Making a Mess

[Elias Grimstone]

It was not that Elias was opposed to the concept of leisure activities, of fun and relaxation. It just so happened that a lot of what Elias did that constituted itself as fun was to prove to other people that he did do things other than tinker with broomsticks all day.

...Admittedly, he'd originally visited the library in London to do some work-related research on the reference floors. With the World's Fair coming to the country, and inventions of all kinds to be showcased, Elias was tossing broomstick-related ideas about in his brain, and he'd had to look up a thing or two.

After that, though, he was as free as a bird, and had wound up sauntering into Fudge & Son's. A few minutes later, a large scoop of ice cream in a waffle shell in one hand, Elias edged his way away from the counter, glancing around and trying to decide between taking a table and continuing on his way as he ate. Not yet having come to a decision, he was forced to awkwardly step out of another customer's way, and lifted his ice cream a little higher out of the way.

What he hadn't noticed was that the ice cream in his grasp was beginning to tip: in fact, he only looked back at it just in time to see a large, melting lump of the scoop fall directly onto the head of someone seated at one of the desserterie's tables. Wide-eyed and momentarily paralysed, Elias' first, fervent thought was that maybe they hadn't noticed?

  

[Lucy Hinton]

Lucy really spent precious little of her money on her own things, as most of it went to her family. With that said, though, she felt very little guilt over getting ice cream for herself on occasion, because frankly sometimes the urge to selfishly spend was too much. Particularly in summer, and particularly when the thing she wanted was sweet and cold.

Though she did prefer to eat ice cream, rather than wear it. Lucy let out what might have been a bitten off shriek as something cold landed on her head. And then dripped down through her hair.

  

[Elias Grimstone]

Judging by the sound she emitted, she had definitely noticed. Elias stared down in horror, wishing there was some convenient spell with which to undo his last action. She might not yet have noticed him, from which way she was facing, so he was gripped by the cowardly urge to steal away from the scene, hop to it and stride off before anyone could call him out -

He'd already unconsciously lowered what remained of the ice cream in his hand until it was sort of behind his back, but that really wasn't going to work. Although he glanced longingly out towards the street, another customer had caught his eye, and, with a burst of shame he didn't think he had ever felt so strongly since the days of being caught in a lie as a child, Elias winced aloud. "Oh no - I'm - sorry, so sorry! -"

With his free hand, he began to fumble for his wand, but funnily enough, no particular spell was coming to mind that would get ice cream out of someone's hair. "For Merlin's sake," he groaned - a rebuke at himself - as instead he changed tack and lunged for some napkins. "Here," Elias said, presenting a whole heap of them on the table in front of the redhead, his face and ears actually a similar shade in his embarrassment.

  

[Lucy Hinton]

Lucy thought, as she turned to the man who was apparently the culprit, that her life would have been easier if she could simply shave her head. Not terribly long ago, she'd lost half her hair to a cursed letter, and now this. At least if she were bald these things wouldn't be such a problem.

Vanity meant that the thought made her shudder. Though that might have also been the cold from the ice cream.

"It's all right," she said, a bit too tersely for it to sound sincere. She accepted the napkins and attempted, awkwardly, to wipe at her hair. Ugh.

  

[Elias Grimstone]

The brightness of her hair - though the shade was arresting, it was so in rather a nice way - did not, alas, help much in the matters of ice cream. Chocolate might have blended in with brown until one could go home, and even vanilla would be less conspicuous on blonde, but strawberry wasn't red enough to be camouflaged a bit, and Elias' ice cream, anyway, hadn't even been strawberry.

It really wasn't alright, and he knew it just as well as he knew she likely didn't mean it. Still, it had been a stab at politeness, and again Elias wondered whether he ought to flee before that strategy was relinquished in favour of undisguised irritation. He supposed he had a better angle from which to see the affected area of hair, but he didn't dare try and undo the damage personally, or point out the large splodge she kept missing -

Instead, he sought another way in which to be marginally of use, hopefully? Taking a couple of the remaining napkins on the table, he produced his wand and muttered, "Aguamenti." Some of the water soaked straight through onto the table - nothing like making more of a mess - but now the napkins were at least damp. Frowning cautiously, Elias offered them to her, "Will this help?"

  

[Lucy Hinton]

The napkins succeeded in getting more of the ice cream from her hair, though Lucy went through them rather too quickly to get it all and before long she was holding out her hand for more.

"You ought to look where you're going," she said, because this was the best she could do. Ugh, her whole body was going to feel sticky now, she was sure of it.

  

[Elias Grimstone]

He had already darted over for yet another handful of napkins, so moistened them next before passing them over when she gestured for them, perfectly happy to assist silently - or as perfectly happy as one could be whilst drowning in their own awkwardness.

The young woman was not about to let him off without reproving him, though, and Elias mustered a wry smile-grimace at her words, wishing he could shrink all six foot three of him into the depths of the earth where he probably belonged for the next hundred years. He could potentially become a bat, or a mole animagus, or something; Elias was already apparently as blind as one, and moles seemed to do well enough for themselves, didn't they? (Alright, he had no idea what his brain was trying to convince him of: he, wholly and unequivocally, knew nothing about moles.)  

"I'm not sure who could affirm it for me, but I do try," Elias admitted mournfully, that rueful smile the only defence mechanism he really possessed. It seemed a curse that people should only witness - and thus, remark upon - his terrible moments of clumsiness. "But my observation skills could use some work. And my hand-eye coordination, for that matter. I really am sorry," he said, shrugging helplessly before using a spare napkin to wipe some of the spilled ice cream off his hand as well.

  

[Lucy Hinton]

Lucy let out a rather unladylike grunt in answer to that. At least the napkins were coming away with less and less on them. That managed to lessen her ire, though now her hair was quite wet, if less ice cream-covered.

"Did I get most of it?" she asked, turning her head this way and that so the man could properly see.

  

[Elias Grimstone]

Although she hadn't continued to chastise him, Elias did not expect that she had forgiven him, either. Well - there was little enough he could do to change that, save trying.

"Er," Elias hummed, as he was put on the spot. The wet patches of hair were extremely visible now, though there was much less ice cream, thankfully! There was perhaps a dot or two, but they were very small and he almost didn't dare point them out. His pointed finger lingered and then curled back into his fist, crunching the napkin he'd used. "Yes, I think so," he nodded, qualifying the statement to sound more enthusiastic. "It looks much better."

"You don't have anywhere too important to be, do you?" Elias asked hesitantly, still frowning anxiously. Merlin, hopefully not! He'd feel even worse, if that were possible.

  

[Lucy Hinton]

"No, I was going home after this," Lucy said. Thank Merlin. She would have been more like to try to stab the man with her ice cream spoon otherwise. It was exceptionally random, but it was the only thing she could think of. Right. Well. Though his question made Lucy eye him suspiciously. "Is it still that bad?" She patted at her hair. It was quite wet now, which might have been the problem, but still better than being covered in sticky goop.

  

[Elias Grimstone]

Going home, at least! Excellent, then she couldn't prove too incited to kill him for ruining her hair right before work, or a wedding or a funeral or some other social event wherein people were not usually accustomed to wearing ice cream in their hair. Perhaps he would survive, yet.

She did not seemed too convinced by his previous evaluation, so he tried again. "No, it's -" Elias peered at the top of her head, and, mumbling a may I?, gingerly blotted away a last patch he could see, to save having to take years off his life directing her to the specific strand of hair. He drew back just as hastily, and took a step away for good measure, "- it's fine. It's all gone - your hair still looks - lovely." He assured her.

"Can I buy you another -" Wait, she still had her own ice cream, it had been Elias' own purchase that had been demolished before it could be eaten - "Can I pay for -" he could leave some money for hers, as a gesture of apology? He wasn't sure what, exactly, he was suggesting. Helplessly, he finished, "Is there anything else I can do...?"

  

[Lucy Hinton]

"I think you've done enough," Lucy said, probably sounding more petulant than she'd meant to, but she hardly wanted to take it back. She looked down at her own ice cream, which, though surely more melted than it had been at the start of this interlude, had hardly been touched. He'd just about put her off the stuff, honestly, but Lucy couldn't actually bring herself to waste food. "Perhaps you should go."

  

[Elias Grimstone]

He cleared his throat, but could hardly find it in him to disagree. Given his ice cream had been so unduly sacrificed, it might have occurred to Elias to get himself a replacement dessert, but that would have probably rubbed the incident in something awful, and so he thought he'd just take her suggestion and scarper.

"Alright," he mumbled - mostly to himself - with one last wince, brushing his damp hands against his trousers. "I'm - sorry," he added for the hundredth time, not that he expected it would make any difference, as he turned and made a beeline for the street. Hopefully he would never encounter this particular young woman again: Elias would not put it past her to have some sort of jinx-on-sight policy filed away.