Oh here he comes!
Sarah moved back slightly so she wouldn't get hit as Ryder came sliding out her end of the shoot.She grinned when he took her hand in his.Hmmm where to go?
After a minute thinking,she looked back up at him, "How about the Small Cliff? I haven't seen the view of the lake from there yet."

Karma toppled out of the slide, accompanied with Torin on top of her. She kicked and flailed all the way down, and landed on her stomach on the ground. HER HAIR WAS MESSED UP.

Turning to look at Torin, she gave him THE LOOK. "You." Propping herself up on her elbows, and blowing a strand of hair from her face, she narrowed one eye. "You, my friend, are dead."

Awww, the ride was over. And Karma was pushing him off of her. And gasp, she looked angry with him!

"Aww, Karmaluff, you aren't going to kill me. I'm sorry. I just thought that this would be a good way to warm up. It's like hugging... On a slope." He smiled, but it was hard when he wanted so hard to laugh.

He was tempted to give her a hug, but thought better than that.

"Let's put it this way," she said. "If you ever use me as a Karmaboggan" o___O "again, you will not see your next birthday."

Not in human form, at least. She'd soooo show him. At least it wasn't snowing or anything outside right now, just rain. Which could be worse. She giggled at his comment about hugging on a slope. Interesting logic.

"You're weird."

He gasped. "But my birthday's at the end of May!" that meant that he wouldn't live to see the end of the school year. He wouldn't reach 15. ... Wait, what? "Karmaboggan? I like that."

"Why does everyone keep saying that?" he whined.

She was screaming at the top of lungs not in fear but of the feeling of flying in total darkness. The wind was whipping her hair around her face. She was twisting around in that tube like a marble thrown down a drain pipe. And she was moving, going faster and faster.

She saw light and it was coming up fast. She closed her eyes and braced for impact. She shot the end of that shoot and flew through the air. She looked down to see how high she was flying and she whooped.

She landed with a few bounces and giggles. "That was fun," she breathed as she looked back at the slid. Yep she was going to do that again.

His eyes were watered as he yelled in joy alongside Willie as the shot down the slide. They were going much faster than the average student; due to the fact that the butter and oil was increasing their face by a tenfold.

Then the Aussie saw the end, and his eyes grew to the size of tennis balls.

WAAAAAAAAAAAAOOOOOOOOOOSHHHH!!

“MAAAAY-DAAAAAAY!!!”, Cyrus screamed as he rocketed through the cool air, slowly tilted backwards. He flew well past the cushioning charm and with a crushing thud, he landed scare on his back.

He squirmed on the ground in agony, yelling at the top of his lungs. One of the worst pains he’d ever felt. BUT IT WAS SO WORTH IT.

His mouth was flapping, he could swear it was from how fast they were going. His eyes watered and tears of joy ran down his cheeks. This was glorious. This was every maniac's dream! He held onto Cy tightly, afraid the boy would slide faster than him and leave him behind.

And then his saw the end, his eyes widened instantaneously as large as indigo eggplants.

WOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSHHHHH!

"TIIIIIIMBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBEEEEERRR!" Willie screamed at the same time Cy screamed, making both their screams unclear to the people around them. Flying alongside his new friend, Willie somehow passed him a little bit and fell right on his bottom.

"YYYYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH" He yelled in pain, his forehead leaning onto the ground as his hands clasped his bottom. This was much worse than Garret pitting him. "Me bottom is BROKEN!"

The Aussie was rolling on the ground in agony still, brushing his back on the ground as if he’d been stung by a million ants. “AAAAAAAHHHHHH.” His voice echoed around the grounds as he looked up to where Willie was.

He didn’t land so well either.

Using his ting little arms, Cy slide himself thought the grass (the butter/oil remeing made this rather easy) towards the second year. “SO MUCH FOR YAH’ BUM!” He said shrilly, “I cracked me’ spine in two. TWO. It’s a—ouch, bloody, OUCH…. Riot I tell yah.” Everyone move he made caused a sharp pain in his back.

And the Quidditch match was just around the corner. Uh-oh.

“Whoever didn’t pad this down is walking the plank mate. WALKING THAH PLANK.” Random thoughts came to mind as he layed back down across the grass. “We need a parrot.” Yes, random was an understatement.

Willie rubbed his bum some more, hoping that applying pressure to it might ease the pain. Sadly, it didn't. Groaning, he buried his face into the grass and began to mutter evil words of how he will cause death to this slide. If a slide can die.

Maybe he could use a charm or something.

Or just kick it. Repeatedly.


He soon heard the little first year whining somewhat a few feet away from him. And then he was a few inches. He must've dragged himself beside to be beside Willie.

"AYYYYE. 'E be walkiiin' the plank and we be laughin' our bottoms thinthe da fool don't know what 'e got 'imthelf into, EH?" Willie groaned, rubbing his bum some more. Boy, did it hurt! And it hurt a lot!

"OII. OII. 'Ow we be walkin' now? Me bum is broken, I tellth ya! BROKEN! 'ow am I be walkin' now?!"

There was an unpleasant feeling on her bottom, almost like she was sliding around on something slick. From behind her hands that still covered her face, Daphne grimaced unpleasantly.

Having slowed down, she removed her hands to crane her neck, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever was on the slide, making her highly uncomfortable. "I think I don't like slides," she commented wheezily to Plymouth in case his other idea for their date involved more slide riding. His arms were so tightly around her stomach it was a little difficult to breathe, for more reasons than the pressure against her diaphragm. "You're squeezing me, sweetie." EEEEEP. BOTTOM.

Remembering what Plymouth had told her, she lifted her legs ready to plant them on the ground except--they had slowed down to a stop just as they reached the bottom. Ha. That was interesting. Hopping off, she turned around to talk to Plymouth but a strange boy was...touching his bottom and crying. "Uh," she muttered raising a delicate whilst making a disturbed and horrified face.

No. Not Garret Crocker's feral brother. Please, Merlin. Not on her date! She then felt something dripping down her thigh, reaching behind her she ran her hand along her skin. Greasy, she pressed it against her fingers before bringing them up to her nose cautiously. "Butter? There's butter on my--" HER DRESS! clutching the back end of her dress, Miss Hopton let out a horrified wail.

Someone. Was. Going. To. Die.

She just needed to decide who was going first.

Plymouth sat at the end of the slide, looking pale and clammy. He watched golden butter splat the ground from the hem of Daphne's dress.... then he watched her REALIZE that her dressed was ruined.


Horror. It was all just horror.


He needed another Ravenclaw moment to clean her dress, right? Plymouth would THINK OF SOMETHING. Or, maybe, sew her a dress out of leaves real quick. Maybe... Bunz would let her borrow something?


Plymouth got up slowly and approached Daphne. He put an arm around her shoulder and gave her a little squeeze. "I usually only butter up the pretty Professors, but I suppose I buttered you up a little?"

".... hehe?" Oh Plymouth's hehe was so weak. Squeaky, even. He squeezed her shoulders again.

Daphne wasn't listening to Plymouth and instead was wondering why she didn't bring her wand with her! What kind of idiotic witch didn't carry her wand at all times?! Letting out another frustrated cry, she held her head, shutting her eyes. This wasn't a time to panic.

Hoptons. Did. Not. Panic.

Except, that she completely was panicking. "Don't!" was her only warning word when he draped his arm around her shoulders. It was hard to breathe at the moment. She needed all the space she could acquire if she didn't want to have a nervous breakdown. "Your wand. Use a scouring charm. Scourgify. Tergeo. Either. Both together. I personally really do not care at the moment."

At least they had made it down the chute alive. Bright side. Bright side.

Willie continued to wail about his bum and cursing whoever didn't cushion the grounds well enough. His wails however stopped once he heard a cr coming from a girl. Raising his head, he blinked at the figure only finnding that it was Daphne Hopton. That fussy girl who Willie though was too prissy for his likings. Frowning, he wondered what she had been crying about. "OIIIIII," he had holllered, still holding onto his bum. "MIITHHHHH PRITHHHH WHATCHUU WAILING 'BOUUTT!?"

Plymouth pulled his arm back slowly. Daphne kind of had that.... potential tear... look. And that was SCARY. He'd totally missed young Mr. Crocker, who clearly was having problems of his own. Plymouth FROWNED at him as he started digging out his wand.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Feral Crocker

Willie continued to wail about his bum and cursing whoever didn't cushion the grounds well enough. His wails however stopped once he heard a cr coming from a girl. Raising his head, he blinked at the figure only finnding that it was Daphne Hopton. That fussy girl who Willie though was too prissy for his likings. Frowning, he wondered what she had been crying about. "OIIIIII," he had holllered, still holding onto his bum. "MIITHHHHH PRITHHHH WHATCHUU WAILING 'BOUUTT!?"

"Ah ah ah," Plymouth held up a hand to stop Willie from coming even a hair's width closer. "Stay. You stay. Sit." Plymouth gave Mr. Crocker a VERY SERIOUS LOOK. He meant it. Crocker kid had better SIT until he could avert the buttery dress crisis.

Hm. Tricky. "Daphadil? Um... is it... proper? Can I put wand... on your dress?" Errrrr... Plymouth was thinking about propriety!!

"None of your business, Crocker's Misfortune," she declared in an otherwise joyous voice; a sign that Daphne Hopton's patience was wearing thin. "You tend to your posterior, now. Good boy."

Feral Child.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake, Plymouth Morgan!" exclaimed Daphne with red cheeks. "What are you talking about? I'm covered in butter and...I don't know what else. I stopped thinking what was proper as soon as I got on that slide with you."

If he wasn't going to do it she'd snatch his wand and do it herself!

GRIN!


"As you wish, Daphadil." Plymouth moved back in close to her, all the while casting a wary eye at Willie. If that kid BIT ... either of them ... well it'd be a swirly for sure.

What was it with those younger PUFFIESs anyway? Upstead? Tipps? CROCKER?


Plymouth squatted down so that he could see the stains at eye level. He put one knee on the ground and then got to work. "Tergeo... Tergeo... Tergeo!!!!"

Plymouth put his wand to each little oily blotch and siphoned off the butter. Oh how his mum would be proud of his stain-removing skills. He'd practiced on the hobos under the bridge a few times, so he had some cleaning skills.

He tapped her hip with his wand from his squatted position, wanting her to turn around and check out his work, "Better, Daph?"

Willie had managed to bring himself up, although he wasn't standing up straight per say. He was squatting as if he was about to go. And by that, it really looked like he was going to poop his pants. He stared at the pretty boy, also known as Plymouth Morgan. Did he really think a hand would keep him away?


Trying to walk towards the two, Willie placed both hands on his hips. He looked like a man in his hundreds, if it weren't only for his brown hair and devious green eyes. Once close, he licked his lips at Plymouth, looking like he was getting ready to eat his ear for lunch and then he turned his gaze over to miss priss. "Yee complain' 'bout de butter on yer bum? It be no thing mith prithh! I got thum buutterr on me bum too! Didja 'ave fun on the thlide? We be makin' it betterr me and... Uhh... What'th ith name." He informed her, his face glowing, a great big smile om his lips.

Standing as still as she could, which wasn't much of a problem for Daphne. Her character itself was normally stiff, so it wasn't like she was veering much from her true self. "Do you think you can..." she reached out and wiped a bit of butter grease from her thighs with the back of her hand. "It's dripping everywhere."

Then Willie Crocker started talking and Miss Hopton really really wished Garret was around to help her control his crazy brother. "No. I didn't have fun at all," she replied instantly then wished she had bit her tongue. Plymouth was kind enough to take her out on a date, and was currently cleaning up and she was being rather rude and ungrateful and...She sighed, biting her lower lip. "It was...interesting though. New experiences are always good."

Turning around she glanced down at her now clean dress. Sighing in relief, she reached out and ruffled, Plymouth's hair. "You're the best, Plymouth Morgan."

Plymouth's eyes glazed over in that way they sometimes did. Like... googoogoogoo. You're the best, Plymouth Morgan. "Hehe... Second best, Daphadil. Second best to current company." Googooogooogooo. He felt FLOATY. He stared up at her with glassy eyes for a good half a minute before standing back up.


"What is he calling you?" Plymouth asked. He didn't speak... Willie. "It better not be anything ... bad." MMMMHMMm WARNING YOU, WILLIE CROCKER.

"We should get going, Daphadil. I'd like to get away from the slide and pretend that whole thing didn't happen." Merlin knew how they'd get BACK to the school. Good thing Plymouth knew lots about tents.

Willie stared at Daphne Hopton as she claimed the ride not being fun at all. Although she had changed, making him so confused. Women. The just don't know what they want do they?

His gaze was lifted to Plymouth, who to him looked like a bamboo's bottom. His eyes narrowed at him. Who was he to speak to him?! He was Willie Crocker! A Crocker isn't supposed to be spoken to like this! He was... Well, he was a Crocker!

His left eye twitching, Willie tried his best to straighten up, only to wince a bit from the pain that erupted from his bottom. "I callleeddd 'errrrrr MITHHHHH *SPIITTT* PRITHHHHH *SPIIIIIITTT*, yee daft 'eaded perthuuuun you!"

"Miss..." she didn't finish her sentence and simply sent a scathing look at Willie Crocker. It wasn't bad as much as it was rather improper. Sighing, she waved a hand, trying to erase Wille from their scenery. "Don't pay him any attention, Plymouth. He's the Crocker gone mad, that one."

She'd choose Garret any day over this Crocker. UGH. UGH. "Willie!" exclaimed the blond. "Stop spitting! Why hasn't your speech improved? Didn't I tell your brother to help you with your little problem?" Did she? She couldn't recall the last time she directed a word at that Butcher's Boy.

Almost undetectable, the corner of her lips turned down slightly. "Stop calling me, Miss Priss." Garret used to do it all the time.

"Miss?" It sounded like the little spitting ear biter was saying a lot more than that. Plymouth, too, frowned deeply at Willie. "You should go see Nurse Avalon."


AVA LON. WOOHOOHOO. Ahem.


Plymouth nudged Daphne and motioned over his shoulder. He was looking out towards the greenhouses. Then, he bent down to recover his discarded jacket. It went over his shoulder. "Can I offer you my arm again, me Lady Daphadil?" Plymouth did offer his arm again anyway. "I promise no more slides for the night, and... I won't ruin your dress again. And... okay?"

He was close to baring his teeth to both of them, as they were starrting to annoy him until Daphne asked him about his speech and why it hasn't improved.

His face instantly fell, his eyes tearing up and his lower lip quivering. He didn't have a speech problem! He was just fine! Wilie sniffed, rubbing his nose in hopes of stopping himself from crying.


"I-I-I dun 'ave no probblam with me thpeech!" He told her bravely. "Yer da one 'o 'ath a problem wit yer thpeech! His eyes then turned to face Ply. "Mithh Avaaaloon meee buumm! I dun wanna go! I 'AVE NO PROOBLAAMM"

The hideous jacket was over his shoulder and the bow-tie teased her with an awkward wave from the center of Plymouth's throat; Daphne wrinkled her even as she grinned, accepting Morgan's arm. "I'll take your word, Plymouth. No more slides and no more butter on...my dress."

Bottom. Yeah.

Oh. Oh. Oh, dear. "You're not crying are you?" He was crying. Oh, dear! Her heart felt heavy and she placed a hand on the top of her stomach. She'd made a little boy cry! What kind of a witch was she? The one who left her wand in her trunk and made little boys cry; that kind.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Willie," she apologized urgently. "I didn't mean that--well, yes I did. I think you should run off to Nurse Avalon about your bum. Okay? I...I can't stay."

She was on a date. Sigh. Things weren't going according to plan. Well, did they even have a plan? Daphne's eyes sought Plymouth's own. Surely, he'd know what to do.