Alternative Advice PV Falentra Black Finished

PV. @Nicholas McCowan

Dinner had been skipped tonight. It was a well known fact that Falentra hated the company of those she didn't know, even more so when it came to eating alongside them. Listening to those loud eaters, or those that spoke with there mouth full─ alright, maybe that one she could relate to in a sense. But who does it when talking to someone face to face? Nobody. Nobody should be able to smell such a thing, or wear it for that matter. It was disgusting and the thought alone would make her blood boil if she let it linger on her mind any longer than it had.

The peaceful surroundings of what would normally be accompanied with birds chirping was now replaced with the odd owl hoot and group of crickets. The whistling wind and the rustling trees only added to the tranquility. It were nights like this that never got old and one of the few reasons she spent most of her time here, or somewhere within the grounds. A deep inhale came from the Slytherin while she admired the view before her. The enjoyment of her own company however had come to a halt once a voice which spoke of her surname came from behind. A name she hated to be called purely for the obvious reasons. She had her fun using it to her advantage in her earlier years, a reason to be cruel and cold to others. But now she was tired of those wandering thoughts others had of her when hearing her name for the first time.

''Yes? What do you want?'' A reply was almost instant. Barely even a second before he had introduced himself she had given him the cold shoulder. There was no cold glare given to the boy. In fact, she hadn't even turned to him yet to show her irritated state, but her tone alone would fix that. It was almost always monotone, which made it hard to tell if she was happy, tired or just pissed off. Nobody just came to her to make a friendly conversation unless they were stupid or strong enough to handle her harshness.

However, the boy would continue. And not with some small talk. It was enough for her attention to be drawn away from the view before her and over her shoulder. Her eyes fixated on the boys features. His wild hair and his lips that tripped over the words that followed. The strong Irish accent caused a slight squinting of the eyes as she attempted to carefully listen to what he was asking. Her body would then swiftly turn in the concrete bench in which she sat. Her body lent forward and her elbows would rest on her knees all while her eyes kept themselves studying the boys appearance, trying her best to make what she could of him before responding.
With his word choice, he was very open and somewhat confident. Not so much in his speech, but in her and her advice. Did he not fear her? Or at the very least feel somewhat wary. Most people tread lightly, as though they were on eggshells around her... but not him. Yes, he wasn't gleaming with faith, but his approach and overall needs had finally brought a small smirk to her lips.

A small huff left her lips and a raise of the brows would follow. It was a lot to take in and process in such a sort time. Of course, she could be completely truthfully and start with 'i am how i am because of my past', but that would mean lowering her guard. And even such a thing her closest of friends didn't know. It would have been of no use anyway. No more than a cry for sympathy in her eyes. Instead, she would nod towards the free space beside her, giving him the opportunity to sit. It wasn't going to be something one could talk about in the space of a few minutes after all.

''I can't help you become like me, if that's what you are askin'.'' By now she had sat up straight and turned her head to face him, if he chose to sit beside her. ''What I do and what I say is by my doin' and nobody else. I don't give two shits if I hurt them in the process. You just have to be selfish sometimes and do what is best for yourself, cause once you leave here, not everyone will be nice..you know? I know when to shut off and to not feel what is wrong from right. It will cloud your judgment if you don't.'' A pause would follow and a small trail of thought would linger momentarily. In a sense, she was lowering her guard to a boy she had just met. It could show weakness depending on how he was taking it all in but he had come to her in the first place with a guard lowered. He did however remind her of her younger self in some ways. His roughed appearance made it out as though money wasn't in his favour, which if was the case, something she understood.

Unlike her earlier years, she had grown to care for people. There was very few, but enough to help her understand that being completely ruthless wasn't always needed in every situation and shutting off completely wasn't as great as it seemed. This meant her choice of words given to the Gryffindor weren't all true and needed to be rectified before things could get worse. ''I'm not sayin' don't care for people... you know..'' She attempted to correct herself, though the nerves slowly started to creep their way in. ''Just be careful who you let in. And take into account that if they get hurt...so do you. So keep your circle very small. Yeah?'' Was he still with her? Was she even making sense or was she rambling and going completely off topic by this point? She wasn't good at this. Helping others with words of wisdom. It wasn't her strength. Fighting however, was.

Maybe he wasn't after some sweet, mother-like talk. Maybe he wanted to hear something more sinister. It was a topic she was to dabble into and if he responded with interest, then she would proceed to maybe leading him down a darker path in which she was slowly spiraling into herself. ''But if you are after people knowin' your name, havin' them think twice about approachin' you.... like me, then... you have to break some rules, get peoples attention through what you are capable of. Start off by staying in the shadows and observe people.. then when you think the timing is right, you strike— cause a scene. But be confident in what you believe in, or what to achieve.” Silence would follow suddenly. She was talking to much, and she felt stupid in becoming too invested in the boys needs. To sound well-spoken and intellectual wasn’t here forte, but the passion in her voice was clear as day and in her eye proved enough. She only hoped he understood what she was trying to say. It wasn’t something people asked her out the blue after all.

ABILITIES: FEARLESS

STAMINA 𝟩 . WISDOM 𝟣𝟣 . EVASION 𝟫 ARCPOWER 𝟣𝟣. STRENGTH 𝟧 . ACCURACY 𝟣𝟤

Truthfully, Nicholas did not know what to expect from Falentra Black. Whilst he held out hope that the older girl would be at least partially welcoming to his questioning, he also could not deny his worry that she would send him away with his tail between his legs. Fortunately, it seemed she had opted to take the former approach. Her actions showed that she was not entirely pleased with being accosted by a first year with questions as to how better hold himself. But while her tone had been monotone and she had let loose a huff in response to his veritable tirade, she did not send him away. Much to the contrary, she instead nodded to the empty place beside her, an invitation to sit if he'd ever seen one.

And so he did, and immediately he found himself feeling somewhat awkward. Standing had given him a general height advantage, made him feel as if he was presenting a case to her to be heard. By sitting he had traded whatever small amount of power that dynamic he had given him for the welcome of the black-haired girl he had sought out. A good trade, to be sure, but one that still made his subconscious mind feel ever so awkward.

So it was that when she turned to him and began to respond that he felt much smaller than he had but a moment ago. This was almost entirely exacerbated by her opening statement, she could not help make him like her. It was only then that Nicholas realised exactly what he had indeed been asking of her, she was right, it slowly dawned on him, he had asked how to better act like her in every way except directly. He grimaced slightly at that, a subconscious reaction to having been caught.

Still, the rest of the advice that followed made sense, in a sort of way that the boy was almost ashamed to admit. Acting selfishly seemed so counter to traditional wisdom, but he knew that he'd at least considered it at certain points through the year, and if it had worked for Black to the point that her name itself caused others to walk with pause, then perhaps it made sense. After all, if everyone else acted in their own best interests, it only made sense to act in one's own as well.

He nodded as she spoke, his grimace fading and his eyes narrowing somewhat, a tell-tale sign that he was taking in what she said, considering it, running it over in his mind. And as she continued to speak, he continued to listen, her words making more and more sense. She wasn’t advocating for a complete selfishness, after all, she had said to care for that small circle that you let in. Be guarded with those you don’t trust and protect those you do, it was hardly the kind of dark advice that one may expect from the girl given her reputation. Instead, it seemed almost positive in its nature, but without the pretence that so many of the other students seemed to harness when speaking. Honest, that was the word for it.

What she said next, however, was certainly darker than what had preceded it. A method through which to make people know his name, and to treat it with the same level of fear and trepidation that hers was. Was that what he was after? Nicholas looked away from her, the silence that followed after she finished speaking drawing out for a while longer, only the sounds of the crickets seemed to continue. The boy stared into the sky, his mind jostling with the thoughts. Her advice was sound, he knew that for certain, after all, it had worked for her. What he did not entirely know was whether it would apply to him, or if he even wanted it to. He wanted that glory, he wanted people to know his name, part of him knew that. But did he want it to be treated the same way that the name of Falentra Black was? He had never thought so. But he had sought her out, perhaps he did want that.

His eyes returned to her, and finally he spoke, “Thank you.” He paused, as if seeking out the words, “I think I understand. You have to take care of yourself, right? No one else will. Look out for yourself and yours.”

He fiddled with his hands as he spoke, with more hesitation this time, “And if I want to be known, if I want respect, then I have to take it.”

He paused, as if somewhat taken aback by his own words. He’d never really thought he was capable of the actions, after all, he didn’t particularly think himself anything other than ordinary. But that was probably where he was going wrong. No one was born extraordinary, you had to make a scene to be noticed, you had to have the bravery to step outside of the rules. Maybe the school rules weren’t any more important than those in quidditch or in duelling, designed to be broken and twisted.

“I get it,” He spoke, convincing himself as he did so, “if people think you’re soft then they’ll treat you like you are. If you make a plan and make a scene, then no one will mess with you… and you can reap the rewards.”

It felt odd to say aloud, but not so odd as it had been to think about. Verbalising the thought process made it make more sense, made it garner a certain set of clarity. Perhaps it was the missing ingredient after all, he’d been so keen to make do and avoid the dangers of his more reckless peers he’d opened himself up to being trod upon. Diligence alone couldn’t help him achieve the greatness he wanted.

“Thanks,” he said again, softly, genuinely, a contrast but a complimenting one to the passion with which she spoke.

“You’re, uh, not as fearsome as your reputation makes you seem,” He smiled as he said so, the nerves fading somewhat, before he quickly added, “Not to say you’re not making people think twice about approaching you. Just that I appreciate the advice, you know? Confidence in myself, achieving what I want to achieve. It makes sense, more sense than most of what I’ve heard at this school. Besides, it’s clearly working for you, you’ve gotten what you wanted right?”

Stats: STA: 7 | EVA: 6 | STR: 8 | WIS: 6 | ARC: 4 | ACC: 4
Abilities: Foulplay
Mentioning @Falentra Black

@Nicholas McCowan

The Slytherins eyes watched the younger boy like a hawk without making it too obvious. While her eyes would scan their surroundings every now and then to make sure nobody was passing by, she would try her best to get what she could out of him by simply observing. Asking too many questions in her opinion drew too much attention to ones self. If she was really to sit here about giving him the not so best advice, she needed to make sure he was serious about it, and wasn't a complete wimp. Approaching her was probably the first and hardest step out the way, but next would come patience. If he was to gain her trust and even as much as her taking him under her wing was something that needed to be earned. How exactly? She wasn't too sure yet but was to make a note on that later on.

Her gaze flickered back down to his features, observing those expressions that spoke a thousand words before he even began to speak aloud. Though when he eventually came round to doing so, Falentra would remain silent and just listen, nodding slightly at some of the things he was saying. He got the gist of it pretty easy. A good listener maybe? Or a quick learner? Both, she hoped.

Her hues once again lowered even further to watch his hands fiddled and intertwined with one another. It made her squint her eyes, a note she was to bring up later on. But for now, she continued to listen, judging all of him for better or worse. It may of being cruel, but honesty was the best way to be. There was no room for improvement or better yourself if you tell someone only what they want to hear.

It was all going so well. At least, up until what he came out with next. It was sure to bring a scowl to her face, a bitter expression even. Was she being too soft on him? Or was he calling her weak? There was no time to debate and guess. She had to go in hard now, to let him know she was far from it. As much as she was itching to reply to him, she did let him finish what he had to say, none of which she enjoyed. ''Let me stop you right there.'' She stated in a blunt tone. ''Just because I haven't given you the cold shoulder or started flicking my wand 'ere and there, doesn't mean I'm enjoying your company.'' Her bitter stare became a cold one, and her tone of voice was to match. ''What if I was just bein' nice to lure you in? Mimic your innocence to have you think we was getting along. So you'd let your guard down.'' In a swift movement, she'd of swung one of her legs over the cobblestone bench so now either leg was resting on the ground at each side, her body facing him. ''What are you going to do then ey? Now that your guard is down?'' It was a question, but also his first lesson in the making.

Maybe it was too much too soon, but if he was going to throw a comment like that at her, as unintentionally as it was to affect her, she was to at least try and put him in his place.
A small huff would leave her lips and her shoulders would drop, trying her best to calm down the anger that was itching to escape. ''Just because someone isn't threatenin' you and are being nice to your face doesn't mean they are weighin' you up. And... and stop fiddlin' with your fingers like that. How you gonna go round causing trouble when you doin' shit like that? Like an old woman who's lost without her knitting needles.'' She added, her hands edging out towards his, almost going to slap them. She stopped herself in time and replaced the action with a quick flick of her finger. The Slytherin may of taken a harsher approach on the boy now, but if he had thought of her in such a way already, maybe she was doing something wrong. Depending on how he was to reply with how she just reacted was going to determine whether or not to continue on the answer his final question; whether she had got what she had wanted with how she acted.

ABILITIES: FEARLESS . PERFECTIONIST PERFECTIONIST Ⅱ . HEALING SAGE NON VERBAL MAGIC

∶

STAMINA 𝟩 . WISDOM 𝟣𝟣 . EVASION 𝟫 ARCPOWER 𝟣𝟣. STRENGTH 𝟧 . ACCURACY 𝟣𝟤

It had all been going so well, the older girl had hardly been as fierce as her reputation had made her out to be. Instead, she'd provided the advice relatively freely and without harshness. The moment he vocalised such a thought, however, the reality of that situation shifted. Her tone turned icy and her eyes soon matched, what had intended to be a compliment instead became an opening for attack. Whereas her earlier advice had been delivered bluntly, Black now spoke as if disassembling the younger Gryffindor. For a moment he felt as if she was mocking him, explaining how she had lured him in just to turn on him as she was doing now. The change in both her tone and position intimidated him, he felt as if a small child again, being brutally dressed down by one of his upperclassmen. Her last question read as a challenge, to a battle more social than anything. And she had bested him with ease.

Humiliation was the more telling emotion upon his face than fear, whatever brief lapse of the latter that had flashed past his eyes was lost. He was indignant, and for Nicholas, indignation meant rage. Ambitious though he was, he lacked the cunning to understand when to know when he was bested, for only he had the right to denigrate himself. Frustration and the desire to lash out threatened to bubble to the surface, but as she continued he found those tumultuous feelings cooling ever so slightly, the metaphorical pot was easing away from the boil. It was a lesson, one she had seen fit to deliver harshly, but a lesson nonetheless. Perhaps he may have calmed down entirely and allowed himself to internalise what she was trying to impart, but her following actions made any return to the prior status-quo impossible. Her remarks regarding his hands were well warranted, but to compare him to an old woman sent sparks of rage to his core. The movement to slap them still, regardless of how she had halted at the last minute and replaced it with a more well-meaning flick, turned him to stone. Yet it was not fear that froze him, but anger. Icy rage had taken hold of his body.

For a moment he sat fully still, eyes flaring beneath a furrowed brow, his expression betraying his internal fire entirely. She had certainly succeeded in seeing his fiddling halt. But whereas earlier he had been a bundle of nervous energy, intimidated by her presence, he now felt belittled and threatened. And when placed on the defensive he was prone to lashing out, vulnerability was saved for when he was in a more comfortable position.

"Right," He spoke the single syllable slowly, trying to beat back the desire to storm out in a rage.

He clenched his jaw for a moment, lest he erupt into some kind of explosive display. As much as he wanted to, as cathartic as it may be, that would do absolutely no good. So where he had been fidgeting earlier, he instead found himself entirely still, following her most recent advice with regard to his fingers, albeit not consciously.

He sighed, and part of the tension left his body, he had to try and calm down. This was not an attack, he couldn't let it be treated as such.

"I'll be wary," His voice was the most measured it had been all evening, "But if you were lulling me into a false sense of security… you wouldn't have told me any of that. Why advise me how to look out for myself if you were going to take advantage?"

The words were just as much for him as they were for her, a confirmation that he had seen through the veneer of cruelty. His eyes continued to storm with rage, but it was diluted now, a spark of sunshine rising behind the storm clouds that had pooled in the brown orbs. He didn’t speak further, after all, it was hardly his place. He had sought her advice and she was imparting it. Moreover, he had learned from that advice and her reaction when he’d failed to take it. There was no need to risk saying something stupid and incurring her wrath further, lowering his guard again would be foolish.

Stats: STA: 7 | EVA: 6 | STR: 8 | WIS: 6 | ARC: 4 | ACC: 4
Abilities: Foulplay
Mentioning @Falentra Black

@Nicholas McCowan

There we go. His expressions were now not so much as noticeable to the eye. If you were to look hard and deep enough, sure, there were probably some cracks that could be seen, but it was progress. He was indeed seemingly a quick leaner. Lovely.
However, there wasn’t any words to follow to make up for something of that blank motionless expression he now wore. Was he thinking?— is that how she came across when she over thought things in her head? The questions she pondered on knowing of the boy now seemed to cause her to mimic himself, though she would find her brow raising in curiosity at the thought.

Right? That’s all he had to say after those rash choice of words she gave him? A second brow would raise now to match the other, giving off a shocked expression. “Right…” She added, just to clarify.
The same hand she used to flick him with would now raise to her head where her bone-like fingers would slide through her hair, brushing back the stubborn strands into place. Her expression too had fallen back into its blank state.

Surprisingly, not long after he chirped up once more and this time it had been with more than one word. He could keep the conversation going unlike her, and was quick-witted it seemed. He gave her what for, in the politest way doing so. She couldn’t fault him for it, he was right after all. Though it didn’t mean she had to agree, and give him a pat on the shoulder. But it also didn’t mean that she had to be a dick with him for the smallest of things. Instead, a small grunt left her mouth and a shift in gaze was given.

“Right then, smart arse. To answer your question.. from before?” She asked, trying her best to move on from his words of truth, ones that made her look silly to fall back on her own words. She swallowed hard and brought the hand that was playing through her hair down to her sleeve. It tugged both awkwardly and nervously. It wasn’t the boy that made her feel this way, but the question itself. How to reply to it. She could lie and say how everything on her end was fantastic, that she got everything she wanted because of how she acted, but she didn’t. In fact, right now she had all of the opposite. She was lonely. A feeling she once loved more than anything now felt like a fear.
Besides, the boy was smart, and if she fell back on her words again with him, it would make her look a fool no doubt. So the truth it was.
“Thought I did, yeah. But I’m no good at controlling what comes out of this.” She pointed to her mouth. “And this.. shit.” The hand then loosely pointed to her heart chest. “And now I’m back to square one. Just me and myself it seems…-” Another long pause would follow, though her mouth would still partly be open as though more was to follow yet be held back at the same time.

“Load of shit anyway. Ignore me. Not here to give you a sob story or have some violins playin in the background.” A serious matter that she had now switched into a joke was her way of dealing with it, and a great way to change the subject, or at least the mood of it.
“You enjoying this shithole then?” She was referring to Hogwarts of course. She wasn’t entirely bothered if he was or not at this point, ot was just a conversation changer, a poor one at that, but this was Fal you was talking to, and holding a conversation with her was painful at times.

A wolfish smirk all his own split the boy’s face in twain. For the first time in the conversation, he’d actually succeeded in striking back. Naturally, her reaction was measured, a grunt and a small shift in gaze. Had he not been explicitly looking to see if he could manage to strike a nerve, no matter how minor that strike may have been, he definitely would have missed it. But, for probably the first time in his life, Nicholas had turned his tunnel vision toward another person’s emotional reactions. His own unconscious response was, of course, clearly telegraphed. He simply lacked the capacity to split his attention in too many ways, he’d prevented his hands from fidgeting, yes, but the rest of his mental aptitude had been tapped into Black’s emotionality and not his own. Still, he failed to register her deliberate pivot in conversation, more than happy to hear the answer to his earlier question, the same one she had dodged so deftly.

Such was anticipation that he entirely failed, once more, to catch her nervous tell. Yes, he saw the awkward movement of her hands, all but signposting her lack of comfort, but he did not associate it with what it could mean. Were he more skilled, or skilled in any sense, at comprehending social cues, he may have called her on the hypocrisy of the situation, given that she had pulled him up for his own fidgeting. Alas, Nicholas McCowan’s ability to engage in the subtleties of debate and wordcraft was hardly well-honed, nor were they founded on a basis of natural talent. Instead, he found himself taking the older girl at her word.

Or rather, words. His success with his retort had rendered him rather cocky, and once more he found his defences lowering. So it was that he took her answer at face value, missing any subtext that may have been present, even if no such subtext existed at all. She’d pissed someone off then, said something without thinking, something emotional, and it had caused her some sort of hurt. Nicholas’s smile vanished slowly, both out of a sense of empathy for the older girl, and out of his own gradual realisation. Perhaps her methods weren’t as foolproof as he had believed. The doubt flickered across his face for a moment, before he shunted it back down and into his chest, leaving his visage neutral once more. There was no point in second-guessing, she may have made a mistake, but it was clear that whatever had gotten her to the point where she could even begin to make those mistakes had worked far better than whatever it was he had been doing in the year thus far.

Besides, her following comment was good-natured, so he doubted that it could have been anything too dire. He smirked slightly at the joke and offered a small shrug in response, both to the off-handed remark and to her follow up question.

“S’not bad,” He slurred, his posture relaxing somewhat from the rigidity it had taken not a few moments prior.

Shithole wasn’t the word he’d personally use, he didn’t loathe the school, hell, he didn’t really think about it all that much. It hadn’t become the all-consuming monolith that so many alumni and upperclassmen made it out to be, it had just been.

"Not a whole lot to really say is there," He offered as further explanation, "School at the end of the day, isn’t it?"

He shrugged again, his posture relaxing even further, his earlier anger forgotten almost as quickly as it had come. Mercurial moods, coming and going in much the same way that the tide crashed against the shore then returned to sea, such was the disposition of the young lion.

"Hardly the beacon of life-changing experiences they try to sell you on." With his own piece offered, he turned the question back on the older girl, "What about you? Liking this ‘shithole’?"

The same word that she had used felt foreign on his tongue, but he supposed that sensation would decline with time.

Tags: @Falentra Black
Action: Talking, y'know

@Nicholas McCowan

There was an awkward silence between the pair for a brief moment, though it seemed more like a lifetime. If words could be spoken so easily through expressions or actions, there was sure a conversation to be told but it seemed the pair was dealing with this encounter in their own awkward way. If it wasn't for Falentras new interest on the boy, she'd of probably left long ago.

His response to her question brought a impish grin to her face, in that he responded with her own words. ''Mhm. It's alright I guess.'' Yet another short reply was given and even she knew she couldn't leave it as that. It was somewhat agonizing put her social skills to the test. They did however need to be improved, as did her kindness. With a small sigh, she prepared herself for a longer, and hopefully more in depth response.

''There always seems to be some trouble lurkin' round though, don't you think? Apart from that, I think the foods alright.'' A pause followed as her eyes wandered from the boy and up to the night sky. She wasn't sure if she was making good progress or if she was going completely off topic. To say she was good at reading people, she sure wasn't great at talking to find out more about them. It was however progress, slow progress but still.. a somewhat improvement. It may have been helping oil up her rusty social skills, but her actions were far from anything but kind. From having the urges to smack the a boy she didn't know, to flicking him...it wasn't great. She didn't know how to improve on that, unless─ ah yes... sweets. They always made matters better didn't they?

''Eat this.'' It was blunt to say the least, and came across somewhat demanding. The offer she was making was a kind gesture despite it probably come across the opposite way. He had not long ago pointed out that she wasn't all what others had made out, so maybe he was to not think this gesture as being weird and instead a kind one. Wait- no! She couldn't be too kind, it would make her look weak. Her hand kept twitching as the the clogs in her brain started to overwork. This was stupid, she was stupid. It was a bar of chocolate and she was thinking of how it made her look?

Deciding not to have the baffled boy wait any longer, a chocolate bar, no bigger than her hand was pulled from her bag. No rummaging was needed to find the sweet, an impression her bag was filled with a bunch of them. ''Eat.'' The demanding tone was her attempt at making sure she wasn't coming across too nice, but nonetheless her hand waved towards him, urging him to take the chocolate from her.

If he foolishly refused, she would respond with an irritated grunt upon the refusal of a rare, kind action and toss it at him anyway. If he was to accept, she would offer a small smile and pull another from her bag, tear it open to start eating one herself.

Whatever the outcome, the Slytherin would eat in silence from a few minutes, still thinking over the words and actions she had just given. It was truly frustrating. The lad seemed decent and down to earth, not afraid to speak his mind. Annoying as it was from someone to backchat her or stand their ground, it often showed their true colours, or in Falentras case whether they were a soft arse or not. She could only go off what she knew, and that was that Nicholas was an alright lad, so her guard could be lowered, a tad. ''I'm not right good at talkin'... if you didn't know already.'' She straight away thought she sounded stupid for saying such a thing, so she made sure to quickly add a more Falentra approach to it. ''So I don't care if you piss off.''

The shrug was a non-answer, yet he gave it anyway. She wasn’t wrong, there definitely seemed to be trouble constantly lurking, be it the terrorist attack on the train, the peculiar circumstances surrounding the assault on Vladimir Athanatos, or whatever other debacle had befallen the students of Hogwarts. However, most of that still seemed entirely remote to Nicholas, as if he were an observer to the world’s most chaotic play. He agreed with the statement in principle, but for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to actively engage in it. The thought was bitter. It was part of why he had sought her out, part of why he had needed her advice. He was so goddamn tired of being that observer, of being thrust aside while others took the limelight. Sure, he wasn’t entirely chomping at the bit to be thrust into life-threatening peril, but he was sick of being ignored.

The atmosphere of the conversation had not changed much, in spite of his failure to give a proper response, which was to say that it was about as awkward as could be expected. Walls had been erected on both sides, and whilst they had lowered somewhat, it seemed that there was only so much that could be done when one was so used to operating with those social barriers in place. Still, the chocolate was a welcome gift, and an entirely surprising one.

Nicholas raised his eyebrows in surprise, “Oh, uh, thanks.”

Her tone was more pointed, demanding really, than Nicholas would have expected from a girl who had just gifted him chocolate. But he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. There wasn’t a moment of hesitation before he unwrapped the sweet and took a bite out of it, taking half the morsel into his mouth. He ate quickly, the sort of speed that could only be associated with children and sweets. The idea of saving the flavours didn’t even threaten to enter his mind. They ate in relative silence, a shared moment that may have been described as cutesy. Although, were one to inform Nicholas of such a fact, he probably would have simmered with anger until it boiled over. It was unlike that Falentra Black would handle the descriptor any better.

Such was her way with words. Nicholas was almost taken aback by the vulnerability in her prior statement, an admission of weakness. Of course, she followed it up with a kick, venom laced with sugar. Still, the boy wasn’t too daft to miss the signs that he hadn’t entirely screwed up his attempt at a first impression. He also desperately didn’t want to start screwing it up.

He shoved the remaining half of the chocolate bar into his mouth and swallowed it following a quick chew. Then he was up to his feet, his neck and shoulders rolling as he did so.

The conversation had been enlightening, and the company had been interesting. The older girl wasn’t what he had expected when he’d opted to track her down that evening, but she’d proven to be all the better for it. For the first time in his short schooling career, he hadn’t felt coddled, he hadn’t felt talked down to. There had been bite to her words, and anger to spare, be it coiled or otherwise, misdirected perhaps, but she had never dipped into a pool of malice.

“Might just piss off then,” He answered, boyish charm entering his voice that betrayed just how young he really was, the somewhat scandalous charm that came with using words that bordered on swears in front of an upperclassman had still not yet worn off.

His face sobered for a moment, the smile fading from his lips, but not his eyes, “Thanks. I appreciate it. All of it.” Short, simple and earnest.

The imprint that the conversation had left could not be overstated, the wheels in his mind already turning, taking the advice that she had provided to heart even as he stood before her. There wasn’t room for weakness, really, and if he allowed it, then not only he, but those who he cared about, would likely suffer for it. His anger was a tool, a tool that he needed to use intelligently to get what he wanted, rules be damned. Whatever her intention may have been in humouring the first year, it was clear at least that Falentra’s words had rubbed off immensely, and the boy’s thinking would soon shift.

A curt nod, a sign of respect and appreciation, and Nicholas would make himself scarce. There was much to consider.

Tags: @Falentra Black
Action: Leaving Thread