Not so Hangry Now. PV Closed

Siobhan left the children in the waiting room, muttering something under her breath about seeing if she could find a way to have a healer come out and see to Aurelia’s finger more swiftly than the deluge of people would otherwise allow. After all, a missing finger wasn’t the most difficult malady to heal, she was an unaccompanied minor, and most importantly, Sibohan knew at least a few former colleagues who had relocated to the grand wizarding hospital in London. The pale woman was there one moment, and gone the next, calling out to a man who looked painfully thin as she did so. For Nicholas, the loss of his mother’s presence meant a loss of a sense of normalcy. Silently, he longed that she hadn’t left him. Part of him went further, and wished that he’d never even come across the injured girl and her besital owl.

There was something about her that unsettled him, and the fact that he could not place what it was only served to send those feelings of unease and dread further and further up his spine, so much so that the base of his skull practically thrummed with the drive to flee. The girl was off, that was all there was to it. She was pretty, but in a way that was eerie, her picturesque image somehow feeling wrong, unnatural, even to his untrained eyes. She was a predator, a predator who cared not for her own injuries, more akin to a lioness or prowling spectre than a girl. Being left alone with the girl was not something that Nicholas longed for, not for a moment.

Still, his own feelings were irrelevant to how the girl acted, and she seemed inclined to engage in small talk whilst they waited for the healer who would undo her maiming. It was a question that felt pointed, whether or not she intended it to be so, and the boy found himself fighting back the urge to provide a scathing remark, in spite of his discomfort.

“St George,” He said simply instead, his tone rather flat, “You know, the knight who slayed the dragon. He’s a bearded dragon, and so the name felt… fitting? In a way that’s not entirely fitting.”

He shrugged, evidently not in much of a mood to justify himself, his defensive posturing obvious. That mood only faded further as the girl explained her own name for her pet. Evidently, the owl was a tool, not a creature nor companion. It was the sort of thinking that made Nicholas entirely uncomfortable, discussing a living thing as if it were just another object, regardless of how the living thing in question had actually ended up being more trouble than it was worth. Nicholas did not even realise he was speaking until it was too late, the response having left his mouth before he could parse over it for potential offence.

“Seems you haven’t been feeding the tool much, given that it just ate your finger,” The boy spoke woodenly, none of the usual fire in his voice.

That fire instead chose to rise to his cheeks once he became aware of what he had said. She probably wasn’t the right person to piss off. Hopefully, he had not just done so.

Stats: STA: 12 | EVA: 6 | STR: 8 | WIS: 6 | ARC: 4 | ACC: 6
Abilities: Foulplay | Statistically Relevant
Tags: @Aurelia Notrésvace

"Hm." Aurelia acknowledged the boy's reasoning on his pet's name. His lizard had been named after a human, one who slain dragons simply because it was a species of reptile. Honestly, didn't make quite much sense but Aurelia would not question the boy's choice of pet name any further. Was unlikely that Nick had more to it.

A remark bleeding with such passive-aggressiveness was bound to elicit a negative response, whether intentional or not. With 4 years of experience in the dramatics of Hogwarts, Aurelia was well equipped in handling such situations. "You don't like me do you?" An entirely blunt question muttered under her breath. The answer may as well be quite obvious. Yet she showed no signs of having taken an offence with the corner of her lips was pulled up in a rather derisive smirk. Although they have only known the other for less than an hour's worth, it would seem that the boy had already conjured up an impression against her. Another one in many. No doubt, partially due to her presence that she was very self-aware off. "Rather fortunate she devoured my finger and not your pet, don't you think? I could have let her." She countered, eyes narrowing in a glare.

The older girl would continue with uncomfortable bluntness. "In fact, I have fed the tool. Just this morning, a conjured dove and later, a cellar mouse. Aspen decapitated their heads just like she did my finger. She is a bird of prey, allowed much freedom and can hunt whenever she pleases." In reality, owning an owl, whether as a pet or tool, came with its less sightly moments. Nick asked and an answer he would get regardless of whether it was his liking or not. Perhaps in the future, he would be more careful with words.

Extending the back of her hand in front of her, Aurelia would inspect her finger, or lack of, again. "I like to relate them to dhampirs. Some with an initiable hunger act on the impulse to the detriment of those around, others with a bit more control."

Such a blunt response to a question oozing with passive aggression set Nicholas firmly on the backfoot. He hadn’t become accustomed to such blatant statements of intent. It seemed that so many students at the school for witchcraft and wizardry insisted upon hiding their intentions behind falsely-honeyed words. He’d expected some sort of thinly veiled insult, not such a direct attempt to ascertain his motives. Nicholas was all but forced to take a defensive posture as the conversation moved forward, and heaven above knew that defence wasn’t his natural inclination. The boy shivered, something about the girl was entirely off-putting, and he found the unnatural sensation of dread that seemed to creep up and down his spine serving as the filter he so often failed to have.

“I don’t know you,” Was all that he said in response, as if that alone was sufficient enough a response to her question.

For it was the truth, he did not know the girl, and certainly hadn’t made a values judgement about her, nor had he decided whether he liked her or not. He certainly didn’t like the day that he was having, nor did he particularly like how she had acted, yet he could not place his finger on to the reason behind such a decision.

Still, her response was fair enough, she had lost the finger attempting to protect Nicholas’s pet. Perhaps, he should not be so hasty to judge. Although, even as he was formulating the apology, he found that the words died in his throat, for the older girl continued to speak. Suddenly, the cause behind the attack became apparent. The owl had been allowed to hunt whenever it wished, and moreover, had been provided with live prey. No longer its predatory instincts remained so sharp, it was hardly a tamed animal at all, wild in all but name. It was a tool that she could not control.

“Thank you,” Nicholas started, the words tasting peculiar as venom mixed with genuine gratitude, “I do appreciate you saving George. Although, I suppose that there would be no danger were you not there.”

No point in playing the shrinking violet now, no matter how much he longed to slip into that role, no matter how uncomfortable he felt. The smart thing to do would be to simply nod politely and wait for the healer to come forth and mend the severed finger. Of course, that would require him to not charge headlong into an entirely stupid situation, and discretion was not in his nature.

Although, he did find himself side-swiped once more by her comment with regard to dhampirs. He hadn’t met any of the half-vampires himself, outside of the trial by fear and the bloody shower which he had endured. That experience had been telling, a series of impassioned speeches regarding part-human oppression which were filled with a multitude of words and emotions but were ultimately empty. He quirked his head, as if unsure how to react, once more his balance in the conversation was thrown off kilter. Still, the thread of the topic loomed over him and he found himself answering, once more without thought.

“Dhampirs?” He asked simply, “What of them?”

Nicholas thought back to what had been said all those months ago, the words long since lost to the recesses of his memory. Yet, the general themes of those speeches remained intact in his mind, and it was those vague memories from which he drew.

“Control,” He muttered, not realising that he was speaking aloud. Yet, he had spoken, so he allowed for the thought to formulate aloud, “Control and dhampirs, they’re always brought up together. Did something happen?”

Stats: STA: 12 | EVA: 6 | STR: 8 | WIS: 6 | ARC: 4 | ACC: 6
Abilities: Foulplay | Statistically Relevant
Tags: @Aurelia Notrésvace
Action:

Acceptance was what human nature craved for but so was comfort. And the aura of darkness, shifting and shaking shadows themselves, would not allow one to be anywhere near at ease with her. That much Aurelia had come to accept over the years. However this phenomenon developed, she could only wonder. A defence mechanism? The magical result of some sort of trauma? Or perhaps the residue creation of a dhampir's bite. The boy certainly was not comfortable around her.

"Neither do I know what it is." a few words muttered under her breath. Whatever that meant, was left for Nico to figure out.

Towards dhampirs the topic of conversation drew more onto. A shadow of a smirk forming at the corner of her lips. Finally, something a little more of her interest to talk about. "Yes, something did happen. An... accident a few years back... swept mysteriously under the rug only to resurface on the pages of the last few school papers. Have you read them?" Aurelia stated, a hint of annoyance in her words. "Control or not, a starving dhampir eventually has to feed. A very apparent danger is if they don't. But viewed badly if they do." she explained. "Even animals have it better."

"In fact, you'd never really know if one in your close vicinity consumes blood at their discretion. A comment, humorous in her perspective, probably less so in the boys. Once she had a scuffle with another trying to scare them with that very fact she was not. Albeit dark, it was rather fun. Shifting her head subtly, she let her hair long cascade across her shoulder, a small quick glimpse of the unmistakable divots of a scar near the crook of her neck if the boy was keen enough to notice.

“I haven’t,” Nicholas answered truthfully.

He had never bothered with the school paper, never saw much of a point really. He barely ever thought on news that affected the wider world, and his interests were regularly piqued by topics other than those covered in the pages of the Hogwarts Headliner. But evidently something had occurred at the school before he’d started there, something that had been discussed in the paper. A paper that almost certainly circulated before he even started attending the school, a factoid that he bit at his tongue to prevent himself from throwing back at the older girl. No doubt she’d twist it in some way he’d not yet considered.

Perhaps if the advice regarding dhampirs had come from another source, Nicholas would pay it more heed. But his opinion of the girl had been coloured drastically by her behaviour, the way that she’d acted so nonchalantly with regard to the loss of a digit, her pointed comments about animals being tools, even the way that she seemed to consistently carry herself, there was something off about the girl. Something he could at all put his finger on. What he did understand was that he was uneasy, and that meant a certain discounting of her words.

Were there dhampirs at Hogwarts? He supposed there had to be, those two older students who’d assisted with the Trial by Fear certainly had been of that ilk. The memory in itself was peculiar, the sheer terror of the boggart sandwiched between childish calls for equality in the face of discrimination. He’d not wanted to think back to that evening. More than that, the discussion as to dhampirs and half-breeds had been tiresome then, and it was tiresome now. The difference in the two experiences, however, remained evident, where the students that night had preached about the sheer inhumanity faced by those who could boast a non-human ancestor in their recent lineage, this Leia seemed to be of the opinion that there was good reason for such discrimination. Little more than animals, she had said, or at least words to that effect. Given how she treated her owl, he doubted she afforded her classmates any more respect.

Still, he’d heard the other students out. Begrudgingly, granted. He may as well afford Leia that same courtesy.

The scar on her neck did not go unnoticed, and even if he lacked the ability to piece together social clues, he could at least parse together a basic logic puzzle.

“You were attacked by a dhampir?” He asked simply, tone neutral, “At Hogwarts?”

Those words would be all he offered in the query. That seemed to be the case, at least, the story then erased in pursuit of equality. Even as he was led down such a path of questioning, he could not shake that feeling of unease that the girl filled him with. More than her aura, her behaviour put him on edge. The kind of girl who seemed to giggle about losing a finger was hardly the type that he was inclined to trust the judgement of.

Stats: STA: 12 | EVA: 6 | STR: 8 | WIS: 6 | ARC: 4 | ACC: 6
Abilities: Foulplay | Statistically Relevant
Tags: @Aurelia Notrésvace
Action:

"Hm," A short low hum of disappointment at that the prodding of words did not elicit a reaction suitable to satiate her own desire for some amusement of the situation. Instead, a question in response he gave, one that was incredibly direct. This boy was truly short-sighted, quite the representative of his kind. "No. What makes you think so? I merely said dhampirs should be treated better." Her face without a hint of an expression as she asked. Yet, that was not what she said, of course, it wasn't. Contrary to all she had previously insinuated, Aurelia would set Nick the potential befuddlement to rethink how he came to that very conclusion especially now that the scar was once again behind the curtain of hair.

The redirecting the conversation, her head would crane, glancing around for the white-haired woman. "Speaking of which, where is your mother? I really would like my finger back." The pain had manifested into a phantom feeling, a twitch of an appendage that was no longer there. It was odd. At least the blood had clotted and the stub had ceased bleeding. She wondered if the regrowth of the finger would come with some defects.

ooc edit: wrote this after watching an ep of bridgerton. its mid 18s British eng. pls read it as such XD

Nicholas’s brow furrowed at the older girl’s response, her attempt to elicit confusion did not go without notice nor comment, “Right.” Another monosyllabic response, his tone as dry as he could muster.

The hiding of a scar did little to disguise the fact that she’d all but shown it off not a few seconds prior, and her behaviour and attitude did not render her image in the best of lights. Nicholas understood a few things about Leia, such was their discussion so far. The first of which was rather simple, she was dangerous, or at least presented herself as such. Less an ordinary teenage girl than she was a peculiarity. She’d shrugged off a wound with ease, and seemed to be infatuated with discussion as to dhampirs. But what truly struck the soon to be second year as odd was her attempt to back-pedal from her earlier statement. He didn’t believe for a second that she hadn’t been attacked by a dhampir, or rather, that she hadn’t intended for him to draw that conclusion. Whatever her goal was, it seemed clear that at least part of it was built upon a desire to confuse the younger boy. He’d no intention of falling for it.

In any case, Leia did echo his thoughts in one regard. The question as to where Nicholas’s mother had gotten off to. The sooner she returned, the sooner the older student could have her finger reattached and the sooner Nicholas could be free from the girl and her uncomfortable behaviour.

Fortunately, fate seemed to have a funny sense of humour. For instead of Nicholas answering the question himself, Siobhan’s return served to do it for him. A few words were spoken, the offering of a healer not a few moments away, and Leia would be in good hands in mere moments. Her own hand to be restored to pristine condition. In due course, perhaps, hopefully, the trauma of the day too would fade.

@Aurelia Notrésvace