That Girl is on FIRE [Marnie]

[Georgina Speer]

Cooking? She was actually doing something... productive? Shocks me to write this, but apparently she was - George was casually mixing up some delicious sugary thick batter for pancakes (or 'dropped scones', if you're the Queen's corgis). She would need a recipe, but she made them a lot at home, so making them off by heart was easy peasy squidgey squeegee. Om nom nom nom happy face.

She whipped the batter one final time before declaring it fini and dancing with it a little in the otherwise empty room, before it came to rest next to a hob. Her eyes lit up as much as the fire on the gas ring as it clicked to burning life in from of her very eyes, and she had to suppress the dark chuckle/giggle that almost came out.

George didn't have the longest hair, but she had been growing it out, so it was at a fair length by this point. Which was why it was so easy for the brunette strands to dangle cautiously over the ring of flames when she swiveled around to go hunt for a frying pan (God forbid that she would ever be actually organized). It seemed like she would just about avoid making herself into a walking bonfire, when her phone bleeped and she put the frying pan down on the work surface, resting against it as she checked her mobile device and consequently, setting her unprotected hair ablaze.

Believe me, I have no idea how she managed it either.

[Marnie Sullivan]

As afternoons went, Marnie thought, this one could certainly be worse. No track practice to worry about. No homework due the next day, what with tomorrow being Saturday and all. And the cafeteria was serving root beer floats with dinner! Not too shabby, right? As stressed out as she'd been lately, it was nice to have a decent day once in a while.

Rather than finish her float in the caf, Marnie opted to bring it with her on her way to the library - sure, there was no homework due tomorrow, but maybe she'd find a book or two she could skim through for that report coming up.

Her path to the library, however, led Marnie right past the home ec room. Throughout the day, the place would emenate smells that were inviting, or at least interesting, as students practiced their cooking. Usually not after classes, though. But that wasn't what gave Marnie pause as she strolled past the open door. It was the odor of... Was something burning?

Mostly curious but mildly concerned, she decided to peek into the classroom where -

"Oh my god your hair!" Marnie pointed uselessly at the flames climbing up the other girl's locks. She glanced around frantically - should she put it out? Would something else catch fire? Was there a bucket she could use? In her desperate search for something helpful, Marnie's eye caught the mostly-full cup of soda and ice cream in her hand.

"Hold still!" Without waiting for a reaction, she rushed forward and upended the contents onto the poor girl's head. Crisis averted... right?

[Georgina Speer]

((Excuse the language in this post <3))

Libraries were for boring sods with eyes. Functioning eyes. Eyes eyes baby.

Nah, George liked reading, some days. But other days, she liked doing practical stuff and prancing around like an idiot. She was very good at that. Like she was about to do in three... two... one-

Oh my god your hair!

George jolted, suddenly realising the increase in heat behind her, and almost dropped her phone. Instead, she did the great idea of throwing it onto a nearby surface, so it broke open and the battery came out. And then she began doing something vaguely reminiscent of an Indian war dance, "Ah, bloody fucking tit balls, shit shit shit shit...!" She looked for a solution to this predicament about as calmly as a headless chicken (and with about the same amount of sense as well).

And then she squeaked as she was coated in some fizzy drink.

She pulled off her beanie and gawped at it for a moment, caring more about her beloved accessory than her actual hair. "Crap crap crap crap..." The rolling curse words just kept coming, but mostly under her breath by this point. She ran over to a nearby sink and flinged it in before looping back around to the girl, dripping calories everywhere as she did. "Bloody cocking assery..." She looked at the brunette, someone she only vaguely recognised from walking around in the halls. "What the balls was that shit?" She asked none-too-politely. She would be fine with it, once she was certain her baby would be okay.

Bloody peasants and their peasant water.

[Marnie Sullivan]

Well, the fire was out, at least, but the party was clearly not over. Marnie watching, dancing anxiously from foot to foot as the girl flailed and swore.

"I'm - I'm - I'm sorry!" Marnie wailed in response to the - actually very colorful - cursing that was lobbed her way. Her hands went up defensively, as though she expected the Brit to strike her in retaliation. "But your hair, it, it was on fire, it was the first thing I could think of!"

Of all the responses Marnie had been expecting - not that she really had time to parse exactly what response she did expect - such hostility wasn't among them. Ha she really screwed up that badly? She was just trying to help!

Augh, maybe today wasn't so nice after all.

"Are... are you okay at least?" she asked, careful not to incite any further rage. "It's not bad, is it?"

[Georgina Speer]

George attempted to calm herself, trying to get the sensible, mature ~2% of her brain to wake up and kick in - because her mind was split into many varying sections, and the mature part was only minute. This should have been obvious.

Lucky for her, it worked.

She would never hit anyone for anything unless it was really serious, and this was not one of those situations. The worst she would or could do was swear continuously, which she had already demonstrated. The brunette with singed hair took a breath and then sighed it out, "Yeah, sorry," She chuckled a little, lightly, rubbing the back of her neck, "I'm just a little protective of my headgear." She wasn't afraid to admit that.

She sent the girl a slightly stiff, awkward smile as she turned around to turn off the stove for a moment, "Seems fine. I'm not hurt." She was yet to assess the damage, but seeing as it was behind her; "Can you tell me how bad it is? I can live with whatever." George didn't care too much. She made it so her back was facing the stranger.

What she couldn't see was that her hair was now about two thirds the length it was before, on average - the damage was irregular, but most of the strands were affected. And it didn't exactly look pretty.

[Marnie Sullivan]

Oh thank god, she was calming down, Marnie realized gratefully. Sure, it made perfect sense to freak out after getting lit up like a Yankee candle, but it's not like she'd been the one to catch the girl's hair on fire.

She would have to file away a couple of those swears for later, though.

When the girl turned and presented her hair for inspection, Marnie leaned in for a better look. It was... not in good shape, to put it kindly.

"Uh oh..." she muttered, frowning at the carnage - then, realizing she'd said it out loud, jerked up straight and continued hurriedly, "I mean, it's, it's not too bad, but you know what! I bet when you get it all trimmed up nice and neat you'll look great!"

Wait, crap.

"Nnnot that you didn't look great before!"

Crap!

"That is, I mean - " For gods sake, Marnie, if you wanted to accidentally hit on her you could've at least made a "smoking hot" joke or something!

"I could, uh, maybe wash your hat for you?" She offered an apologetic smile with the suggestion. "To make up for, y'know, dumping soda on your head."

[Georgina Speer]

George’s emotions could really be a rollercoaster sometimes, but that was how she was. Her spirit animal probably was a rollercoaster. If rollercoasters were animals. Was there a rollercoaster animal?

She was getting to the deep questions and it was barely three in the afternoon. Maybe a little after that. She hadn’t checked the time in a while, and her phone… oh balls. She could fix that in a sec.

Uh-oh? Well that was fucking promising. George wasn’t too fussed, but she was going to have to walk around like this for a while. She didn’t want to look like a clown or something. The awkward stammerings were cute though. She interrupted her, “It’s fine. As long as I don’t look like a bloody troll, don’t worry about complimenting what’s not worth complimenting.”

She shook her head, “Thanks for the offer, but I’ll pass. I’ve screwed up enough in the past, and I have a lot of hats. I know exactly how to fix this.” Maybe she should thank her… OH PANCAKES. “You hungry at all? I was just about to make dropped scones when I turned into a bonfire.” Dropped scones, hello Queen George, how would you like your marmalade? Buttnugget.

[Marnie Sullivan]

"Y'know what, I bet if you braided it nobody would even notice." Hey, it wasn't a compliment, right? Marnie was just having a hard time shutting off the helpful suggestion valve.

"Dropped, uh, scones?" she repeated, eyebrows furrowing uncertainly. Was that a British thing? Marnie knew what scones were, or at least what Starbucks called scones, but that was a new one. "Thanks, but I actually just had dinner, so..." She didn't want to mention it, but the lingering scent of burning hair was rather unappetizing. But, oh hell, the girl was just being nice after she'd gone and dumped a mostly full float all over her. "...So I'll just try one. Don't have room for much more."

Hey, for all she knew dropped scones were delicious, Marnie thought as she reminded herself to get a grip.

"So, your accent," she began lamely, in an effort to stave off awkward silence. "Where are you from?"

Don't ask about Harry Potter, don't ask about Harry Potter, she's probably heard it a million times, don't ask about Harry Potter!