstrue the apology for fault, he added on a melancholy note, "...sorry that more wasn't done." His expression was weighted by sadness, brow creased, frown soft, though the disappointment he wore wasn't for the dhampire alone. He remembered the interview vividly. Omitted from the published article was the blatant pain his interviewees had suffered, their sorrow, Howard's heartbreak. It was all wrong. Each step seemed a little harder as the shouting grew behind him, echoing harshly down the small hall.

Unless intervened, taking his leave to check on the Office.

*

Reducio

Interview with a Dhampire

George isn't really interacting with anyone here - he's just taking notes and eating an apple, but you can call him out for looking smug if you want to target him. This is pretty skip-able if you wouldn't notice and are only here to read the action.

George always stole a midnight snack on his way out after dinner, and today was no different. A little fruit did the body good, and a crunchy apple was rumoured to have alchemical properties that made it ideal for keeping away unwanted pests, like doctors. But just as he rose to leave, the doors were flung open by an outraged, blood-soaked Hufflepuff. He screamed and held up a copy of Hogwarts Headliner, Issue #11 - not his best work, but not his worst, either - and George knew that today, it would be better to enjoy his snack at the table. With a hearty crunch, he bit into his apple, searching inside his robes with his free hands and pulling out a little notebook, bookmarked with a blue quill. Sometimes, the stories write themselves.

"Who's T. Ruth?" the little writer asked to a smaller boy beside him, opening his book on the table and jotting down the date and the location with a flourish - setting the scene before he began to dictate the script. Nearly right away, the reolutionary's girlfriend came and lit the whole pile up in flames. Well, here we go again. A tinier little bird joined the fray, chirping in unison with the two in charge. Wow! One ounce of powered gathered, and they already had their first clinger-on. George really had ought to be more violent.

He noticed the pun when he had it written - ah, T. Ruth. He remembered T. Ruth. They weren't a person, but a concept. The opposite of a lie. Sort of adjacent to an opinion, which was more what the article expressed, but with enough conviction, any opinion could be the truth. That's probably why Howard was shouting his own with such volume.

Every detail was noted in his little brown book, calligraphy impeccable even under pressure. He was just a kid at the Hufflepuff table. From the amused expression on his face, maybe he was T. Ruth, although a girl had just claimed the name for herself.

Little @Nico Shymane standing up made his eyes flash with recognition - there she was, the girl herself that he'd met in the dark corridors of the castle so long ago. He remembered it fondly - a little run in with trouble, but harmless. She was trying to defuse the situation. Even though she was shaking on the surface, the girl was ice cold. Doing the right thing. Being brave. Fearless. George marked down a little star in his notebook next to this - a reminder to find her later. She was a hero in the making... and he sort of owed her an apology along with an interview. "Nico," he murmured. Shymane, he jotted in hastily after. That's what the talky-boy, Green Jack, said.

George chewed his apple, pen at the ready, watching Falentra and Howard as they shouted back their retorts. An impartial observer, George kept his comments to himself. Just watching intently - and being the only one left eating anything, as appetites from Gryffindor to Slytherin were ruined by the protest.