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Post by Dare Blackwood-Hardt on Feb 17, 2010 14:33:56 GMT -5
Dare's grin only widened as he looked at her, noting now the soft angles of her face, the smooth sweep of her nose and the innocent tease of her mouth. And she was a massive bookworm. It would be a challenge and a lot of fun trying to capture both in a drawing, not to mention her unusual hair. He wondered how many colors he could use and still have it recognizably silver.
"There's nothing wrong with late-night talks," he declared, setting himself up. "I like them too, it's the ones that last over breakfast that are the most fun." His grin grew crooked with the tease, and his eyes sparked with laughter. It was completely harmless, and more fun than he should have been able to justify to himself.
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Post by Willow Wenlock on Feb 17, 2010 14:43:48 GMT -5
There was a small blush on her cheeks as she looked up, happy that he'd gotten the joke, and somewhat surprised that he'd continued it. Willow couldn't say how happy she was that there was someone else she was enjoying talking to on campus. She hoped that she didn't run into the one boy with funny hair again, or the set of twins, but Silver and this boy were definitely on her list of would gladly talk to repeatedly.
She couldn't let it go, and while she was thinking of a quote she could use, she quickly abandoned it for the tip of the edge biting humor that seemed to be coming out of no where. "I suppose that depends on what's for breakfast," Willow said softly, her lips twitching just a bit.
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Post by Dare Blackwood-Hardt on Feb 17, 2010 15:19:26 GMT -5
Dare couldn't help laughing, an easy rolling sound he quickly stifled, though chuckling remained even as he scanned the horizon for an angry librarian. He grinned widely as he scooted up in his seat, turning his mind toward the next quip. He leaned forward to rest his arms against the table now, and his foot retreated, folding up near his chair as the gleam in his eyes grew. When he spoke, he'd lowered his voice conspiratorially to match hers. "If you're thinking about food, something's not being done right," he teased.
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Post by Willow Wenlock on Feb 17, 2010 15:27:51 GMT -5
Willow had to put her hand underneath her nose, and covering her mouth in order to stifle the half laugh half snort at that. Her face turned a bright shade of red, not from embarrassment, but from the entertainment of it. She had to push at the hair that was rapidly coming loose from it's hasty retainer, what was there to say to that, nothing that she could think of off the top of her head.
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Post by Dare Blackwood-Hardt on Feb 17, 2010 15:38:57 GMT -5
Dare's chuckling rolled on to stifle his own laughter, and he had to check himself more than once to be sure he wasn't disturbing the peace. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gotten a reaction like that. Michael tended to tease him back now, which he loved, but there was something priceless about shocking someone so much that they couldn't breathe for trying not to laugh. It took a while for him to calm down enough to start looking for something else to say, thinking back to her fake dating ad that had started all this. "I guess I could've said pumpkin pasties," he said with a grin.
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Post by Willow Wenlock on Feb 17, 2010 15:43:19 GMT -5
Willow's lips were twitching, "you know that a Suomi publication once said that pasties were 'the most delicious, mouth-watering delicacy in the history of culinary artistry.'." She looked up at the boy, completely straight faced, her hair abandoned to fall into her eyes and frame her face. "And yet every time I hear the word pasties, I can't help but think about the other varieties of pasties."
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Post by Dare Blackwood-Hardt on Feb 17, 2010 15:51:31 GMT -5
Dare had quieted at her little quote, though he'd remained on the edge of his seat waiting for more. At the punch line, he chuckled again. "Then I guess you'd have to be more specific with what you want for breakfast," he shot back. His eyes gleamed with his thoughts, that traditional breakfast wasn't nearly as much fun as the alternative. "Or you could skip breakfast all together and wait for lunch," he added.
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Post by Willow Wenlock on Feb 17, 2010 16:03:21 GMT -5
Willow had to clear her throat to continue, "only if the menu includes jerk chicken." Straight face, she told herself, straight face. Let the joke settle and just leave it at that. For once her books had been left to the side to sit, and she couldn't help but forget them in the midst of entertaining herself like this, and the almost intimate atmosphere that the boy was creating with his quiet words, and close presence. Only a slight lip twitch and a sparkle in her eyes belied her completely serious face.
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Post by Dare Blackwood-Hardt on Feb 17, 2010 20:05:38 GMT -5
Dare sputtered into another bout of chuckling, any attempt at meeting her poker face ruined for the moment. His mind had gone directly down the toilet, far further than it had been before, though he'd never confess to how far. "I think anything I say past that's just going to get me in trouble," he said at last, his lips still spread in a playful grin. "I'd pick on long walks by the lake, but anything that mentions exercise and wetness at the same time is too easy a mark." He gave her a teasing, conspiratorial wink.
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Post by Willow Wenlock on Feb 17, 2010 20:25:38 GMT -5
It would be, she thought, while the majority of her friends weren't ones for blatantly making comments like that, Ravenclaws were known for their wit. Willow smiled as she reached unconsciously for a pencil in her bag, and then slid it into the hair at the back of her head, to try and bolster the failing strength of her hair tie. "True," she said softly, wondering how they had gotten onto this vein of discussion anyways. "I suppose that when I'm not here, I would like to be doing exciting things."
"I've always been intrigued by the muggle films Indiana Jones." She smiled, even thought archeology wasn't that exciting a field for muggles, she imagined that for witches and wizards it was, because there were actual curses to contend with. "I've thought about applying for an internship with Gringotts as a curse-breaker this summer."
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Post by Dare Blackwood-Hardt on Feb 17, 2010 20:41:25 GMT -5
"That'd be sweet," Dare said, accepting the change of conversation. He resumed his previous posture, slumping back into the wooden chair and stretching out one leg beneath the table. "I always thought that'd be awesome to do, but my old school thought magical theory was enough and I'm less than elite with charms. I rock transfiguration, though."
He glanced in the general direction of the librarian's desk, then flipped open his bag, extracting the violent-violet colored pygmy puff he'd gotten in class today. He arched one dark brow at the girl from beneath his fringe then brought out his wand, giving it a series of small, lazy-looking sweeps. The puff stopped rolling and began to morph, purple fading to grey then blooming into yellow as the fur shortened and disappeared, growing sleek and smooth. When he was done, he picked up the banana he'd made, only realizing as he did so that he probably could have chosen a better food item to prove his point. He cleared his throat.
"Um, so, complimentary colors, different texture, whatever, I just can't eat it or I lose my project," he said. He could feel heat stealing up the back of his neck as he set it on the table and set to returning it to its natural form.
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Post by Willow Wenlock on Feb 17, 2010 20:50:28 GMT -5
The little violet pygmy puff made her grin as she remembered the one she had in her own bag. "I dare say that eating it would be a tragedy. Although it is a nice looking banana." She held up a finger as she turned and dug through her own bag, turning it's color to her soft silver hair might have been a bad idea, he kept getting lost. She finally found him, and set the little bugger on the table, a smile curving her face. "I just picked mine up from the Professor. He likes to hide in my hair, I may have lost him earlier."
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Post by Dare Blackwood-Hardt on Feb 17, 2010 21:03:42 GMT -5
"I missed class," Dare explained. "I, uh, ran late this morning. Had to catch breakfast on the run, this guy was looking pretty good for a while." He might have gotten distracted with Michael, but it was all true. He got his pygmy puff back to its fluffy violet self and gave it a light prod with the tip of his wand. A cheerful hum rose up from the fur in response. "I think it likes being transfigured. Hey, can you tell yours is a guy, or are you just guessing. Cause I've got no clue." There didn't seem to be an up or a down to something that rolled at will.
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Post by Willow Wenlock on Feb 17, 2010 21:08:10 GMT -5
"No idea. Just guessing, besides, male pets bond better with female masters and vice versa, so it could just be the optimist in me." She scrunched her face up as she lightly touched the puff, causing it to let out a noise and go rolling, "course I'll hate to see it go, when the assignment is over. What do you think she'll do with them." She wondered if they would be new amusing toys for the kids in the picture frame on the teachers desk.
A soft flick of her wand and her puff turned into a small hackey-sack with blinking eyes. She always hated to turn them into something without a soul, and so she almost always intentionally left eyes on things she transfigured, plus it seemed to creep a lot of people out. She grinned to herself at that as she watched the hackey-sack keep rolling.
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Post by Dare Blackwood-Hardt on Feb 17, 2010 23:08:27 GMT -5
Dare looked at the silvery puff as he picked his own up, letting it roll up his arm and across the back of his shoulders. "She'll probably return them to the pet store," he said. "She might let you keep it if you want. If not, I could ask the shopkeeper to hold onto the silver one for you." No trouble at all, he thought, amused with himself.
He switched his wand over to his other hand and caught the puff as it rolled into his newly-emptied palm. "I think I'll call him Brick," he mused. He gave his wand a casual wave and deep red pooled over its fur, turning it brick red. He gave it another wave and white stripes blossomed, giving it the appearance of a warped, round pile of tiny bricks.
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