Kiss & Tell Booth Open 3/4

Co-hosting with @Madhup Hexum

Dee leaned into Mad's side easily, then nodded along to the animated explanations of his vision for their booth. The heap of crimson velvet nearby earned a raised eyebrow; she wouldn't have been surprised if she'd spotted the massive chandelier from their tent somewhere around here as well, but it seemed that Mad had stopped at that. As adorable as her boyfriend's enthusiasm for carpentry was, however, they were running out of time. The expo was open for visitors, and Dee had made sure to direct anyone with questions here as well - it'd be some mix of their joint booth and an info stand, depending on what their customers required.

"That's lovely, babe," she commented distractedly, then gestured slightly with her wand. She had a pretty good idea of what he was planning at that point, but it still... had a way to go until it got there. "Do you mind if I just..." And one spell and half a minute later, Mad's booth skeleton had turned into a fully developed cabana, ready for visitors whenever they'd come, lavish and glittering in red and gold. "That about what you had in mind?" Dee asked with a cheeky smile, knowing full well that her casual use of spells was one of the easiest ways in her repertoire to impress her boyfriend. "The signs are a nice touch, I love those. But was there anything left of our tent?"

She giggled when Mad pulled her closer, more than a little smug about his stunned reaction, then turned around with a fake pout when she was in no uncertain terms told to sit - like she was a dog or something - but a smile tugged on her lips, betraying her. Headstrong and independent to a fault, it was rare that anyone took care of Dee... or that she'd allow them to. Small moments like this made warmth well up inside her, made her realise just how safe she felt with Madhup. "We're going to be spending the rest of the day kissing other people, and you're not even going to give me a proper kiss now?" she asked impishly, ignoring her designated beanbag to wrap her arms around Mad's waist instead, and pressed a playful kiss to his jaw. "Could give people a little demonstration of what we're offering? The only thing I want to be appropriating is you, anyway."

Not too much of a demonstration, though, and Dee let go after a moment with a wink and sauntered over to grab a glass of water from the hydration station before flopping down into one of the beanbag chairs. "Okay," she announced cheerfully. "I'm ready."

F I N N E G A NxC O N N O R
omnes magni homines primum fuerunt pueri

❶ ❷ ❸ ❹ ❺ ❻ ❼
─────────✫
stat relevant x2 | muggle condition | lovely creature

Finnegan bolted past a ring toss booth, chased by angry voices. “Ty trup, blyat!” You're dead! He didn't understand a word of it as he ducked under someone's arm. Probably something about his face and what they were going to do with it. “Ty chto, sovsem yebanuty, melkiy?” Are you totally nuts, runt? All those suicide runs into the box during football finally counted for something. Legs pumping, he knocked a girl's cotton candy out of her hand, shouted "sorry!" over his shoulder, cut left past a greasy corn dog stand, vaulted over a low rope, dashed through a queue at the Ferris-Wheel, nearly tripped over a goblin in a pinstripe suit, and— “Begi, begi, ya tebya poymayu, urod!” Run, run, I'll catch you, you (little) freak Still going? The durmstrang teenager and his mates, who looked like they bench-pressed schoolbusses for fun, had no intention of giving up their pursuit. He wasn't sure which part had riled them up more, the football that hit one of them in the face, or the fact that he'd laughed about it instead of apologising. “Shket!” brat! A grubby hand grazed his shoulder. He wheeled around so fast that his ankle almost gave out at the sharp change of direction. He jumped the low fence surrounding the Beast-go-Round, slipped through a sea of arms and legs before he emerged on the other side, panting and gasping for air like a man washed ashore. Still he heard their stomping feet behind him, still they gave chase, still they spat their filth at him. No matter how fast his feet pounded the ground, as soon as he hit the open field, they gained on him. Like wolves chasing down a hare the pack closed in around him and if the Quidditch Stadium entrance had popped into view a heartbeat later, he would've been knocked over and flattened into a pancake. Instead, Finnegan dropped low and slid underneath the event barrier at the entrance, painting a long, brown-green smear from his ankle up to his thigh. Scrambling like a startled cat he clawed his way back up to his pins and, near tripping over his own feet, dashed onto the pitch. He was getting tired. His reedy frame was built for short, dashing sprints, not for marathons, and the Russian teens still hadn't given up. Panicked, he searched his surroundings for an escape. Where to? Instinctively he raced toward the wonky rows of small booths, bobbing and weaving between the small tents in his umpteenth attempt to throw them off. There! A tent of crimson and gold drapes, his house colours, so probably safe, right? His legs and lungs were burning. There just wasn't any time to think on it. Finn burst through the tent opening, oblivious to its purpose and its occupants, and in a single motion pressed his back up against the fabric wall. His gaze was fixed on the tent opening, peering past the flaps with a wild look in his eyes. Please run on, please run on... Sweat itched near his hairline, dripped down his spin and, pooled at the waistband of his shorts. “Ya tebya dogonyu, suka!” I'll catch you, b****! Finnegan shrivelled at the harsh sounding Russian, squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation of pain while he leaned away from the tent opening. Instead, the sound of angry footsteps and more guttural Russian faded away. Finnegan puffed his cheeks, let out a sigh of relief and opened his eyes again. He saw the beanbags first, arranged into a semicircle around a little table. The second thing he noticed was the pitcher of water on it and then, finally, he noticed the two people in the tent. A boy and a girl- Standing suspiciously close to one another- Like they had just been... “Whu...” At least they still had their clothes on. For one mortified second all five foot four of him remained frozen to the spot. Then, his limbs acted before his brain did. He leapt forward, but this time his legs failed him and instead of jumping over the table and escaping the private tent through the other side, he crashed into it and landed together with the pitcher on the floor. “Ow!” said the sad pile of watered, skinny limbs on the floor. Followed by a croaked “Dee?” He drew up one knee to his chest, rubbing it where he had bumped it against the table. “Hi Dee! Sorry! Uhm... I didn't see anything? Please don't turn me into something unnatural...*”

@Dealla Prince @Madhup Hexum | Veni, vidi, vici 19/08/2025Summer Camp 25'

@Madhup Hexum and @Dealla Prince

[ @Finnegan Connor ]

┏		┓
	"But was there anything left of our tent?" Mad had been glowing over the praise for his handmade signs, which had eaten into his prep time significantly, though he sighed as he griped "Your creepy boy friend would not let me borrow the chandelier." Despite suspicious looks he endured from Pericles, Mad had begrudgingly learned not to heckle the other Ravenclaw as much, the hard way. "But this is good, yeah? Good seats, good lighting...." Dee's arms wove around his waist, Mad's hands came to cradle her face, admiration and attraction synonymous in his eyes. "...good company...." He was so lost in her proposition that he failed to grasp the subtle tease. Before Mad had time to remember the word for Apparition, Dee's lips locked with his, coaxing his perplexed frown into a satisfied smirk. Even when they took their own seats, the tension left crackling in the air set an alarming stage for the arrival of a stowaway. His initial reaction was annoyance, that of a flamboyant bird which spent too much time perfecting its nest only to have a squirrel trundle through it. His sensible response was sympathetic. After six years of being a legendary nuisance, Mad knew better than most what a mob of pissed off Durms sounded like. Finn might think himself caught for a moment when a Russian voice drawled from within the cabana, "Ты в порядке You good my boy?" He shoved himself up and stepped over the toppled table. Durmstrang's Chaser stood barely an inch taller than the Gryffindor, though his facial hair and biceps- roughly the circumference of Finnegan's thighs- suggested he was older. If he was doing anything remotely close to what Finn assumed he was doing with Dee Prince, he was an adult. Mad reached to grab a handful of shirt and haul Finn to his feet, expositioning as he did so. "This booth is not for hiding. It is for kissing, advice, water, or chewing gum. We are now out of water and gum," he emphasized at the Droobles soup sinking into the rug, "and you don't look like you came for a kiss. You want me to teach you to break a nose, or maybe naughty Russian words to call your new friends?" Laughter danced in his eyes as he tried to dust off grass and debris, wondering if he'd been hexed by Dee before.
┗		┛

[ Presumably in the not-so-distant future with @Maria Leung de Almeida ]

┏		┓
	Madhup favored quality clothes disguised as grunge, punkish in design yet pristine in make. These were the mark of one who grew up with tastes that always exceeded his wallet. To go from a childhood of bare necessity, to a young adult of immense means, resulted in a curious devotion to fashion. Everything about his look was tailored to serve as a statement, from his perfect hair to his gaudy rings: Look at me. I made it. Mad took pride in placing care into his appearance, weaving the story of his past, present, and personality into his occasionally bombastic style. When a dark rain cloud seemingly floated into their booth, the first thing he took note of was her fashion statement. Before he could dissect it, the Durmstrang student issued a low impressed whistle. Glam recognized glitz. But what was her wardrobe trying to say? Life's short, have fun and look good before you're a rotting husk? It was a morbid vibe Madhup could get behind, and at least she had the aesthetic to back it up. With an inviting pat to the beanbag between them, he called through the open front: "Privet Hello little bat! Come in, before the sun melts you."
┗		┛

@Finnegan Connor

Or, well, she'd been planning to saunter over to grab a glass of water from the hydration station, but fate, it seemed, had different plans. Instead, the pitcher landed on the floor along with the glasses, the table tipped over, and sprawled among it was one thoroughly hydrated Finnegan Connor.

Dee blinked, slightly dazed by the dramatic entry, then quirked an eyebrow at her boyfriend suddenly switching to Russian. Wait - wait. She knew those words. Or she should. A few weeks of Russian lessons, and she'd mostly learned how to cuss. Thinking of it, she'd definitely recognised some of the words angrily shouted outside their cabana a few moments ago. "Finn?" she asked, bemused, leaning to the side to peek past Madhup as he hauled Finn to his feet by his shirt. Her lips twitched slightly. "Define unnatural. Is a ferret acceptable?"

While Mad started to lecture him on what they offered at this booth, and, barring water and gum, his remaining options, Dee bounced closer to squint at the moderately drenched Gryffindor. "Please no nose punching, he'd probably get murdered if he tried," she muttered, before giving Finn a level stare. "I thought you were gone." Whether that meant transferred, or eaten by hags was not quite clear. "Did you spend the time finding someone who finally brewed you a Growth Potion?" She lifted her hand to be level with the top of his head, then moved it over to herself. "I swear you used to be tiny."

After a moment of consideration, Dee slipped her wand from her pocket, and pointed it at Finn's chest. Not to hex him, or transfigure him, though. "Aer Calidus." The warm air blasting from her wand tip was likely strong enough to force the skinny Gryffindor back a step (or two, with 36 Wis, 29 Arc - 33 Acc if you want to try dodging ), but would also do a solid job drying his clothes within seconds. "I'll leave the advice giving on this one to Mad," she added, turning towards the mess on the floor. He was more experienced with this particular predicament. "Unless you change your mind about that kiss." Would Reparo be able to save the pitcher and glasses? She frowned slightly. "What were they after you for, anyway?"

@Maria Leung de Almeida

A quick and sloppy Aguamenti (Wis 24) refilled the water in their pitcher, and Dee turned around with very high expectations when Mad titled their next customer little bat... and was not disappointed.

In stark contrast to her boyfriend, Dee had never been much into fashion - her style could mostly be described as simple, cute, and primarily casual, with few accessories and her hair in messy waves. (The only reason she had a decent hair routine was that @Aly Salinger had gently but firmly bullied her into it. Dee loved her for it.) She had started putting a bit more effort into her appearance after meeting Mad - outfits chosen with more care, the occasional touch of eyeliner and lipgloss, subtle rings and less subtle bracelets. (Only on her left hand. She needed her right for casting.)

It was immediately obvious, however, that she was outclassed by their visitor. The little bat might as well have been a stormcloud, more likely to blot out the sun than be melted by its rays. Dee watched her enter the tent with a certain amount of fascination - what sort of construction was that dress? "Yes, come in!" she chimed in. "Take a seat, and then tell me if and how you managed to put that dress on by yourself." She let herself drop gracefully into her own beanbag, leaving the one in the middle free. She winked at the girl. "What can we do for you?"

@Dealla Prince and @Madhup Hexum

F I N N E G A NxC O N N O R
omnes magni homines primum fuerunt pueri

❶ ❷ ❸ ❹ ❺ ❻ ❼
─────────✫
stat relevant x2 | muggle condition | lovely creature

“Wha—” What happened next wasn't Madhup's fault, not really. When the squat teenager grabbed a fistful of damp shirt, Finnegan proved lighter than air. Newton and Physics had a thing or two to say about it all, but it boiled down to this: Finnegan smashed his nose on some steely part of Madhup before he was once against sent sprawling backward like he'd just hit a trampoline. This time though, he didn't hit the ground. Instead, his fingers had searched, and found, the nearest solid object and dug into it like a kitten clawing at the curtains. It would be little more than pinpricks to someone of Madhup's make, but there would be little half moon negatives on thatt arm for a few minutes afterwards at least. It could have ended there, the villain dangling the hero over the cliff's edge, someone could've hit the clapboard and shouted 'cut!', it would've been sound business to go to commercials on the cliffhanger, but the camera kept rolling. Madhup had made another mistake. He had opened his mouth and said something in Russian. Now those kitten claws dug into him real hard, and the bewildered eyes looking up at him widened further. The unfortunate effect of that language was two-fold. One, Finnegan was certain he'd just fled Russian coyotes only to be picked up by a Russian bear. Two, he didn't understand a word of it and so his imagination ran wild. Oh, he'd done it now, he was toast for sure. Unless he could sink his teeth into that meaty arm and— This booth is not for hiding. It is for kissing, advice, water, or chewing gum. We are now out of water and gum. “What?” he squeaked, more confused than ever. Nothing Madhup said next managed to wipe the clear confusion from his face and he hardly noticed he was being dusted off. Dee's voice snapped him out of his reverie, enough to stand up straight again anyway, but still no less confused. "Define unnatural. Is a ferret acceptable?" “Did Eve tell you that?” Came the answer, a bit too quicklly and a bit too hotly considering that Dee's mercy, in his mind at least, was his only lifeline out of this predicament. "Please no nose punching, he'd probably get murdered if he tried" He just scowled at that, he wasn't twelve anymore, he could stand his ground! The scowl turned into a kind of scoff when she measured her height against his, though he was rather pleased to note that the difference had all but vanished. “I'm not tall,” he said, knowing all too well how hard he lagged behind his peers, “you're just little.” There, revenge. Not served cool unfortunately, delivered with more of a lopsided grin and a twinkle in the eye. That too didn't last very long though. Something about having a wand pointed at his chest while all escape routes were blocked by a hunk of meat managed to melt his smugness in two seconds flat. The spell hit with such force that he was forced back two paces. “Fucking hell Dee,” he cussed while he blinked furiously against the hot, dry air she had just hit him with. “You could've warned me...” No sooner than he had patted down his shirt and stuck-up hair, Dee went back to talking about kissing. Honestly, she might just as well have cast a transfiguration spell on him because he turned a marvelous shade of red real fast. “K-kiss?” he croaked, sounding alarmed. It was back to confusion now, garnished with panic and desperation. What on earth was she on about? They were both in on some joke that continued to go over his head, weren't they? No matter how hard he tried, he could not make heads or tails out of what was being suggested here. “Uhhh....” This was the third time since he'd entered this tent that he was flailing. "What were they after you for, anyway?" The opportunity to change subject was gratefully seized upon. “Oh, uh, nothing,” he shrugged. That might've worked on his mum, but it wasn't likely to work here, and perhaps sensing as much, he elaborated a but more. “I hit one of them in the head with my football, not on purpose mind.” Well, not entirely anyway. He cast a quick glance at Madhup again, and then something dawned on him, a flicker of recognition. Was this... could it be...? He squinted. “Are you... ” he took a step closer to Madhup, examining the Durmstrang teen from head to toe. “No way! Dee! When were you gonna tell me you were dating a Quidditch star? You're Hexum, aren't you? I've seen you!” He was grinning from ear to ear now. “You're a bit of a legend. You did know that, right Dee? He's almost as good a Chaser as me...”

@Dealla Prince @Madhup Hexum | Veni, vidi, vici 19/08/2025Summer Camp 25'

[ @Maria Leung de Almeida ]

┏		┓
	Mad warded off the self-identifying biter with upheld hands, muttering something about being behind on his rabies shots. As the bat settled between them, he propped his chin on his palm, appraising their strange company with silent fascination. She seemed to survive life's darker angles by embracing them, wearing masochism like a kind of armor. The flash of rose on her cheeks insinuated a softer side below it all. Unable to resist an endeared grin, Madhup spoke with a playful lilt. "It will be hard to make that hurt unless we bite. Maybe you take a break from the suffering with us? Try new things." His arm stretched behind her to take Dee's hand, using a split-second pause to catch her stare with a final question. Seeing no traces of doubt, jealousy or hesitation, his lips curled into a trusting smile. The couple closed their eyes and pressed a warm kiss against Maria's cheeks, enveloping her in a tender moment. The closest thing to pain she'd feel was the tickle of a seventeen-year-old's excuse for a mustache.
┗		┛

[ @Finnegan Connor ]

┏		┓
	In a bizarrely tangled interaction, Madhup managed to fumble the teenager. Both were reaching and grabbing, outstretched arms and grasping hands intertwined, fists closed over fabric and nails sunk into skin. His nostrils flared from the pain sent arcing up his forearms, forcing him to squint with the effort of sustaining a straight face. A clenched jaw made his Russian all the more menacing- all the more easily interpreted as a threat. As soon as he was freed from those desperate claws, Mad rubbed at the lingering crescents, trying to "buff out" the blemish before it left an unsightly bruise. He'd snickered at the gangly boy being blown like a leaf in the wind, but just as soon snorted when he called Dee short. "Don't be sad for being small, malyshka babe. It makes you harder to hit." Evidently amused at the expense of most anyone, he rolled his eyes on hearing a football was what set the pack of Durms off. "They will not forgive you until they have blood," he sighed, tacking on a tut of pity. Finn was doomed. "But if Dee says no punching-" Mad's wrists interlocked into imaginary handcuffs "-you will have to hide. Bury your football. Let Dee magic your hair." Whoever this kid was, he was saying all the right things. Not only had he seen Madhup's games, he went on to call him a Quidditch Star and even a legend. The string of compliments seemed to swell his head so much that the Durm's selective hearing omitted the "almost as good a Chaser as me” tidbit. He faced Dee as he very seriously announced, "I could kiss him just for that." Before Finn could stammer over the reoccurring threat, his fellow Chaser casually switched gears again. "You play Quidditch, ferret? Which team?" He didn't have the houses memorized exactly. In Madhup's mind, Hogwarts was comprised of Ravenclaw, Snakes, Yellow, and the only certifiably rad house with the best mascot and colors, but a name one enunciated by pretending to gargle and spit out rocks. His nonchalant sentence structure slipped into the subjunctive as he offered, "You want I should sign something?"
┗		┛

[ @Emilie Towers ]

┏		┓
	Queue the eventual arrive of a tiny girl with red cheeks and watery eyes. All she had to do to utterly endear The Boy was enter the cabana, but the praise she blurted, and the shocked way in which she clasped her mouth, sent a hook through Mad's heart then yanked. She was adorable and acknowledged what a specimen he was. Pressing a palm to his chest, the Quidditch player's head lulled back as he fawned in mumbling Russian. "Bozhe moy. Pust' u nas budet takaya zhe kak ona...." Oh my god. May we have one just like her. He composed himself with a shining smile and voice an octave or so higher than the one he used to charm the general public. "And you have the most beautiful curls I have ever seen! But why are your eyes so sad, Printsessa? Are you not having a good day at the fair?" Shifting back in his bean bag, Mad motioned towards the empty seat between himself and his girlfriend, implying she could leave all her troubles there, or at least get a pair of shoulders to cry on.
┗		┛

[ @Dealla Prince ]