8 Aug 2020, 23:27
Scars And Souvenirs
Continuation of this thread.
Interacting with: @Thomas Lestrange
Mentioning: Sky Evans | Flash Holmwood | NPC Nurse
Date: 14th January
Time: Evening
They came to a halt outside the castle. Arianas sneakers lightly brushed the tips of the grass as she landed as softly as she could, while still making sure she wasn’t dawdling; for they didn’t have much time. Green orbs flashed through the now darkened atmosphere and she squinted around, checking to discern whether anyone lingered nearby.
Addressing Thomas, she turned, although she did not fully maintain eye contact with him, in fact she avoided his gaze completely, silently motioning for him to follow her as she passed through the main doors and into the dim lit halls of the school. Truth be told, there weren't many things Ariana was scared of, except for jump scares, however rejection was one other thing she didn't quite turn a blind eye to, and if Thomas began to yell at her or snap harshly, she was afraid her temper would leap into action, spitting out a lot of hurtful words. After all, she barely knew the boy; she didn’t know what to expect.
Along the way she paused, her footsteps light and almost silent, “Wait.” Holding up a hand in order to stop, she narrowed her eyes yet again, attentive to any notion or sign of movement. An almost inaudible sigh of relief escaped her lips, “Never mind, I thought I heard something.” She continued walking, slowing her pace in consideration of her injured companion.
She felt slightly bad, for she should have helped Thomas, should’ve stood beside him, especially when he was about to collapse any moment. However, she had somewhat selfishly taken foot a few paces in front, leading the way. Though in truth, Ariana had never thought she would have found herself in such a situation as this. Helping out a Slytherin of all houses? She didn't hate them, no. Although she certainly had not acquired any good experience with any of them. Was she being prejudiced? Highly bromidic? It was most unlike Ariana to be this way, but she couldn’t help wondering, was Thomas as stereotypically slytherin as she expected? She almost expected him to pick a fight or shoot a snarky comment towards her as stupid Evans usually did; and although she usually wasn't one to unjustly anticipate stereotypical actions from a person, it seemed that this time round she was doing just so. Her brothers had always told her that the snake house wasn't one to exactly be friendly with, although Ariana now supposed this had been a biased, jokable concept that had emerged from old fairy-tales and bigoted storybooks. Why, she herself had ancestors that in fact belonged to the slytherin house once. Slytherins weren’t at all as old stories might promote them to be.
Her hesitant reactions however, might have emerged from the fact that her brother's biased concept had been minorly proved the same day Ariana had stepped onto the Hogwarts express. Her guard, following that unpleasant interaction, had shot up dramatically. For although she was still as friendly as usual upon meeting, [most of the time] her senses were now kept more alert for any sudden red flags. She had become negatively acquainted with Sky Evans, and she did hate the wretched girl so, for she always had to stick her nose into everything, always had to shoot malicious comments in Arianas direction that only provoked the gryffindor into fueling unfortunate disputes. Post their first train journey, they had silently been pronounced mortal enemies- for Ariana didn’t know anyone she hated more than that girl. While she continued to work on her unfortunate temper, [much unlike her cousin Rafael] Sky did not proceed to aid her in this resolution, furthermore turning up at the least expected times of the day to snarkily point out ruptures in Arianas life; the gryffindor did not like this in the least.
Now she thought about it though, many slytherins had come to her aid before, many had been solely kind, well-natured and polite. Flash had even rescued her from drowning in the lake when she had fallen and gotten trapped quite unfortunately. Ariana supposed that the subjective rumours and tellings didn’t hold full truth in the fact that they were biased, rapt with unjust opinions.
So was she being rudely prejudiced? Thomas didn’t seem such a person to react in tyrannical ways. In fact Ariana had been mildly surprised that he hadn’t attempted to hack her to pieces after she had nearly killed him. Well, having a beautiful face did pay off at times.
What really was the point in being dramatic? Ariana wasn’t the type of girl to brood relentlessly on minor hatches. In fact she rarely stopped to think at all, impulse was an unfortunate dabble in her personality that she could let go of. She wasn't the shy type of girl either, quite the opposite really, though it wasn't always a positive trait to carry, for she attracted attention to herself within a millisecond. On the other hand, rowdy humorous nature was something she prized herself for, for it benefited others in the fact that she was quite fun to be around, you couldnt last long around Ariana and still be moping about unfortunate happenings.
Her inner voice had decided to take a turn, evidently feeling that she wasn’t acting to her usual standard. Stop being a baby and quit being awkward, this is not you. You may be tired and feel guilty, but nothing will get better if you don't let go of your stubborn pride.
She felt rather insulted by her inner voice; was she being stubborn? It didn't matter, for the gryffindor had already swivelled around, halting her steps as she swallowed and started towards Thomas. “Damn, I should have helped you out, sorry, i'm not quite used to supporting half-dying people, the nurse probably knows better.” Words were not comforting in such nature, although she hardly meant to sound this way. Her words had left her lips sounding lighthearted and humorous, and unless Thomas was one to turn situations like these into memorable humours experiences, she highly doubted that the boy would crack a smile at her feeble attempt in lightening the mood.
Taking a hair tie from around her wrist, the brunette fastened her dark locks into a swift ponytail before offering her shoulder for him to rest his arm around. “Do you mind if…?” but she took his arm anyway, for she had done enough stalling. Her pathetic jokes were probably not the best way to go, although unfortunately, Ariana could never stay serious for too long in such situations. Another unfortunate trait she was to bear. But then again, she had her amazing spectacular looks to make up for it.
She definitely wasn't the same height as Thomas, but maybe a head shorter than him, if not less. The gryffindor had always been quite petite for her age and so his arm around her shoulder probably only rendered itself useful in the fact that she could keep an eye on him as she continued to walk. Still, it was better than nothing. “Now, I am tired too, so any major leaning and I might go crashing to the floor. I'm sure the nurse doesn't want any more injured children, so let's go swiftly before you diminish and we will be good.” She shot him a smile through the dim lit lighting, returning more to her usual self as she rounded the corner, now gratefully in close proximity to the hospital wing.
Arriving at the door, Ariana walked into the comfortably familiar room. “Right…” She stated confidently, letting go of Thomas as she spoke, “Uh...I'll go get the nurse. Wait here, don't die before I come back.” Her expression bore a tender smile as well as a hidden smirk, and she wandered off in search of aid. How exactly she was going to explain this situation however, she did not know.
Ariana Walker
‘It’s that heart of gold, & stardust soul that make you beautiful.’
Part-Veela || Hex code: #800000
17 Aug 2020, 04:39
Scars And Souvenirs
Fortunately the path to the castle’s walls was brief, the boy’s counterpart was an adept flier. Swift and smooth, only occasionally swaying behind her was the ever-weary Lestrange. A droopy set of blue eyes only kept afloat by the girl’s long brown hair that intermittently whipped near his visage. Along with the crisp evening air, these factors counteracted the boy’s dwindling consciousness for the time. His left hand remained close to her shoulder, gripping tightly to maintain balance when needed.
A smooth entrance to the large wooden door that was surrounded by a stone archway. Another fortunate development, it was not past curfew. Therefore the steel reinforcements and enchantments have not self-initiated, allowing the students to enter the castle walls without a wait. Ariana took the look, beckoning Thomas to follow. There was urgency in each step, but also a slight neglect to account for the stumblin’ bumblin’ Thomas Lestrange that struggled to keep pace.
There would come a moment where the Lion halted, raising a palm to order the boy to stop. What prompted this stop eluded Thomas, unsure of what the girl may have seen in his daze. It allowed him a moment to maintain his breath, hand instinctively finding the source of his troubles along the side of his thigh. He pressed the fabric in place to suppress the wound, the sharp sting bringing a discomforted hiss through gritted teeth. It did not feel good, but the blood loss had subsided, now at a lower rate. But each step would threaten the gash to open further, increasing the rate he lost blood, and eventually dropped to the cold stone floor unconscious.
Even in this dire state, Thomas did not lose his sense of humor. In fact, his humor was often turned to as a source of comfort when things were going unfavorably. So when Ariana ordered the halt, the boy would listen and stop, swaying steadily behind her. “Sure...not like I’m bleeding to death or anything.” The words escaped his lips loosely, an empty quality like a person doped up on sleeping pills or nitrous oxide.
Ariana offered an apology in addition to tongue in cheek comment. Noted, she was not a medical professional. “What about whole-dying…” Stupid, what does that even… “Dying peo--dead. Actually dy---” Thomas clearly didn’t know what he was trying to say anymore. “It’s fine.” The boy’s stuttering and unintelligible babble may have been the red flag for Ariana. She reached for his right arm.
Thomas initially resisted, flexing to pull his arm away. As his mind connected her intentions to distribute a part of his weight and ease the pressure from each step, he loosened his arm to come around her shoulder. The girl was much shorter, forcing him to adapt a crouch that may have done more harm than good. With a strained expression, the pair carried on until they found the entrance to the hospital wing.
Thomas did not hesitate to find a vacated bed, taking a seated position before shifting his legs delicately atop the bedding, gently pressing himself back until his head found the pillow. Ariana announced she would go find the nurse. “Don’t die, got it.” Thomas confirmed his intention to stay alive, before slightly tilting his frame onto his side without the gash, and letting himself slowly drift away into a slumber.
‘Wake up, boy.” Thomas slightly twitched before opening his eyes, the nurse stood over him with a dissatisfied expression, her hand planted on her hip. “More tom foolery.” With a scoff she circled the perimeter of his bed in an angry prance. Yes it was not Thomas’ first time in the hospital wing, nor his first encounter with this nurse. The boy quickly recalled the night he chipped his tooth before being knocked unconscious by Erin Ryan.
“A decent gash, sealed now.” The nurse motioned to the gash now cleaned with a bandage. “Drink this.” She handed him a large flask. “It will hurt to walk for a few days. Drink it.” Thomas eyed the flask now in his grasp.. “I-I will. Just a moment.” The nurse glared with widened eyes, standing there as if a delivery driver waiting for a tip. “Ungrateful prick!”. With that, the nurse turned away and left the room.
Thomas planted his palms on the bed, lifting his frame into a seated position, leaning his back against the pillows against the headboard. His eyes carefully scanned the room until he found Ariana[If she was there]. He would simply beckon her to join him. No, the girl was not his favorite person as she is the reason he is in the wing. But he would recognize the truth for what it was. He tempted her to chase him, and he only had himself to blame for the results. Her decision to assist him after the injury, and transport his frame to the wing would land her firmly in his good graces...for now. “Not my brightest hour.” The boy paused, icy blue eyes found the wrinkled sheets below, resting there while he offered a rare sentiment. “Thanks.” He spoke softly, as if uttering these words hurled a spear through his pride.
If Ariana was not there, Thomas would stare endlessly into the ceiling until she returned.
A smooth entrance to the large wooden door that was surrounded by a stone archway. Another fortunate development, it was not past curfew. Therefore the steel reinforcements and enchantments have not self-initiated, allowing the students to enter the castle walls without a wait. Ariana took the look, beckoning Thomas to follow. There was urgency in each step, but also a slight neglect to account for the stumblin’ bumblin’ Thomas Lestrange that struggled to keep pace.
There would come a moment where the Lion halted, raising a palm to order the boy to stop. What prompted this stop eluded Thomas, unsure of what the girl may have seen in his daze. It allowed him a moment to maintain his breath, hand instinctively finding the source of his troubles along the side of his thigh. He pressed the fabric in place to suppress the wound, the sharp sting bringing a discomforted hiss through gritted teeth. It did not feel good, but the blood loss had subsided, now at a lower rate. But each step would threaten the gash to open further, increasing the rate he lost blood, and eventually dropped to the cold stone floor unconscious.
Even in this dire state, Thomas did not lose his sense of humor. In fact, his humor was often turned to as a source of comfort when things were going unfavorably. So when Ariana ordered the halt, the boy would listen and stop, swaying steadily behind her. “Sure...not like I’m bleeding to death or anything.” The words escaped his lips loosely, an empty quality like a person doped up on sleeping pills or nitrous oxide.
Ariana offered an apology in addition to tongue in cheek comment. Noted, she was not a medical professional. “What about whole-dying…” Stupid, what does that even… “Dying peo--dead. Actually dy---” Thomas clearly didn’t know what he was trying to say anymore. “It’s fine.” The boy’s stuttering and unintelligible babble may have been the red flag for Ariana. She reached for his right arm.
“Do you mind if…?”
Thomas initially resisted, flexing to pull his arm away. As his mind connected her intentions to distribute a part of his weight and ease the pressure from each step, he loosened his arm to come around her shoulder. The girl was much shorter, forcing him to adapt a crouch that may have done more harm than good. With a strained expression, the pair carried on until they found the entrance to the hospital wing.
Thomas did not hesitate to find a vacated bed, taking a seated position before shifting his legs delicately atop the bedding, gently pressing himself back until his head found the pillow. Ariana announced she would go find the nurse. “Don’t die, got it.” Thomas confirmed his intention to stay alive, before slightly tilting his frame onto his side without the gash, and letting himself slowly drift away into a slumber.
Time Passage - 1 hour
‘Wake up, boy.” Thomas slightly twitched before opening his eyes, the nurse stood over him with a dissatisfied expression, her hand planted on her hip. “More tom foolery.” With a scoff she circled the perimeter of his bed in an angry prance. Yes it was not Thomas’ first time in the hospital wing, nor his first encounter with this nurse. The boy quickly recalled the night he chipped his tooth before being knocked unconscious by Erin Ryan.
“A decent gash, sealed now.” The nurse motioned to the gash now cleaned with a bandage. “Drink this.” She handed him a large flask. “It will hurt to walk for a few days. Drink it.” Thomas eyed the flask now in his grasp.. “I-I will. Just a moment.” The nurse glared with widened eyes, standing there as if a delivery driver waiting for a tip. “Ungrateful prick!”. With that, the nurse turned away and left the room.
Thomas planted his palms on the bed, lifting his frame into a seated position, leaning his back against the pillows against the headboard. His eyes carefully scanned the room until he found Ariana[If she was there]. He would simply beckon her to join him. No, the girl was not his favorite person as she is the reason he is in the wing. But he would recognize the truth for what it was. He tempted her to chase him, and he only had himself to blame for the results. Her decision to assist him after the injury, and transport his frame to the wing would land her firmly in his good graces...for now. “Not my brightest hour.” The boy paused, icy blue eyes found the wrinkled sheets below, resting there while he offered a rare sentiment. “Thanks.” He spoke softly, as if uttering these words hurled a spear through his pride.
If Ariana was not there, Thomas would stare endlessly into the ceiling until she returned.
Note: Nurse is a faceless NPC
@Ariana Walker
We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful what we pretend to be
Stamina: 8 | Evasion: 7 | Strength: 7 | Wisdom: 8 | ArcPower: 3 | Accuracy: 7
Ability - Evasive Maneuvers 2x
23 Aug 2020, 12:54
Scars And Souvenirs
@Thomas Lestrange
The nurse returned with her, and for a few moments Ariana watched her tend to Thomas’ injuries, her eyes droopy and her head pounding with the force of a rather violent headache. Tearing her gaze from the pair, she took a few slow steps back, hues finding a chair near to the bed [quite probably meant for visitors]. The girl would take a seat, and upon doing so, her muscles relaxed, finally giving up on her as she sank into the seat. She had not yet before noticed how much strain had been upon them before she had taken rest, for her body now panged with a rhythmical throb, syncing with her unfortunate headache. Leaning her head back, she found sight with the ceiling, and upon doing so, gazed momentarily at it, her eyes threatening to close and her mind slightly cloudy as her thoughts drifted in and out of focus. Eyelids fluttered shut, then open, then shut; and by now she could vaguely feel the nurse tending to her own injuries. However, before she could take the chance to lift her head and thank her, or even look back on her newly replenished health, she had fallen into a deep slumber, head lolling to the side, cheeks still vaguely flushed from the outside air and her clothes still ruffled and dirtied from their unfortunate mishap.
She would not know how long it would be before she awoke; eyes fluttering open, she stirred. Her sight was blurred for a moment, blank patches obscuring her vision before they cleared. Raising herself from her stiffened, rather uncomfortable posture, she glanced around. Thomas had chosen the much more comfortable option of the bed, yet Ariana had not thought to take up one of her own. Unsticking herself from the chair, she sat up in a better position, one that didnt threaten to snap her spine in half. She felt weakened and slow, her throat dry and sore. Again her mind blanked for a moment, where was she?
“Not my brightest hour.”
She jumped a little in surprise, the shock shooting a rather unpleasant dose of adrenaline up her spine. In fact, it took awhile for her to realize that it was Thomas who had spoken these words. Her brain took a moment to whir back into action and her thoughts were slowed, she gazed at him for a moment, expression blank and tired. For a second she considered walking across to one of the other hospital beds, curling up and falling asleep, for she felt rather drowsy still, not to mention irritable and tetchy. On the other hand, she couldn’t bear the thought of standing up right now, her body ached rather aggressively and she fought the desire to completely collapse back in her seat and slip down into the spine twisting position she had slept in. Instead, she raised her head and turned to face her company. “You damn right it isn't mine either.” The words tumbled out in an impatient grumble and she fell silent for a second before hearing soft words spoken into the atmosphere. “Thanks.” She didn't reply to this, although she was almost fully awake now, her senses sharply reminiscing the memories from yesterday evening . Yes, she was definitely not a morning person.
Ignoring the fact that her hair slightly resembled that of a person who had been struck by a rather aggressive series of lighting, she reached to his bedside table and poured herself a goblet of water. The silence wouldn't last long. It never really did around Ariana anyway. Sitting back in her chair, she spoke in a rather matter-of-fact tone, “You really need practice on flying a broom properly.” She hadn’t immediately intended to pick a fight or start any sort of rivalry but she couldn't pretend she wasn't slightly irritated with Thomas. After all, it had been his idea to start the game of tag it the semi darkness, and although he had not known of Ariana's tendency to be reckless and brash with most things [including words] she wasn't going to place all the blame on herself.
Swiveling round to meet Thomas’ icy blue hues she crossed her arms over her chest, her pretty visage set in a frown. “I would teach you, if it didn't seem as though you were such a lost case.” Pausing for a moment she readjusted her position, taking a sip of her water and straightening out her skirt with a lazy brush of her hand. Fixing her gaze in his direction she spoke again, “How are you feeling?”
Now despite her rather hostile tone, she did truthfully mean these words. In fact, were it not for the subtle frown on her face and the bland choice of vocabulary, then she might have come across as genuinely concerned. However, she wouldn’t blame him if he decided to take this the wrong way, for she had probably sounded quite sarcastic. Ariana had made enough slytherin enemies, she didn't need another.
Ariana Walker
‘It’s that heart of gold, & stardust soul that make you beautiful.’
Part-Veela || Hex code: #800000
28 Aug 2020, 05:21
Scars And Souvenirs
Lighting changes things. Take a grandiose ballroom for example, when properly lighted it appears lively and exciting. Enticing dance related celebrations. You take away the lights, add a cobweb or two and the same room would appear vacant, perhaps a habitat for a ghostly presence. For Thomas to look upon a one Ariana in a lit room changes his perspective. Not to say the moon did not do her beauty justice.
It was the type of beauty that demanded your breath and purloined the words. A familiar feeling the boy has experienced with the few part-veelas he has seen. Though if the one he knew best was any indication, the looks didn’t translate to the personality. Yes, the purple-haired veela of house Slytherin was a surefire example. The Gryffindor, however, was on a much better track...until she started speaking again.
Thomas could not be sure how much time had passed since he arrived. His hands were chilled, and his head still spun from considerable loss of blood. When Ariana looked at him the boy would appear blank, as if all rational thought had dissipated, replaced with emptiness. The mental gears at a standstill. Though this expression did not deviate from the usual, Thomas typically masked his emotions in stoicism. The boy did not expect anything from others, or the world. His first year at Hogwarts swiftly taught him the let down trend would be consistent til his death. Whatever it is he desired, he would have to take for himself.
Ariana’s presence with Thomas was a notion she cared for his well-being, but her attitude was lacking in vigor. The boy was not sure how long she waited for him to resurface, but he was sure he did not ask her to stay. When the girl poured herself a glass of water, Thomas pressed his palms on the mattress to lift his body up, assuming a seated posture against the headboard. “You really need practice on flying a broom properly.” With a double take, a staggered smile formed along the boy’s lips. The audacity she had to pin this accident on his ability to fly. “And you should learn the difference between a tag and a tackle.” In Ariana’s defense, he challenged the girl to catch him, he did not specify how.
The brunette folded her arms in a pout, continuing to throw shade at his skills with a broom. Had Thomas’ eyes rolled back any further they’d be looking at his brain. “You’d do that for me?” He brought a hand to his chest with widened eyes in embellishment, unmistakable sarcasm seeping into his tune. “Save your lessons for those with a death wish.” Ironically many would consider Thomas to have a death wish, but she didn’t know that.
“You know, so much better…” Thomas started, flipping his legs over the bedside and wearily regaining his feet. He approached Ariana, grimacing with every other step from the lingering pain in his side. Stopping at the table, he grasped the handle of the water pitcher she used. “until you started talking.” Thomas waddled back to his bedside with the pitcher, taking a seat with it in his lap. He tilted his head to the side, slowly bringing it to his lips for a steady series of gulps. His blue eyes, however, remained squarely on Ariana as he drank from the side. The lack of focus causing some water to run down the side of his cheeks, dripping from his chin. After he brought the pitcher down, he casually placed it on the bedside table. “And you? How are you feeling?” She wanted to play? Yeah, we can play.
@Ariana Walker
It was the type of beauty that demanded your breath and purloined the words. A familiar feeling the boy has experienced with the few part-veelas he has seen. Though if the one he knew best was any indication, the looks didn’t translate to the personality. Yes, the purple-haired veela of house Slytherin was a surefire example. The Gryffindor, however, was on a much better track...until she started speaking again.
Thomas could not be sure how much time had passed since he arrived. His hands were chilled, and his head still spun from considerable loss of blood. When Ariana looked at him the boy would appear blank, as if all rational thought had dissipated, replaced with emptiness. The mental gears at a standstill. Though this expression did not deviate from the usual, Thomas typically masked his emotions in stoicism. The boy did not expect anything from others, or the world. His first year at Hogwarts swiftly taught him the let down trend would be consistent til his death. Whatever it is he desired, he would have to take for himself.
Ariana’s presence with Thomas was a notion she cared for his well-being, but her attitude was lacking in vigor. The boy was not sure how long she waited for him to resurface, but he was sure he did not ask her to stay. When the girl poured herself a glass of water, Thomas pressed his palms on the mattress to lift his body up, assuming a seated posture against the headboard. “You really need practice on flying a broom properly.” With a double take, a staggered smile formed along the boy’s lips. The audacity she had to pin this accident on his ability to fly. “And you should learn the difference between a tag and a tackle.” In Ariana’s defense, he challenged the girl to catch him, he did not specify how.
“I would teach you, if it didn't seem as though you were such a lost case.”
The brunette folded her arms in a pout, continuing to throw shade at his skills with a broom. Had Thomas’ eyes rolled back any further they’d be looking at his brain. “You’d do that for me?” He brought a hand to his chest with widened eyes in embellishment, unmistakable sarcasm seeping into his tune. “Save your lessons for those with a death wish.” Ironically many would consider Thomas to have a death wish, but she didn’t know that.
“How are you feeling?”
“You know, so much better…” Thomas started, flipping his legs over the bedside and wearily regaining his feet. He approached Ariana, grimacing with every other step from the lingering pain in his side. Stopping at the table, he grasped the handle of the water pitcher she used. “until you started talking.” Thomas waddled back to his bedside with the pitcher, taking a seat with it in his lap. He tilted his head to the side, slowly bringing it to his lips for a steady series of gulps. His blue eyes, however, remained squarely on Ariana as he drank from the side. The lack of focus causing some water to run down the side of his cheeks, dripping from his chin. After he brought the pitcher down, he casually placed it on the bedside table. “And you? How are you feeling?” She wanted to play? Yeah, we can play.
@Ariana Walker
We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful what we pretend to be
Stamina: 8 | Evasion: 7 | Strength: 7 | Wisdom: 8 | ArcPower: 3 | Accuracy: 7
Ability - Evasive Maneuvers 2x