Quote:
Originally Posted by
Ama 
She stared before blushing. It seemed that blushing was something one did a lot when in the presence of Plymouth Morgans. Odd species of male they were. "It wasn't that I didn't like it," she squeaked, fiddling with her school uniform. Her tie was crooked. Her sweater vest was a bit too short. What was with her school shirt? When did it get so wrinkly?
Daphne frowned at Celandine's antics at first, wondering what she was getting at. What was she doing? Dancing? Why was she dancing in the middle of the corridor? What? Belly ache.
Dancing Belly Ache. Belly Ache Dance. Bel--Oh! "That's really not what I meant," she replied finally raising her hands in a gesture of innocence. "Really. I meant I wasn't keeping track of time."
"I didn't say I didn't like it!" she spluttered, her neck matching the color of her cheeks now. "And what's with all these personal...information...being given out, Celandine!"
She stamped her foot. This was so humiliating. "My likes and dislikes are mine to...to...give out at my own discretion!" She finished shoving her nose in the air, hands on her hips. So there. "And yes, I happen to like eyes and smiles. What of it?"
Daphne pretended the observing of posteriors was never mentioned.
"Hmmm?" Cela made an innocent questioning noise. She was already distracted. She offered a bright smile to Daphne and her arm. It was a come-over-here-and-give-me-a-half-hug sort of thing.
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Mad Eye Touz Plymouth did a full circle with his chin over his shoulder, clearly trying to see what Cela was on about. Like a dog chasing his tail. Hmmm. With a raised eyebrow, he sent Daphne a inquisitive look. Hmmm.
But she was doing that spluttering pink thing. "Daphadil," Plymouth gave her a look. His said her name with a strange lilt at the end, almost like he was questioning her or maybe it was a 'you don't have to freak out' sort of thing. Either way, she got the look. Why DID she freak out with him all the time?? "You don't have to like anything you don't want to. Except me. But you like me plenty, so..."
So.
Plymouth motioned her over to the table after Cela, letting her take the middle spot next to Cela. "Alright, alright. Let's sharpen some wit and bring home the bacon." He rubbed his hands together and bounced on his toes, did a few pre-potion making stretches.
Cela obligingly opened her book on the appropriate page and looked around at the room, which grudgingly adjusted to a more potions-lab-like look.
"Okay. Afterwards we can have snacks!"