Thread: Butterbeer Cart
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Old 12-20-2021, 05:28 AM   #32 (permalink)
Felixir
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Hogwarts RPG Name:
Kamran Kazmi
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Angelo Milano Evans
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SPOILER!!: M&M&M
Quote:
Originally Posted by Cassirin View Post
"Suki!" Mercer happily put a pinch of salt from her offered handful and stuck it in his mouth. Not butterbeer-adjacent, and not really a snack at all. His face puckered, but he continued like he hadn't even noticed. "You know... this guy?" He jerked his head toward the other boy. The one who knew about dead people.

Maybe everyone was an expert on dead people but him. Suki spoke about spectres and spirits like they visited her all the time, and this guy here knew about the dead witch of the butterbeer stand (DWotBS). And then there was Mercer, who had NEVER met a ghost and wasn't even haunted a little bit. Life was truly unfair.

"It's probably very sad, though. That she died here and people see her face when all they want is potted cream." It almost made him sad, but Mercer was untouched by tragedy in his short life, and he didn't really know how to feel sad about something THAT sad. He glanced at the boy's stocking feet and felt a certain way about that, at least.

"I'm Mercer."
Quote:
Originally Posted by sweetpinkpixie View Post
Was she cross that her Little Spectre had not accepted her salt offering? Perhaps a little, but she also was aware that their auras resonated differently around the slow accumulation of ectoplasm and maybe he did not require the particular cleansing at the moment. Mercer, however, would always need it. She just had a feeling that he was like a magnet for bad energies and should probably just shower in salt each morning before starting the day.

"We light a candle for grandmother sometimes or leave food offerings," she nodded in confirmation. It was always the summer trip during August back to Japan for such traditions, grandpa insisted upon it and it was nice to get to see Uncle Ryu while they were over there too. She glanced down as her non-Mercer companion freed himself from...what had he called them...feet prisons? Feet prisons. She mentally shrugged it off and instead turned her attention back to her fellow kelpie hunter.

"I do. He is a friend." And she called him her Little Spectre but that was private. "So it would be convenient if we all could be friends and share a compartment and boat on September first." Just planning ahead a bit so she wasn't left behind by her more easily sociable siblings. "It is only sad if you assign it to be. The sadder thing would be that what happened here is forgotten and she too." She paused a moment, pensive as she looked at the old witch's photo and then left a little pile of salt in front of it. "Perhaps people who do not wish to respect her memory do not deserve potted cream."

Milo looked between the other two, lifting up onto his socked toes and back down again a couple of times, blinking hard. He said nothing, but tried to piece all this together about what or was not sad about the dead butterbeer witch who may or may not be interred in her own butterbeer cart. "Probably," he repeated, eyeing the cart again, and then the photo. They stood photos on coffins sometimes, not that he'd ever been to see one in person. "Perhaps."

He resumed his silence for another moment or two, watching Mitsuki pour some of her salt onto the cart, a little pile as white as snow. Then he turned back to the... Mercer, and Milo tilted his head a little to study the Mercer from an angle, almost out of the corner of his eye. "Hello Mercer. Are we friends?" Rose and Papo Jake would be happy, but Milo didn't mind either way, had not even been aware of his friendship with Mitsuki, was not familiar with the sensation in general, and didn't have another point of reference. He looked at Mitsuki next, and pushed up onto his toes again, and balanced on his purple foot. "The cosmos recommends criminal activity."
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