Fall From Grace → Ophelia Rookwood

[Thorfinn Rowle]

Thorfinn twirled the unlit cigarette between his fingers as he spoke to the male Carrow, being pleasant enough even though it was obvious from his fidgeting that he'd been interrupted on his way outside for a smoke. "No, really. That's really interesting, but I just need to - if you could excuse me for a moment." he sidestepped the shorter man & headed past a few others that were gathered around, speaking in hushed tones, & stepped outside the front door, sighing contently at the cool evening air filling his lungs. He knew he'd have to stay there that night - he really had no where else to go. The month was up, his home was no longer his, & even if he managed to return to it, it'd be empty of all of his possessions, everything he had, he'd moved to his vault. He frowned to himself, feeling surprisingly lonely for the first time in a long time, & lit his cigarette carefully, then eyed it. He'd have to stop smoking these, as well. He could hardly afford such a habit.

"Ophelia." he spoke when he finally noticed the other girl on the porch. The porch itself was large enough to house multiple people without anyone else knowing, if they were quiet enough. "You startled me." he told her, even though he had done nothing physically to indicate being scared.

[Ophelia Rookwood]

As was normal, Ophelia was hanging around Lestrange manor, she couldn't deal with the loneliness of school for too long, and then she wanted to know what was going on, especially now Luke was caught up in it, the training, she'd attempted to catch a word with him but he'd gone as soon as the meeting had finished. Sighing, she stood on the porch, dealing wish a small wound on her left side, something that looked like a deep scratch, the blood coating making it look much worse than it was.

She sighed, using the end of her jumper to dap at the gash as she grimaced slightly. "You've had worse-" she whispered to herself as she closed her eyes, her hand reaching to wipe excess blood off of her fingers onto a bush.

Pausing as she heard someone come out on the porch, she pulled her jumper down, covering the mark, the darkness outside shading the red, sticky substance that was slowly seeping through her jumper. "Thorfinn." She spoke, unordinary quiet for the brunette. "Believe it or not I was here first-" she snapped in response, feeling a little on edge as she leaned against the porch railing and looked at him, head tilted slightly.

[Thorfinn Rowle]

He almost smirked at her tone, putting his hands up in defense, the action causing a little ash to fall from the end of his cigarette onto the worn out wood at his feet. "I never said you weren't." he assured her, clearly not in the mood for a fight. "Just.. having a cigarette." he spoke carefully, as if trying to talk down a psycho that was holding a wand to him. 

"Were you sitting out here all alone this whole time?" he asked instead, his tone less mocking & more curious. He kept his eyes on her as he raised the cigarette to his lips & took a long, comforting drag from it. He'd have to make what he had left of this packet last.

[Ophelia Rookwood]

"I-" She paused, eyes rolling just a little, more at herself than at him. "I have eyes." She responded simply, glancing him up and down. "I can see what you're doing." Dampening her lower lip, Phe held her arm carefully into her side, trying to press her jumper into the cut to stop it bleeding.

"No, only just come out of here actually-" She started, glancing down at herself carefully before shuffling and stretching her jumper a little. "Just wanted a little fresh air." She added, gaze flicking to his cigarette in a somewhat disapproving manner that, had she not had a stabbing pain in her side would have come across more playful.

[Thorfinn Rowle]

He glanced at the cigarette, chewing his lip guiltily, then took another drag of it. He'd normally take her hint & stub it out immediately, but he had no idea when he'd be able to have another. He'd have to ration out what was left of them later that night. "Working on quitting." he told her, only a half-lie, really. He did, though, for her sake, take a small step back from her, making sure to be at an angle so that the smoke wouldn't blow in her direction.

"Why exactly are you out here alone, then?" he asked, glancing back toward the front door.

[Ophelia Rookwood]

Phe gave the older man a weak smile as she turned a little, moving so she could rest her arms against the railing, her gaze looking down the path from the house towards the gates. "Could help to just quit. Rather than just 'working on it'" She said, as though it was just that simple. Sure, she'd smoked before, but she'd never had an addiction to them, she didn't know what craving them felt like.

"Fresh air." She repeated, half-lying. The fresh air was probably stopping her from collapsing and being outside got her away from everyone in order to clean herself up. Sighing, she shuffled a little uncomfortably on the spot.

[Thorfinn Rowle]

He rolled his eyes, saying sarcastically. "Just quit? Wow, I wish I'd thought of that."

He squinted, taking a closer look at her before tossing the small remainder of the cigarette away & stepping closer to her quickly, brows immediately furrowing in concern, all sarcasm & playfulness gone from him. "You're hurt." he observed, sinking down to crouch on his haunches, knees cracking softly as he did.

[Ophelia Rookwood]

Phe sighed to herself, head tilting. "Oh, har har, aren't you hilarious."

Shifting, Phe turned away from him a little, hiding the bloodied side of her body in the shade, her arm positioned over where the thick seeping blood was coming through her jumper, threatening to drip to the ground. "I'm fine." She answered, her voice refusing to waver.

[Thorfinn Rowle]

"Don't bother lying to me." he insisted. It wasn't that he didn't think she was strong enough to deal with it, it was that he didn't think she should need to. "Come here." he insisted, reaching up & gently pulling her closer by her not-bleeding hip, trying to get a better look. For once his face was void of any sort of playfulness or teasing, now, just genuine concern. 

He'd stitched up & cleaned out more than just a few of Tiff's wounds from time to time & had a bit of experience in the department of cleaning up the messes that Brent seemed to make out of women.

[Ophelia Rookwood]

Exhaling, Phe did her best not to wince as he pulled her forward, she didn't want to come across weak. It was miniature compared to what she was used to. "I'm fine." She repeated softly, her arm moving uncomfortably as a blood drop dripped from her jumper, splashing against the dry wood of the patio, seeping into the faded varnish.

"I'm fine." She repeated a third time as she moved her arm, blood running down the clothing that covered the cut. "It's nothing."

[Thorfinn Rowle]

"Get rid of this." he said, nearly cutting her off & talking over her, clearly not listening to a word she was really saying - that, or, he didn't believe her - possibly a mix of both. His fingers tugged softly at the sleeve of her jumper in gesture, his eyes sliding upward to catch her eye as he stayed crouched in front of the smaller brunette girl. He let go to give her a moment to go through with his request.

[Ophelia Rookwood]

Phe looked at him, a sort of sadness in her gaze, usually she hid it well but not so much lately, everything was getting to her, she was lonely, if nothing else and being who she was she found it difficult to back down and accept help, in any form. "I'm fine." She repeated, the words catching in the back of her throat. "It's nothing."

Standing on the spot for a moment, Phe slowly lifted her jumped, not pulling it off because the movements hurt. Underneath she wore a white tank top, now stained a deep red colour, the fabric sliced just above her hip, the fleshy part of her waist. It seemed to grow, like the cut was deepening and as it deepened to tore her skin further. Exhaling softly, she dropped her jumper again, arm pressing down against it. "I can deal with it." She whispered softly, looking over her shoulder to look at the front door of the house. "It's just a scratch."

[Thorfinn Rowle]

"Shut up." he replied to her refusing to admit the pain she was in, rolling his eyes at her, though not entirely cruelly. He pulled out his wand & sliced cleanly down the not-bloody side of the jumper, using his hands to tear the neckline away as he held his wand now between his teeth. "That should be cleaned, or it won't heal properly. Magic or not." he insisted, voice muffled as he spoke around the wand in his mouth.

Tossing the torn piece of material aside, he gestured for her to step closer, out of the dark, so he could see her better again. "At least let me look at it properly." he insisted.

[Ophelia Rookwood]

Phe glared at him, deeply, her eyes awakening some kind of rage within her. Mainly because she had an aching pain in her side and she was somewhat touchy. "Rude." She retorted, her gaze dropping for a moment as she broke her glare off. Tilting her head she glanced up again, an eyebrow raising as she ignored his point about needing it cleaned. She already knew that. "Do you usually undress teenagers like this?" She questioned in a somewhat sarcastically sweet tone of voice.

"I can sort myself out." She responded simply as she took a step forward. "I'm used to cleaning myself up, believe it or not."

[Thorfinn Rowle]

"Like this?" he repeated, taking it in stride, "Er, no, usually less blood involved." he replied, as if quite serious. He looked up at her & gave her a soft sigh, rubbing his temples gently. "Look. We both know you're tough. Now cut the shit & get this out of the way." he gestured to her shirt, not wanting to literally undress the poor girl.