Open RP: Library Fort

[themountie.livejournal.com]

Time moved... strangely, at Hogwarts, or at least it did for Constable Fraser. Things seemed to blur together a lot more here than they did in Chicago, or even out in the Yukon; which was how it got to be the middle of May before he realized that 1) he'd somehow missed the anniversary of his former partner's disappearance and 2) he'd missed said former partner's birthday for the first time ever.

These two facts were a little distressing, and had made him a little melancholy, but he decided to be pro-active about it. It had been just over two years since he'd last seen Ray the Former, but that hadn't stopped him from making presents for the last two birthdays, and it certainly wasn't going to stop him now!

The library, apparently, wasn't quite as safe a hiding place from the new Ray as he'd once thought, but it was safer than either their room or the Gryffindor Common Room, and he figured if he angled himself just so... A-hah. Positioning himself behind a veritable fort of books and old Quibblers, sitting just so he could see the library door, he set himself down and began to toy with what looked like string and beads and pieces of wood.

He wasn't exactly hidden; he was trying to avoid Ray for the moment, but he probably would have welcomed any other company.

Comments

[busty-robin.livejournal.com]

((Aaaand the hiatus is ovah! *caclkes with glee!*))

A lifetime ago, the sight of Stephanie Brown in a library -of her own free will, no less- might have been the signal of hell freezing over.

But a lifetime ago, Steph didn't have magic powers and what was apparently a "Natural talent for transfiguration" (http://community.livejournal.com/hogwarts_hocus/1274720.html?thread=65035360#t65035360). So she found herself in the nerd-zone, going over a spell designed to turn a vegetable into a fruit, or vice versa. The only problem was that Steph had seen fit to bring a tomato to practice on, and couldn't remember which food group they belonged to. They had seeds on the inside, but she distinctly recalled a talking tomato being the star of those lame ‘Veggie Tales’ flicks.

Luckily, there was a Fraser in the room! He seemed like the guy to ask about this kind of thing. Steph walked over, and plopped her tomato on top of the stack of books. "Hi Constable! Is a tomato a fruit, or a vegetable?"

[themountie.livejournal.com]

((Welcome back!))

Fraser paused in mid-fiddling-with-wood and looked up, eyes centering on the bright red tomato that had mounted an assault on his book fort. Huh. He raised his gaze higher and smiled at Stephanie, whose presence made infinitely more sense. "A fruit. Were you thinking of growing a vegetable garden? They're not very well-suited to this climate, I'm afraid."

[busty-robin.livejournal.com]

Steph picked up said fortress-assaulting-tomato. "That's what I thought. But then why is it always grouped with vegetables? I don't know about you, but I'm sensing a worldwide conspiracy. I bet the Heinz corporation is involved. People feel better about eating ketchup if they think it's a veggie." She was mostly joking.

"Oh, no. I'm not much of a gardener. I once over watered a cactus. It's a transfiguration thing." But she had been studying for halves of hours, and Fraser was much better company than a not-vegatable. She plopped down accross from Fraser, and saved him the trouble of pushing aside the middle row of books. Steph was polite like that. "What's with the fortress o' textbooks?"

[themountie.livejournal.com]

That would probably have worked better if it wasn't Fraser, who generally couldn't tell a joke from a hole in the wall and who, at times, seemed to have a broken sarcasm-meter. He frowned thoughtfully. "I don't think the Heinz Corporation has anything to do with it -- the debate began long before the advent of catsup. Actually, I think it had to do with a debate in your Congress about whether taxes could be levied on tomatoes as a vegetable or not. And, well, once the American government made a decision..." He gave a soft, wry little snort and went back to his beads, stringing a pair onto a strip of leather.

At her question, he looked a little embarrassed, his ears turning a bit red. "I'm..." Not hiding. Hiding was certainly not the right word. "...I'm, uh, lying low. For the moment. So, transfiguration, you say? What is it you're trying to transfigure the tomato into, if you don't mind my asking?" A very smooth return to the topic, he thought.

[so-strong-sad.livejournal.com]

If anyone knew the sound of arts being crafted, it was Strong Sad. Curious, he peered behind the stack of books and magazines to find Fraser and his items.

"I didn't know this library held craft jams! Can I join in?" he asked in what was probably one of the most delighted voices he had. Unfortunately, it pretty much sounded like his usual whiny draggy tone.

[busty-robin.livejournal.com]

"Oh, they were planning this way before inventing ketchup. Not coincidentally, the husband of the Heinz heiress ran for president a few years ago." Steph nodded sagely. "Government involvement at the highest levels. You can see how far the conspiracy goes."

"Why? Making someone a surprise?" Oh, topic changes. Steph was familiar with the concept, and decided to indulge the poor Mountie. "A vegetable. Eggplant, to be precise." She paused. "Erm- eggplants are vegetables, right? There's no eggplant conspiracy I should know about?"

[themountie.livejournal.com]

"Did she really?" Fraser perked up with interest. He'd taken it in stride that his own version of the world seemed to be a few years behind this one. Why not, when his father was a ghost, one of his best friends had been dead for eighteen years, and the place was crawling with elves? "I wasn't aware of that. You said 'ran', though -- I assume he didn't win?" His lips quirked. "I suppose the conspiracy was put to a stop at that point."

Fraser shrugged and picked moodily at the leather strip, but when she went on he sighed gratefully-- and then winced. "Well, um, actually, technically speaking..."

[themountie.livejournal.com]

Fraser gave the newcomer a brief, blank look, but that lasted about two seconds before his natural sense of politeness kicked in. He wasn't sure what the young man actually was, but that hardly mattered at a place like Hogwarts. "As far as I know it doesn't, actually, but.." He looked down at the spread before him and hesitated. "Well, I suppose I don't really need all of these." He'd brought extra supplies with him, after all... And the -- well, whatever it was, it seemed very pleased. He thought.

Summoning up a smile, he pushed some of the leather strips and beads over towards Strong Sad. "By all means, please do join me. My name is Constable Benton Fraser, of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Who might you be?"

[busty-robin.livejournal.com]

Steph giggled. "We can only hope."

"Seriously? But on all of the cutesy food pyramid illustrations..." She sighed and shook her head. "The public school system failed me miserably. Okay, Radish. I'll change it into a Radish."

[themountie.livejournal.com]

"On the other hand," he pointed out, "most people still do consider tomatoes to be a vegetable." His lips thinned, his expression suddenly weary. "Some people," he added in a slightly aggrieved tone, "even consider ketchup to be a vegetable." Three guesses who he was talking about there. "So it seems that the tide of change has not swept over this particular rock."

At that, he gave her a nod. "You should be safe there. A radish is a root vegetable. Similar to a turnip, and not very much to a tomato."

[busty-robin.livejournal.com]

"Well, I mean, if the government classifies them as a vegetable, and ketchup is made from them..." Steph trailed off. She had rationalized many a late-night cheeseburger by virtue of ketchup. "I'm just sayin'. Hypothetically."

"Great!" She pulled out her wand and read the spell, trying not to stumble over the sort-of Latin. She'd been practicing her sort-of Latin. To Steph's surprise, the spell...worked exactly like it was supposed to. She let out a happy shriek. "It worked! Nothing blew up or turned into poultry!"

[so-strong-sad.livejournal.com]

Strong Sad lowered himself into a chair across from Fraser and eagerly gathered the beads and strips he had been offered. "Oh, I'm Strong Sad, of...um...." Now he felt like he needed some sort of militaryish affiliation, too. Oh, wait a moment! There was something. "Of the Homestarmy (http://www.hrwiki.org/index.php/Homestarmy)." He started tying an extravagant sort of knot at the end of one of the strips.

[themountie.livejournal.com]

Fraser squinted at her. "That's somewhat akin, Stephanie, to saying that a truck is organic because it's made mostly from metal and mineral oils. Which... yes, you could make that argument, but I'm not sure that the logic entirely follows. Still..." He shrugged, toying with one of the pieces of wood, bending it carefully. "As long as no one dies of scurvy."

Letting the wood go, he sat back to watch her perform the spell, genuinely impressed when it worked. "Fine work, Stephanie," he told her seriously, a smile brightening his face. "That looks like an excellent radish."

[themountie.livejournal.com]

Fraser raised his eyebrows. "I'm not-- not entirely familiar wiht that organization, I'm afraid." Homestarmy? It sounded positively made-up, but on the other hand so did a giant walking... hippopotamus...?

He rallied himself. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Sad." The knot, now, that was curious; Fraser found himself watching, trying to see if he could identify it. His hands continued to work, tying his own strings together into an increasingly elaborate net.

[busty-robin.livejournal.com]

"Scurvy is always unpleasant. And if you have to have that extra cheeseburger to keep it at bay, then so be it." Or that extra helping of fries. At three a.m.

"Thanks!" Steph picked up the radish, admiring her handiwork. "I'm actually kind of good at this stuff. I've never been..." instead of finishing the sentence, she smiled and took a bite of the radish.

Problem. Radishes were disgusting. She grimaced, and swallowed. "Ew. Vegetables."

[themountie.livejournal.com]

Mmm, three AM fries. Even Fraser knew the addictive properties of those. (Actually, he secretly loved greasy diner food -- shh, don't tell.) "Only if it won't be too much of a sacrifice, of course," he agreed dryly.

He watched her eat the radish curiously, unable to surpress a lopsided smirk at her reaction. "I've heard they're an acquired taste. Of course, radishes aren't common to the Yukon, so I've never acquired them myself... Maybe you should have transfigured it into a bottle of ketchup, Stephanie?" Meanwhile, now he was set to wondering if he could do that. He'd never tried this particular transfiguration before, but it didn't seem like it could be that difficult... He tipped his head to the side, studying the bitten radish critically. "Do you mind if I...?"

[busty-robin.livejournal.com]

"I bet so. God, they taste like feet." She reached into her backpack, and pulled out an Airhead, that was easily two months old. The only way to fight evil vegetables was with granulated, processed sugar. "Mm. Sour apple."

"Ketchup would have been a much better choice." She nodded. "Be my guest. Sure as heck ain’t gonna finish it."

[themountie.livejournal.com]

Fraser couldn't help but wrinkle his nose at the candy. French fries, he liked. French fries were one of the things he'd decided he liked about city living. Processed candy, on the other hand... God, it even smelled chemical. He could smell it from here. Stale and chemical. "Ah," he said, because he felt like it was the only way to say anything without lying or being impolite.

Reaching out, Fraser took the radish from her and studied it for a moment, twisting it about in his hands, his project temporarily forgotten in the face of stuff to play with science. "Hmm...." He set it down on the table and took out his wand, concentrating hard. A few muttered Latin phrases later, and it did, indeed, turn into ketchup -- one tiny ketchup packet, to be precise. He looked disappointed.

[busty-robin.livejournal.com]

"Oh man, I'm being rude." She pulled out another Airhead -mystery flavored, no less- and waved it in Fraser's direction. "Want one? I've got a bag full. There are also gummy worms, and sour patch kids!" And a grappling hook, but that wasn't edible.

"Oh, cool!" Steph poked the packet. It was the genuine article! "Single serving. How convenient is that?" Unless, like Steph, Fraser the type to use a ketchup packet per fry.

[so-strong-sad.livejournal.com]

"Oh, the Homestarmy is a force to be reckoned with. Our main duties are to ensure that no one works on Labor Day, but we held our own in the Battle of Strongbadia, with only the sacrifice of Third-Style Private Frank Bennedetto (http://www.hrwiki.org/index.php/Frank_Bennedetto)." Strong Sad paused. "May he pop in peace. As our leader says, our membership is 'limited to the few who are sick and tired of playing second-fiddle to a two-bit wrestle man' - that's my brother, Strong Bad - 'and his yellow dog' - that's The Cheat, although he's not a dog, so I don't really know why Homestar said he's one."

Strong Sad examined Fraser for a moment. "We wear uniforms, too, but, well...our budget is pretty much nonexistent, so they don't look as snazzy as yours." His eyes dropped down to Fraser's hands. "Oh, that's some cool knot tying you're doing. What are you making?" Another brief pause, and then, "Oh, also, you can just call me Strong Sad. Should I call you Constable?"

[themountie.livejournal.com]

Fraser tried not to look completely horrified and sort of mostly managed. Clearing his throat, he smiled and shook his head. "Ah... that's very generous, but no thank you." He had tasted machine oil that he suspected was tastier than the candies. At least Ray's Smarties had chocolate in them. These were just... well, by scent the only things he could identify were sugar and gelatin. As Ray might say, yikes. "Thank you kindly."

"That's a good point. I was hoping for a bottle, though..." Poking his tongue out between his teeth, he leaned down to more carefully inspect the packet. "Maybe that requires a bushel."

[themountie.livejournal.com]

Genuinely quite interested, he listened to Strong Sad's explanation. So far he'd catalogued about four or five different worlds that were clearly and strikingly different from his own, not counting Hogwarts itself -- here, apparently, was another, as different from the others as night and day. He understood about a third of what Strong Sad was actually saying, but still! It was all very interesting!

Plus, Strong Sad had complimented The Uniform, which always earned a gold star in Fraser's book. "Ah, thank you," he said with obvious pride, leaving his work to straighten his collar and lanyard slightly. Snazzy. He liked it. At Strong Sad's questions he looked down at his project, then back up at the--- whatever he was. "As you like. Most people call me Fraser, admittedly. And this--" he held up the net-- "will be a dreamcatcher, eventually. It... tangles up all your bad dreams before they can get to you."

[busty-robin.livejournal.com]

"Your loss." She suppressed a smile. "I've even got Mike n' Ikes! The original kind, not the kind with real fruit juice. I don't know why they went and changed a perfectly good formula."

"Looks like. Stupid radishes. Oh!" Steph got an idea, and flipped through her text. "Or maybe you could do an enlargement charm, and then transfigure the wrapper into a bottle."

[themountie.livejournal.com]

Oh, Lord. He gave her his best 'I'm secretly dying inside but outwardly I'm going to pretend I agree with you more than anything in the world' smile; it came across as slightly frozen. "That's quite all right, thank you. I, uh, filled up at lunch. All those French fries."

This was all only because he didn't know her quite well enough yet to lecture her, of course. Once she made it into the inner circle of Fraser, they were having a long, snarky discussion about how it was not really a good idea to put that many inorganic products into your body at one sitting.

"That might work..." He held up the packet, then placed it carefully in the palm of his hand and once more pointed his wand at it. The ketchup grew, until it was big enough to be the envy of all ketchup-lovers everywhere. "Do you want to try the transfiguration, or should I?" He didn't want to monopolize her studying -- he hadn't even come here to study!

[busty-robin.livejournal.com]

When one is 17 years old, and teasing befuddled a Mountie, it is very difficult not to giggle. Steph called upon every interrogation (or, bat!terrogation! Yeah, Bruce didn't think it was funny either) technique she could remember, and managed to keep a straight face. "Gotcha. Good lunch choice, by the way." She then pulled out her piece-de-resistance: the Giant Pixy Stick (http://www.oldtimeconfections.com/Count%20Goods/Pixy%20stix%20giant%20size.JPG). She popped the top open, and swallowed a mouthful. Mmm. Grape flavored sugar.

"Why don't you give it a shot? I've already had one successful experiment today. Wouldn't want to go and ruin a perfect average." Plus, she had a giant pixy stick to finish. Damned if it would take her more than five minutes.