Week Name: A Quiet Lull
Date/Time: Saturday, November 4th, 2006 / 12:19 PM
Location: Hogsmeade - Three Broomsticks
Characters: Jory Elecott, Benjamin Blair
Status: Public
Summary: Negotiations and arguments about nothing at all.
Completion: Incomplete
(
And I got shot but I never died. )
"Because," he explained impatiently, "you are not yet 16. In the grand scheme of things, no, NO. They are not too old. In this moment where YOU, Elecott, have a mother complex and cannot appreciate a girl unless she is older than you? They're too old. Now c'mon."
Poke poke poke. He poked Elecott in the side. Was going to only do it once and then wondered if Elecott was ticklish. Kept poking. Poke poke poke poke. Once that was done:
"Tell me if ya fancy any girls, Smell-o-cott."
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Benji leaned in close. Maybe they should not speak so loudly about this. Maybe it was embarrassing for some blokes and that was fine, Benji was considerate. Specially when it came to his favouritest of blokes.
"Why?" he stage-whispered, thunking his forehead against Elecott's. THUNK. "Do you want to have a sleep-over? Thunk-thunk?" He thunked two more times and then moved away. "Dunno how Beau would feel about that. But if that's what you want, we can. I'll turn him into a holiday ham and stick him in the freezer, mmm-mmm."
If Jory was wanting to discuss this during a sleepover, it must have been very serious. VERY serious indeed!
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Slowly (ignoring the babble about the holiday ham, since it did not make sense), he explained, "I just mean that we aren't girls having a sleepover, there's no reason to gossip over who I fancy, Benjamin."
He took a disinterested sip of his drink. "So the whole thing is irrelevant, let's move on."
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"Don't you think gossip is instructive, Elecott?" he asked softly.
Looked at Elecott out of the side of his eyes. His smile was sly. "Well don't you? What's The Daily Prophet besides gossip? Hearsay. If it's published it's ok, if it's all in your head-"
and most things are Elecott
"-then it's crazy? Hm." He poked Elecott hard on the side of the head and took another healthy slurp of milk. "People dead or missing, he said she said, the girl you fancy.... all gossip. What. Is. The. Difference."
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Yes, he got it. It was crazy Benjamin Blair speak and he seemed to understand it all the same. And Jory had no problem admitting (in his head) that he had unexpectedly become a slave to gossip in its less banal forms, tracing centuries of history and storing it in his head as a list of he-said-she-said, he-died-she-died. Maybe there was a gossiping quality to history as well.
Finally he looked up, set his quill aside, released an agonisingly long exhale. He shrugged, which was the closest thing to an 'I see your point' that he was capable of. "But honestly," he said, picking up the thought where Benjamin left off. "I really don't fancy anyone."
He picked his quill up
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Benji grinned. It was not an attractive grin. "I get that, J.H.E. I'm an idiot but I'm not daft."
He figured Elecott would know the difference. Folding his arms behind his head, Benji tipped the chair onto its back legs. The chair back hit the wall with a loud thud, his arms cushioned his head from near concussion.
"But anyway," he went on loftily. "I haven't got any gossip for you today, Elecott. If that's you wanted."
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Quietly as possible, he slid his chair backward until it hit the wall too. None of this tipping back business. He crossed his arms over his chest, frowning in thought.
After a moment, he asked, "Then why'd you want to meet here today?"
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