A derisive snort was the first response that escaped him at her prissy comment, "Yes, well, in the future," he told her, stretching out a hand to poke her side, "it's called smelling manly, not bad."

Sheesh. It was common knowledge, anyway, then men were supposed to smell like dirt and sweat and the great outdoors. "And... you smell nice, too." he said, the words tumbling out of his mouth in a great rush of breath before he could think about it properly.

EEK! Squirming, she attempted to avoid his poking finger to no avail and even though she had wanted to frown, she found herself giggling briefly. That was, of course, before she glared at Garret disapprovingly. "That tickled," she stated in a mildly threatening voice. Don't do it again. "Manly? Honestly."

Snort. He expected her to buy that story? Smelling like dirt, sweat and...like you had been smeared in donuts' glaze was not manly. Wait--what were they talking about? Blinking at Garret through the blanket of the night, Daphne tried to analyze his facial features to no avail. "Thank you for noticing," she replied a bit smugly, and hid her blushing face in her arms once more.

Just in case Garret had amazing night vision.

Gratified to hear her giggle, Garret waved off her warning, knowing perfectly well that it was all talk. She didn't really mind, nope. But she was acting all weird, though, and Garret being Garret, he didn't really pick up on what was causing these odd fluctuations in Daphne's behaviour. What he did pick though... was his nose.

"Well," he wiped his finger on a blanket of a random person sitting near him, "it'd be a bit hard not to notice, ya know wot I mean?" he looked over at her hiding her face from him, which was just as well... otherwise she would have seen him digging for gold, "Considering the fact that you probably use half a bottle of scented whatever every day."

To be quite honest, sometimes she smelled a little TOO nice and it made him sneeze.

Still in hiding, she rolled her eyes. He always said that! Know wot I mean? No, Garret Crocker, we don't know what you mean unless you fully finish expressing your thoughts. Sigh. Men. "I don't. You're being ridiculous," she huffed, upturning her nose.

Ha! As if! Perfume was far too expensive to be used in such ridiculous quantities--maybe she just needed to change brands. Preoccupied, she tried to discreetly smell herself.

"Because I'm prepared for hungry wild animals." Melanie replied matter-oh-factually. "I believe the real question, Claude, is, why don't you have an air horn?" she asked, arching an eyebrow. No wild animals were going to eat her tonight.

Thankfully she had an extra air horn she supposed she could give to Claude if he wanted it. After all, he'd probably be jealous after she gave him an explanation for hers, and by chance he may not desire to end up in the stomach of a wild animal by sunrise. "I have an extra if you want it." she added casually with a small shrug, glancing over at her giant garbage bag.

As he requested she keep quiet about whatever his plan was, Melanie nodded her head, eager to know what the plan was, miming zipping her lips and throwing away the key. Meh, she'd need to find that later She could keep a secret... most of the time.

But then he explained.

Pudding fight.

...Pudding fight.

....HE WANTED TO HAVE A PUUUDDING FIGHT?!

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, WHOA. Melanie's lip zipper immediately disappeared. "You wanna get rid of innocent little pudding cups?" she asked, her mouth dropping open, crestfallen. "Even the chocolate ones? Y-You're going to put pudding it the balloons?" Melanie asked, her voice squeaking a little as she pointed to the balloon in his hand. "P-Pudding Killer." she accused, sidling around to stand protectively in front of her garbage bag, with a frown fixed on her face.

At least he still believed her name was Millicent though, and she still had her secret identity. That was a plus....

OhMyDorthy'sRubyRedSlippers!

Hold that thought, now Shana wanted to take that away! Melanie quickly turned around, to give her a 'look' considering putting a hand over her mouth... but figuring that if she did she'd probably lose a finger. "Because- because, My name is actually ummm...I'm really..emm..." she stuttered out looking around wildly, for some inspiration to help her lie to keep her secret identity after Shana's outburst. "Ummmm..."

"PUDDING! Let's talk about pudding some more!!" she blurted out, biting her lip slightly. "I won't be getting it on anyone's sleeping bag because, there won't be a pudding fight." she informed them both, crossing her arms in a dignified manner, smirking slightly at the fact that the Claude: 'Dont.Even.Think.About.It.Landers' (Apparently that was Claude's last name...) with was clearly a look that suggested an early grave and the words directed at her were 'And don't get any on my sleeping bag.' with a smile.

Haha, she pitied the boy. But she was more amused.

Copernicus FINALLY made it down to the camp out (ew, bugs and dirt). He stared at the log for a while, considering whether or not it was sanitary to sit on. It wasn't.

With a dramatic sigh, Cope took a seat and glanced down the log toward Crocker and Hopton. Erm. Where were people that actually liked him?

Sitting up, Daphne was still busy pretending, by all means to be highly offended by Garret Crocker's inconsiderate remark. She did not bathe in perfume. In her desperate urge to ignore the heat on her neck and cheeks, her honey eyes found Copernicus Kettleburn.

Sitting on a log, looking incredibly uncomfortable. Well, that suited him just fine. However, Kettleburn was a good fellow to get on her side in this argument. Right? "Kettleburn!" she called out as she whipped her wand to zap at three fireflies simultaneously.

Die. Die. Die you flying little bright pests from Hades!

"Kettleburn, quit being so anti-social and come here. I need to ask you something."

Hmm. This was a first, but Cope wasn't one to look askew at a gesture of friendship. He slid down the log and grinned at Daphne hopefully. Maybe she hated him LESS? Maybe Cela told him nice things about him that out weighed whatever bad she'd thought before? MAYBE?

"Good evening, Daphne Hopton. Garret Crocker. What was it you wanted to ask?"

Oh, look at him! Daphne grinned as innocently as possible at him from her seated position. He thought she was trying to be friends with him. How very precious. Just for his remarkable undying hope, Daphne crinkled her nose at him. She'd be nice for the time being. Miss Hopton needed his opinion and Celandine liked him. Enough to--the thought alone made her blush so she shook her head and AVOIDED thinking about THAT altogether.

WOW WEE. Those thoughts should never be brought up again unless Cela did it and it was still mortifying. "I won't beat around the bush." Heh. Bush. They were outside and there were bushes on the outside, right? Oh, she made a funny! "Do you think I bathe in my perfume? Do I smell bad? Hmm? Do I?"

And as if to provoke him to answer her faster, Daphne turned her head slightly and waved at her neck. Maybe he could smell her from afar.

OH. Ahem. Copernicus gave her a wide-eyed look before giving a delicate sniff. What was this? She wanted to know if her perfume smelled too strongly? She was asking him to... to SMELL HER?

Cope actually didn't smell anything. Nothing bad, nothing good. Just turned earth and campfire and the lake. He leaned in, his nose almost at her neck. SNIFF.

"Um. No, you smell very nice, but not overwhelming."

Robert laughed at Liz's comment and shook his head, "He didn't HAVE to say that. I'll just have to think of some other way to prove you wrong and no I didn't see the Quidditch notice I had heard it from someone sooo...I still don't look at it." He smirked and debated leaning back on Liz's sleeping bag when he saw a familiar figure heading over and Liz backing into him slightly. A look past Mariska told him why. Barely noticing that the young Ravenclaw had gotten up he smiled in return to Mariska's smile while purposely and completely ignoring Cayden. "Mariska...thanks for your help by the way the other day..." he glared playfully down at Liz as he ran his hand up and down her side, "It seems some of us have no sense of self-preservation." He smirked and noticed the Ravenclaw boy come back, "Hey what food do they have over there? I'm starving?"

After listening to Professor Dumont explain how to make a S'more, Wesley grabbed two of the graham crackers, chocolate, and a marshmallow.

Apparently you where supposed to cook it over the fire...

Scrunching up her eyebrows, Wesley tried to figure how exactly you where supposed to heat it up. Was she supposed to levitate the whole thing in front of the fire? Was it even possible to levitate more than one thing at once? If only the pieces would stick together, then it would be so much more easier. Wesley tried smushing it all, but the graham cracker broke, dropping on the ground. Now it was all dirty...

Grabbing another one, Wesley tried again, more carefully than the previous time. It seemed to be working, until the chocolate became goopy from her hand's heat, sticking in chocolatey softness all over her palm.

Waving her left hand in the air, the Hufflepuff tried without success to release the chocolate. It just wouldn't budge. Eager to get rid of the stain, she rubbed the chocolate onto the grass, right next to the chunk of cracker.

This isn't working, Wesley thought depressingly. Surely it wasn't supposed to be this hard. After all, if a muggle could do it, so could she. Obviously Wesley was doing something wrong.

Looking around to see how the others would do it, the tiny brunette spotted one person who seemed to be cooking it quite professionally.

Ohhhhh...you only cook the marshmallow. That made a lot of sense.

And, from the looks of it, you cooked it on a stick. Wrinkling her nose, Wesley couldn't help but think that it seemed so unsanitary. But...it was how you where supposed to go about doing it. It was the right way.

And, it wasn't like she had to eat it. Just...experience the process.

Grabbing a stick, Wesley stuck on a marshmallow, and headed over to the fire. Plopping down on the ground, all the while watching the girl for an example, the first year put the stick in the fire, wondering how exactly she would know when it was done.

Aren't sticks flammable???

Daphne pretended Copernicus Kettleburn wasn't sniffing her neck. The effort made her rigid so she just sat there, frozen, and staring at the fire in the distance before pointing at Garret's face in victory. "See? That's what happens when you talk too much, Crocker!"

With all her might, she held back the urge to place her thumb on her nose, stick out her tongue and wiggle her fingers. Cringing at a crawling..whatever it was, Daphne pointed her wand at it and ZAPPED! By the time she was done, Daphne was positive she would have rid Hogwarts of its bug problem.

"Thank you," she finally half-whispered to Kettleburn a most smug grin on her face. TEEHEE. "These boys at Hogwarts, they don't know how to appreciate anything."

Like that Jack Fritzera. Reese Upstead? REESE. UPSTEAD? Honestly. Taking hold of a box of beans from Garret's possession she held it out to Copernicus as a peace offering to complete their temporary alliance. "Beans?"

Quote:

Originally Posted by LadyNerd

HA. HA. HA. Mr. Groundsman made a funny but Lyra did not laugh. That was her saying for the Huffies blowing their way around the Quidditch field. But she had to be nice to Mr. Masterson so...she began laughing after a few moments of quietness. Obviously it was forced.

"Oh Mr, Masterson, you are...one of a kind." She made a ticking noise with a bright smile, teeth and all. He certainly was one of a kind. "They are over this way." She began to walk to where Vannie was...stuck to Torin. Poor thing didn't want her to leave.

"Oh, get a sense of humour," he sighed, following her over to where these two children were stuck to each other. "Mr. Torin, if you could be so kind as to let go of Miss Vanessa here, that would be greatly appreciated."

He pulled out his wand as well, just in case he'd have to pry the boy off the poor girl. Until then...

"Anyone know any good campfire songs?" he called out, looking around.

"Well, they do say boys develop more slowly than girls, right? So maybe it isn't that we're hopeless, but just that we haven't quite figured out how to handle so much..." Hormone-crazed insanity? Girls who kissed and ran away? Girls who didn't run and ruined you for other girls?

"So much feminine perfection." He grinned and cupped his hands for the beans. "You know those goofy questions they ask in magazines? Like... if you were a flavor of bean, what would you be? Do you ever think of an answer?" He was trying REALLY hard.

Merlin, help her.

She was not going to laugh in Copernicus Kettleburn's face! She would not! So help her Gods of Divination and Cleanliness! Coughing behind her hand, Daphne attempted to cover up her slip-up. Woo. WOO WEE. He was hilarious. "I think we read different kinds of magazines, Kettleburn," muttered Daphne through her tittering.

Blast it! She couldn't control it! Wheezing slightly, she patted her chest. Calm. CALM! Alliances must not be broken! At least not yet. "But I'd probably be something like almond toffee..."

Right? If only because she loooooved the taste of almonds. "What would you be?" Oh, that was a good question! "You feel like a--something gray." A gray bean. Pepper? Ash?

Dani giggled as she watched the other girl making s'mores. The girl would randomly glance her way, so she decided to walk over to where she was sitting. She watched as the girls marshmallow caught on fire. "Oi! Your marshmallow!" She pointed at it. "It's not supposed to catch on fire you left it too long." How could someone not know when to take a marshamallow out? It was common sense...

Gray? Ugh. That was... bad, right? Dismal and boring. Nice to know exactly what one Daphne Hopton was really thinking. It had been going well too, or so he thought. She'd sort of smiled, and seemed amused by his attempts at light-hearted banter.

He pretended to consider all his options as he ate a few of the beans. Brussel sprouts? Ugh. "I think apple flavored, maybe. It's hard to say. What do you suppose Crocker would say your flavor was? That's easier." Crisp, simple, not too sweet. But not... gray.

Daphne shook the box of beans in amusement. HMM. What had just happened to Copernicus Kettleburn's face? It went from incredibly giddy to...oh, that little crushed puppy kind of look. Oh, Merlin. Had she done it again? She'd said something. She did! Just like Kettleburn to be like his stepbrother. Why were they so sensitive?

Men.

"Ah-pul," drawled out Daphne, with a blank gaze. Copernicus an apple? Well, perhaps it made more sense to Cela than it did to her. "Very, well, Apple you are." What would Garret say she was?

"Something, prissy and sour," she remarked bitterly out of the corner of her mouth, throwing a scathing look at Garret (who was picking his nose! gross). "Pickled limes or something."

"Oh, I doubt that. Crocker is your friend and chooses to spend time in your company. He wouldn't think you were something so... unsavory. And if we were discussing someone like Plymouth, well... I think he'd say you were something sweet and complicated. Tiramisu, only I doubt he's ever had tiramisu."

Cope kicked his heels against the log before giving her a tentative smile. "I say you're tirasmisu too. Layers, you know?"

Mari first looked to Elizabeth and smiled at her friends comment. " Yes, I decided to finally venture outside my dormitory, for once. You know, fresh air and all." She shrugged a little, turning to glance at Cayden and give him a quick smile. She gave his hand another squeeze as Robert addressed her only; She could tell when someone was ignoring another person. Mari didn't quite understand it, but she was glad that at least no one had tried to do anything stupid. " You're welcome," She said, standing closer to Cayden. The slightly odd moment was diffused by Robert addressing another person, something Mari was thankful for. " So...this is interesting. One big camp out. I'm going to have a hard time making sure no dirt gets in my sleeping bag." She said, making small talk at the moment because she didn't know what else to say.

Daphne failed to point out that the person they were talking about was behind them, still digging for gold, lovely. Blushing at his tiramisu comparison, Daphne tried to wave it all away with a chuckle and a wiggle of her fingers. "This feels a little awkward," she admitted holding out her arms before her, testing her nervous level.

Only a little shaking. Heh. "But I want to be a little less tiramisu and more--" More what? Not so complicated and a hassle and stiff? "Gelatin!"

That sounded a whole lot better in her head.

"Oh, like..." Cope shook all over like a bowl full of jelly. "You want to be jiggly?" He laughed at that before realizing he was sitting with Daphne Hopton (who hated him) and acting like a fool (which he was).

Cope's smile dimmed just slightly and he focused on the fire. "So you're gelatin. Tell me something... what do you find so heinous about me?"

...She would not laugh. She would not. Nodding at him seriously, Daphne cleared her throat. "In a sense, yes, but not literally," corrected the blond with a signature crinkle of her nose. Who wanted to be jiggly all over? Who? Besides, perhaps, Copernicus Kettleburn who had seemed to enjoy his jiggling moment.

Then, the One Million Galleon Question. "Ah," stammered Daphne raising her brows at the fire. "That's...it's complicated." Scratching her neck nervously, Miss Hopton tried to find a nice and cordial way of putting it. "I don't...like the way...Celandine is around you."

Sure, it was a selfish reason but it was the truth. He made it feel like Celandine was growing faster than she was and in turn, leaving her behind. To tell Copernicus Kettleburn, though, was proving entirely difficult so she just sat there, avoiding eye contact and punishing the grass for all of her teenage angst.

"That is a problem," Copernicus nodded, steepling his fingers beneath his chin. He thought about Cela, especially how she was when she was with him. "I'm not sure we can find common ground on this, except that we both care about her and want the best for her."

Cope pressed his hands flat on the log and stared hard at the leaping flames. "I like how she is when she's with me. She's happy. She feels loved and appreciated. I treat her like a young woman, and not like a little girl the way her family does. Are those bad things?"