The Summer BBQ Open Closed

@Elena Jones *I apologize for the delay! Found myself a tad bit busy.

Boniface chuckled, nodding at her. "I like to present myself in dramatic ways. It makes me look interesting." It was the truth. He liked it because the fancier people thought you were, the more likely they were to be interested. There weren't studies to show that (he didn't know of any, at least), but it was his own personal theory. It had done him justice so far, so why quit when he was ahead?

He was a bit more laidback in this setting than he thought he would be. The professional vibe wasn't needed at the moment, so he allowed himself to breathe. He had been pint up a bit, still unsure of how to take some of the attention that he was receiving. He knew that it would happen, but he didn't realize that it would happen so fast.

Answering her question, he shrugged, responding with, "I've been locked away in Dunardry for far too long. It's high time I start interacting with people before the wizarding community makes their own death hoax about me." He was half-joking, half not. Part of him actually thought it would be funny if any of his former classmates were to present him with false news of his death. Dunardry wouldn't care, however. They'd bury it as soon as they'd bury him alive. Not that he minded so much. He didn't exactly have deep roots planted anywhere anymore.

Glancing back to Elena, he hit her with a follow-up question. "What about yourself, then? I mean, this is a camp for the students, so I can't really blame you. But what made you want to show up?" He wasn't particularly nosy. He was just curious about the student body. Who were these kids? What was their background? What could he expect? He wanted to know it all.

§

Interacting with @Boniface Murtagh MacTavish

[font=Book Antiqua]"Well it certainly succeeded." Elena nodded in approval. Looking fancy to make people interested was right up her alley, although she used a different person. It was easier to make people want to talk to you by looking interesting, oddly enough it made her more trustworthy, fit the archetype and you need never worry about scaring people.

"A death hoax? Well I do say that's one way to collect insurance money." Elena joked, "Although I'm sure someone would want to disprove it."

"Ah well! I showed up in this most lovely camp because I have crippling anxiety related to leaching off my friends. So instead of letting my dear friend take me away for the entirety of Summer I'm here where she and a few others have followed me." Elena hummed and smiled brightly, really offsetting the darkness of her words. That's this generation for you, "Long story short I have nowhere else to go and I'm scared that I'm leeching off the people who are close to me. But nobody really needs to know that so I'll move on to something more interesting, you doing anything on wand woods in your classes?"

Elena liked wandmaking, and woodcarving, and woods, and what woods did.[/font]

Doc's face lit up like a christmas tree as Zahid started asking questions about his daughter. The love for his child would always be the first thing Caradoc Browne was interested in. He turned away from his barbecue for a second to face the older man. "Cassanora is my pride and joy, Zahid. She's nine at the moment. Soon to be ten actually. I'm bringing her over to our house in Hogsmeade next week. That ought to be fun."

He grinned widely at his colleague. "She indeed has an interest in history, mythology and fantasy. Stories in general I believe." That must have been true. The realisation only struck Caradoc now that it was her interest in stories that got her hooked to lore. Fascinating really. He was sure she would do well.

Then his smile would wither as Zahid began asking after the book, Nora was teasing him about. He gave a long stare in the head of Slytherin's direction. He's eyes locking with hers as they almost screamed: Really?

The HoM professor mentioned braids. What? The old man had a book on braids? Caradoc quirked an eyebrow at his new friend. He could not help but allow a subtle smile curving on his face.
"Oh dear." He chuckled and shook his head as he buried his face in his hand.

Just as he was about to reply, or rather attempt to, Doc was approached by a young child with a seemingly unfamiliar face. This was not any of the student faces he had so ferociously attempted to memorize. "Aha. You must be one of our upcoming first years, correct? Came to the summer camp to have a little sniff of the magic already?" The head of Hufflepuff would have been smiling at the boy. He quickly placed a few sorts of meat on the boy's plate as he continued to adress him. "What might your name be young man? You look like a strong and tall fellow." He grinned.

@Bloom Silverton @Erin Ryan
@Phaedra Stavrou @Serena Towers @Reid Kovacs

Dymphna was one of those who hadn’t signed up for a cabin yet, hoping to share one with someone familiar. It was a shame that Bloom was already in a cabin but at the same time, perhaps it was for the best. She was still on the fence about talking about the whole Graduation Party ordeal.

“Wait, you’re rooming with Erin?” Her mouth fell open at that. Was this how her friends felt seeing her dance with the girl? Her nose scrunched up. She wasn’t sure how to feel. “She’s… not all bad, I suppose. Inquisitive. A decent conversationalist.”

There was much more to say about the school bully - how curious she seemed, a bit Ravenclaw-esque really. Dymph stood her ground though, not wanting to say much else on the matter. That might bring more attention to their conversation and their dance. Had Erin targeted her for a reason or would she have told anyone who would listen?

Time to focus on something else. “Scary how?” Dymphna wanted her summer to be anything but scary. She wanted a summer full of adventure! “I’m not sure who I’m rooming with yet. Serena sent an owl. She won’t be here until later.” She replied with a frown, “And I’m not sure if Phaedra will be allowed to come.” It was intentional to not mention Reid, though she already sent out the invite for her thirteenth birthday party. What would it say about their friendship if he didn’t show? Would things be awkward between them from now on?

Interacting with @Erin Ryan

"Congratulations, you are one of the beautiful people," said Erin.

Arc was not sure whether the girl was being a sarcastic about it or not, but he could only accept it politely. “Uuuh, again, I’ll take that as a compliment. Thank you. I guess.” Her mom always said that everyone was beautiful in their own way. In that sense, the Slytherin in front of him was right.

To be completely honest, the boy had heard of the name Erin Ryan. And her family name, if his memory served him right, was also a pure-blood family, just like the Perscivious. Arc was not one for rumor or gossiping, though. Most of them was a one-sided, often embellished, multiple retelling of the truth. It was just unreliable. Besides, there was a disconnect between what little rumors he had heard and the girl in front of him. Better to just find out about the girl the old-fashioned way. It was not often he got to talk to someone without the other party seemingly got a much better place to go. It had been a few minutes now and Erin Ryan was not fidgeting or giving any sign of running away. As the girl studied the boy, the boy studied the girl. She was interesting even without her pretty face.

"Yeah, let's hope not,” she responded. “But trouble has a way of finding me."

“Ah. Well. If that is so then I might have to tweak my hope a little. Ehem,” Arc cleared his throat before putting his right hand over his heart, “I hope you have the strength -and magic- to handle all the trouble that find their way to you. There. That should settle that problem,” he finished with a smile.

After the young Prefect asked and reminded Erin of the wound on her stomach, she answered and lifted her blouse. With genuine academical interest, Arc moved closer and examined the wound on her midsection. There was a fresh red mark there. It hadn’t been completely healed. She certainly should not be swinging yet. What surprised the boy most was not that, though. It was the other, older wound. Trouble did seem to have a way of finding her.

“Um. You shouldn’t be swinging with that kind of wound.” He said as she brushed her blouse downward. “But, if you really can’t stop…then just don’t overdo it. If trouble does find you again and I’m around to help, please, don’t hesitate to ask. I’m sure you’re stronger than me and can handle things on your own. But I have my own forte.”

She looked around at other students for a while and Arc was about to ask her another question, but she beat him to the punch. "I am more interested in you Arc, heard you were a Prefect." Erin extended her hand and played with the collar of his shirt. Um. What was she trying to fix? "Exceptional really, a first... well second now year...being such a standout." The boy never felt he was a standout. Well, at least not in a good way. But it might have been a little odd for a first year to be a Prefect. It was not against the rules, though. So, Arc couldn’t be sure. He hadn’t checked all the records of the past Prefects. Maybe it was not that uncommon?

"I would have thought it unusual, had it not been for your exceptional and exquisite nature, tell me a bit about yourself, I don't recognize your surname among the pure-blood families, it could only be your efforts and deeds, I find myself enamored with you."

Ah. Yes, she was enamored with him. Wait. What? “Well. Thanks. Again," said Arc slowly. He bought himself a few seconds to think. But he probably shouldn't think about it to much. There were some ways that word could be interpreted. And she probably just meant enamored like when you saw an interesting book. Or something. Better to just keep the conversation going. "I do find it a little unusual myself, to be honest. All the current Prefects are pretty young. I don't think that was the norm. But maybe it was just a new school policy or something. So, the older ones could focus more on their studies."

Arc touched his chin and lifted his eyes, trying to remember. "Truthfully, I don’t think I’m exceptional. A little more book-smart than others? Maybe. But certainly not by far. My academic average is O, but I know a couple people who have done even better in my house. Maybe knowing the school rules and not making troubles also help? Hm. I'm not really sure why I was chosen as well.” With a deep breath and a sigh, Arc continued. “As for my surname, the Perscivious is a pure-blood family, albeit less social than other pure-blooded families. I do know that my ancestor was in the Wizard’s Council, but much less so in the Wizengamot. I bet my crafty Grandfather is still doing things behind the scene." He was a Slytherin. Much like the young girl standing near him. But it was not wise to put people into boxes. They were completely two different people.

"I'm not very close to them, though. My father who was supposed to be the heir of the main family ran off with a muggle woman, my mom, so...yeah." The boy giggled a little as he got flashbacks about his father retelling their love story. "You? Tell me things about yourself. What's your favorite fruit? Any brothers or sisters?"

While Arc was viewed as a useful and attractive resource, her other interest in the boy was his possible connections. Prefect was a strange role here in Hogwarts, a designation given to students that should serve as examples to others and to help the Professors keep order. It was one of those roles that granted a child incredible freedom and authority, it was a statement of not only trust but also a testimony to their common mission and ability to uphold those standards. How could a relative unknown first-year with minuscule magical skill be trusted as an authority figure.

The answer was: they could not.

The boy went on about his average, an O being pretty much the standard in Ravenclaw she supposed. He was a half-blood, shame really there although she tried to hide her sense of distaste for muggle lineage on her face. All-in-all, mundane. 

"An E average," the boy was smarter than her as much as she loathed to admit. "Pure-blood," she added neglecting to mention her Veela mother. While they were considered to be 'magical' creatures that continued the pure-blood legacy in name there was a sense of shame in admitting that because they were not a wizard line. "My father is a researcher, my mother..." her voice trailed off. There was a woman that played the role of mother for the sake of society, what was it that she did again? "Runs a business in London," she lied unable to remember so she decided to keep the statement vague. "Not particularly interesting lot," she lied but she was deflecting away from her family tree. "My younger brother Geoffrey is likely here someplace," she craned her neck to look around. Unless he returned on the earlier train, she thought to herself. "I usually look for the group of girls vying for his attention," she sighed. That boy took every ounce of his charm and beauty and used it to his advantage despite dressing like some eccentric noble (his FC is Ceil Phantomhive).

Enough about her or her brother, especially her brother who would probably hit on the Ravenclaw and possibly succeed if given the chance, so away from that subject. "Do you know the deal with..." how can she phrase 'the mass kidnappings and death witches' in a non-accusatory fashion? "How small my class year is?" It was a work around, not as clear or as direct as she would like but she did not want to shut him down either. She was of course referencing the fact that there were twice as many in his class as there were in Erin's, however at the start of the year both hers and his class started with so many more. Without a word or a trace they seemed to disappear into the fog. "Could have sworn we had, well... a lot more people than we presently have." She continued.

Erin had no knowledge of Arc's run in with the giant and the hang kidnapping poor, sweet, innocent Rosie. Oddly enough Arc had the answer to her inquiry but Erin did not know the question to ask. Yes, she was aware that there were students missing, she erroneously generalized it to every absent student was associated and those that returned shared the fate of the missing which created this paranoid fiction in her brain that was only worsened by the dhampir's influence when he gave a name to an unrelated threat created in the overactive imagination of a youth -- death-witches. Erin had come to believe that the Prefects and the Professors were in on it, after all -- a missing person is worth notice.

"It is as if they came in and snatched a portion of the student body away," she concluded. She made a mistake with that last phrase, used the word they, giving the disappearance a human (or inhuman) cause.

Interacting with @Catriona Staverly

As Catriona started to gape while Meenauh was speaking, the Gryffindor girl decided to halt not to impress the poor girl too much. Her shy conversant was keeping silence for a while before stating Meenauh was right. Not quite an answer Meenauh expected, but it was steady, sturdy and sincere. That was the most important.

Meenauh looked at her plate, which was already empty and agreed to herself she had enough. It was still morning and she didn't plan to stuff herself up for the whole day. A good portion of the protein was really a nice boost at the perfect time, though. 

Meenauh thought of Hogwarts' Kitchen house-elves and whether they had a chef. Who came up with the meal composition? Who approved the dishes? Who was responsible for the goods delivery? Did they use only what grew in the nearby lands? She was now a writer in the Hogwarts Headliner, the school's newspaper, so maybe she could interview the house elves?

She shook her head, stood up and addressed Catriona:

"I think I'm done here and I need to head back to the cabin. I've had a lot of new information today, which I have to process before the next day is born. So, I guess, see you around? You can search for me in the cabin, it's really close to the entrance."

She waved at the girl, went to the food table to place the plates back, and slowly headed to their cabin to dig through her belongings a bit and talk to the girls.

Open to any interaction

Being late was not something Angellica was proud of, but it seemed to have become an ongoing theme with the blonde. Between filling her calendar with as many activities as she possibly could without requiring a time turner, and not quite knowing how to present herself, she was seemingly late to most social functions. It was different from helping others, or doing something planned. It required a certain amount of preparation. Outfits, stacking ideas of what to discuss, there were so many variables, and the overthinking Ravenclaw always felt a bit displaced. Of course the whole point of these situations was to remedy that, so there she was, arriving with a backpack with a few books in case she didn't find anyone to talk to, a tube top with a tank paired with a cute pair of jean shorts. Hair in tousles of blonde locks, she let them fall over her shoulders in a boho chic manner. The brown of her sandals picked up by the accents of her cream bag.

With a small shy smile she nodded towards a few people she recognized, unsure whether to interrupt or not. Rather than focus she spotted the table which held a variety of barbecue items. There seemed to be a lack of meat, but she could deal. Putting a few items on a plate, she at least had her hands free. With a hand she rose her rose sunglasses back, keeping locks from falling in her food. Though not completely out of the way, she stood on the outside looking in, unsure how to act. This past year had come with so much learning and new experiences, she was still mulling it all over.

"An E average, pure-blood. My father is a researcher, my mother...runs a business in London, not particularly interesting lot. My younger brother Geoffrey is likely here someplace, I usually look for the group of girls vying for his attention," said Erin.

“Well, I must say I have to disagree. They sound like an interesting bunch.” Arc truly wanted to hear more about them. The kid especially perked up when he heard the word research. But he could take a hint. And he would not pursue any further if it would make the girl uncomfortable. “But you know them better than I do, so… And I would love to meet your brother sometimes. He sounds hilarious.”

The girl visibly steered the subject away after that. "Do you know the deal with...how small my class year is? Could have sworn we had, well... a lot more people than we presently have. It is as if they came in and snatched a portion of the student body away."

“Huh.” Was she trying to make a joke? Should he laugh? Arc looked directly at the girl’s two eyes. It was mesmerizing. This close, it was almost hard to pick which one of her eyes he wanted to focus on. Uh. Focus. He should just settle on her right eye. Wait. Was she serious about this? “That is…even more interesting.” The boy put his left knuckle in front of his chin, a habit he always did when he was thinking. She had his curiosity before, but now she had her attention. “Are you sure, Erin? They are gone? Like gone gone? Not just, I don’t know, went home or something? They might also take different classes than you are.”

At first, he was just going to indulge the girl. Erin was bringing up a silly notion. But then something crept up on him. Something sinister in the back of his mind. Students were missing? Gone? Kidnapping? Could this be related to what happened at the Blossom Ball? Arc could feel his heart started racing just by being reminded by the event. “Wait. Erin. If this was true, then this was something serious. Have you ever asked a professor about this?” Then the dark-haired boy realized the phrasing the Slytherin had used. "They? Who is 'they'? Did-did you meet one of those half-giants as well?"

Halden nodded. “Yes, Mister, my parents thought it a good idea to send me here early. They are very busy and I was… uh.” He paused to find a better word for ‘excited’ since it seemed so childish but he quietly chided himself, he was just a child, after all, so he continued, “ I was excited to see the school and the magic.” He held forward his plate when Caradoc gave him the meat and thanked him before answering his questions. “My name is Halden Frostulf, son of Aleksander and Mare Frostulf, but you have probably never heard of them,” he said and shrugged. His family name and first name was Scandinavian but he had been born in London after his parents had decided to move closer to his mother’s side of the family. He knew no Danish, Norwegian or Swedish and considered himself mostly English. It had been his father who had grown up in the north, Aleksander had even gone to Durmstrang instead of Hogwarts. Though his father would tell him little about his time there, apparently they were really secretive about all of the information regarding the school.
“Mister, you are the Head of Hufflepuff, yes?” he asked, though the question was very unnecessary; he already knew the answer. He didn’t know why he’d asked, maybe it was because he felt a bit nervous. “I was just, uh… Wondering about the cabins. Do all of the students live in the cabins now, as it is just the summer camp, or do we live in the dorms?” Halden picked up a knife and a fork and held them in the other hand.