So, Nat, because I am a dork and I'm saving all of these posts between my characters and others, I have Fig's post that goes on page 5 that you lost or something...
yeah, I know I'm a dork. A dorky life saver.
A dorky life saver who will rescue you when you're not really in distress.
yeah, I know I'm a dork. A dorky life saver.
A dorky life saver who will rescue you when you're not really in distress.
Quote:
[ "U ] m…” Fig wasn’t quite sure what to tell Bailey, since basically everything Justin Gallagher did never really had a point or a reason. But Leigh had ruffled his curls, instantly making his face turning a light shade of red, but his ears were the color of tomatoes. Despite the fact that he was nervous, now that Leigh had messed with his infamous untamed brown hair, Fig put on a grin, letting out a laugh at Leigh. “I was talking about what Justin did, but yes. I did do that to Leigh's hair, Bailey.” Fig glanced down at Justin, who was now hugging Alice like they were a couple, saying something that he couldn’t quite understand. And he really didn’t wish to. Alice was so reoccupied with the male species these days that it almost made Fig a bit annoyed. Sure, she was a girl who was different in every way possible, but really. There were plenty of other wonderful girls out there than her. In a way, he felt bad for Rain, his older friend in Slytherin, since he was a bit head-over-heels for Alice. But even Fig was beginning to see that Rain and Alice weren’t really made for each other.
“Justin does whatever will please the crowd, really. If it is stupid, then Justin will do it.” Fig stated, chuckling as he looked toward Bailey beside him, and then to Leigh. But a few gasps from down the table to the right caught his attention, making his chocolate brown eyes shoot directly to Alice and Justin; Alice had just slapped mashed potatoes from her plate in Justin’s face, and then Justin did the same to her. And then Justin yelled, “FOOD FIGHT!”
He wasn’t afraid, but his thoughts instantly thought of Matt, and then the Weasley twins. Matt had actually gotten up on the table, and then George had started laughing. ‘Oh no.’ Shutting his eyes tight to prepare for what was going to be the talk for tonight in the common room, Fig kept on smiling, despite what was coming his way. Of course George had thrown applesauce on him, even if he was a few seats away down the table. He felt it hit him, and he let burst into laughter, as others around him had gotten his with George’s applesauce, too. Fred threw something at Lee. And then Fig had reached over to snatch a chicken leg and then stood up.
“You die, Weasley!” he exclaimed, an impish beam plastered on his face, his arm holding up the chicken leg, prepared to throw it at George for the applesauce now dripping on his clothes and on his face, too, for revenge. But a very familiar voice had struck fear from him, and he dropped the chicken leg immediately, letting it fall to the floor while his arm stayed in the air. Turning his head, he confirmed his suspicions as to who owned the voice: Professor McGonagall, the one teacher, besides Snape, that Fig was truly afraid of. He watched the woman lead Justin to the front, his chocolate brown eyes following him as he lowered his arm, trying not to let his smile come back. But he failed. A few snickers had erupted from behind his closed lips, sounding like a hiss. Fig sat back down in his seat, a bit disappointed that the food fight had ended before he could even throw anything. Which, now that he thought about it, this upset him very, very much.
“Ohhh, maaaan!” Fig groaned, propping up his elbows on the table before letting out a loud, exaggerated sigh, watching all the mess disappearing on the tables, “I was SO close to hitting you, George. SO. CLOSE.” But the grief for not getting his vengeance against his friend had not lasted long. As soon as dessert started sprouting up, Fig’s grin instantaneously came back. “Yesssss!“ he said, beginning to stock up on pudding on his plate, and then taking a huge bite that could barely even fit in his mouth
“Justin does whatever will please the crowd, really. If it is stupid, then Justin will do it.” Fig stated, chuckling as he looked toward Bailey beside him, and then to Leigh. But a few gasps from down the table to the right caught his attention, making his chocolate brown eyes shoot directly to Alice and Justin; Alice had just slapped mashed potatoes from her plate in Justin’s face, and then Justin did the same to her. And then Justin yelled, “FOOD FIGHT!”
He wasn’t afraid, but his thoughts instantly thought of Matt, and then the Weasley twins. Matt had actually gotten up on the table, and then George had started laughing. ‘Oh no.’ Shutting his eyes tight to prepare for what was going to be the talk for tonight in the common room, Fig kept on smiling, despite what was coming his way. Of course George had thrown applesauce on him, even if he was a few seats away down the table. He felt it hit him, and he let burst into laughter, as others around him had gotten his with George’s applesauce, too. Fred threw something at Lee. And then Fig had reached over to snatch a chicken leg and then stood up.
“You die, Weasley!” he exclaimed, an impish beam plastered on his face, his arm holding up the chicken leg, prepared to throw it at George for the applesauce now dripping on his clothes and on his face, too, for revenge. But a very familiar voice had struck fear from him, and he dropped the chicken leg immediately, letting it fall to the floor while his arm stayed in the air. Turning his head, he confirmed his suspicions as to who owned the voice: Professor McGonagall, the one teacher, besides Snape, that Fig was truly afraid of. He watched the woman lead Justin to the front, his chocolate brown eyes following him as he lowered his arm, trying not to let his smile come back. But he failed. A few snickers had erupted from behind his closed lips, sounding like a hiss. Fig sat back down in his seat, a bit disappointed that the food fight had ended before he could even throw anything. Which, now that he thought about it, this upset him very, very much.
“Ohhh, maaaan!” Fig groaned, propping up his elbows on the table before letting out a loud, exaggerated sigh, watching all the mess disappearing on the tables, “I was SO close to hitting you, George. SO. CLOSE.” But the grief for not getting his vengeance against his friend had not lasted long. As soon as dessert started sprouting up, Fig’s grin instantaneously came back. “Yesssss!“ he said, beginning to stock up on pudding on his plate, and then taking a huge bite that could barely even fit in his mouth
