A Fistful of Truth PV. Thomas Lestrange Finished

The courtyard lie at the forefront of the castle, a well traveled place with most coming and going, only a fair few remaining in the many archways that surround a rectangular exterior. The setting sun fought through the clouds to give light to a series of notes scribbled down in a boy's journal that remained tightly in his grasp.

This year's trend: distractions, and exfiltration. The source of his inclusion into many different roles, but the boy's flight did not eliminate the many repercussions that were labeled for him. Each step away was plagued with past conflicts, and deals with sadistic forces. Though Thomas found himself in a position of rare influence, aboard the school's paper, and a representative of his house that came with a small silver badge. He has attained a position of high notoriety, but would this spare the disorder, or only delay it?

For an average teenage boy, a Friday night's agenda would probably consist of social engagements, chasing the girls around, skipping along to Hogsmeade for a sweet. Thomas found peace in what others may consider a pedestrian usage of free time. Perched atop the stony exterior of the courtyard, eyes bouncing between his journal and the sun settling on the horizon.

A distant shout broke his concentration, Thomas turned his frame to see an elder classmate's lively approach. A girl he was mildly acquainted with, having seen her in passing through his three years at the castle. A few notable similarities between them, first and foremost their notorious surnames. Even if they shared no relation, it did not offer any escape from the captious assumptions from their peers.

Another similarity, a staple trait of house Slytherin, was the way Thomas has seen Miss Black carry herself. A cold demeanor to ward off innocent approaches, sparing the general idiocy that encompasses this castle. Though this did not apply to the way Falentra approached him now, Thomas left with a befuddled stare in her direction, blue eyes flickering across his lids in search of what initiated her hostile approach.

The confrontational notes commenced the boy's transition into a defensive posture. First, he stored his journal into the confines of his pocket. Next, he felt his robes with the dominant left hand, ensuring his wand was attainable if needed. Pushing his hands into the corners of a stone ledge, Thomas dropped from the structure with a squelch from his boots in the dampened grass below. Thomas tilted his frame, shoulder squared with her body.

His fighting posture did not deter her furious approach, planting herself well within his bubble, though not containing the sinister glare of one that would use Tyranni's tactic. Thomas stood his ground, and Falentra stated her piece. Ah, another similarity. With an outstretched hand, the girl gripped the fabric of his collar, a tempered tug brought a few involuntary steps towards her. Of course, at this moment, the aforementioned Tyranni tactic was ever present in his mind.

With a scowl, the boy swiftly resisted, attempting to escape the firm grasp on his collar. If she maintained a grip, he would intervene with his hand, tightly squeezing her wrist in attempt to force her release.[You decide if this is successful.] "Howard sending girls to fight his battles now, yes? The boy's scowl began its progressive transformation into his staple smirk, corners of his lips slightly curling up.

If Miss Black intended to intimidate Thomas Lestrange, she first should have better understood her subject. A boy well versed in close contact with a dhampirs claws, or a crone's dagger nails. An impassioned rant would do little to inspire fear. "Who are you to get a say in what's between Howard and I?" Thomas tilted his head in curiosity, eager to understand what her connection was with Howard.

@Falentra Black

@Thomas Lestrange

The boys reactions was almost a casual one with a tad bit of irritation present, but it wasn't anything out the ordinary. Was this an average event that took place for the male? She questioned herself while a hand remained in a tight grip with his shirt. If it wasn’t for his actions that followed, she probably would have gotten lost in her thoughts, like usual. The sudden impact that came from the other made her eyes shift from his and over to the hand that he had wrapped around her wrist. It was definitely a weakness of hers that she didn’t like to show. Whilst being slightly taller than him and coming across aggressive with a foul mouth like that, her body was dainty; practical all skin and bones. It’d have been enough to give off a sigh of weakness. “Get-.. get off!” She hissed and pulled herself away from him. While she was the one who had original came to him and invaded his personal space, she didn’t like the fact that he had fought back. Technically, anyone would but there weren't many that would have given it back to her so quickly. He had caught her off-guard for sure with that one.

He followed not long after with a quick-witted response, maybe even a hint of cockiness or sarcasm was thrown in there too? She couldn’t tell, but it was enough to make her brows furrow and her eyes follow up with a cold glare. Girls? What girls? She overthought, or maybe it was just a hint of jealousy that made a quick appearance. An emotion she hadn’t dealt or come across before. She gave a quick eye roll as her way of a cover-up to her emotions being shown before focusing her attention back on him and not herself. She was here to find out more about him after all, but it had already felt like she had seen enough. The boy before her didn’t seem to mind confrontation, or even a fight. A sign that deep down Falentra couldn't help but admire and get a slight buzz off. At the same time, she could see that actions as such could be another reason why him and Howard could have clashed. Either way, that wasn't the reason she was here. She was here to find out if he was the cause of the event that had taken place in the Caretakers office.

She was to respond, not making the boy before her wait any longer. Her stance was still stiff ready to throw her fists his way if he decided to make another cocky remark at her but before she could even reply, he would have thrown another question his way. Normally, it'd be her doing the questioning. This boy... he really wanted tip her over the edge didn't he.

Who are you to get a say in what's between Howard and I?

That was it. She had enough. As soon as the last word left his month, she didn't give him a chance to edge another word in. ''Who am I?'' The way he said that like she was a nobody. To him, yes she was nobody, but in this moment she was going to make it as clear as she possibly could for him. ''I am Howards girlfriend. So I have every right to say what I fuckin' want to you when you upset him like that.'' Her right hand rested down by her side, the tip of her fingers tapped impatiently against her leg while the left edged towards her wand. No. No wands. She wanted this to be hands on- no magic. ''So you gonna tell me what went on in there, cause he won't say nothin'.'' Whilst waiting for a response, her dominant hand that itched towards her wand would form a tight fist that twitched occasional as though she was holding back the urges to swing it his way. She wasn't going to let him go until she got what she wanted from him.

The element of surprise and a lack of preparation led to a sharp change of demeanor from Black, aggressor turned defendant as she swiftly pulled her wrist from the boy's grasp. Thomas stood there unwavering, eyes locked with his elder Slytherin to express a nonverbal message, a defiant lack of fear. The threat of pain may as well not be a threat at all. Lestrange was molded by pain, from his early days in a rough sport on ice, to a pawn for a crones, and chiefly an inconsistent opposition to an aggressive dhampir and veela.

Yes, pain was not the road of intimidation for the boy. Perhaps if one delved into his past, his bloodline, his father, they would find heaps of wounds to place a dagger and twist. Falentra Black lacked information and understanding of her subject, giving Thomas the advantage for now. Especially with the revelation of her relationship with Howard, the boy had a wealth of tools to ravage her emotional state.

"Sorry, which one?" With this insinuation, the word sorry proved to be a spiteful jab at the girl's understanding of who she was to Howard. Thomas identified a point of attack, to imply Howard's collection of girlfriends could not be counted on even one hand. Of course Thomas was not truly in the know, relationships was never a topic for the boys. Though the boy would play it this it like it was. If Howard's girlfriend stormed Thomas on his behalf, he would ensure that very storm returned to Howard with a similar request-- information.

"Singular girlfriend, as in one and only?" A flicker of amusement breeched the boy's visage, his lips parted as if softly blowing a cloud of doubt towards Miss Black. This cheeky act provided a combination of befuddlement and hilarity upon the boy's expressions. Thomas quirked a brow, crossing his arms in his dramatized performance. "No no, you don't look like that Hufflepuff I saw him with all summer. The same one he knocked a boy out for to earn our picnic in the Caretaker's office." With a soft smirk, Thomas tilted his head to the side, muttering to himself. "Should've known ol' Howie to be a player."[Falentra would still hear this remark]

"It does make sense..." Thomas continued, eyes flickering back to the noirette. "Wouldn't want you to know about this other girl he protected to earn that detention... Towers." Thomas scanned the girl's reaction carefully, searching for a point of impact to rattle her further. "Ah, no... of course you know about Towers." Thomas nodded to himself with a reassuring smile. "You don't look that foolish."

Giving the girl a few moments to digest the proposed concept Howard was two-timing, he chose this moment to offer the information she sought. "What happened where...the detention?" The boy asked her to clarify before proceeding.

@Falentra Black

@Thomas Lestrange

What left the fellow Slytherins mouth next stopped Falentra completely in everything she was doing. Her eyes were the only thing that moved from his eyes to his mouth, to his eyes, to his mouth. Only seconds later her breathing had quicken, a sign that Thomas was sure to pick up on through her chest movement becoming more quick and aggressive, if that was even possible to notice by the eye.

He was joking. He had to be joking. A part of her wanted to just laugh it off and give him an eye roll, but with what had gone on at the protest with Howard forgetting to mention important things to her, it did bring doubt into the situation. If these expressions weren’t enough for him to see how quickly that had gotten to her, she didn’t know what would—not that she intended to show them so freely but recently hiding emotions seemed to be a big issue for her.

“N-Nah— He w-wou—” Her attempt to in covering up her worry and doubt was weak and pathetic. She herself knew that so it was pointless to begin lying now and making up some petty excuses out of thin air. Sudden changes in the girl would be noticeable. Her defence dropped dramatically and her expressions had softened to a form of sadness, for each word he threw at her made her heart ache. A hand rested over it as her eyes remained fixated on his, trying to find the smallest hint of a lie in him. There had to be something there to give it all away but there were nothing other than a smug look upon his face. How quick the table had turned. She was now feeling powerless and on the edge of crying. It was these damn emotions. They needed to go. They were starting to make her look too weak.

Not only that but she needed to find a way to shut Thomas up. Anymore of this and she would burst into tears of anger and pain. There was no way in hell she was going to let him affect her to that extent. “Shut up!!” Shouting out, she would try her best to interrupt his triggering questions. “SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!!!” With each word she shouted, her voice would become louder and eventually turn into a scream.

What was to come next would even surprise herself later down the line but at this point, she honestly didn’t care what she looked like, how she acted or what she said. She was at breaking point. It was obvious that Howard was her weakness in every way.

Without giving him another second to savour the pain in her reaction, she would run with what distance there were between them and jump up on him. Though her weight was not much, the force and weight between the pair was bound to send them flying backwards.(if you don’t want it to succeed, by all means change it!) With not a moment to spare, her hands would swing down at him, repeatedly punching him and sometimes the ground. Her accuracy was slightly off by this point with her adrenaline kicking in, but it didn’t stop her from continuing to throw her now bloodied fists his way. “You lying piece of shit!! Your.. lying!!!”With each punch she threw, whether they were successful or not, and with each curse she threw at him the more her eyes teared up.

This was a sight she didn’t want him to see so rather than keeping herself sat upon him she eventually came to a stop of he hadn’t stopped her already. Her body would’ve flopped off in exhaustion and crawled off to the side, her body still to the ground. It gave her enough time to give her eyes a quick wipe and her hands a quick shake to try and get rid of the access blood that had begun to drip up her arms.
She hadn’t gathered herself together yet, but she had managed to take a few glances his way to try and make what he could of his expressions yet again. It were such to be more irritated by now, but she was still looking forward a sign, a moment where he’d come out with: ‘it’s a joke’ but there were nothing as of yet. She wanted to ask him questions, but that would have looked desperate and added more fuel to his enjoyment to all this. So rather than giving in, she lowered her gaze to her knuckles and examined them as her mind tried its best to backtrack to a certain Serena Towers. To thinking if she and Howard really could have had a thing going on.

As anticipated, Thomas could sense the impending eruption each spoken word would fuel. He offered his best attempt to disguise his amusement as she hung onto each sentence, enveloping dread wrapping around her frame in a firm embrace, only delaying the inevitable rage to come. His piercing blue eyes narrowed with each thrown dagger into what she thought she had with Howard White.

Thomas was too fixed on dealing blows to prepare for an exchange. Initially it seemed an appropriate reaction that would leave her walking away in self-pity. First the gentle quiver of a lip, tears welling in her umber eyes in an urgent search for falsities. A verbal denial that would not impede the boy's continuation of seeding doubts into her fling with Howard. Though a transformation began to occur that Thomas neglected, preoccupied with glimmers of remorse for his choices.

Thomas was not yet some souless rogue with absent empathy for others. Parts within him still remained with the betterment of his peers in mind. Though his quarrels with Howard White have now transferred to mutual parties, and Thomas was in no position to back down after the many scars the dhampir has left him with. In most cases, Thomas deserved it, but he truly had no knowledge of a boggart's presence in his detention with Howard. Which ultimately led to another swipe of the claws at Thomas. As he saw it, it was his turn to get even. And if Falentra Black would suffer as a byproduct of his revenge, so be it.

However, it seems Thomas would be joining the pair in suffrage, as he often does. It's something he should have foreseen, not that the nimbly petite frame of his house elder inspired any notable fear. But like a volcano, the precursors were well within sight. The rumbles that left her with intermittent trembles, the sadness stain of her features reshaped to a furious intensity. Then came a series of intensive shouts, shut up, shut up, shut up, each shout louder than the last. For the moment, Thomas' slithering tongue remained behind his teeth in silence to allow her to process his insinuations.

He remained across her unwavering, failing to prepare for the physical attack to come. Falentra launched from her position in a bee line towards Thomas, leaping off her feet and tackling him to the ground. Her anger fueled her strength in this moment, combined with an unsuspecting Thomas. With a sharp grunt the boy fell to the grass below, a pair of punches catching his cheek and lip before he raised his arm in defense.

Thomas instinctually employed the physical maneuvers his hockey coach taught him back in England. Raising his hands, open palmed and attempting to catch Falentra's incoming fists in his direction. He did no more than impede the path of her fists, simultaneously weaving his head to allow a few of her punches to contact the grass below. The boy was able to evade some, but he did not match her intensity, still receiving a healthy does of damage.

Fatigue overcame Falentra, leaving her to flop aside him in labored breathing. Thomas huffed, tasting his own blood, bringing a sleeve of his robe to wipe a trailing blood that dripped from his nostril. He rotated his jaw softly as he regained his feet. Sliding his fingers through his brown mop of hair, pushing it to the side to avoid the longest strings of his bangs to reach the blood.

His pain was but a symptom of victory, he had won the moment she chose to latch onto false ideals. Sure, Howard could be two-timing, but Thomas Lestrange had no proof of this. Her furious reaction must have been a reflection of her insecurity. As he stood over her, intensely watching her movements in preparation for a follow up attack, he would straighten his robes and stare down at her eyes, waiting for her to look back his way. "You're a lot like him, you know." A reference to she and Howard's collective physical approach to deal with those they are against. "I can see why he gets bored with you."

With an icy glare, he would turn away from the girl and head towards the castle's entrance doors. His left hand delicately found the outside of his robe pocket where his wand remained, ready to use if needed.

@Thomas Lestrange

Every hit that succeeded brought pleasure to Falentra. It was as if it satisfied the rage that had exploded, a not so rewarding treat to her hunger within which she later would sure to regret, or not. Most probably not. It was just unfortunate that her stamina had dropped so rapidly, but a few confirmed hits mad up for his quick-witted remarks.

It had taken awhile to gain control over her breathing again, and in the meantime her attention was preoccupied with both Thomas and her bloodied knuckles. She was inspecting the few small cuts she had obtained during her miniature fit of rage within the time the fellow Slytherin had swiftly got to hit feet. It had instantly brought her attention back to him, though she remained sat on the ground. She watched as he took her in, judging no doubt or of some concern on whether she was to go for round two. That wasn't going to be the case now. Too tired.

It seemed he was about to take his leave. There was no aggressiveness from his part, no threat to report her, though he may of just been keeping that to himself to avoid more conflict, but she expected...something. Of course, she had spoke thought too soon as he indeed followed up with something she did not expect to hear. His words hit her to the core, to the heart that most saw as untouchable. It ached for a moment, which to her felt like forever. For however long she had been sat there dwelling on his words, the boy had already taken his leave, leaving her in a mess which she created and needed to start learning from. There was no time for self-pity. These mistakes and fits of rage were becoming a pain in the ass, and so was having her feelings on what she thought was on the end of her sleeve for anyone to grab. This wasn't the end. Falentra was sure to meet Thomas Lestrange again and next time she wasn't going to let him escape.

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