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Slip out the back before they know you were there

and at the worst you'll see nobody cares,

you don't want to be around when it all goes down...

Troubled, lost to a cataclysmic storm, he never once heard her approach, never once felt the stir in the air or the tousle of shadows as she glided, almost on air, a silhouette of darkness-- until she collided with muscled mass. He should have spun around, he supposed, maybe even reach for his wand- but he did none of those things. Instead, he cast a glance over his shoulder, slowly twisting his torso to face her fully. "There can be worse ways," he mused. With a weak nudge of his head, he commanded she follow, never once leaving room for argument.

"I trust your summer went well," his brusque voice thundered against stone walls. He slowed, allowing her to fall in step with him as they circled down deeper, his gold eyes trained on hers, he never could read her. Never could tell when she was lying...

[[on mobile]]

Slip out the back before they know you were there

and at the worst you'll see nobody cares,

you don't want to be around when it all goes down...

He could hardly resist the chuckle that had simmered past his lips, as if it finally boiled over the edge and spewed past his lips with toxic hues of bittersweet honey and poisoned candy tongue. He swung his head casually to meet hers, that malicious smile on his lips that simply knew too much, that daring smile, and, for the most fleeting, glimpse of a millisecond, his eyes narrowed, and a golden eye blinked; instincts would scream trouble to any, or inviting, to the daring. ”Spent it in the Alps, training for my fencing competition during this winter vacation. A few weeks abroad with my father, shaking hands and putting names to faces—the life of an heir,” Tay waved his hand casually in the air as he spoke, a brusque, yet fluid motion of the thick tendons in his arm.

”……I’m sure your summer had to have been a bit more than interesting—especially with that fiasco in the sorting feast earlier… Knockturn Alley? If I recall?”

Slip out the back before they know you were there

and at the worst you'll see nobody cares,

you don't want to be around when it all goes down...

”Is that so?” He seemingly pondered, his tone slow yet purposeful as his mind wove webs of a thousand strands and a smirk fluttered to thin, wry lips on a chiseled square jawbone. A chorus of wonders composed a harmony, vile and daring and poison, the rhythm of vengeance riddled his blood and his heart pounded like drums of war. ”Edgeworth… and Montague, you say?” Slow, and deliberate again, yet his tone fluxed, darkened and rose with amusement at the name of his ancient rival. ”The French prat?” He laughed, thunder rained on iron at the sound, echoing wild on the stone walls.

There was a long, age old hatred between each house, and though there have been ancestors in the past who tried to settle differences—well—vengeance runs as thick as the blood it’s spiraling in. He could barely resist the haughty grin threatening to erupt from the chasms of his throat; but he remained stoic, callous. ”I know him well, his family swore fealty to mine centuries ago, their castle lies on the Nott Estates in Wales…” He explained, despite the known hatred between the English and French from past history, so much more lay nestled between the surface. So much more blood spilt still gone on unjust.

Slip out the back before they know you were there

and at the worst you'll see nobody cares,

you don't want to be around when it all goes down...

Du-dum.…du-dum….du-dum.. du-dum. Du-dum, Tay’s heart pounded, slow at first, but growing wild and erratic and desperate, surging blood through his veins, hate and chaos flowing freely through him, tickling a numbing sensation to his fingers and down to his toes, a sickening spiral of chills crept up and down along his spine like the promise of Hell’s wrath whispering closer. A flash of emotion sparkled in those illustrious gold eyes, veering to meet Michelle with that insidious smile and regal demise he wore so proudly. The shadows, teeming with life and bouncing off of the walls cradled his being, caressing every smooth surface with tangent warmth. ”Is that so?

“Any fun games in mind yet, if I may ask?” His lips curled into a smile most sinister, even death would tip his hat to him.

Slip out the back before they know you were there

and at the worst you'll see nobody cares,

you don't want to be around when it all goes down...

”Ah—the bane of the powerful,” Tay had mused, spiraling farther and farther into the glowering depths deep below the cavernous dungeons, farther down from the touch of eerie cast light reflecting the sun underneath the lakes murky glow of green. The end was nearing, he knew. ”—to have so much power, and know not what to do with it.” His dark voice had chuckled, dark and ominous as it echoed off the concrete walls and clattered to the floor with a chill of haunting wisps of wind.

”Hit him where it hurts; pride and fortune is nothing when the name it stands on has been toiled away—drug through the dirt.” His cousin, Blaire Frost, had done this far too often in his early years at Hogwarts, before he and his family moved back to France, leaving behind little notes, forged and plagiarized. ”Patience can only last as long as regality… so frame them. If you’re lucky, letters will be sent to their parents—hell, Montague might have to sit a game of quidditch out, that’ll tear him, drive him over the edge to do something so reckless he’ll get caught. As for Edgeworth, he’s the bloke that seems like the type to have a lot of dirty little secrets, and if he doesn’t, make them for him…

“..to the corridor?”

[[[[To Dungeon Corridor Level 2]]]

Eliora had followed Dominic as quickly as she could, her hand being trapped in his the entire way as he practically dragged her towards the Dungeon. How they had managed to get away without anyone really noticing, she had no clue. Damien had given them an odd look, and Marina had given him one in return. Mentally, the dark-haired girl shrugged. Whatever the half-blood girl did was none of her concern. But perhaps Dominic should re-think his friendship with Damien if he was going to be caught up with the likes of her and that Hufflepuff girl, Nell. The thought nearly made her snarl, but she attempted to banish the thoughts from her mind. She might mention it to Dom, but ultimately it was up to him. Damien was pretty much his only friend... maybe he could persuade him to stop talking to the red-haired half-witch.

When the pair reached the dungeon staircase, they slowed. Eliora looked around - it was empty. "Dom, wha' are we doing?.." she whispered, her cheeks flushed from the hurried escape from the Great Hall, roses against her porcelain skin. Her obsidian eyes glittered but showed her worry. As they slowed, she smoothed down her skirt, which had gotten somewhat disarrayed, as well as her robes.

Eliora blushed and shivered as Dominic's ice blue eyes connected with her own cold black ones. Teeth worried her bottom lip as she stopped and leaned back against one of the cold stone walls and looked down. "No, Dom... Tha's no' so bad... If..." She couldn't bring herself to say it. ... If i'm your girlfriend... She couldn't say the words. All last year they had spent time together. She had drawn him pictures. Over the summer, they went for icecream, or to the art store, and he finally held her hand. For a boy so bold, so possessive, so... dominating... He could be so timid at times. She didn't understand. But she wasn't about to take charge.

Everyone already considered them "boyfriend and girlfriend". Eliora still didn't know what that meant. What, exactly, did a boyfriend and girlfriend do? When Eli had spoken with her mom about the issue, she told Eli that Dominic was "courting" her. That meant he was doing pretty much everything a boyfriend should do... but very slowly, and without the title. She said that was normal in high society. But they had been so far removed from it her entire life, regardless of bloodline. Her father had chosen to live so far away from it all. Now Eliora just felt lost.

She knew how people looked at her for being with Dominic. For how she acted with him. Marina gave her weird looks... Not like the half-blood matters... she reminded herself. But people thought it was weird how she acted. She guessed she was timid with Dom. But he didn't seem to mind... did he though?..

Dark eyes met blue in snap. He sounded almost panicked, yet still demanding. Why was he panicking? He wasn't going to lose her.

"Dom, please, donnae be upset," she whispered, one hand reaching out to touch his upper arm. She wished to sooth him. He had too much loss recently.

"It's just... We spend so much time together. People think you're my... Boyfriend. I donnae even know wha' tha' means, Dominic. Wha' does tha' mean for us?.. Me mum, she says you're 'courting' me. She says tha's special. Bu'... i jus'... i'm confused, Dom. Wha' do i mean to you?.."

Wide, pleading eyes showed her confusion. She was showing weakness to him, right now, in this moment. She had never shown him this side of her, this side so wanting to make people happy, to be cared about. She had always been poised and strong.

Every time they spoke, he showed her in other ways that he cared. His voice, it always caught in his throat, but he would give her this hard look to silence her worries. Right now, though, that stupid half-blood had her nervous!

"I'm sorry, Dominic. I shouldnae be asking these things of you... If it wasnae for tha' idiot half-blood ginger, i wouldnae be so... so... flustered." She sighed, lowering her eyes again, her arms crossing and hands rubbing up and down to try and keep back the cold while calming her nerves.