It could be worse on Charms

Professor Lorraine Taylor

August 12, 2008 9:24 PM

Beginning Charms, Class II [Years I and II] by Professor Lorraine Taylor

"Application," Lorraine Taylor emphasised her sharp word with a tap of her wand against the chalkboard with a decisive click. Precise cursive notes with labeled diagrams spread themselves over the board as she paced up to the front of the dais overlooking the full classroom of first and second years. It was directly after the Midterm break, which Lorraine had spent with her family, and all of her classes were through with their theoretical learning for the year. The professor rather liked this method of teaching. It allowed her to get what she looked at as the boring part of the subject over with quickly and then progress to the fun part. As she had just said, application. After all, as a woman who had spent a good part of her life as a magical engineer, something like that would be considered enjoyable. Second only to a rousing Arithmantic problem.

Lorraine pushed her neatly cut blonde hair (with strands of white and gray hidden in the colour) back with one hand as she gestured to the lab tables with the other. For she had moved the desks to the side, providing space for six large, black, fireproof lab tables, the sort generally seen in Muggle science labs. After all, she had been raised for the first ten years of her life as a Muggle, and her family was still adamantly so. Although there was her brother's youngest that she wondered about sometimes...but Trevor had some time yet before he would get his letter, if he were to be a wizard.

"is everything," she finished, surveying the room. "Today, we will be applying our knowledge of the Severing Charm to its best use. Cooking.

"There is a recipe for pizza on each of the lab stations, and there are four stations to a lab table. I expect you all to get into groups of two and use the spell appropriately to cut the materials. Use your imagination. You have not been given any utensils, and I expect an edible creation by the end of the period. You may begin." Lorraine prevented herself from being too amused by the shocked glances some of the students were trading at the prospect of food in her classroom. After all, she had gotten quite the reputation of a Nazi in the classroom and around the school. Nevertheless, the woman could appreciate what was needed to get her students interested in her lesson.

OOC: Minimum of ten sentences please. Anything shorter than that will not count for House Points. If you are having trouble writing the ten sentences, try to include what your character is thinking, feeling, seeing, etc. Site rules should be followed, of course. Beyond that, please be creative and tag me if necessary.

Subthreads:

Yummy! by Lucie Dupree with Grayson Wright, Lucie

Cooking? Ick. by Chelsea Brockert with Laurie Cider

What kind of pizza are talking about here? by Holly Greer with Cecily Smythe, Cecily

It could be worse by Amelia Smythe with Ian Grimm, Amelia

0 Professor Lorraine Taylor Beginning Charms, Class II [Years I and II] 0 Professor Lorraine Taylor 1 5

Lucie Dupree

August 13, 2008 3:38 PM

Yummy! by Lucie Dupree

The Charms classroom was certainly an interesting site in Lucie’s view. In place of the desks, which were off to the side, were large, black tables. She tilted her blonde head in curiosity, wondering what they were going to be doing. Normally, the class tended to be rather boring, working mostly in theory, and since she found it boring, it meant that she had difficulty on any testing on the material, because she had a hard time remembering things that weren’t of interest. Though, she supposed if she used the material in a story it would make it easier.

Tucking a strand of her long hair behind one ear, she moved to one of the tables and put her bag underneath. It seemed she was right on time too, because as soon as she did, the professor began her lecture. At the mention of application, Lucie concentrated on what Professor Taylor was actually talking about. She completely agreed with the statement. Application was everything. One could only know so much theory. It was the application that really got to the point. It was like, one could know the theory of how to defend against a dementor and, even though the chances of actually coming across one were rather slim, if one did, knowing the theory wouldn’t be enough to protect oneself. It was all in the application.

Her excitement grew with the next sentences. They would be cooking a pizza. How cool was that? Lucie had never tried cooking before. At home, they had house elves that took care of all that. Truthfully, if her mother ever caught her children in the kitchen attempting such a thing, she probably would have flipped out. After all, it was something that would be considered beneath their status in her mother’s opinion, which is why they often didn’t get to do the fun things that other kids got to do, but Lucie was making a vital attempt to do so regardless and this was a great lesson to do so.

On closer inspection of the table, she saw the recipe near the other person, but she was near the toppings. Broccoli. Ew. Why in the world would anyone put broccoli on pizza? Actually, why would anyone eat it? It was absolutely disgusting. She didn’t like it raw. She didn’t like it cooked. And she certainly wasn’t about to put it on a pizza. She glanced over to her partner, hoping that they had no desire for the broccoli either. “So, where do we begin? I guess we’d have to make the crust, right?” She asked, hoping that her partner also had a clue of where to start.

0 Lucie Dupree Yummy! 114 Lucie Dupree 0 5

Chelsea Brockert

August 15, 2008 3:58 PM

Cooking? Ick. by Chelsea Brockert

By the second half of her second year at Sonora,Chelsea Brockert had certain expectations of her classes. She expected the vast majority of them to be completely pointless, she expected Potions to be disgusting, and she expected Charms, the class she was currently in, to be something inappropriate for proper young ladies.

Today was no exception. Chelsea rolled her eyes. Cooking was certainly not for her. It was for house-elves, muggles and poor people. Or for people who were completely dedicated to being homemakers, such as her mother. Chelsea didn't understand why her mother insisted on doing these homemaking skills when they could certainly hire someone. That's what she would do someday. She certainly had no desire to have a career but she wasn't going to lower herself to cook and clean either.

Not to mention there were probably several better uses for the severing charm. Such as if you were tied up and needed to escape, although Chelsea probably would never need to do that either.

And pizza was rather a low class food too. Why did the teachers here, especially Taylor and Flatt, always have to play to the lower classes, rather than giving them a dose of culture? It was like Chelsea always thought, if they constantly pandered to the upper class purebloods, they'd probably get in trouble. Yet, it was perfectly okay to do the reverse? Chelsea felt this was a great injustice and people like her were not supposed to be suffering injustices. She supposed pizza could be good, but only prepared by the finest chefs, with the finest ingredients.

Chelsea sighed and turned to the friend sitting next to her. "Shall we?" It was a given that most of the time, she was going to work with Anabel, Cecily or Holly and she certainly didn't want to bother with anyone else at the moment.

11 Chelsea Brockert Cooking? Ick. 108 Chelsea Brockert 0 5

Laurie Cider

August 16, 2008 11:04 PM

Cooking? Hurrah! by Laurie Cider

She walked into class, unable to suppress her good cheer. Winter break had been, to say the least, fantastic. Christmas with her family and then a whole week in the snow with the Warrens- especially that New Year's Eve, secure on the back of Josh's broom, the sky and the fireworks closer than they'd ever been before- the entire time had been nothing short of, well, magical. Laurie was even able to forget about her parents' strange behavior and Bryce's odd over-protectiveness.

Returning to Sonora forced a mild splash of the real world, mostly in the form of class lectures and warnings about upcoming finals and next year's choices for electives. She had traded stories with her classmates, given Cecily and Alexis their Christmas presents (home-made fudge and popcorn balls); she had even dug up Talen from the library and foisted on him a wallet-sized pocket picture frame. She didn't mention the developments between herself and Josh, and afterwards tried to convince herself that it had been forgetfulness and not something else.

There was a thrill now, a sensation she couldn't ignore for the life of her, that strummed along her back whenever she came down the stairs to the Crotalus common room and found Josh there waiting for her. And that thrill, the bubbling bit of giddiness, stayed with her throughout the morning and into her entrance into the Charms classroom.

"Today, we will be applying our knowledge of the Severing Charm to its best use. Cooking. There is a recipe for pizza on each of the lab stations, and there are four stations to a lab table."

She barely managed to contain a happy cheer. Pizza, for a class lesson? Too excellent.

Some of her excitement weakened though when she glanced down at her lap. The scar on the back of her hand had faded, as most do after a time has passed. Still though, Laurie reassured herself that pepperoni was hardly as resistant as copper. She had grown up in the kitchen, acting as either a semi-reliable taste-tester or cooking assistant to her dad's many exploits. She knew her way around making a pizza, that's for sure.

All she needed now was a suitable partner, someone who would keep this lesson as fun as it ought to be. Someone who would guarantee no drama and all pizza-slicing, pizza-making, and pizza-eating fun.

Someone-

"Shall we?"

Laurie's brown eyes widened. Chelsea Brockert was talking to her? Must be a mistake; she checked to her right and then behind, her blond ponytail whipping with each quick head movement. There was no mistake. Unless somehow the Aladren had seen blond hair and just read it as, well, someone not her.

Oh well. Might as well dive in. Pizza, right?

"Um, sure. I guess we should decide what we want on it other than, you know, the obvious: tomatoes and cheese. You like pineapple? I love hawaiian." It was unfortunate, but she was babbling.

Laurie tried not to let this bother her. They were making pizza, after all. Babbling ought to go hand in hand. "Right."

0 Laurie Cider Cooking? Hurrah! 0 Laurie Cider 0 5

Grayson Wright

August 16, 2008 11:31 PM

Here's hoping it will be. by Grayson Wright

Usually being one of the first kids to arrive at any class had advantages and disadvantages. An advantage was the few minutes where there was nowhere to worry about reaching on time and no sense of needing to do something academic. One disadvantage was having, at least in classes with teachers one found intimidating, nothing to do until the bell. Gray had never quite dared to use his free minutes in Charms to write, so he spent the minutes his classmates spent filing into the room staring off into space. It didn't even occur to him to attempt conversation with his neighbors.

The diagrams appearing on the board drew his attention to Professor Taylor in time for him to catch the gist of her speech. Gray's stomach sank a little at 'application'. He wasn't horrible with a wand, but he was just a tad further from 'brilliant' than 'horrible' when casting the spells he was so good at learning the theory behind was a requirement. Maybe it was inherited, maybe it was just in his head, maybe it was connected to be clumsy - that last was his favorite - but it was so. He very much hoped they wouldn't have to prove the edibility of their pizzas.

He blinked when Lucie - he was sure that was her name; he seldom forgot a face once he learned it, and he'd learned his entire class before the end of his first year - spoke to him. Where had she come from? Mentally shrugging aside the question, since it was far from the first time he had failed to notice the seat beside him filling, Gray pushed his glasses up his nose and glanced at the recipe. Having clear written instructions to go by might just save their day. "Y-yeah," he said, keeping his hand on the recipe in case she chose to doubt him. "It looks, it looks easy. Do you want to mix it, or do you, uh, want me to?"

16 Grayson Wright Here's hoping it will be. 113 Grayson Wright 0 5

Lucie

August 17, 2008 4:14 PM

We just have to survive it. by Lucie

Grayson. She wondered if anyone ever called him Gray or by some other nickname, because it seemed like such a terribly adult name for someone their age and if they didn’t, she really thought they should. Anyhow, she mentally shook her head to clear it of the distraction of shortening his name, which she was apt to do by nature, and instead focused on the actual person, who seemed to be taken bit aback by the fact that she had talked to him. But then, how was she supposed to accomplish anything with a partner if she didn’t talk to said partner? Really, that wouldn’t make any sense at all.

She also didn’t think it made any sense that he kept his hand on the recipe card since they both needed to use it, but she supposed it didn’t really matter. Everything at the ‘crust’ station appeared to have already been measured out, so the only way it could be screwed up is if she did something horrible like spilling or dropping one of the ingredients, which, oh, that could be a problem. It wasn’t that she was a klutzy girl, but sometimes she tended to get a bit excited and would rush too quickly, which resulted in the appearance of being klutzy. She rationalized that she just had to go slowly. If she did, then they should be able to get a good grade. So, what better place to start, then by what Gray said was easy? “Sure, I’ll mix it. Shouldn’t be too hard, right? Do you want to start on the sauce or maybe slicing the toppings?”

The first thing she did was to check out each of the ingredients she was supposed to use to make the crust. There was brown sugar, salt, olive oil, flour, and active dry yeast. She began by making a little volcano out of the flour with her hands. In it, she put the brown sugar, salt, olive oil, and yeast. Then, she began to try and mix them up since it seemed only logical to do. Unfortunately, all she was ending up with was a goopy mess that kept sticking to her hands and it certainly didn’t look anything like what dough was supposed to look like. She had to be missing something, but what? She decided she had best look at the recipe. Rounding the table, she went over to where it was sitting to get a view. She had decided not to actually move it since Grayson had seemed a bit possessive of it earlier. Leaning down to read the card, she was glad that she had already tied her long hair back, otherwise it might have ended up in the sauce, which would have been an utter disaster. Okay, so she was missing…duh, water, but there wasn’t any sitting out.

Another duh. She had to use the Augmenti spell. She moved back to her work area and, oh, man, she hadn’t pulled out her wand. Goopy hands and no wand, what a perfect match. At least, she kept her wand in her pocket and not her bag, so she only had to get it out of her pants, but still, it would leave a bit of a mess. Oh, well. It could be cleaned up. She pulled it out, so now she had goopy hands and a goopy wand. “Augmenti!” A small stream of water shot out and when she thought it was enough, she tried to get her wand to stop spilling water, but it wouldn’t. Panicking slightly, as she didn’t want to mess up the recipe, she shifted her position, which caused the water to hit Grayson. “I’m so sorry!” Lucie cried out. How embarrassing! But at least, her wand had stopped shooting water. “Did I mess anything up?”

0 Lucie We just have to survive it. 0 Lucie 0 5

Holly Greer

August 18, 2008 9:33 AM

What kind of pizza are talking about here? by Holly Greer

Holly Thistle of the Hollywood Thistles considered herself fairly good at charms. Once she got over the whole whoa-magic thing, she actually found it to be one of the easiest and least stressful classes available at Sonora, the teacher's stern manner notwithstanding. For one thing, she'd never thrown-up, wished she would throw-up, or gotten nightmares due to the subject material. History, potions, and DADA could not say the same.

And unlike Care of Magical Creatures, which occasionally had a beast that smelled awful or looked nasty, Charms was fairly consistent in its ability to interest her.

Thanks to her stepmother, today was no exception. Had Courtney had any other job than the one she did (owning a catering company), Holly might have found the thought of cooking beneath her, especially for a dish like pizza, but instead the word 'cooking' made her sit up in her chair with even greater interest than normal.

She pulled the recipe closer and looked it over, noting with great pleasure that there wasn't a single rat's tail or ounce of ogre's blood to be seen. They were all perfectly normal and recognizable ingredients. After getting the gist of the recipe, she pushed it aside.

That was common pizza. She could do better.

She looked around, trying to figure out which of her classmates might also enjoy cooking (you had to enjoy making it, Courtney said, or it wouldn't taste right when it was done). It was difficult to tell, but she moved in on one person who at least didn't look put out by the assignment. "Have you ever made gourmet pizza before?"

1 Holly Greer What kind of pizza are talking about here? 123 Holly Greer 0 5

Cecily Smythe

August 18, 2008 10:24 AM

Anything edible will be fine by Cecily Smythe

Midterm over, back to classes. The routine was nothing if not repetetive. Still, Cecily had by now settled into the school environment, and the routine she had once considered mundane was now so much a part of her life that she barely noticed it. As she sat in the charms class, staring at her nails (she really had to stop biting them - maybe there was a charm for that?), Cecily was fairly relaxed. Her parents had decided to hold a party for her father's birthday over the midterm holiday, which meant that their house had been flooded with every known relative of the extended family. As if that weren't bad enough, Cecily hadn't been allowed to attend the party itself, and spent the evening keeping peace between Lucas, Milly, and other assorted cousins. In comparison, school life was bliss. Naturally, she still had a couple of insufferable roommates, but that didn't dampen her current state of contentment.

Professor Taylor was usually fairly dull, but otherwise Cecily had no qualms with her, or the subject in general. In fact, charms could often prove useful - certainly moreso than anything any of the other classes taught. This class, in particular, had obvious applied uses. But pizza? Cecily had only encountered the Muggle creation since coming to Sonora, along with a myriad of other foods presented from time to time in the Hall. She would much rather be baking a cake or learning how to make vol-au-vents, but with the right partner she supposed the class could progress fairly well.

Looking around for such a suitable accomplice, Cecily smiled brightly as Holly approached her. "I've never made any sort of pizza, ever," Cecily replied. She'd made some interesting ice-cream creations before, but that was the great extent of her culinary experience. "I'm good at the severing charm, though," she told Holly, pulling her silky straight hair back into a neat ponytail. "Where shall we start?"

0 Cecily Smythe Anything edible will be fine 122 Cecily Smythe 0 5

Holly Greer

August 18, 2008 2:23 PM

Okay then. by Holly Greer

Holly smiled back at Cecily, pleased that at least one of her friends wasn't finding the exercise too terrible to attempt with good cheer. "I must admit, I've never made pizza either. It's a bit low class. But my step-mother is a fabulous chef and I bet we can make one to our higher standards."

Leading Cecily back to her station, Holly reclaimed her recipe sheet and pointed out the critical parts. "Okay, there are three main steps to a pizza. We'll need dough, sauce, and toppings." She held up one additional finger as she listed off each of the three parts. "The dough requires minimal chopping, so I suspect it's the toppings and sauce we're supposed to focus on, but the dough is just as important for the final product. I don't think we have time for proper dough-making - Courtney can take hours just on that because you need to give it time to rise - so I guess we'll stick to the recipe on that and hope it's adequate."

Holly rolled her eyes to give her opinion on that, but she wasn't going to let that get her down. "The sauce, though, that's where we can make improvements. Look," she pointed at the sauce part of the recipe they were given, "It's so boring. It's mostly tomatoes with hardly any seasoning. And the toppings! Just one kind of cheese? That's completely unacceptable. I just hope Professor Taylor has a large enough variety of ingredients so that we can improvise a little bit. But I suppose we should start by getting the tomatoes and chopping up those. Do you want to do that while I put together the dough?"

Holly began looking over the ingredients that were already waiting at their station, skipping over the tomatoes to discover that, yes, there was a good selection for creative improvement over the original recipe. Not as much as she might have liked and she certainly couldn't vouch for the quality of the ingredients, but this was workable.

"So does your family do much cooking, our do you leave that to servants?" she asked as she began to select out what she would need for the dough. For fear of putting Cecily on the spot since Holly herself obviously knew what she was doing, she hurried to explain, "If Courtney didn't enjoy it so much that she started her own company to cater at major events, I doubt I would have ever learned. My mother certainly doesn't cook herself."

It went without saying that her father was completely useless in a kitchen. At least, Holly had never seen him set foot in one. If Courtney couldn't make it home in time to cook or arrange for dinner (they had a hired cook who came in sometimes when Courtney's catering company was really busy or she just didn't feel like cooking herself), Daddy would take them out to eat.

1 Holly Greer Okay then. 123 Holly Greer 0 5

Gray

August 23, 2008 6:52 PM

Yes. We do. by Gray

"Sauce," Gray repeated. An image of a bubbling pot of a red substance on the stove at home flashed across his mind. His grandma made really good tomato sauce, and his dad's wasn't half-bad. Sauce took a long time to cook or whatever-it-was sauce did - he'd never studied the Ways of the Chef to know the proper term - so it would be best to start that as soon as possible. "Yeah. I can do that."

The sauce recipe was kind of...long. If it had been a story instead of a list of instructions, it would've had more odd plot twists than three of his together. Pushing his sleeves back - he still had classes left and no great desire to sit through them in food-covered robes - Gray chose an onion to chop up.

The onions and spices went into the oil all right, and the tomatoes, though more or less square after being peeled by an inexpert set of Severing Charms, had all been mashed up as best as he could, but it wasn't coming together. He had done something wrong. His grandma's sauce didn't look like a restaurant's dumptster, with the tomato and onion almost seeming to float in green-flecked hot oil. Maybe it needed stirring? Hesitantly, he poked a long-handled wooden spoon into the mix and used his wand to move it around the sauce pot.

He was just about to congratulate himself for thinking of this as the sauce began showing signs of smoothness when, out of nowhere, he was suddenly hit by a stream of water. Cold water. He automatically threw his hands up to shield his glasses, dropping his wand in the process. The apologies of his partner explained the occurence, but did not make his heart slow down again. He was not the biggest fan of surprises, and sudden water from the walls was definitely a surprise.

"No," he said, putting his hands back down and hoping he was telling the truth. She sounded upset, which was bad. Upset girls were - if Anne and Elizabeth were typical of the kind, anyway, which he doubted, but anyway - not the best kind to be around. "It's okay, Lucie." He tried his best to sound reassuring, but he had a feeling he'd done that wrong, too. He'd had a few more tries at comforting people than he had at cooking, but not many.

Behind him, unnoticed, the spoon had continued to revolve, growing sloppier as it went unattended. Adjusting his not-crooked glasses from habit and giving Lucie a quick smile, he turned back to the sauce just in time to take a smooth-ish dollop of it to the lenses.

Yelling more from shock than the pain of the bits of hot tomato that had hit him instead of his glasses, he tried and mostly failed to yank his glasses off while removing those bits with his sleeve and grab that accursed spoon with the other hand. Consequently, the second task ended up being put third, though he still thought he had acted quickly enough to prevent permanent scarring. That was good. What was not good was having everything a hair more than four inches from the end of his nose be a blur with very few identifying features.

"It's okay," he said aloud, putting his glasses down very carefully. He needed his wand, which he now remembered he had dropped, to get water, which he needed to take enough of the sauce off his lenses to see well enough to finish. Being blind as a bat wasn't a good reason to fail. He was nowhere near as obsessed with it as Anne was - Anne got a lot scarier than usual when she thought she was beginning to underachieve, and that was saying something - but Gray still liked doing well in his classes very much. "Nothing went wrong. Can you - uh - can you turn down the heat for the sauce, Lucie?" Feeling around, he finally located his wand and began trying to clean off his glasses.

16 Gray Yes. We do. 113 Gray 0 5

Cecily

August 24, 2008 12:34 PM

I'm not a good cook by Cecily

Cecily allowed herself to be guided back towards Holly's desk, and was encouraged by her friend's talk of adapting the teacher's recipe to their own, higher standards. She nodded along as Holly talked about how one would go about making a pizza. cecily wasn't espcially interested; as long as there were some instructions for her to follow - Professor Taylor's or Holly's own - she would be able to manage the lesson successfully. It transpired that Holly was happy to give orders, so cecily did as she suggested and set about slicing tomatoes. It was rather satisfying using the severing charm, and certainly more preferable to using silly Muggle appliances.

Holly herself went about making the dough, and made idle conversation, too, which Cecily was delighted to encourage. "I think my mother can cook," she replied, "but mostly servants, yes." Technically, the cooking was done by one or two kitchen staff, depending on the occasion, and their family house elf, but Cecily wasn't sure of Holly's knowledge on house elves, so she left that part out. "Amelia and I will probably learn some basics, just in case we ever need to know. Though I can't imagine I'd ever fancy being stuck in a kitchen for hours just for one meal," she added, with an expression of distaste. Then, realizing that might have sounded offensive to Holly, with regards to her father's partner, she hastily added, "It's just not my thing. But if I enjoyed it then I'm sure I'd cook all the time."

Well perhaps that was stretching the truth somewhat, but the fact remained that if Cecily wanted to do something, very little was ever in place to prevent her. Regardless, cooking was not an interest of hers, so it didn't matter, anyway. Though Cecily had finished chopping tomatoes, and she looked to Holly for more instructions. "What shall I do next? I'm happy to keep slicing; just point me to the food."

0 Cecily I'm not a good cook 0 Cecily 0 5

Amelia Smythe

August 25, 2008 12:38 PM

It could be worse by Amelia Smythe

Since attending charms club, Amelia's liking for the subject had substantially increased. With that, her confidence had also grown (not that it had been in anyway lacking to begin with), which in turn ensured a greater success rate in Amelia's spell casting. It was a very positive loop, and for the first time she could remember, Milly actually found herself looking forward to a lesson.

Professor Taylor was undoubtedly dull, and Amelia didn't like her anyway, partly because cecily had pegged her for a Muggle-lover. Amelia had to concede her sister was probably right; all their lessons seemed to involve Muggle objects of some desciptions. Take today for instance: they could be making any food under the sun, but Professor Taylor had settled on pizza. How absurd.

Still, Milly was determined to show off her excellent charm skills, and eating food was practically always a pleasurable experience. Pushing her long blonde hair up into a clip to keep it out of the way while she was cooking, Amelia turned to the student sitting at the desk next to her.

"Hi," she said cheerfully. "Would you like to work with me?"

0 Amelia Smythe It could be worse 121 Amelia Smythe 0 5

Ian Grimm

August 25, 2008 4:09 PM

Yes, it could be this. by Ian Grimm

It wasn't so much that Ian wasn't a fan of pizza as it was that he didn't see any real practical purpose in practicing a severing spell on substances he had no intention of ever coming in contact with. There was a very good reason why his family spent thousands every year on employing chefs and their assistants: Grimms simply weren't gifted in the culinary arts.

Plus, Ian didn't like cheese which in turn made enjoying pizza particularly challenging.

He supposed, however, that waving his wand around for the next hour and change in exchange for an O was not too arduous a task. He just hoped his partner wasn't one of those overly enthusiastic, pizza-is-life, sort of person. He faced the table ingredients with a small frown before reluctantly sliding on his gold frames. The previously blurred objects swam into a startk relief; he had learned the hard way that attempting spells with spotty vision could end up poorly.

"Hi. Would you like to work with me?"

For a scarce three seconds, Ian stared, expressionless. His first impression of his yearmate, Amelia Smythe, had produced a particularly low opinion. She struck him as silly, as most girls his age tended to- but a purposefully silly one, which made it twice as annoying. He had a nagging suspicion that somewhere in that void of space designated as her brain, there might be some semblance of intelligence. But it was only a small suspicion. For the most part, when he thought of her at all, he thought of her as shallow and annoying.

He frowned. "Not terribly, but we don't have much a choice on this now, do we?" He was, of course, referring to the lack of free partners in the classroom. "Seeing as I don't plan on eating any of this, I suppose you can choose the ingredients."\r\n\r\n

0 Ian Grimm Yes, it could be this. 110 Ian Grimm 0 5

Amelia

August 26, 2008 11:43 AM

Do lighten up by Amelia

Oh for the love of of Merlin. Amelia had thought she'd merely caught Ian in a bad mood last time they'd worked together, but apparently he was always this ill-tempered. "You do have a choice," she told him in no uncertain terms, "but actually I think you'll find there are far worse partners in this room and you should consider yourself lucky I'm willing to work with you, despite your rudeness." Amelia made a point of glaring at him before turning to the instructions at the work station.

"You can cover it in candle wax and frogspawn for all I care," she returned to his comment about not wanting to eat the pizza, "but if you want to even consider the toppings it might be a good idea to make the base." Milly tapped her finger on their directions to draw Ian's attention to the propsed order of events.

"It's just like a potions class but using the severing charm instead of a knife," she pointed out, perhaps unnecessarily. "Luckily, I'm excellent at potions and using the severing charm, so I can pick up your slack," she said with a sweet smile.

0 Amelia Do lighten up 0 Amelia 0 5

Chelsea

August 26, 2008 9:07 PM

Why me? by Chelsea

Mentally, Chelsea kicked herself for not paying attention to who was sitting near her when she asked the person to work with her. As usual, she expected it to be Anabel, Cecily or Holly. Even Amelia or Ronen would have been acceptable. Instead, she'd mistakenly asked Laurie Cider whom Chelsea found revolting and undeserving of the magical powers that she'd posessed due to the fact that second year Crotalus (and the magical part of her family) seemed to embrace the Muggle world. She was fairly certain that were muggles and especially squibs out there who would give up their limbs to have the magic that Laurie did not seem to appreciate.

What in the name of Merlin had Chelsea done to deserve this? More importantly, who did Laurie think she was sitting anywhere near the immediate vicinity of the Aladren and her friends? She was not one of them-despite her invitation to the pro-WAIL meeting-and never, ever would be.
Chelsea threw Holly and Cecily a "Why me?" look.

"Um, sure. I guess we should decide what we want on it other than, you know, the obvious: tomatoes and cheese. You like pineapple? I love hawaiian."

Chelsea looked at her coldly. This girl had social skills that rivaled Adam's. It seemed among other things, Laurie's parents had not taught her how to communicate in a natural way. It wasn't something that could be blamed on the muggle preference either. Holly's parents were actual muggles and she did was far above most. It was simply the fact that Laurie was low class.

"Actually, I was thinking of something a bit classier. Perhaps a seafood pizza." Chelsea stated.

11 Chelsea Why me? 108 Chelsea 0 5

Ian

August 26, 2008 10:24 PM

Failing to see the pros of that. by Ian

The problem Ian had with girls was that he couldn't find a good reason to have them around.

The private Catholic school that he attended primary school in had been perfectly agreeable and also girl-free. None of his extended family, excluding his mother- and she was his mother after all which meant she was excluded from the tally- were female. He also had no extended family, so that was easy enough to tabulate. He had managed a fairly fine existence thus far without having to deal with the other gender. So really, what sort of purpose could they serve in the grand scheme of things if in eleven years of life, he had yet to miss having them around.

After all, girls- and this one in particular- were rather-

"You can cover it in candle wax and frogspawn for all I care, but if you want to even consider the toppings it might be a good idea to make the base."

'Aggravating' just about covered it.

"We may be able to get away with frogspawn; witches still use it down south supposedly." A nice factoid gained from digging through his father's secret files. "Candle wax will be a hard sell, though. Surprising choices for a girl, but I suppose even a Smythe is allowed to show poor taste every now and again."

Finished, and feeling content that he'd managed to share a shred more of the scorn he harbored for the girl, he moved on to actually inspecting the instructions. Granted, his culinary knowledge was limited to 'I like it' or 'I hate it,' but to his best recollection, the base for a pizza was the dough and then the sauce. He supposed the sauce could lend itself to the spell, if one used it enough times to completely decimate the tomatoes. The dough on the other hand. . .he decided to leave that to her, a choice he shared with her a moment later, once she had finished praising herself.

"Good, because I don't feel like taking care of this." He shoved the dough ingredients in front of her. "Feel free to show off as much as you like."

He promptly focused on the tomatoes, succeeding in at least partially ignoring whatever response his words had earned. Halfway into his seventh diffindo, Ian realized how tedious an assignment this really was turning out to be. Four more diffindos later and he gave up the task; the tomato sauce would simply have to be chunky. They could claim it was going for a rustica feel or something like that.

"Here," he announced unceremoniously, paying no mind to having interrupted his partner's work.

0 Ian Failing to see the pros of that. 0 Ian 0 5

Laurie

August 27, 2008 10:37 AM

Consider it fate. by Laurie

Laurie had a niggling suspicion that Chelsea was not overly fond of her. It might have had something to do with the body language, the chilly waves of disdain emanating from the Aladren, or maybe just the voiced sneer in her words. Thankfully, Laurie had had abundant experience during the past year and a half in dealing with her supposed 'betters.' If Chelsea thought a bit of snideness was going to send her running to hills, then she had another thing coming. After all, Laurie shared a room with Anabel McIntosh!

Chelsea Brockert, while mildly intimidating, was not the biggest monster in the shed.

"Hmm. . . you mean like mussels and clams and scallops and such?" There was a proper phrase for pizza with seafood, she knew. Something like fruitti or fruita de mary. . .some Italian or Spanish phrase. She definitely knew she had eaten it before; she did live in a county made up of islands and bridges after all. Seafood was in everything. "Maybe we should try it with a different cheese then, too? Like parmesan or fontina- my dad's used feta and goat cheese before and both times it's come out delicious."

Even if Laurie wasn't some super rich Pureblood whichever, she definitely knew her ingredients. Her dad wrote cook books; she practically grew up in the kitchen. 'Something a bit classier' her foot. Good food was good food, plain and simple.

0 Laurie Consider it fate. 0 Laurie 0 5

Lucie

August 31, 2008 9:50 PM

Think we can manage? by Lucie

Lucie sighed in relief, thankful that Grayson had said that she hadn’t ruined anything. It would have been horribly dreadful if she had and probably would have resulted in tons more apology, because not only would she have jeopardized her grade, but his as we well. Not to mention, she would have made all his hard (and she didn’t doubt it was hard) work on the sauce go to waste. She didn’t know if she could do it at all. She hadn’t done too well with the dough thus far.

She supposed that she should get back to it and hopefully savage what she could, though, she wasn’t sure that there was much hope for the sticky mess and she suspected by the end of the lesson that it wouldn’t be only on her pants, but her robes as well along with any other bit of food that made its way there. With a different sort of sigh, after a quick smile from Gray, she was just about to try and continue when he shouted. Confusion fleeted across her features. What happened? Everything had been fine just a minute ago. Was he all right? Thankfully, it didn’t take too long to find out since his responses provided answers to her questions.

“Sure,” Lucie replied, as she moved past Grayson. She could take care of turning down the heat. It required nearly no effort on her part. Not to mention it was a nice distraction from the mess she had made. Once the heat was taken care of, Lucie shifted over to where Gray had taken to cleaning his glasses. “Were you able to get them clean?” She asked, her head tilted slightly in concern. She had never had to wear glasses and couldn’t imagine having to be dependent upon them. She wondered just how dependent upon them he was, but opted not to ask on the basis that it would probably be rude given that they didn’t know each other that well.

After making sure Grayson was fine, Lucie managed to turn her attention back to the dough that she really needed to make an attempt at finishing if they had any hope at all. Carefully, she mentally ran through everything again until getting to the point where she left off. A bit of water and the dough actually was dough. That was a plus. At least, she viewed it as one. Of course, if she knew anything about cooking, she would have known that cold water wouldn’t activate the yeast, thereby resulting when the product was finished, the crust was going to be rather flat.

But she didn’t and she continued on. The dough finished, she used the Severing charm to divide the dough into three separate sections. “I figured we could do three mini-pizzas and do different toppings for each, Gray…son” Lucie finished a bit awkwardly, as she added the second syllable of his name. To cover up for her ineptness to actually say his name, she continued by asking, “What toppings do you like? I like mine plain.”

0 Lucie Think we can manage? 0 Lucie 0 5

Amelia

September 01, 2008 1:49 PM

That's because you're a pessimist by Amelia

Amelia rolled her eyes at Ian's dull reply. Couldn't he relax, even for a minute? He was the most boring person Amelia had ever met, she was sure of it. "I suppose even a Smythe is allowed to show poor taste every now and again," he said, and Amelia just about managed to narrow her eyes at him in distaste, but inside she was dying of unoriginality.

"Merlin, yes," she agreed, her eyes all of a sudden wide in condescention. "I believe one of my Great-Granfather's cousins married a Grimm," she said, her tone leaving no question that she viewed this as the very worst example of poor taste.

It was perhaps fortunate that they both immersed themselves in work soon thereafter, because Amelia was not known for any lady-like tendencies when she became displeased. Ignoring the ignorant child next to her, Amelia easily began mixing the ingredients with a nifty conglomoration spell she was not suppposed to know. Therefore, by the time Ian thrust upon her his poor attempt at a sauce, she had the base good and ready.

"Is that it?" she asked looking at his half-hearted attempt. Relenting, she sighed; it was after all dull work and she supposed she might not have done any better; a perfectionist she was not. "It'll do," she said, unceremoniously dumping it on the base and sprinkling some herb leaves or other on the top to make it look more like it was supposed to be lumpy.

"Any thoughts on the topping, yet?" she asked. "Oh," she added with a fake laugh, "I meant sensible suggestions, if you please."

0 Amelia That's because you're a pessimist 0 Amelia 0 5

Ian

September 03, 2008 2:44 PM

No disappointments that way. by Ian

"Is that it?"

Ian replied with a stare, one that hopefully infused all of his apathy regarding the current state of the tomatoes. He could hardly be expected to over-exert himself on a lesson that consisted of making, of all things, pizza. He supposed it was intended to be fun or something of similar kin. It was not at all what he might have expected of Professor Taylor. He made a mental note to update his notebook page on her.

"I'm glad you clarified. I was concerned that you were returning to your candle wax and frogspawn ideas." He managed to state this in such a bland manner that most would mistake him for seriousness. It helped that his expression remained without description. "Generally, one begins with cheese."

He reached across her, not waiting for an agreement, to grab the block of cheese resting near her elbow. He did not excuse himself, instead, focusing on making his charm casting in equal successions horizontally and then vertically. The cheese fell into neat cubes and the slight trace of a satisfied smile graced his lips.

Ian pushed his glasses back up his nose and gestured toward the cheese. "One down. Perhaps you'll take care of the next ingredient then? That is, of course, if you can manage." He had no doubts regarding Amelia's ability to perform the spell; it wasn't a particularly challenging spell. He just enjoyed ribbing her on; she did react so predictably, after all.

0 Ian No disappointments that way. 0 Ian 0 5

Gray

September 06, 2008 11:56 PM

Yes we can! by Gray

After a minute or so of furious scrubbing fueled by his new feeling of idiocy, Gray had his lenses clear enough for him to at least see through. He slid them back over his ears so they sat where he liked them on his nose before he answered Lucie's question. "P - Pretty much," he mumbled, hoping his face hadn't turned too red and feeling sure that it had. He was an idiot. If Thomas or Chelsea had noticed - which they almost certainly had - he'd be lucky not to find himself up in front of a special court to be expelled from Aladren.

At least ritually sacrificing the Unworthy One to expunge the shame he had brought upon them sounded more like what the Crotali would do under equivalent circumstances.

The "emergency" past, Lucie divided the crust three ways. It looked much better than his sauce did, though what his sauce had done to his eyes could have made him just a bit biased against it. "Pepperoni and mozzarella cheese," Gray said when asked about his topping preference. "I'll whack on the cheese and not cut my hand off," he said. He would not have blamed her in the slightest for deciding she had paired with someone dumb enough to actually do that. "And it's - it's just Gray. Grayson's my dad...and my granddad and his dad and a bunch of other relatives, but Dad's the only one who's ever used his whole name. We've mostly had Sonnys and..."

He trailed off, realizing nobody - including most members of his own family - really cared about his ancestors. The animated, stutter-free manner he'd taken up vanished when he realized he'd been rambling again, this time at a girl he'd never met before in his life and would be sitting in classes with for five more years. Hunching his shoulders, Gray returned to the cheese. "..And I'll shut up now," he muttered. "Sorry, uh, y'know, about that."

16 Gray Yes we can! 113 Gray 0 5

Amelia

September 07, 2008 6:02 PM

No hopes or dreams either by Amelia

Amelia vaguely considered whether they'd done enough to pass already as Ian rudely reached across her for the cheese. If this was enough to prove they could do the spell maybe they could just call it a day and she could stop spending time with this insufferable social parasite.

She did her best to ignore everything else he said or did, partly to maintain her own sanity, and partly because she was above rising to such ill-arranged bait, but she couldn't helpd the pursing of her lips, or her skin that flushed with irritation all of its own accord. "I'm sure I'll muddle through," she said through gritted teeth. Simply because they were closest to her, Amelia took up some mushrooms and sliced them almost indecently fast with the spell before scattering them randomly over the cheese. Without confiring with her partner, Amelia grabbed some hamm and diced that, too, before adding it to the pizza. The she pushed the completed dish away from her and sat resolutely back in her chair.

"I'm finished," she told Ian. You can finish it off if you want to. She thought it probably had to be cooked, but she was cursed if she was going to bother herself with things like that. She'd done her part, and nobody could say otherwise.

0 Amelia No hopes or dreams either 0 Amelia 0 5

Chelsea

September 07, 2008 6:12 PM

Cruel, cruel, fate by Chelsea

She raised an eyebrow. Obviously Laurie had spent sometime in the kitchen, since Chelsea doubted the other girl was high class enough to actually eat gourmet food on a regular basis. She hated to admit it, but that might be adventageous to her grade. She didn't really think Holly, Cecily or Anabel spent much time cooking, since that was beneath them like it was beneath her. Still, Chelsea wondered if it was worth it to have to spend time in Laurie's prescence. She'd rather take a slight dip in order to be with her friends and away from this girl who was not only unworthy of her company but having magical abilities in general.

"Actually, I was thinking of caviar and lobster tails, although I doubt we can get those items here . Perhaps a pizza florentine?" Of course, Chelsea couldn't imagine Laurie eating caviar. The Crotalus seemed like more of a hot dog kind of person, which was unusual for Crotali actually. If the other girl hadn't mentioned fontina, Chelsea would have had doubts that she would even know what caviar was.

"Or perhaps, something low in fat and calories." She went on. Not that Chelsea needed to worry about her weight. It was perfect for age and height. She was even perhaps on the slimmer side. Still, it was never hurt to start eating right. After all, Chelsea had heard that it was harder to keep the weight off after puberty.

11 Chelsea Cruel, cruel, fate 108 Chelsea 0 5

Holly Greer

September 09, 2008 12:24 PM

My step-mother says I'm adequate by Holly Greer

Holly nodded, understanding Cecily's points about not wanting to spend all her time in a kitchen. Holly herself probably only liked it as much as she did because Courtney made her feel like a grown-up when Holly was helping out with something her step-mother was making. Plus, Molly wasn't allowed in the kitchen which made it so much more special because Holly wasn't banned from the room. "It's the one thing Courtney and I do together like mother and daughter that I don't do with my biological mom," Holly explained. "Cooking is Courtney's thing, too, so I know I'm learning from the best."

She looked over at where Cecily had just finished chopping up the tomatoes. "Yes, that's good, pass those over here and, I guess, start cutting up some slices of green peppers - do you like green peppers? If you don't, we can skip them. We have plenty of other vegetables and meats to choose from." She nodded at the array of available toppings. Her eye fell on a wedge of cheese. "Actually, we're going to need the cheese first. You can probably start on that now." Holly glanced over the food options and started passing Cecily every kind of cheese she could find. "The best pizzas have more than just mozzarella, so we'll use several different kinds of cheese. We'll want these chopped into very small slivers so they all mix well with the other kinds."

Her own dough-making was going to take a while longer and her arm was already getting tired from the stirring (Courtney usually handled that part). If Cecily finished with the cheeses before the dough was ready, Holly would probably switch them off and start work on the sauce herself and let Cecily roll out the crust. The sauce could make or break a pizza and Holly wanted to make sure they got it just right.

1 Holly Greer My step-mother says I'm adequate 123 Holly Greer 0 5

Lucie

September 16, 2008 12:36 AM

It shall be an adventure by Lucie

While Grayson stated he was going to work on the cheese, Lucie started to work at the first bit of tough to form it into a flat round shape. At the mention of not cutting his hand off, she glanced up at him to see if her was serious or not. Figuring that he couldn’t possibly be, she went back to her work, listening to him talk and was pleased to hear that he went by Gray. She thought it suited him much better than the formal name. It made her glad that she didn’t have one that was. If she did, she would have almost certainly had to shorten it to something more fun.

Lucie’s fingers had just begun working at the second lump of dough when Gray stopped talking. She looked over at him, her head tilted slightly in curiosity as to why he thought he had to cease talking. Personally, she loved to talk about anything really. It didn’t matter what it was about, because either she could offer an opinion or a tidbit of knowledge, or she could ask questions. In this case, questions. “Why does your dad use his whole name?” She offered a smile to let him know that she didn’t mind his rambling in the least. To make him feel more comfortable, she continued, “My dad uses his whole name too, but I couldn’t imagine him as an Al at all.”

Whenever Lucie thought of the name Al, the picture that got painted in her head was of a middle-aged, balding man that wore a white tank with red suspenders. It was really awful that’s what she thought of and she was sure that there were some very nice people that had the name of Al, but she really couldn’t help what she thought, could she? Besides, it’s not like she went around telling people as much. It would be a little weird if she did. She had more important things to thing about than the name Al anyhow, such as the third dough ball. After doing the first two, it was much easier to make the third one the correct shape. She thought it might have been the best one yet.

With all three finished, they just had to add the sauce, cheese, and toppings. Lucie moved back over to where the sauce was. She poked at it a bit with the spoon. “Is the sauce almost finished?” She wasn’t sure when it would be considered finished or not. Though, once it was, they would be able to add it onto the dough. She glanced over to Gray to see how he was doing with the cheese since that was after the sauce. That left one question. “What do you think we should add to the third one? Plain, pepperoni, vegetables?”

0 Lucie It shall be an adventure 0 Lucie 0 5

Ian

September 23, 2008 7:36 AM

Who needs rainbows anyway? by Ian

OOC- Insert all ranges of apologies on belatedness and such here. Then repeat times four.

Ian grew up an only child, with no cousins or close family friends with children his age to experience the requisite socialization that's so crucial during those early, formative years. He did learn, eventually, about the necessities of sharing; attacking your classmate during nap-time with a wooden block because two hours earlier said block had been used without your express permission was generally frowned upon. He learned to enjoy, or at the very least amuse himself, with conversation with his peers. Politeness came to him far easily with adults than with contemporaries. By the third grade, he no longer felt the need to plan revenge for the more trivial of slights, such as the time his spelling test was ruined because his desk partner was unable to sit still for more than three seconds at a time.

From a very broad, generalized perspective, Ian Grimm had progressed very nicely since his early days. There was one area, however, in which he had yet to progress at all. His parents, when sparing a moment to consider their dear son, recognized it as an unfortunate development. Most others wrote it off as predictable. The poor child's last name was Grimm after all; it was only natural he would suffer from such a thing. The truth of it was- and this was most likely the reason for his less than healthy social skills- Ian was lacking in a sense of humor. Jokes, puns, pranks and the like were all things that the twelve year old had no real appreciation for.

It can be understood, then, why it surprised the boy so much when an alien urge began to root about in his chest. There was nothing particularly silly in the way that Amelia sliced the mushrooms; she completed the job rather capably. She neither botch the job or displayed any sign of clumsiness that might have caused a chuckle or three. There was, in all honesty, nothing to laugh over at all.

But there it was all the same. The first, half choked sound sprang from his throat, its definition almost disguised by the hand over his mouth. But as Amelia continued on, now reaching for the block of ham, another followed and then another, until by the time she was finished and addressing him, Ian could no longer hide his reaction. His laughter broke through, uncontrolled yet subdued, in a surprisingly pleasant clatter of healthiness.

He held up a hand, hoping to stem whatever, probably annoyed, inquiries Amelia might throw his way. His breath caught and his chest slightly sore, he couldn't help the crooked smile that nudged his expression into one of nearing good-humor. "Remind me to not provoke you in the future, would hate to endure the same fate as those mushrooms."

0 Ian Who needs rainbows anyway? 0 Ian 0 5

Laurie

September 23, 2008 7:50 AM

Cruelly, cruelly belated, I know. by Laurie

Laurie couldn't help the skeptical expression that pursed her lips. Caviar and lobster tails on pizza? What sort of pizza was Chelsea eating exactly? Laurie had had the unfortunate experience of tasting caviar once before, and she hardly felt that throwing in tomatoes and cheese would add anything to its flavor. And lobster tails? Her eyes roamed the table; it would probably have been wiser to start with choosing ingredients they actually had as options.

"Or perhaps, something low in fat and calories."

Laurie held back a sigh. This was pizza. Pizza. Aside from whatever vegetable might be used with the pie, it was generally one of those foods that requires the maxim of 'everything in moderation.' She supposed the finger food could be turned into something healthier, though, if one used a multigrain dough for the crust with low-fat cheese and plenty of veggies. Lobster tails would certainly add nothing of healthiness to it.

"Sounds like a plan," she finally said, hoping that she could steer whatever silliness Chelsea threw her way into the normal realm of reality. "How about you choose the ingredients while I get started on the tomatoes?"

0 Laurie Cruelly, cruelly belated, I know. 0 Laurie 0 5

Gray

October 01, 2008 8:57 PM

Just as long as it's not the Next Great Adventure. by Gray

To Gray's surprise, Lucie didn't seem to mind his rambling. That was...new. Of course, he hadn't gone very far with his train of thought before he realized he was going, which was probably a factor in her un-annoyed-ness.

"I don't know, really," he said when she asked why his dad went by their full name. "Probably Grandma - she's a lot - more formal, I guess, than the rest of us. My Uncle John's the only person I've ever heard her use a nickname for." A nickname he wasn't always sure his uncle liked, but it was a labor of Hercules to find things John did like. "What's, uh, your dad's name?" There were lots of things that could be shortened to Al, and Gray liked collecting names with a common nickname that were not actually very common for the Phil and Missy stories.

He was careful, as he'd promised to be, to mind what he was doing as he sliced the cheese with a severing charm and did his best to slice the slices into the tiny little pieces he had seen on pizzas at home. He suspected there was a better charm to use if he was trying to grate cheese, but if first and second years had learned it already, he didn't remember it. The product wasn't as fine as he might have liked, but, between him being a half-blind twelve-year-old bookworm and there being an accepted rule about almost nobody liking his own cooking as well as he did someone else's, he thought it would do. He glanced up as Lucie poked at the sauce.

"I think so," he said, looking at it critically. The thing that made potions generally better than cooking was that a potion usually didn't turn the right color until all steps had been correctly followed while the sauce had started as chunky red gloop and would end as chunky red gloop. "It's, it's been cooking for a while now, and it isn't burning up yet, so..." He shrugged and checked his watch, picking the directions up so he could see them. "Looks like we're near the time she, uh, put on here, so I guess we can turn down the heat and let it cool."

Gray caught his lower lip between his teeth when she asked for an opinion on what should go on the third pizza. "You, uh, said you like it plain, so I guess we could leave that if you want it." A thought struck him as his eye fell on a supply of vegetables, and he grinned mischievously without realizing it. "Or we could put a bunch of vegetables on it and tell Professor Taylor that one's hers." Vegetables had lost Gray's stamp of approval about the time he'd moved to eating more real food than baby food.

16 Gray Just as long as it's not the Next Great Adventure. 113 Gray 0 5

Lucie

October 09, 2008 7:18 PM

Probably for the best. by Lucie

A nod of understanding came at Gray’s explanation about his grandmother. Her grandparents were the formal sort, very formal sort. They used their full names. They always ate in the dining room with a linen tablecloth, cloth napkins, and candles. Even a snack had to be eaten at the table. Come to think of it, her parents were the same way. Everything was always so formal in their house. It was amazing that Lucie was the way she was, but then she was more or less the exception to most familial rules.

“Oh,” Lucie said, biting her lip at the realization that Al could be short for a lot of other names. Alastair. Alex. Alvin. But it was none of those. “Alain. A. L. A. I. N.,” she spelled out, as there were multiple spellings of the name and she wanted to be clear as to which one it was. After all, she understood the importance of spelling one’s name correctly. People tended to misspell her name all of the time, favoring Lucy over Lucie, which was a shame as she was rather partial over the ‘ie’ at the end.

A wicked grin came to Lucie’s face over Gray’s suggestion. “That’s absolutely perfect!” She hated the way grownups were always going on and on about how one should eat all of their vegetables. Her mother even made them into a meal. Cucumber sandwiches were the worst. She detested vegetables with a passion. Picking up the sauce, she added some to the three mini-pizzas and then waited for Gray to add the cheese he took the time to do.

Once they were ready, Lucie looked over what vegetables they had. “It’s a shame that we don’t have any turnips. They’re evil.” She fully believed this statement and most people that probably heard such a thing would probably think her a little out there, but was it her fault that she had a healthily developed imagination. Continuing on topic, she said, “But there’s broccoli, mushrooms, spinach, and tomatoes that we can use.” Her nose wrinkled at the mention of each of them. Really gross.

0 Lucie Probably for the best. 0 Lucie 0 5

Gray

October 10, 2008 9:50 PM

Yeah, we're a bit young for that. by Gray

Gray had exactly enough social sense to know he probably should not say aloud that he thought that Lucie's father's name sounded like that of a patriarch on one of his mother's soaps. So, since that was the only thing he thought about it, he defaulted to a standard stock next-thing-to-say. "That's a nice name," he said.

His own name was mildly interesting, but in general, Gray thought his family tended toward dull names. There was no originality and no particular desire for any; the general feeling seemed to be that if any given name had been good enough for a relative, it was good enough for a new baby. Gray had occasionally wondered what people would do if he flatly refused to name his kids Grayson or Anne, but he'd long since come to the conclusion he would never have the nerve to actually do it. He was fairly indifferent toward the tradition, but some of the Wrights felt very strongly about it.

Gray grinned, pleased, when Lucie expressed approval of his idea before surveying their arsenal of foul foods. "Spinach is evil enough," he said. "Mushrooms, too." Broccoli was of the generally rotten category, and he could stand tomatoes, but spinach and mushrooms were awful. "Think we should have some of all of them on it or pick our least-favorites?"

16 Gray Yeah, we're a bit young for that. 113 Gray 0 5

Lucie

October 12, 2008 6:58 PM

I like being young. by Lucie

Lucie had to give considerable thought to the question proposed to whether it should be their least favorites or all of the vegetables. If it were of their least favorites, it would certainly be a disgusting pizza, but the possibility of the way it could look with all of the vegetables sounded like absolute fun. Besides, by picking their least favorites, they might actually make a pizza that the professor would adore, but then the professor might adore vegetables in general, which was really just icky. Though, this posed the question to whether or not it would actually get eaten at all.

“Um, let’s put a little of everything,” she decided, her hand already heading towards the mushrooms. With their current state of being, they sort of reminded her of a footstool, which sound about right since she thought they smelled like feet. Putting some down on the table, she used her wand to perform the severing charm. Unfortunately, the finished product was not really what she had intended. Instead, the mushrooms looked like chopped bits with a couple that actually resembled normally sliced mushrooms. It also made her iffy towards trying to do the tomatoes since they really didn’t need a mushy mess to add to everything else. “I’ll do the spinach if you do the tomatoes,” she offered.

Once everything was finished and they had time to kill, Lucie opted to try and continue the conversation along rather than letting it die down. “So, what else do you dislike besides spinach and mushrooms, or like, if you prefer? I read and write a lot,” she told him. Mostly, it was because she had an affinity towards doing so, but a little bit of it also came to the fact that she didn’t really fit into any of the groups that had formed, though, she was perfectly fine with this since she was quite capable of entertaining herself.

0 Lucie I like being young. 0 Lucie 0 5

Amelia

October 17, 2008 1:47 PM

Dorothy, I think by Amelia

OOC- Insert all ranges of apologies on belatedness and such here. Then repeat times six... at least.

BIC:
Of all the possible responses her partner could offer, Amelia had not, even for a second, thought he would laugh at her. In fact, she wasn't completely sure he was laughing at her exactly, but there wasn't much else he could really be laughing at... unless he found mushrooms particularly amusing. And yet Ian was definitely laughing. Amelia frowned. She wasn't used to being laughed at, and wasn't really sure what to do with it. Her confusion enabled her to hold her tongue long enough for Ian to try and explain himself. Well, he didn't do that exactly, but he did speak.

"Remind me to not provoke you in the future, would hate to endure the same fate as those mushrooms," Ian said.

Amelia continued frowning at him. She wasn't really sure there was anything funny about that. In fact, if she thought about it, Amelia was sure she could find a compliment in there somewhere, though was just as certain it was unintentionally done. Boys were weird, especially this one. He was perhaps the most bizarre person Milly had ever met, and she had some rather peculiar relatives. "You're very odd," she told him, as if it were indisputable fact.

0 Amelia Dorothy, I think 0 Amelia 0 5

Gray

October 18, 2008 3:11 PM

I have no objections to it. by Gray

"Sure, sure thing," Gray said when Lucie asked if he'd cut the spinach while she did tomatoes. He had already chopped the tomatoes for the sauce without major incident, so that worked out fine. He tried very hard to be a little neater, this time, but that didn't work out so well. He guessed he would just have to cross his fingers when he finished with them and hope Professor Taylor's idea of an edible product didn't include the product being attractive.

When Lucie first tried continuing their conversation, Gray assumed she was talking about food preferences, but then a pair of golden words clarified the issue, and his face lit up with excitement. "That's - that's what I do, too!" Gray exclaimed, almost reaching for his bag and the first three pages of the latest story therein before he thought better of it. "Pretty much all I do, actually - I want to win the Emurian Award someday." A bit ambitious, he knew - it was, after all, one of the most prestigious awards for fictions in the country - but he'd read enough history to know that less likely people had done bigger things.

"What do you like to read?" he asked, jumping from one of the subtopics to another without thought. "I'll read most anything, but I, I like histories and mythologies best of all." He also had a pronounced soft spot for M.L. Marklin and the Silas Wilkers books about Muggle schooling and daily life, but that wasn't something he told anyone. He'd figured out, somehow and at some point, that learned people didn't exactly consider them high literature.

16 Gray I have no objections to it. 113 Gray 0 5