Bloody Expectant PV Howard & Arc Reopened

Interacting with: @Erin Ryan & @Howard White

The Library of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Many students, mostly Ravenclaws, considered it a sanctuary, a safe haven for amassing knowledge. And Arc Perscivious was one of those students. He was sitting in one of the Victorian-style chairs in the middle of the room with books upon books piling up next to him. There was just so many books to read! Too many in fact, sometimes the boy did not think that he had enough time in the world to read them all.

If one had the care -and courage- to analyse his book selection, they would realize he had interest in so many things. For now, he had not focused on one subject as he was trying to cover up his basics. So, in that pile there was an introductory book for Arithmancy, Charms, Astrology, and Divination that he took from the left side of the library and a high-school level Muggle Physics book, a biography of the British Warlock, Jarleth Hobart, and a high-fantasy novel by John Ronald Reuel Tolkien which he had taken from the right side of the library. He had some mild curiosity to the books within the Restricted Section, but he could not even say that he had scoured all the low hanging information in the non-restricted section. So, there was no point going there. For now.

As usual, other students gave a wide breadth to the eerily scary young Prefect. He was using one wide wooden table by himself as no one wanted to be in the same table as him. Thankfully, it was not the time for OWLs or NEWTs, else they wouldn’t have the leisure to be picky about their sitting place. The dark-haired boy did not mind that, though. It was going to be another peaceful evening. And he was fine reading alone. Heck, when he concentrated on something, he wouldn’t even notice his surroundings.

That was why when a bloodied hand was suddenly placed over the pages he was reading, Arc was totally in shock. He almost jumped backwards, but he stopped himself short with only a small skid of his chair and a silent jerk. His respect to the silence of the library won over his impulse. Even that reaction was already too noisy for him. There was now a palm print on the book he was reading, but thankfully, it was his own book that got dirtied. He was taking a break from all the library books with a more mundane Muggle History he bought before coming to Hogwarts. What was this anyway? Red paint? It took one deep breath for Arc to calm himself down and he realized that there were two people next to him now.

"Ravenclaw," came a voice from beside him. The boy only needed a split second of looking at the girl’s face to realize who she was. It was the bleeding girl from the bathroom! He would recognize her striking eyes and hair anywhere. “I need you to look at…Howard. There is something wrong and I need your raven-brain,” she continued. She was not bleeding again. Well, she would not be bleeding all the time. She should not be. That was just silly. And bad for her health. But-BY THE GODS, now it was the other boy that was bleeding?! What was wrong with these two?! “Can you just take a look at him?"

The girl was distractingly beautiful, but the young Eagle's head immediately shifted gear as he took a closer look at the wounded boy. "What in the name of bloody hells happened here?" Arc whispered. It was already too loud for him. Did the girl do this to Howard this time? Revenge? That would be a question for later, though. He did not need the motivation, stopping the bleeding came first. He put down his book and immediately skimmed through the other boy's whole body from head to toe. There was blood everywhere but there was no apparent bleeding source. None that would be fatal anyway.

At first, he thought his chest was bleeding with all the blood pooling there. But it turned out to only be his left hand, most likely one of his fingers. Depending on how deep the wound was, his finger might be in danger, but it was not life threatening. Beside that, he was conscious and he could sit on his own, so he should not be too bad. He could probably patch him somewhat first, before going to the Hospital Wing for further inspection and healing. But...there was something off about him. Arc just could not put his finger on what it was.

"Howard, is it? Give me your left hand," said the boy quietly.

OOC: If it’s ok with you all, this would take place before the Blossom Fest and Howard’s transformation into a Dhampir. Just for timeline purposes.

IC:
Howard stumbled through the library doors, his right arm still slung around Erin’s shoulders as he clutched his left arm to his chest. The bleeding had subsided, slowing to a trickle, but his appearance would be ghastly. The front of his shirt was drenched in blood, some of it making its way to his face, lots of if running down his arm. He was also covered in dirt and soot from the fire, not to mention he stank like something awful. Close contact with the creatures had left thier stench on him. The events of the evening were really starting to take their toll on the boy. Every blink lasted a full second as his eye lids became increasingly heavy. He yearned to sit or lay down, his finger throbbed and his head still swam. 

“There he is.” Erin called out as she spotted her target. It would be immediately followed by a harsh shushing.

“Get...bent.” Howard said sluggishly. A gut reaction as he wasn’t even sure who had scolded them. 

Erin lead him to a lonely table occupied by a lonely boy. The Ravenclaw she had mentioned before, the one from the bathroom, the pooper that had interrupted their last fight. Howard released his hold on Erin and staggered over to a chair near the other boy and plopped down hard. He winced and shuffled around until he found a somewhat comfortable position. His weary eyes would wobble their way over to the Raven boy. Like most of his kind he would have his head buried in a book. Didn’t they know how vulnerable that left them?

“Ravenclaw.” Erin called out to to him as she laid her bloodied hand over his book, startling him. She always had such a way with words. “I need you to look at...Howard. There is something wrong and I need your Raven-Brain. Can you just take a look at him?”

The Ravenclaw would look up from his book, a brief shock in his eyes. Howard met them with his own. He would immediately push his back into his chair, his eyes widening as he took in the site before him. Even through dulled senses, Howard was taken aback by the sight of him. Boys had never caught his eye before, but this one, this one was striking. It didn’t make him feel the way he did when looking at a pretty girl, but the Ravenclaw was undeniably beautiful. At the same time the hairs on Howard’s neck stood on end, a slight shiver ran down his spine. Although very attractive, their was something off about the other boy. Something unsettling, something...scary. Howard’s legs instinctively kicked out, sliding his chair back.

“What in the name of bloody hells happened here?” He inquired with a whisper. “Howard is it? Give me your left hand.” 

Howard looked down to his injured finger, shifting his torso away from the Raven boy. His eyes fluttered over to Erin, squinting in a way that said,  “What the hell?”. “The fucks with this guy?” He didn’t bother to whisper. With a cautious look towards the other boy, Howard laid his left hand on the table in front of him. The nail of his index finger was missing, in its place was a bloodied nail bed. It was swollen, the blood had turned a dark, almost blackish red as it began to clot. Only a few drops of fresh blood would seep through the forming scab. “They took it from me.” This time his words would be a whisper as he spoke to himself just as much as the others.

Passives: Fearless (Ability) & Veela.

They knew how to make an entrance, bloodied, filthy and smelling rank, like they spent the night in an outhouse. They were not particularly quiet, Erin bumped a few table corners causing the towers of books to wobble, nearly fall and in some cases topple over. Erin and Howard were rather similar people it would seem despite their constant animosity towards each other, he was no less unpleasant than she would normally be in this situation.

“Get...bent.”

She continued to shuffle along, burdened still by the Hufflepuff's weight. Strong as she might be, the burden of the larger youth up these flights of stairs from the dungeons to the Library had left her fatigued. As intrusive as ever, she made her presence known to the Ravenclaw by obscuring whatever it was that he was reading. She could not be bothered to actually read the title of the book she was more likely to curl with than crack open. 


"What in the name of bloody hells happened here?"

Arc asked.

"Fight," Erin lied. She purposefully omitted any details, those were harder to remember when there was no truth behind them. 

“Howard is it? Give me your left hand.”

Arc commanded.

Howard gave her a strange look, his resting bitch face contorted into yet another expression of confusion and displeasure. She could not feel what he felt, not anymore. What? She mouthed.

Fearless. Erin was in many ways a dullard, she lacked the primal sense that Howard had, the one that told him that there was something dangerous about Arc. All she saw was an unusually handsome nerd.  Howard sensed something else, although Erin would not realize what, to her Howard was just acting weird as he kicked himself away from the table. Howard was not the warmest guy she had ever met, in fact he was about as prickly as they came.

“The fucks with this guy?”

"Dude give him your hand," Erin reinforced "stopping being a drama queen." There was nothing wrong with Arc, at least from the Slytherin's vantage-point. "You let a smelly old lady rip off --" shit! "I mean... you broke it off punching." Erin scooted over towards Howard, she would going to make him show Arc his hand but he did it on his own. She frowned as he revealed the raw, clotting but likely still throbbing digit to Arc. 

“They took it from me.” Howard confirmed. She gave Howard an accusatory glare, not that she was very good at keeping the secret either. She was not entirely sure of why it should be a secret but she felt as if she had done something wrong. There was this weird, lead-like feeling in the pit of her gut that she did not quite understand. It was guilt. She had not felt her own guilt before. She did not understand it. She did not like it. 

"Do fingernails grow back?" Erin asked Arc. A strange question to ask, one that lacked logic in her mind but came out anyways. That was the thing with guilt and blame, priorities change and unimportant, illogical things become topics of interest. 

Interacting with: @Erin Ryan & @Howard White

As their eyes met, Howard seemed to be taken aback as he slid his chair back and shifted his torso away from Arc before looking down to his injured finger. His eyes then fluttered over to the girl. “The fucks with this guy?” He said quite loudly among the silent Library.

Arc raised his eyebrows to that. He felt like nothing was wrong with him. But then again, if there was actually something wrong with him, would he feel it? Could he? Maybe people were justified to be scared or unsettled by him. He wanted to argue and asked what in the name of all fucks was wrong with him, but he did not think it would be productive. He had tried it before. And in this case, it would only attract even more unwanted attention.

"Dude give him your hand," the pretty girl said, "stop being a drama queen. You let a smelly old lady rip off -- I mean... you broke it off punching."

Wait. What? A smelly old lady? Who would that be? A professor? Or was she just mocking some upperclassmen? Upperclasswomen? Yeah, that would most likely be it. Anyway, fighting was against the rule, though. Disrespecting a professor as well, if they actually fought one. And they would already be in the Hospital Wing by now if they truly were fighting with a professor. And then straight to detention. But apparently not. So, were they fighting an upperclasswoman? Should he give them detention, then? Nah. Anyway, helping this so called Howard came first.

With a cautious look towards the Ravenclaw, Howard laid his left hand on the table in front of him and Arc moved closer to pay more attention to it. The nail of his index finger was missing and his nail bed was bloodied. The blood flow was steady, instead of pulsating, which was a good sign. It meant that the blood came from the veins instead of the arteries. From the not so clear cut and the torn pieces of skin, though, it truly seemed like the nail was forcefully ripped from the index finger. Wh-who would do such a thing? It was a very oddly specific thing to do.

His finger was swollen and clot was only beginning to form. There were still a few drops of fresh blood dripping, though. Hm... This was doable. It should be painful as heck and the blood might be scary, but again, it was not life threatening. It was a shallow wound and no structure underneath seemed to be damaged. At least, not to his untrained eyes. Arc was more concern about the infection that might happen later if the wound was let to heal by itself. What was it called again? Her mum had told him a story about such a thing. Toxic shock syndrome? Was that it? But it really rarely happened. Probably even more so in the magical world.

“They took it from me.” The injured boy whispered. Arc almost did not notice the accusatory glare the girl gave as he was paying attention at the wound, but he saw it nonetheless.

“Okay, first of all, I did not think it was as bad as it looks.” The young Prefect looked at Howard and then Erin to somewhat calm them down. “And I can probably stop the bleeding. It would hurt, though.” The dark-haired boy took the handkerchief he had on his chest pocket. It was probably the cleanest piece of cloth he had on his body currently. He just washed it yesterday and he had not used it since then. Not that he was using it anyway. Bringing a handkerchief all the time was just a habit he developed growing up. His outfit just did not feel complete without it. And it gave him comfort knowing that it was there. You just never knew when the sneeze would arise. Or you know, a bloody hand.

“This is what’s going to happen. I’m going to wrap my handkerchief around the tip of your index finger and put some pressure on it. It will take a couple minutes. Do you get me so far?” Arc gave a chance for his words to sink in and let the boy gave him his consent. “Again, it will hurt, but please, do not pull your hand from me, okay? It might re-open the wound.”

If Howard let him, then the pale boy would do as he said and put pressure on the nail bed of his index finger to stop the bleeding. It would certainly dirty his handkerchief. But it could be cleaned later. Or he could just get a new one. No biggie. He would have to hold the older boy’s finger for a few minutes, though, and he did not want to fill it with awkward silence. “Um. For my second point, I don’t wanna know who you two were fighting with. And I don’t want to give you detention for fighting. But I have to ask, why would they do this to you?” It was just a really weird thing to do. Even if Arc was not as curious as he was, that was just a very logical question to ask.

"Do fingernails grow back?" The girl suddenly asked. She seemed truly worried. Or guilty. Arc was not sure.

“Yes,” he chuckled a little. “It does grow back. As long as the nail matrix in the moon-shaped whitish thing at the base of the nail, called lunula, is not damaged.” Arc smiled at Erin. “Which does not seem to be the case for Howard. It will grow very slowly, though. Well, at least naturally. I’m pretty sure there was a potion that could make it grow faster.” Arc gave a pause as he tried to remember the potion’s name. It was on the tip of his tongue, but it kept slipping by. Eh. It would probably come to him late at night when he needed the memory the least. Stupid pickle brain. “Anyway, it usually takes around 6 months for it to cover his finger again. I say that from both a book and experience.”

“Dude give him your hand, stop being a drama queen.” Erin spoke forcefully. The hour was late and the events of the evening were weighing heavy on Howard. His eyes lazily shifted in her direction, they would appear heavy and bloodshot. The lids of his eyes would droop up and down as his blinks came slowly and far between. As fatigued as he may be, Howard still mustered up the strength to shoot her a bloody middle finger. He winced from the movement, but it was worth the pain. 

“You let a smelly old lady rip off- I mean...you broke it off punching.” Erin stumbled over her words. She had been acting strangely since their departure from the dungeons. Something was off with the young Slytherin, well, something was always off with Erin, but even through his muddled mind, Howard sensed a change. The Erin he had come to know wouldn’t have gave a damn about keeping secrets. She’d have told the truth and then lied, fought or manipulated her way out of any consequences. No, she seemed uncomfortable. Something Howard had never seen from the girl besides when experiencing  physical pain. However, he was too tired and his hand hurt too badly to try and figure it out. He had no time for secrets tonight.

“They took it from me.” Howard spoke in a whisper as he presented his hand to the dark haired Ravenclaw. He could feel Erin’s glare on him, but he dismissed her with a wave of his good hand. Howard still couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that coursed through him when he made eye contact with the other boy. It wasn’t his appearance. Quite the opposite as he had noticed earlier. It was his aura, his vibe, a sense of dread that seemed to oozed out of him like body odor. Howard broke eye contact and simply stared at his injured finger. 

“Okay, first of all, I do not think it’s as bad as it looks.” Howard could feel the gaze of the other boy as he began to speak, but he did not meet it. “And I can probably stop the bleeding. It would hurt, though.” No shit. Howard thought to himself as the boy drew a handkerchief from his pocket. “This is what’s going to happen. I’m going to wrap my handkerchief around the tip of your index finger and put some pressure on it. It will take a couple of minutes. Do you get me so far?”

“Yeah dude! I get it.” Howard snapped back at the other boy, as he dared some eye contact. He shouldn’t have blamed him for the explanation, but his patience was worn thin. “Just do it!” Howard should have been nicer. “Guhhh!” The cry was guttural as the pressure was applied to his injury. The pain shot through his hand and through out his body, the kind of shock that makes your toes curl. Howard’s good hand slammed on the table as he buried his face into the sleeve of his shirt and breathed deeply until the pain dulled. Whatever fatigue he was feeling before diminished as the adrenaline pumped through his veins. 

“Um. For my second point, I don’t want to know who you two were fighting with. And I don’t want to give you detention for fighting. But I have to ask, why would they do this to you?” The boy broke the silence with his inquiry. 

Howard would raise his head from his arm. This time his eyes would firmly meet with the other boy’s. If he paid attention, he may just spot the flash of anger that tore through them. He now understood why Erin might have wanted to tip toe around the subject of what they had been up to. The boy had outed himself as a Prefect with the mention of detention. Why the hell would she bring him to a Prefect!? He shot her a nasty look as Howard’s good hand slid from the table and rested on top of his pants pocket, a slight jingle of coin may be heard as he did so. Little did the other boy know that this wasn’t merely pocket change. He already knew too much. Howard’s mind spun as he considered the best approach. There was no point trying to lie about how he sustained the injury, the Prefect already knew that someone had taken it from him. He chose to be brash. “It’s none of your concern.”

“Do fingernails grow back?” Fortunately Erin interrupted. Howard sat still as the Prefect answered her question, his eyes nervously shifting between the two.

Howard shot her the finger. That had to fucking hurt. She chuckled. Much like he thought, she thought the same -- worth it.

This Howard was not the Howard that had come to Hogwarts. This Howard had hardened edges and an ambition that matched her own. It was unsettling and it was her fault. Did she miss the old Howard? No, not really, he was like a jelly doughnut, overly saccharine on the surface and gooey on the inside. He was also a liar, pretending to be that jelly doughnut when he was this rough piece of wood to the point of detriment and deterioration. Yet she still felt... guilty. Was that the sense she was now feeling? This regret? This yearning to have done something different. This dissatisfaction with her choices and feeling that she was selfish and more than that, that being selfish might not be a good thing.  

She would never admit that. Instead she needled Howard as she always had. 

Arc would fix him. The trust she put in him was uncanny for the girl, but she did not know a lot of people that would rather see her scream than heal besides Arc. Paracelsus was not particularly useful, she kept him around for other reasons. Alexander had discovered girls, there was some Slytherin girl that he was following around like a puppy these days. Thomas as missing, she was scared for him. Huh, scared, what a novel concept. 

Arc mentioned detention and Howard shot her a look. Erin shot him back the same glare. "He is helping you, who the fuck cares if we have to clean a room or sit in an empty classroom a few hours," she snapped with a harsh whisper. "I don't know shit about..." she gestured towards his bleeding hand. If she was to tend to his wound, the phalange would more than likely fall off if she even tried. Erin was better at breaking than mending. 

Arc would try to find out what happened. Howard had already divulged that it was taken. There was no use lying, she expected him to just spill everything to the Prefect. She frowned. Rather than tell it all, he gave Arc a stone wall. Not a smart choice considering Arc had his injured finger in his hand. Probably would have waited until his digit was out of Arc's reach. Of course, she was thinking of what she would do in Arc's position. She would have extracted what she wanted to know, using Howard's finger as leverage. 

She asked a question of her own about nails. Do they grow back? Anything that might distract the Ravenclaw. She was not incredibly clever, but most men have a short attention span. Arc might not be an exception. He went on and said a bunch of words like "mattress" and "luna" but she did catch the part of his explanation where he said that the nail would grow back. She nodded her had, yes she totally understood the words he said [/sarcasm].

"He does not need any more trouble," she mouthed toward's Arc with a pleading expression. She just wanted him bandaged up and she could bring him back to his dorm. Simple wants. Simple plans. The crones really liked him, and now that she had gotten what she had always wanted she did not feel joy. She was simply unsettled. She was lost in her thoughts, everything was a distraction. 

"He is just super tired," Erin might have been telling the truth but she was just making up an excuse. "And hangry," she added "he is never himself when he is hungry." A cliche statement, one he would probably be his normal (because this really was him) self and say something miserable or snarky. Her impulse would be to wack him on the back of the head but the impulse would be muted by this bothersome guilt. "I will tell you about what happened later," she lied. She was deferring the inquiry to a later time. She would have more time to come up with a lie. He would have more time to forget the facts surrounding what he knew and what was said. Maybe she could gaslight him a bit. "I got to get him back to his Huffles," she concluded.

Interacting with: @Erin Ryan & @Howard White

Apparently, Howard was not the most patient man. Then again, he was not yet a man. At most, the bleeding boy was probably only two years older than him. And with how much pain he was experiencing, Arc just had to forgive him for all the shouting and anger. He was giving him the benefit of the doubt. The boy was sure Howard was not being himself. Probably.

Once Arc mentioned detention, something seemed to change from Howard, though. He was more…daring? Was that anger he saw? Well, even more anger than before? Arc knew the older boy would be able to read between the line. He was pretty sure Howard was bright, albeit a bit problematic. But being a Prefect was not a big enough reason for someone to be this angry at… Right?

The older boy’s eyes firmly met with him and Arc stood his ground. It was a curious thing to be stared at. Over the years, not many people were brave enough to look him straight in the eye, especially with such raw emotion. So, it was certainly a novel experience for Arc. The sheer intensity almost made the scrawny boy flinched, but he returned the stare in kind. It was only the polite thing to do, after all. And Arc just waited for his answer.

"He is helping you, who the fuck cares if we have to clean a room or sit in an empty classroom a few hours," said Erin, interjecting. "I don't know shit about..."

“It’s none of your concern,” came the bigger boy’s reply.

Huh. Arc was not sure what he was expecting. How could Erin don’t know anything about what had happened? That was most likely a lie. And for the boy... The tip of the fingers was the most sensitive part of the body. Even the tip of the tongue or lips did not have as much nerve endings and receptors. Being this inflamed would only make it even more sensitive. So, Arc could make this really painful for the angry boy if he wanted to. The Ravenclaw boy certainly would not be as daring if the position had been reversed. Then again, Arc would never have that kind of intention in the first place...even if he could.

Erin interrupted his train of thought with a question about the fingernails’ growth and Arc gladly explained it to them. But he did not forget about his question. There was something fishy going on here. He could smell it. Nope, that was probably just the iron smell from the blood combined with the smell of volatile organic compound of old books. But there was something weird going on for sure. He might need to get to the bottom of this. Oh, man. He would get even less reading time now, wouldn’t he?

"He does not need any more trouble," mouthed Erin with a pleading expression. "He is just super tired," she continued. "And hangry, he is never himself when he is hungry."

“Hmm… Alright. I see,” said Arc noncommittally. He gave a brief a glance towards Erin before he stared back at Howard. It would not be too long now before the bleeding stop.

"I will tell you about what happened later, I got to get him back to his Huffles," she concluded.

After a bit of silence, Arc removed the handkerchief from Howard’s index finger to show that the bleeding had stopped. It was not the best-looking nail bed. It would throb and it would be very sensitive for quite a while as well. But it would do for now. After he made sure that no blood seeped back out, Arc would wrap his handkerchief around the other boy’s finger (if Howard let him), else Howard dirtied the wound again on the way back to the Huffles.

“There. All done. You could keep the handkerchief if you want to or you can get it cleaned before you give it back to me. No biggie.” He smiled to the pair even though he was a bit miffed by them. "This is all I can do to help you. You might want to properly check the wound in the hospital wing later, though," said Arc with a more serious expression. "If it did not heal properly, the new nail could grow crooked or it might even pierce the skin around it. Seriously, you don't want that to happen."

Arc gave a beat to let that sink in before continuing. “I won’t be giving you two any more trouble. I don’t like having or giving troubles. But I will be waiting for you to tell me what exactly happened, Erin." And no, he was not waiting for that conversation because she was blindingly beautiful. Well. She was indeed blindingly beautiful, but that was not the point. "I don’t want this trouble to go around and bite someone else’s ass if I can help it. Ehem. Sorry for the language.”

With another genuine smile, the young Eagle took the Muggle History book he had been reading before and opened page 118, the page with Erin's bloody palm print. Sigh. “Well. If you excuse me, I will go back to my books.”

@Howard White?

Howard kept his eyes diverted from the Prefect, staring down at the table besides a few peeks in Erin’s direction. Who cared if they got in trouble?! Obviously he wasn’t afraid of the damn detention! What if he got one of the Professors involved? What if they somehow found out about what had transpired, or what now lay within his pockets. A torn nail be damned. Howard had sacrificed so much to get to this point, and for what. For Erin to throw it all down the damn drain. 

Howard’s eyes would drift in her direction again as the Prefect applied pressure to his wound. It was so unlike her to bring him here. To bring him to an authority figure over a danger finger.  To even care about it in the first place. Something bizarre had happened down in the bowels of the castle. Not just what had happened between them and those...creatures, but something had changed with her. Howard couldn’t quite get a grasp on it. The burst of adrenaline that came with the pain was subsiding. In its place crept in the exhaustion and a strong urge to clean himself. It clouded his mind as his eye lids few heavy once more. Her bullshit excuse about being hangry would normally have caused a rise in him, but now he didn’t care. Whatever it took to get him far from the Prefect.

Howard felt the pressure release from his finger as the Ravenclaw boy removed the handkerchief from the wound. He dared a glance. The nail bed looked angry and swollen, but at least it was no longer bleeding. He let out a long exhale of relief through his nose as the Prefect explained he would not be giving them a detention. That’s all Howard needed to hear. Whatever weird charm Erin must have seemed to do the trick. Howard stood, a bit wobbly a first until he found his footing. With a flick of his hand the bloodied handkerchief would fall back into the table. “I’m outta here.” Was all he would say as he began to walk away. 

Just as he passed the end of the table, Howard would turn back for just a moment. Using his good hand this time, he would hold up his favorite gesture in Erin’s direction. “See ya around.” Turning on the spot, he made his way toward the library exit. 

Howard exits the thread.