Closed What's That Smell?

Freddie Lagowski

professional posturer
 
Messages
1,235
OOC First Name
Clairey
Blood Status
Half Blood
Relationship Status
Too Young to Care
Wand
Curly 12 1/2 Inch Rigid Willow Wand with Fairy Wing Core
Age
13
Freddie stopped in front of the G-H section, wrinkling his nose. What was that smell? Was it him? He pretended to itch his eye with his arm, so he could give his armpit a quick and subtle sniff. Nope, he just smelled of deodorant - and he would've been mad if he didn't, 'cause he used as much Axe in one day as you were supposed to use in a week. To be on the safe side.

Must've been the books, he thought, as he led Luke further into the library. They always had a funky smell to them. This one was weird, though. Sweet and sour and savoury all at the same time. Like someone had put deodorant on a dead rat.

"Who was it you said wrote it again?" Freddie asked, as they approached K-L. Eugh. As soon as he found Luke's book, he was getting far, far away from here.​
 
Luke's eyes were watering as he walked alongside Freddie, it felt as though his eyes were burning as he was stood in the small cloud surrounding his brother. "Kenny Worthiwhisp," he was sure that's what he'd heard, although it was always harder to remember things when he heard them, rather than when he read them. His brother wasn't the smartest either, but he was older and a Ravenclaw so he should have at least had a better shot than he did at knowing who the author was.

The benefit of coming to the library this late at night was not only was it mostly deserted, the students having gone off to bed hours ago, but it also meant that Luke could get away with wearing his pj's instead of his robes. As long as he wore his long fluffy dressing gown over the top, then no one really thought to question it, which at least made searching around the castle a lot more comfortable. "He's like, really famous!" The sooner Freddie could figure it out, the sooner Luke could step out of his mist.
 
Kenny Worthiwhisp. Worthiwhisp. W. Freddie sped up a bit, patting the shelves as he passed them. Never heard of a Kenny Worthiwhisp. Couldn't be that famous, if he'd never heard of him. "Maybe if you're a big nerd, he is."

Suddenly Freddie stopped. The smell wasn't coming from the books. It was following him. He turned to face his brother. He considered leaning in for a sniff, but some primal instinct made him recoil instead. "It's you," he said. "You smell like a barn. Did you forget to shower? For, like, a month?" Walking around in his pajamas probably wasn't helping. Merlin knew when he last washed those.​
 
Luke certainly wasn't a big nerd. Maybe only a bit of a nerd but that was only because he wanted to show people he wasn't completely useless. He followed Freddie further down the isle, checking out the spines on the way, it did feel as though they were getting closer..

As Freddie stopped, Luke almost walked straight into him. His heart sunk a little as his brother looked at him as though he was something he would have found on the bottom of someone's shoe. "No!" he took pride in making sure he washed at least three times at week. He didn't want anyone in the castle to think he was a dirty boy. "That smell is coming from you!" he was surprised Freddie couldn't smell the whiff he was giving off. The rest of the library probably could.
 
"No it's not. I smell good. You smell like... dungbombs." Freddie didn't really want to tell Luke he smelled like poop, but as the older brother, it was kinda his responsibility. Who else was gonna do it? No-one. Luke would just wake up one day with no friends and wonder where everyone went. Maybe it'd suck to hear it, but it was the right thing to do.

Dungbombs had given Freddie an idea. He didn't like it. "What's in your pockets? Show me. Turn them all the way inside-out," he said. Either Luke was playing a prank on him, or he'd left half a cheese sandwich in his pocket and forgotten about it. Again.

Godmod approved
 
Luke had to supress himself when Freddie said he smelt good. Clearly his nose was warped. That probably meant he was wrong about Luke, too. "I haven't got anything.." the first year whined, but turned out his pockets nonetheless. Old cracker crumbs fell onto the floor between them, mixed with old candy wrappers and a spoon. "See," there was nothing in there.

The boy started to nudge the bits on the floor with his dark red slippers, shuffling them out of the walk way before a librarian considered it to be littering. "Your nose is broken.." it was the only explaination.
 

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