Forms Of Decrepit Brilliance [Theo]

[mathilde manon poole]

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April 13th, 2029

Her whole face stung. Several of her teeth were missing, lost in the grass at the bottom of the Quidditch pitch, and blood smeared everything from her nose down. That had finally stopped, plugged up and fixed in an instant by one of the nurses. It didn't change the fact that she looked like she was a vampire that had just feasted on a live target for the first time. The entire front of her practice uniform was splattered in red, the looks of horror from other students as she had waltzed into the Hospital Wing well worth it. One first year looking kid even started to make guttural noises like he was about to throw up. The nurse in question was amazed she was still standing, considering the massive blood loss that seemed to be going on. Tilly had adrenaline to thank for keeping herself standing.

She had never felt so alive before.

The accident itself had occurred because Tilly decided today was the day she was going to attempt to be a Beater. By using her face. Head butting a bludger was not only insane, but also incredibly hard to do while staying conscious. Somehow, she'd managed to do both and only fly away with missing teeth and a broken nose. Plus an incredibly concerned group of teammates. It was only practice and she was risking life and limb. She thought it was metal as hell.

"Tho how long do you think this will take?" she asked the nurse, noticing that without her too front teeth, she couldn't pronounce her 's' sounds anymore. She got a non-committed answer about how it was technically bone regrowth, since she hadn't brought her snapped off teeth with her. They were probably stuck to the bludger she tried to eat. "I thtill have practith to go back to," she added, kicking her feet back and forth on the bed she was seated at, all while the nurse continued to inspect her nose and mouth.

Theodore Marcus Flint ● 333

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[Theodore Marcus Flint]

a fine young galahad.

NEWS TRICKLED INTO THE MAINSTREAM LIKE sweetened treacle for Theo's ears. A whispering here, an elbow there, tutting from professors and a book aimed at a head in the library. It hadn't even been two hours by the time Theo learned the truth over a spilled inkwell. "What?!" He'd erupted, trap flapping and body almost leaping over the old oak table. He'd barely missed the book that came shooting at his head from the front of the library, carrying a hissed 'shush!' between its pages.

He'd been elbow deep in his treacherous Potions homework, pretending to study for his O.W.L's when word of Tilly Poole's epic spill made its way into his stratosphere. "How much blood...?!" Theo had asked, leaning up on his elbows and foaming at the mouth as he panted at the Puff muggleborn first year, Gilbert Godfrey. Who had delivered the news like a terrible secret, leaning over the table and whispering into the lamplight.

Theo's books were slammed closed and stuffed away quick as a shot into his leather satchel, asking his seatmate to 'pretty, perfect please' carry his things back to the Slytherin common room. He hadn't the care to double check if his request would be fulfilled, slapping Godfrey on his pudgy little shoulder and sprinting out of the library before another book game flying at him for his mannerless interruptions.

It wasn't a terribly long trek to the infirmary, but Theo swore it took him an age as he skidded past an unimpressed professor - yelping his sincerest apologies with praying hands - and avoiding two separate friends who tried to stop him to tell Theo what he already knew. Tilly Poole had made an absolute fool of herself on the pitch, and she'd been carried out delirious just about an hour ago. At practice, Theo had thought with a sizzling excitement. What kind of bumbling fool managed to fell themselves at a friendly scrimmage? Well, lots of people, but Theo preferred it when he was thinking of how foolish Tilly had been.

The Puff girl was as talented as she was bloody fit, and Theo had spent much of his fifth year rolling his eyes at his mates who appeared moon-eyed at the Quidditch playing wonder girl. Salazar, it was tedious. He was a bloody good beater himself, but nobody was twisting their pants up about him on a broom, far as he knew. A fair bit breathless, and flushed in the face, Theo slowed to a very reasonable jog as he turned into the hallway outside of the infirmary.

There was a bit of a crowd gathered, students all pretending they weren't waiting for the big reveal of Tilly Poole's mashed up face, being spoken to by a healer with stern tones of reprimand. Theo tried to look casual as he strolled up to the doorway, straightening his robes and smoothing back a handful of unruly brown hair. "I've an owl from..." He mumbled something unintelligible under his breath before he slipped behind the large infirmary door and left the crowd standing like cowards. When the door slipped shut behind him, Theo whirled around and eyed the room of beds hungrily. All empty bar one, red all over and a pale bloodless face.

"Oh, UGH!" Theo exclaimed in gleeful disgust as he crossed the room in four large steps. Tilly Poole was sitting upright on a gurney, her legs swinging merrily and her Quidditch unform, typically yellow, was dyed an awful red and brown. It looked as if she'd been lashed at the post, or something. Theo vibrated with excitement, barely noticing the healer crouched down beside Tilly until she was up and in his face, her expression livid.

"Excuse me, young man!" She squawked, and Theo reared back contritely and defensively out of her meaty reach. "This is not a carnival act, this is the infirmary!" Theo waved his hands in surrender and made as if to shuffled around in the front of his robes. "I've- I've been sent by the headmistress with an owl- a letter from home." Theo pulled out a roll of parchment and held it aloft like a handful of gold. "She said it was... terribly important." Theo dropped his chin and opened his eyes big and large, just like a timid house elf might do, leaning in close to whisper quietly at the healer "I do apologise for my manners... I... I'm afraid I think someone might have died." Theo motioned at the parchment in his hands and shrugged with a sad little frown.

The healer seemed to relax immediately in the company of contrition, turning her head to give Tilly a questing and sympathetic stare. Ruined her pretty face, and lost a nana all in one day, huh. Coincidentally, while her back was turned, Theo lifted his head sharply and wagged his tongue at Tilly, miming a retching gag as he pointed at his own face and hers with its gaping black maw where all her front teeth used to be.

When the healer turned back around, Theo quickly dipped his chin again and made as if to rub his eyes. "You've ten minutes, do not disturb my patient!" And with a flap of her skirts, she moved past Theo and back toward the doors with one backward glance at Tilly and Theo. Probably off to assist her colleague with the beheading of Tilly's new fans. Theo could barely stand to wait before he was hopping on the balls of his feet like a dog on a short leash. 

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The din from the hallway outside of the Hospital Wing was only noticeable once the door cracked open and a person slipped inside. ’Probably another poor sod that managed to slip on the third step up at the front entrance,’ she thought, laughing to herself as she picked at some of the dried blood that caked her hands. If her nose hadn’t already been fixed, the snort she let out would have added to her newly red robes. She was basically a Gryffindor by proxy now. It wasn’t until the nurse looked up from inspecting the teeth again that Tilly followed the gaze. The lanky, freckled form of Theo Flint had pushed his way inside and was stomping over towards her. He still didn’t look like he fit properly into his shoes.

The nurse immediately started to chastise him, causing Tilly to cover her face with her blood-soaked hand. Why did she have to get the old bat today? It was always like this whenever she had a Quidditch related injury. She much preferred Miss Garnett, but figured that because the other woman was for LIFE and this hag handled all of MAGIC. Age equated experience, but definitely not bedside manner.

She could see right through Theo’s charade; no one in her family had actually died. If they had, why would they have sent him of all people? Whether or not the nurse did as well, she could find out after the ten minutes the two of them had been allotted. She hid her giggle at the face he was making as the wretched old witch sauntered off to her office. Those ten minutes were going to be precise.

”Tho who died?” she whispered, still trying to play along until she heard the office door slam shut. That was her signal that she could talk louder. Or at least try, with her missing teeth. ”How’th my fath look? I thought Lyka wath going to path out,” Tilly laughed. The older girl still hung around the team despite being a subpar flier. At best, she was a glorified equipment manager. ”Thuppothedly theeth are going to grow back overnight,” she added, doing her best grin. She could feel her breath whistle right through the open gap. It tickled the exposed nerve endings where the enamel had snapped off. ”Tho…why’d you ruth here Theo? Wanted to thee my fath methed up?”

Theodore Marcus Flint ● 398

MADE BY VEL OF GS + ADOX 2.0

[Theodore Marcus Flint]

a fine young galahad.

THE DOOR HAD BARELY NESTLED ITSELF BACK into its frame when Theo leaped across the room. Free of the dictator of a healer, he was free to get a much closer look at Tilly's mashed up face. It looked even worse up close. Her nose a mess of crusty old blood, her lip so swollen it looked like the beak of a big, meaty duck. Theo didn't sit, placing himself right in front of Tilly and stooping down until they were almost nose to nose.

"Oh- that is disgusting." He whispered in quiet awe. His large brown eyes round with shock and apt fascination. He'd gotten so close to her mushy, toothless mouth he looked cross-eye. His mouth hanging open in a giddy grin. "Huh?" Registering that that messed up mouth was actually talking, Theo reared back to get a proper look at her whole face. The 'owl' was still clutched in his palm, and he looked down at it as Tilly did. He gave a happy little laugh and turned, hopping up onto the gurney beside her and unrolling it easily.

"It's a drawing of a topless mountain troll with a massive pair of tits." Theo cackled openly, holding up the scroll to show Tilly the illustration. "Peter Copland sends them to me in HoM, it's a right laugh." He kept snickering, far too satisfied with himself as he let the parchment curl in on itself and tucked it back into the front of his robes, giving it a happy little tap as he did.

"You've never looked better," Theo declared, bending his head a bit to get another good look at her face. Every time she spoke she spit a bit, which was so gross he flinched around her newly acquired speech impediment. "Do you think they'll grow back straight this time?" Theo teased, quirking his brows and smirking at her. He lifted a hand, carefully poking at one of her cheeks. "Open your mouth, let me see properly!" He pleaded, so morbidly curious. It all made him feel a bit queasy, but it was strangely enjoyable.

"That fat-faced first year Gilly Godfrey said you nearly died." He snorted leaning up from where he sat to peer down into Tilly's mouth like a very unqualified dentist. He pawed at her chin with very gentle and unwelcome hands, wishing to move her face this way and that to get properly investigate. "Had to come and see for myself," He mused guiltlessly. "Obviously, since you're the next best thing to Quidditch since the Chudley Canons were sold." He said with the kind of mocking only envy could employ. But his eyes still glinted with that same mischief that had propelled him all the way from the library. 

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Being called gross and abhorrent in her current state was a compliment to Tilly. She continued to have a toothless grin plastered on her face as Theo crossed the room. It took everything from her not to run her fingers along the jagged edges, only because that actually hurt when she did it. Self-induced jaw pain was not what she was going for right now. The throb that came from that part was agonizing. She’d take blood, broken bones, and almost anything else over the sharp cranial pain that was introduced with the snapped off teeth. The silver lining to right now though was that the nurse had filled her to the brim with a pain-relief potion. It did little in the way of fully nullifying everything, ‘it would make her reflect on her actions more’ if she felt it just a little bit still, according to the bossy healer. Tilly agreed. The pain made her feel more alive.

Theo got closer for an inspection, and she had half the mind to tell him he could give the gap a good feel with his finger if he wanted to. It wasn’t every day someone ended up losing this many teeth. He did eventually join her on her bed and revealed her supposed ‘owl’. A grotesque pin-up of sorts of a half-nude mountain troll. She thought that was sort of redundant, as weren’t most mountain trolls naked all the time? ”Did he draw thith himthelf?” she asked, half grabbing at the corner to stabilize the paper as Theo laughed. ”He’th clearly never theen the real thing.” Or maybe mountain trolls were just built this way. She hadn’t the foggiest. Usually she slept during History of Magic.

Another inspection of her face was being conducted, and she proudly put her face on display. ”Hope tho. Mum wanted me to get brathes years ago. Thith works way better,” Tilly slurred as she opened her mouth more for her friend to look inside. Everything about this situation was hilarious to her. There would probably be a letter home to her parents. That always happened whenever there was a big enough injury. Strangely, they never had any issues with that. They had quickly understood that magical healing was far superior to anything they could provide. Not to mention that their worries about her well-being weren’t always their top priority. If her older siblings had anything of importance going on this week in their lives, any owl sent by Hogwarts wouldn’t get read for at least a week.

”Who’th he?” Tilly questioned at the mention of some unknown first year. ”Becauth I walked mythelf up here, thank you very much. Thurprised no one thtarted a rumor that I murdered thomeone yet. There’th a lot of blood on me…” She proudly extended out the front of her robes so Theo could get a better look at them again. There was no missing the crimson spill. She’d tried to do her best to plug her nose while running up to the school, but there was only so much she could do while she was bleeding out of both nostrils and various parts of her mouth. ”I can thow him what almotht dying ith…” she added quietly, cracking her knuckles loudly in a joking manner.

Theodore Marcus Flint ● 546

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[Theodore Marcus Flint]

a fine young galahad.

THE DRAWING WAS PART OF A COLLECTION THAT Theo shared with his dorm-mate Scottie, and his twin Sammy. They were starting a rag mag, and Peter Copland happened to be their best illustrator. He had a real eye for the tit-to-areola ratio. Or so Scottie said, he deemed himself most qualified to decide. Tilly was far more interested than Theo anticipated, used to the typical 'girl' reaction of shying and gagging. Instead, her bloody fingers snatched at the corner and he was a bit taken aback, his grin turning in to surprise. "'Course he did," He tucked the parchment away with a shrug. "It's an absolute original piece, it doesn't have to be accurate."

Shifting on the gurney, Theo braced one knee on the bed and managed to get a good angle to peer right down into Tilly's mangled mouth. She was very accommodating, letting him move her chin this way and that. He almost gave into temptation and reached his finger inside, but the gummy view put him off just a bit when she moved her jaw. "What's a 'brathes'?" Theo mocked with his tongue between his teeth. He hadn't heard of such a thing before.

"Nobody," Theo shrugged, dismissing Giddy's entire existence with a simply lift of his shoulders. He wasn't particularly notable, though. A chubby faced first year with a big flappy mouth, the most interesting thing about him were the stories he carried. Theo leaned back on his knee a bit when Tilly started ranting, mostly to avoid the arches of bloody spittle, wiping his fingers on his robes discreetly as he snorted. "That can be arranged, Poole." Theo teased, quirking his brows. "One good word to Giddy, and you'll be the biggest killer since Elaine Dupree." He widened his eyes for emphasis.

Theo stooped down to get a good look at Tilly's darkened robes, grabbing at the stiff material and watching as rusty flakes formed and fell away where the blood had begun to dry. "Massacre..." He muttered in quiet awe, fascinated by the mess of it all. She really had done a number on herself, and Theo's stomach only flipped once or twice at the thought. "Give it to me." He told her suddenly, smirking as she cracked her knuckles. "I'll show it around the halls at supper time," He conspired gleefully. "I'll shove it right in Giddy's face." Theo crowed, thinking of the theatrics it would cause if he came in with Tilly's bloodied clothes like some kind of gruesome trophy. "Five sickles says he pukes!" 

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’Wouldn’t it be better if it was, though?’ Was the single thought that went through her head as her eyes lingered on the drawing of the mountain troll before Theo managed to stash it away again. Wouldn’t they rather see the real thing, instead of imagining what a troll would look like? She didn’t really care what boys did or didn’t do. They were pigheaded, brash, and immature. So was she. Hell, she was maybe even worse than most in her year.

Very few fifth years would be happy about having the whole front of their mouth knocked out, nose bloodied, robes destroyed, and then had a crudely drawn mountain troll’s tits shoved in their face. She doubted the majority could even get past the first part without shedding a couple pints worth of tears. Technically, Tilly had cried. Not because she was scared of everything that happened or in severe pain. She was, but because it was impossible not to when your nose was broken sideways and both it and her mouth were full of blood. Choking on her own life source would have been a hell of a way to go. Heroic, even.

”Brathes,” she repeated. Clearly Theo didn’t speak toothless as well as he was making it seem. Tilly pointed from one of her few teeth left to the adjoining one, hoping he would understand her mimicry of the metal wire of braces. Maybe purebloods didn’t use them as much? Magic could fix out the crookedness with the wave of a wand, after all.

The imminent death of some first year she didn’t know on a whim of hers, while intriguing, would muddle up the rest of her life. No one would truly care if one of them died again, would they? So gullible and full of excitement…she really hated that there was a clear separation between the MAGIC and LIFE students now. Being at the apex, and therefore the rulers, put a lot of pressure on her. She also detested their squeaky voices. Always questioning, always shrieking.

Tilly didn’t continue with that thought any further though, instead watching Theo take hold of her crimson robes. Her eyes raised as he requested her robes to flaunt in front of the entire school. ”You’re thick,” she said in awe, before peeling the black and yellow practice robe off over her head and rolled it up into his hands. She hadn’t noticed that her blood had leaked through the collar of the robes and completely stained her white undershirt as well. If anything, that looked worse than her sleeves did, when she’d tried to plug her nose with them. ”I can give you thith if you find me a clean one,” she offered the undershirt as well. That honestly made it look like she’d spent all afternoon feeding like a vampire.

Theodore Marcus Flint ● 472

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[Theodore Marcus Flint]

a fine young galahad.

BLINKING IN CONFUSION, THEO WONDERED IF Tilly was speaking a different language as she repeated that strange, garbled word with her broken mouth again. He shook his head plainly, thinking he'd ask her when she had a couple more teeth in her head. It couldn't be that important anyways, since it was obviously muggle-related, seeing as Tilly's parents were both of the sort. It made whatever they had once suggested obviously obsolete in his eyes. Magic could fix just about anything.

"I am n-" Theo just about exclaimed, defending his intellect with a sharp tone, but he was stopped short at the sight of Tilly pulling at her bloodied robes. Was she about to take off her top? He thought dumbly, shifting back on the gurney to stare with a slightly opened mouth. Then the dots all connected, and he stopped choking on his tongue for just a second. She meant 'sick', but definitely complimentary. Eager to take part in his morbid little ploy. He clapped his hands in encouragement, but flinched and looked over at the doorway when he heard a cough somewhere outside.

"Quick about it then," He said, gathering up the robes and making a point of rubbing the front all over his own to try and transfer some of the gore. He cared about his appearance, most certainly, but it was all about the chaos in the end. He hopped from the bed, letting the robes drop momentarily as he turned and scanned the room for something Tilly could wear instead. "Uh..." Theo tapped his chin, before suddenly tugging at the front of his school robes. Underneath, his white shirt was starched and smelled of that fancy 'sandalwood' and 'battered leather' cologne all the LIFE boys were suddenly wearing. Theo had had to filch two weeks worth of gold from Great Aunt Octavia's coffers just to get a bottle.

Theo tugged his tie free, and unbuttoned his shirt, slinging it at Tilly's broken face. "Stop looking at my ripped abs, Poole, and take your shirt off." He wagged his brows at her, tongue sticking out between his teeth as he slung his robes back around his shoulders. He'd left his tie around his bare neck, which made him look like some kind of underfed buff butler, but he didn't mind so much. He was more fascinated by the absolutely disgusting splotch of red on Tilly's undershirt. "You look like a very terrible vampire," He shook his head in morbid awe. "It's a bit fit, actually."

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It was becoming increasingly clear that Theo either had no idea what she was trying to say, or that he didn’t even know what braces were to begin with. That seemed to be typical of fully magical kids in her experience. The other muggleborns understood her well enough on a lot of things though. Thank God they were all finally starting to get a better grip on how phones and laptops worked too. A few years earlier, she felt like she spent more time trying to show her classmates how phones worked than she did her own work.

She really didn’t care whether or not Theo knew what braces were. If it came up again later, once her teeth were fully fixed, then she’d explain them all in better detail. Maybe he’d actually find it interesting that muggles straightened their teeth out with metal wires. She sort of did. Forcibly moving teeth was pretty awesome. Which was also why she didn’t care that much about her missing ones right now.

What was more important was getting her bloody clothes off. The robe alone would have been fine with her, but if she wanted to go for shock value, Theo was going to need the whole package. ”Yeth!” she exclaimed when he seemingly came to the conclusion that he could just give her his shirt. Theo pulled it off in a flurry of shuffling, and for a brief moment through her bloodied and crusted nostrils, she thought she got a whiff of the horrid cologne all of the boys in her year had started to wear. It smelled exactly like what the house elves used to clean the quidditch locker rooms with after they were used.

”You don’t haf any,” Tilly observed, before unbuttoning her blood-soaked shirt off. There was a bit that had leaked even under her collar, a smear caked along her neckline and slightly down the front of her chest. She was starting to realize that she was going to be spending a lot of time cleaning herself off later, between the various droplets she was now finding and her stained hands. ”Are you thaying you find me fit? Or that I’d be a good fampire.” She was now realizing that v’s were out of the question too, without her teeth. Handing over her shirt to Theo, she didn’t feel as exposed as she thought she would. Theo was Theo, and he only had his tie and robes. ”Gife,” she motioned with her hand for his shirt in return.

Theodore Marcus Flint ● 421

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[Theodore Marcus Flint]

a fine young galahad.

PULLING OFF HIS CLOTHES IN A FLURRY OF motion, Theo was a ball of restless energy. Plus, he was acutely aware that if that cranky old School Healer decided to waltz back in, she'd catch him with his tits out. It was decidedly not an ideal scenario to put himself in. Add in the insult of Tilly's slurry reply, and Theo had almost lost his cool. Almost.

"Alright, titless." Theo fired back with a defensive little tilt of his chin. So what if he wasn't 'bulking up' six ways 'til Sunday like Scottie was. He was tall and thin enough that if he flexed the right way, it almost looked like an ab. At least, he thought maybe, in the right light. He tossed his shirt at Tilly's face, hitting her right around her gummy mouth. It was an expensive shirt, as well. Octavia was an old tart most of the time, but she wouldn't see a Flint in anything but the best. Of course, it was up to somebody else to buy it all, since she never left her nest.

Shucking his robes back on, he buttoned them right up to hide his bare chest, but it looked a little off. Theo just had to make it look legitimate enough to get him out of the Infirmary and to the Great Hall. Which, as far as he was concerned, was entirely doable. "I mean, what kind of vampire doesn't have any teeth?" Theo smirked knowingly, bounding back across the room and taking his place back on the gurney beside her. He gathered up the bloodied clothes as he did.

"What should I say first?" He asked thoughtfully, rubbing his thumb over a sticky patch of blood and wondering if that was a tooth shard stuck on the collar of her pink and red stained undershirt. "Should I scream 'she's dead', or maybe 'she killed them'?" He made an attempt at a sobbing cry, throwing his head back until his Adam's apple popped and bobbed with every gasping breath. "'She killed them!', 'She's killed them all!'" He hissed, careful to practice with his inside voice. Theo's head rocked forward and he flashed a toothy grin at Tilly. 

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”Thee that?” Tilly pointed up and behind his head following his comment about her chest, ”There goeth you chanth at efer theeing them.” She was met with an oversized shirt in her face. Now that it was up close and personal, even her previously broken and smashed nose could smell it a bit. She hadn’t been wrong that it was the usual perfume they were all obsessed with. ”Thith thmells awful. Pleath thtop wearing it,” she gave him a look of disgust as she plucked it from her face. Sliding her arms into the oversized sleeves, she very quickly realized how small it made her feel. She was, by most means, slightly above average height. But the long school shirt of the twig-like and still growing Theo was a force to be reckoned with. Tilly had to peel back both sleeves in order to find the front ends of the shirt, and they continuously got in the way of her buttoning. She could already tell that the second she stood up, it was going to be wearing her more than she was wearing it.

As she carefully pried buttons through their respective holes, she bared her empty grin at him. ”One that doeth’nt thuck.” A bad joke, really. She needed those right now, because they did keep the slight pain of her throbbing gums away a bit. When she finally reached the top button, it felt like she could bend over at the waist and the whole shirt could fall off of her. So much for trying to make it inconspicuous. That was going to take some explaining to the nurse, especially now that Theo was taking her robes with him.

”Hmmm…” she hummed while trying to think of the different options he had posed. Those were both pretty good. ”Thay that half my fath ith thmathed in. That I might die,” Tilly offered up. ”That way, the houth elfes will thend ithe cream up.” She could already imagine how great gnawing on a bowl of ice cream would feel right now. Her gums face deserved it after taking a bludger today. ”Unleth you think thaying I killed thomeone ith better,” she shrugged in her now oversized shirt.

Theodore Marcus Flint ● 368

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[Theodore Marcus Flint]

a fine young galahad.

TURNING HIS HEAD SLIGHTLY, THEO PARKED A hand against his forehead, and pretended to watch his chances fly away into the rafters of the Infirmary. He faked a great big sigh and fired his button down into Tilly's face with a snort. "So I had a chance?" He smirked, shucking his robes back on and buttoning them carefully until they reached right up to his collar, where just the tie was left. He tucked that away too, now that it didn't have a collar to hang on to. His head popped up just in time to see her take a great big whiff of his shirt, frowning slightly as she declared that it stank.

"That cologne cost nearly 10 galleons, you uncultured Lobalug!" Theo declared defensively, though his feelings smarted just a little bit. He made a mental note to give it to Scottie as a gift for his next birthday. The robes buttoned up, Theo had to take a moment to lick his wounds, helped along kindly by the sight of a fit girl wearing his shirt like a dress. She pulled on it, the hem nearly meeting her knees, and he swallowed past the great big frog in his throat and felt his face grow so hot he might have fried an egg on each cheek. He snorted at her terrible vampire joke instead, and rolled his eyes. She wasn't half as fit when she was trying to be funny. 

Loping over, he took his seat back beside her. It was much better when he didn't have to look at her head on, sometimes. His first attempt at abject grief was met with a shrewd and careful stare, Tilly's mind visibly ticking over as she criticised his performance and suggested a few addendums. He nodded his head, tongue in cheek, before he buried his face into her bloodied robes and wailed, using the fabric to muffle the sound. "Oh, her face!" He sobbed openly. "Her beautiful face, it's ruined, it's crushed to a mulchy pulp!"

The sharp, rusty smell of blood meant Theo couldn't bear to keep his face close for too long. Drawing back with a smear along his chin and cheek. He smirked, thinking it was probably best if he seemed like he was mourning the prized Tilly Poole's memorable face. Quidditch star, and death defying, respectfully. "I think you're right." He mused, rubbing the tacky blood from his cheek carelessly, his legs swinging. "It's better if they think you nearly died." The house-elves were terribly generous after a tragedy. "Remember the ice cream they gave us after they rebuilt?" He sighed wistfully. "Every flavour under the ever-loving sun..."

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Tilly shrugged. After the way the boys were passing around hand drawn pictures of troll nudies, maybe it was best to not hold the real thing over one of them. It would still be better than showing either of the Vectors. They'd probably run off to mummy and tell her all about it. She did not need that monster breathing down her neck all because of a quick flash. That was nightmare material right there. She'd much rather deal with a soul-sucking dementor than whatever horrors mummy Vector would unleash on her. Especially as a muggleborn. Surely it wouldn't be pretty. And with that sort of money and power, she could say goodbye to any professional Quidditch prospects.

"And I'm thaying it thmells horrid." Tilly went in for another inhale of the collar, the cologne ripping through her blocked nasal passages. She mimicked a gag for added effect. "You'll thtand out if you don't uthe it,"" she added. It was pretty obvious just by looking at Theo's face that he was getting bashful about handing over his shirt to her. Personally, she didn't see anything embarrassing about it. But boys were boys.

She nodded her head aggressively at the idea of saying her whole face was smashed in. "It'th too bad I lotht the teeth." Not only did she want to keep them for her own personal collection, because she was wrong in the head and as a memory of the day, but the added effect it would have to scatter them across the floor of the Great Hall would be beautiful. She sighed.

"Ithe cream to forget everyone that died. It wath wonderful," she said sarcastically in response. While her interests were definitely edgier than the average fifth year, she also didn't want people croaking for her own enjoyment. That was actually messed up. "You hafe a bit on your fathe," Tilly added, suddenly realizing that during his demonstration, Theo had shoved her bloodied clothes in his face. A bit of dried crusties had managed to stick themselves to his cheek. "Hold thtill," she demanded as she tried to peel it off of him.

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[Theodore Marcus Flint]

a fine young galahad.

TILLY MADE HER FEELINGS ABOUT THE COLOGNE so clear that Theo couldn't help but cringe. It was supposed to be a real 'ladies magnet'. All the posters had fit women absolutely drooling over the guys wearing it. Theo had even heard a NEWT prefect call it a 'panty dropper'. Well, not for Tilly Poole apparently. Who more or less said he smelled like a big bag of Thestral shit. And there he'd been creaming over her wearing his shirt, it fell a bit flat when she kept wrinkling her bloodied nose like that.

"Right, okay!" He huffed with a pink faced wave of his hands. "I'll throw the bloody thing out." He absolutely wouldn't, it had cost him a small fortune. Theo might as well get a good use out of it. "Go eau de natural if it means you'll stop bloody mentioning it." He muttered moodily, but it passed quickly as he wasn't one for dwelling on the little things. This was insider knowledge, he'd give it to Sammy or Scottie the next time they made googly eyes at Tilly from the Quidditch stands. Tell them she thought it smelled hot, or something.

Picking at Tilly's robes, Theo had to shrug in agreement. Losing the teeth was really a jinx to the broom of their ploy. "I mean, I've got some peppermint snaps in my pocket somewhere, I think." He mulled over the idea as he rifled around in his pockets looking for a couple loose sweets. "I could chew 'em up, scatter them around, by the time anybody noticed..." He posed with a probing look at Tilly. As he did, he finally felt the pad of his finger snag on that sharp little bump on the robes. He picked it off carefully and eyed it. It was, he thought, a very smell shard of tooth.

"Here," Theo said, handing it over and thinking it would probably be something Tilly would like to keep. "For your weird little collection." He smirked, wondering if that would get him in with another chance at seeing her topless. He didn't bother asking, letting her mull it over as he thought over his massacre script. Theo didn't even mention the odd glee in Tilly's face as she thought about the ice cream after the rebuild. She had a freaky little brain, Theo thought with a helpless smirk.

His face tacky with the residual blood from his performance, Theo tried to wipe it away fruitlessly. Eventually, Tilly scooted closer and Theo let her. Leaning his face close enough that they were almost nose-to-nose, Theo grinned playfully as she very carefully picked away the crusty blood from his cheek. It was very romantic, he thought, trying to figure out if there was a bit of gold in her eyes as she blinked at him. Then he caught another glimpse of her gummy mouth and he felt his excitement flagging just a little bit. "Suppose we'll have to save the kiss for once your teeth grow back," He whispered as he leaned back very slowly, still smirking like a flirtatious cat. "Shame."

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[mathilde manon poole]

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Success! If she could talk the fifth year boys down one at a time, they'd eventually stop wearing the odorous toxin. There were so many smells that were better than it too, though none came to mind as a comparison that she could tell Theo. If she wasn't careful, he'd probably start dousing himself in formaldehyde because of her interests in the previously living. That would be...something else altogether. "Jutht wear deodorant like a normal perthon," she slurred out through her gaping maw. "Or uthe it in moderathon." With the way it currently was, the smell traveled down entire corridors whilst walking between classes. Truly gag worthy in such high volumes.

As for their own gag, in which she hoped at least a couple dozen first and second years regurgitated their dinners back up onto the floor of the Great Hall, Theo proposed using saliva encrusted peppermint snaps. From a distance, no one would notice the difference between them and teeth! Her face lit up at the idea, a gummy grin appearing. Before she could agree to it, Theo was holding out something for her. "My toof!" Or let of one at least. Tilly carefully plucked it from his hand, making sure not to drop it. Amongst the starched white bed linens of the Hospital Wing, it would disappear again in an instant. The cleaning house elves wouldn't even second guess a stray tooth shard either. "I'll add it to my baby oneth." She still kept a small wooden container of her baby teeth as part of a shrine of sorts. Hidden away in the back corner of her bedroom closet, where her parents would never dare to look. They seemed to think it was a phase, one that happened to last much longer than it normally would. She was fairly certain they were hoping she'd decide to become a mortician, or a forensic pathologist. They didn't understand that she craved the brutality and bloodlust of Quidditch.

The crusted blood flakes off far easier than she thought it would, joining the rest that coated the underside of her nails. She spent a lot of time trying to remove dirt, grime, and other nasty Potions ingredients from under them. Now she had her own bodily fluids to add to that rather long list. "Thee, now you're going in the right order," she hummed while peeling another chunk off of him. "Don't need teef to make out, you know." But she also wasn't going to gum his tongue. Even that seemed weird to her.

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