The Enemy of My Enemy PV Lestrange Closed

Tired. This morning was exhausting. The afternoon was even worse. Rubbing the corner of her right eye with her finger, she tried to get rid of the sleepy crusts. Her make-up actually looked great that day. The red eyeshadow that made her ice blue eyes pop, really paid off. That fact made her feel as if she achieved atleast one thing that day.

Her strawberry red hair bounced with every step she took, slightly flowing in the breeze of the cold corridors. As she walked, her eyes glanced at the windows. The weather was awful today. Cold. Rainy. Wet. Thankfully she didn't have to go outside on the Grounds that day. Another lucky strike for the emotional redhead.

Dressed in green slytherin robes, badge reflecting a silver light every so often, displayed on her chest. The dhampir couldn't help but feel abit selfconcious in that moment. It didn't happen alot, but it did more and more these last few days. As if something very unsetteling was going to happen real soon.
Shaking her head, trying to get rid of the cloudy thoughts, Nico passed the Study room that usually was very quiet. Because this room was used for ... well... studying. Maybe some small conversations as students tried to help each other with some class material. But that's about it.

'What in the world...' The prefect muttered as some commotion and gasps slowed her stride, before completely stopping near the door. Some students ran out the door or speedwalked to safety. This was serious. With an annoyed sigh, the young Slytherin entered the crime scene. Two boys were having at it on the floor. Some small tables and cushions had fallen on the floor, scattered in the room. Whatever was going on in here didn't look like it was going to end soon.

Was that... Thomas Lestrange? As a Prefect you'd kind of expect them to know most Slytherin students. It was a gift and a curse but it was a handy for situations like these. The boy's hand was up in the air, ready to land another strike after what must've been multiple punched.

'Mr. Lestrange. That's quite enough..' She didn't yell but her light clear voice cut through the noises of struggle. For the moment she wouldn't pull him off the other student, hoping her calling-out was enough. Arms crossed on her stomach, her cold eyes stared intently at the boys. Waiting for an explanation. 'You two made quite a mess in here. And even made the room to yourselves...'

Interacting with @Rafael D'Spacito and @Thomas Lestrange

────────────────── ♛ ──────────────────

Interacting With: @Thomas Lestrange @Nico Shymane
Mentioning: N/A
Hex Color: #800000

─────────────────── • ───────────────────

“Had enough?”

The next few moments had occurred in a blur of fiery impulse and stupidity, the raw anger and need for blood overcoming the young man’s senses and grasping ahold of his every thought, its influence forcing the young Captain into one dangerous, monstrous trance. Perhaps that was his weakness, then – for it was in the moment that he’d lunged from his spot on the bench, that his rational thought had sorely deserted his countenance. There would be little he could do to stop his own trajectory towards the other, nor any action he could take to halt the sickening flip in his own equilibrium, or God forbid put a stopper the confusion that bled from his chest like blood from a gunshot wound as he was shoved into the cold, hard floor. What was happening, again? Why had he failed so miserably? It was too hard to think, adrenaline coursing through his veins like a drug and pushing him to the limits of his own sanity. His face would do little to betray his confusion, his eyes still manic and mouth drawn in a tight line as he gazed angrily up into the smug eyes of his opponent. He must be so proud of himself, the child couldn’t help but think in enmity as his eyes skimmed the other’s handsome face. That face drove Rafael mad, down to his very core.

Perhaps that’s why he’d made the decision he had. That, or his Gryffindor pride was breaking through his livelihood, threatening to do anything to protect that over-inflated ego stuck deep within the recesses of his chest. It wasn’t exactly a secret that Rafael liked to fight, after all. In fact, his pride was the very opposition that pushed him to embarrass himself, or pass out from exhaustion, or damage, even. He didn’t tap out – he passed out. And if that’s what it took, then so be it. Having made his decision, the Captain would waste no further time in offering the other student a mad grin, a blaringly-obvious foreshadowing of the decision that they were most likely both going to regret heavily. “Depends,” he laughed harshly, “Is that all you got?” His attempt to draw the attention of the other boy would surely work – for before the other would have time to register the words of the Captain, Rafael had already jumped into action, his head quickly shoving forward as to smash against his adversary’s in a stinging headbutt. FUCK, the pain shrouded his senses in a moment’s notice, his stomach stirring about in a sickening manner as he felt about for Thomas’s shoulders. But there was no time for second thoughts at this point. Having finally pushed Thomas off himself, he’d use his remaining time to retreat a few steps from the Slytherin as to catch his bearings and prepare for his own defensive maneuvers.

“You two made quite a mess in here. And even made the room to yourselves...”

Who was that? It was difficult to discern who was talking over the pounding of blood in the Gryffindor’s own ears and the massaging of his bloody nose – so he wouldn’t try to figure out who they were, only waving a hand of acknowledgement in their direction as he groped towards the wall for stability. Did he want to listen to someone questioning his life choices? Certainly not. Especially from someone he… he thought he didn’t know? He wouldn’t give his predicament an inkling of thought before speaking, his tongue rogue as it mouthed his very opinions. “You know what, give me a break,” he muttered tersely, shutting his eyes as to stop the stinging on his face as he gently pinched his nose. Bad idea. Bad idea. A sigh later would find his hands rubbing his forehead, as if marvelling that he’d actually made an action so brash and stupid as headbutting a fellow student. Even that did little to alleviate his pain. “Don’t you have places to be…” opening his eyes, he would glance at the form of his acquaintance, chocolate brown pupils skimming over the badge fitted on her chest, “…Prefect?” Well, shit, no wonder she cared so much. It would seem as if the young men had been ‘caught in the act’. A wry laugh would dismiss any negative thought that may have been circulating throughout his thoughts at the indication of being found, however – he’d had his fun. Letting his hands fall in front of him, he would offer the girl his wrists, raising his eyebrow wryly as to goad her into a sense of disrespect. “Come to arrest me, officer? On with it, then.” He would gesture loosely at his nose with a thumb, his smile only growing. “I’ve got a nurse to see, so if we could hurry this up, that would be great.”

Permission to successfully assault Thomas - granted.