Sustitute Professor Jera Valson

August 31, 2014 3:38 PM
Having spent the vast majority of her summer working with dragons, Jera had returned to the Opening Feast quite well singed, with neither of her eyebrows wholly intact. This far into term, however, she was once again resembling a professional educator, albeit one who valued comfort and necessity over aesthetics; her plum-coloured robes had once been new and good quality, but were now a little worn around the sleeves and hem. Her dark hair was pulled into a simple ponytail and her bottle-green dragonhide boots were in need of polishing. Nevertheless, she greeted the first and second year students with a smile as she once again stepped up to take the Beginner’s Defense Against the Dark Arts class in the absence of their full-time professor.

“Good day, everyone,” Professor Valson greeted cheerfully, and she closed the classroom door only after she had taken attendance. “Okay, so today we’re going to continue with your current topic of fear,” she resumed their syllabus; they had been touching on the many ways in which fear could be used as a weapon when an opponent was using the Dark Arts. “As a quick recap, a boggart will transform itself into your greatest fear, and a Dementor will force you to relieve your most feared experiences.” Naturally, the first and second year students before her were not sufficiently advanced – magically nor emotionally - to study either of these Dark creatures in significant detail, but the curriculum evidently enabled a level of awareness.

“It is important, then, that you are able to acknowledge and control your fears in order to reduce the severity of any personal attacks, however unlikely they may be.” True, it could never be predicted when the next witch or wizard would become too big for his or her boots and start causing a ruckus, but the substitute professor didn’t want to instil unnecessary fear in her young pupils. “Our practical class for today is an excellent first step in that direction.”

Here the professor paused her speech to retrieve her wand from inside her sleeve, and to rip a strip of parchment – about one inch wide by three inches long – from the sheet on her desk. “First you need some parchment or paper,” she held up the strip. “I would like you to consider for a few moments, and write down what you think your worst fear might be. Then, you are to cast the first of two spells.” Professor Valson waved her wand and drew the stduents’ attention to two incantations written on the board. “Obscuro should make your writing invisible to onlookers,” Jera continued. “Finally, you are to pick a partner, and cast the second spell, Revelio, to try and read what was written on the paper.” Depending on the relative skill levels of both students involved, this second spell might work, or it might not, if the initial spell was sufficiently well cast. It was not Jera’s plan to share this information, however; she would rather permit the boys and girls to make this discovery unaided.

“Your homework, which you may begin in class, is to write an essay detailing the history and current uses of each of these two spells. If anyone has any queries, please attract my attention,” said professor Valson. “Otherwise, you may begin.”

(OOC: Please stick to site rules when posting here. Housepoints will be awarded based on quality of your response, including writing ability, creativity, relevance to the class and interaction with other authors. If you have any OOC questions please ask them on the OOC board. If you need the professor IC, please Tag Jera in the subject line. Thank you, and have fun!)
Subthreads:
0 Sustitute Professor Jera Valson Beginners (1&2) DADA - No Fear 0 Sustitute Professor Jera Valson 1 5

John Umland, Aladren

September 04, 2014 4:39 PM
“I’m here, I’m here, I’m here – “ muttered John under his breath as he hurried into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom just ahead of the bell. Falling into the first available desk he found, he began pulling things out of his bag before he even got his legs under the writing table and winced when he turned the top of his ink bottle too quickly and some of the ink within sloshed out onto his thumb and index finger. Hurriedly, he shook back his sleeve and, for lack of a better solution, stuck the affected fingers into the bottle of pen cleaner he pulled out next. It would probably be a while before all the traces came out from under and around his nails (the makers of his brand of ink were not kidding when they said the stuff was permanent), but he thought the alcohol would get rid of the worst of the evidence.

It also burned, a reminder of the layer of skin he’d taken off the end of the index finger in the Gardens the day before. He shook his hand as he pulled his fingers back out of the pen cleaner, scattering drops of ink-laced solution over the surface of the desk; giving it up, he blotted those with his other sleeve, figuring he’d let whoever did the laundry deal with the robe later. Grabbing his second-favorite pen in one hand, he opened his notebook with the other and got to the right place in his notes a breath before Professor Valson called his name for attendance.

“I’m here!” he exclaimed, a little more triumphantly than was probably necessary. He was not having a very good day, so at the moment, it did almost feel like an accomplishment.

He read over his notes as Professor Valson recapped the unit so far. The previous classes had not been very interesting themselves, but they had led to interesting reading. Boggarts and dementors weren’t classed as magical creatures, but pogrebins, which also induced bad feelings in people near them, were, which he hadn’t been able to find an explanation for yet. Boggarts were apparently even harder to study than he would have imagined (no one up to the level of his sister Julian’s fifth year books, anyway, seemed to know anything about them except that they looked like what the nearest person or people most feared and that they were somehow banished or destroyed, they weren’t even sure about that, by laughter), which could account for them, but there was more data on dementors. Fifth years, at least, didn’t know how they did what they did, but they had a form, and the four pages of book on the subject had also said they multiplied like fungi (unfortunately failing to specify if they did so literally or if that was a bad metaphor) and were sometimes, basically, employed as guards and torturers – all of which pointed toward them being alive and fairly intelligent. Horrible, but alive and fairly intelligent. How, then, they were apparently classed as neither beast nor being intrigued him, enough so that he was considering just asking his Defense and Care of Magical Creatures teachers to see if they could explain it, since he hadn’t found it written down anywhere yet.

It had also gotten them a place on his list of things to somehow get tissue samples from someday, though at the rate his experiments were going, he would be so old he’d forget what he was doing between one side of the lab and the other before he got to that level of study. He had figured out how to collaborate with someone with access to at least basic scientific equipment back home, but he kept running into problems when it came to actually doing that. First the slides he had prepared for his partner to look at had all kept breaking between Arizona and Calgary, and then all the Transfiguration samples had reverted to their original forms during the same journey, and then some of the surviving samples had kind of started to decompose in the mail. His partner had been...particularly unamused by that last problem. Finally, desperate to get some results so that the whole project wouldn't be a complete waste of a risk, he had found a dry stick in the Gardens, broken it in two, Transfigured half, waited for that to go back to normal, and taken samples from both halves so they could at least maybe see if Transfigured materials truly returned to their beginning states. He had given up on preparing the slides himself; clearly, microscope slides were just not sturdy enough to send a bit over 2,250 kilometers by owl unaltered, and his attempt at reinforcing them magically had just made entirely unrelated glass items in his room begin to explode at random for a few minutes. Uric the Oddball only knew what the second year guys thought was going on next door sometimes....

He rubbed his head, trying to put his independent project woes out of his mind for now. The spells Professor Valson taught them didn't sound like they had much to do with fear resistance to him, but did seem like okay things to know. It took him only a few seconds to realize a problem with the main use he would want to put them to – people saw him writing in his pocket notebook all the time, so it would be obvious he was hiding something if someone ever grabbed it away from him and found that it looked blank, and since they all knew the revealing charm, too, that would make the whole exercise kind of pointless – but still, maybe useful. Definitely useful in the Muggle world, anyway, and maybe there was a way to write the real stuff, Obscure it, then write something else on top, obscure the top part, reveal the real stuff when he wanted to read his notes, then hide his notes again and bring the top stuff back once he was done reading. He decided to see if he could get it to work once he mastered the one-layer version of the spells.

First, though, there was figuring out what to write down. Last year, he’d had a worst fear, but nothing bad had happened and the chances of someone else he liked getting caught up in a freak magical accident were so slim that he didn’t really worry about it. The last time he’d seen a boggart, it had been something huge, he thought with tentacles, but he had only gotten a glimpse of it before he’d slammed the trunk lid shut again and then started running very fast in the opposite direction, so he didn’t know what he’d call that….

Volcanoes, he wrote finally. Reasonable enough, he guessed – Pompeii and Herculaneum weren’t fun things to think about being caught up in. Admittedly, they had been hugely helpful to historians, once they were able to dig them up, but it wouldn’t have been fun to be there. Pliny the Elder had died there, though that might have just been a heart attack or something – a loss to scholarship, anyway, and he had to write something, so that would do for now.

Now he had to make it disappear. Or become impossible to see with the naked eye, anyway; technically, the writing was still there….

He frowned, his attention wandering away to how the spell worked. Obscuring something meant hiding it, so it wasn’t that the ink became invisible. That meant it had to either become the same color as the paper or that the paper sort of – grew over it? That sounded crazy, but it was magic, and that would help with impressions, too – the impressions of the letters wouldn’t still be there for anyone with a sheet of thin paper and a stick of graphite to copy and work out. Or the texture and color of the ink might change to get the same effect….

“Yeah, I think that makes – “ he started to say, then realized this was probably not the correct response to whatever had just been said to him by another student. "Er - sorry, I have no idea what you just said," he said instead. "Sorry. My fault. If you want to say it again, I'll listen this time," he added contritely. Then he'd ask them what they had imagined was happening while casting the spell, if they had already succeeded (he wasn't sure how long he had been woolgathering; he didn't think it had really been that long, but if his neighbor was skilled at this sort of charm, they might have finished it already), and experiment with that, too, to see if maybe different visualizations yielded different results, sort of like Transfiguration. He twisted his pen between his fingers, hoping he could remember both of the things he wanted to try long enough to hopefully patch things up with his neighbor before he wrote them down.
16 John Umland, Aladren Fear is the mind-killer. 285 John Umland, Aladren 0 5


Lena Westley, Aladren

September 07, 2014 3:44 AM
Lena had more than a distinct impression she'd interrupted her fellow Aladren, she knew she had when he answered her with a completely irrelevant start to a sentence. "I was wondering if you wanted to be partners." Very unlike Lena to take initiative, she had been so frustrated over having her accent flub the obscuro spell (she had a hard time fitting that 'y' sound between the 'k' and 'oo') that she wanted to see if it had worked well enough or not.She couldn't tell what exactly was wrong with the parchment, but she felt as if someone could tell there was something written, that somehow it was not properly hidden. Not a perfectionist, but not having had enough sleep, she became frustrated and wanted it to be revealed as soon as possible so she could move on to her essay.

Sure enough, when the boy said Revelio the words "Olivier's unhappiness" showed up dark and blotchy, a little distorted and not quite in her usual hand. It looked as if the words had tried to disappear in a whirlpool and had only had the slightest of tugs before being inched back and forth in a rocky wave of invisible motion. It had been invisible at least, but now seeing the actual ink the product of her labor definitely reminded her of a badly photo-shopped picture.

Exhaling a final frustrated sigh she got out another piece of parchment and started writing all she knew about the two spells (not very much aside for their outcome) and did her house shame. "When you're done with the first spell let me know if you want me to try uncovering it."

The writing was harder than she expected; not being to pronounce them properly gave her little confidence but their uses seemed apparent. She didn't know where they were elsewhere applied other than in school or possibly diaries but thought maybe if it were extremely well cast, some important documents. Maybe the Ministry of Magic's legal papers or magical bank statements. She didn't know how practical Obscuro was if it could be undone with Revelio but opted for a longer paragraph about the first. Her second paragraph would have to be about girl's diaries since she couldn't think of any uses for Revelio other than military spying (or receiving end of bank statements, etc.), and she thought it unlikely that she could write anything new.

OOC: Lena is from Wales, so her long vowel pronunciation messed the spell up considerably. It wouldn't work at all before the 'y' sound, but now it's just not well cast.
7 Lena Westley, Aladren Oh, Boggart-Boggart 279 Lena Westley, Aladren 0 5

Oliver Ferguson II, Aladren

September 08, 2014 7:44 AM
Oliver rolled his eyes. He mostly didn't mind his classes and there was nothing wrong with this particular spell but he didn't like the method one bit. Why would anyone be stupid enough to share their fears with another student? Why would a teacher do that to them?

On the other hand, learning the fear of others could be beneficial. The Aladren could know the weaknesses of others that way. Not that there was anyone in particular that he wanted dirt on, but he could have an advantage knowing that. Or if they knew his worst fear, he could blackmail them. He'd keep their secret if they kept his, it was as simple as that.

He had no doubts he could do the spell of course. His grandfather was an exceptionally powerful wizard, and some of that had to trickle down to him. Plus, Oliver was brilliant, more so than the bulk of his classmates. It was likely that he'd be able to hide his perfectly, and his partner wouldn't be able to do the second one.

The thing was, the second year didn't really know what his worst fear was and he remained unwilling to let anyone else know either. He was not one to give others power over him. Parents and faculty maybe but other students, who were mostly in no way his equals, let alone superior. Oliver wanted to have all the power for himself. Over his classmates-and his cousins too.

Maybe that was his worst fear. Being powerless, letting others be more so. Not that he ever would. The Aladren might not have been an heir-to his great annoyance, why did his grandfather's older brother have to have sons-but he was still an important member of pureblood society and his classmates were not .

Not that Oliver was going to let others see his worst fear either. If they knew that was it, well, that would make them try harder to get it. So, he wrote down something else entirely.

Not getting an adequate education because the professors are incompetent and use idiotic methods to teach.

Next he practiced the spell and when he was sure that everything was perfectly hidden, he smirked and scanned the room for an acceptable partner. Just anyone wouldn't do. Of course, if someone didn't meet that criteria, Oliver could at least dominate them. There was no way he was letting someone inferior to him in society get the upper hand. As there were advantages to both situations, he turned to the person next to him and asked "Do you want to work with me?" It might have been phrased as a question, but it came out more like an order. Of course, Oliver had no problem with this.
11 Oliver Ferguson II, Aladren You're kidding right? 278 Oliver Ferguson II, Aladren 0 5

John Umland

September 09, 2014 11:09 PM
Oh, right. He had to complete the assigned spells before he could start experimenting with them. Mom said he always tried to run before he walked and he couldn’t say she was wrong about that. He had fallen flat on his face too many times to make anything like a strong argument in his own defense.

“Ah – yeah, sure…right,” he said, forcing a fake, awkward smile in his embarrassment over his distraction. “I haven’t, you know, gotten anything hidden yet, but…yeah, I’ll try out yours.”

Now Lena probably thought he was an idiot who couldn’t cast spells properly, but he couldn’t see anything to do about it but prove he could perform the revealing spell and find out…whatever she thought her worst fear was. Which was really kind of an uncomfortable thing, now that he thought about it, to consider admitting to someone who, though they worked the same shifts in the library on Tuesdays and Sundays, she didn’t really know. He didn’t care, but he had noticed that the stuff which bothered most people…really didn’t bother him a lot of the time, and he had figured out last year that fears were something people were Not Supposed To Talk About. His brother Paul said it was wrong to do it because it increased everyone else’s burden – not really a factor here, admittedly, but maybe it being something it was wrong to talk about was why this girl had picked a first year who still had visible writing on his scrap of parchment for a partner – she assumed he wouldn’t be able to do it? That would make pretending he couldn’t the nice thing to do, except that would be – inaccurate, wrong….

John blinked, shook his head, and tried the spell. “Revelio.

Still flustered over his early inattention and possible bad impression, he was more focused than usual and so the words began to reveal themselves on the page. Squinting, he muttered the word under his breath again and – there it was. Olivier’s unhappiness. Odd thing to list as one’s worst fear, but since the best he’d been able to come up with had been inspired by the death of a long-dead Roman lawyer-naturalist, he guessed he had no room to judge. He just hoped it was because she really liked Olivier instead of because Olivier took it out on her when he was unhappy or something, in which case Olivier needed to go get Transfigured into something embarrassing for a while….

“Er – there you go,” he said, handing it back to her. He nodded when she made her offer. “Yeah, sure,” he repeated. Fascinating conversationalist he was today; sometimes that happened.

Now he just had to quickly finish the first version of the first spell and let Lena have a try at revealing it before he started trying to figure out how it worked. He squinted at the word volcanoes and tried picturing it disappearing the first way he had imagined, where the ink changed to the color of the page. Lena’s had looked funny when he revealed it, so maybe she had done it wrong – not so it hadn’t worked, maybe, just so it wasn’t as good as it could possibly be. He’d have to see if his would do the same thing, one way or another….

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to cut off the flow of ideas and images in his head – paper types, print, inks, books, pens, pencils, hidden things, concealment, camouflage. He was not going to get this done if he let the image of a tiger linger in his head for more than the split second it took him to realize he was getting wildly off track. No tigers. He was not allowed to think about tigers, the spells on the school, what qualified as a magical creature, or anything else right now except how to get the word volcanoes to disappear.

He opened his eyes. Tried the spell. The word turned orange. He closed his eyes again, this time in frustration. Stupid tigers. He opened his eyes again, tried again. This time, the words began to fade on the page, and he regarded where they had been with a small smile as he ran his fingers over the page, feeling where they were but not seeing them now.

“Here you go – “ he said to Lena, then saw she was writing something – probably her essay, Mom said it was best to go ahead and start homework in extra class time if there was any, so he wouldn’t have it to do later on, when he had more homework and things to do than he did when he was given the assignment. “Sorry. Good thinking, getting started,” he said. “I’m going to play around with the spell a little – see if how I picture it disappearing affects how it works,” he said conversationally as he handed a seemingly-blank scrap to her. "Then start working on the essay. What uses have you come up with?" History was more straightforward, but when thinking of 'uses,' collaboration might help them both.
16 John Umland Not sure they're in the habit of coming when called. 285 John Umland 0 5

Chaslyn Brockert,Crotalus

September 12, 2014 6:30 PM
Chaslyn got to class not just on time, but early as usual. She usually spent the time waiting for it to start to study. Or go over her homework again, not only for DADA but for the other classes as well. Even though she had stayed up until midnight re-writing her Potions essay, she still wasn't satisfied with it. At all. Chaslyn was now a mix of over tired and anxious about how well she'd do. Nothing less than a perfect score would be acceptable to both her and her mother and she desperately did not want Mother angry or disappointed with her. She already felt like a failure for not making any friends yet, let alone appropriate ones.

She snapped to attention as Professor Valson began the class. As soon as she heard what the lesson was, she turned pale and felt even more sick to her stomach than she had been already. Let someone else know her worst fear? If Chaslyn couldn't get the spell perfectly, the stakes would be even higher than displeasing Mother or Professor Valson, she'd look foolish to one of her classmates too. Said classmate would make fun of her, and possibly others would too if her partner told.

All the Crotalus wanted to do was run out of the room but that would be worse. It could cost her a chance of prefect and Head Girl and then Mother would be furious . Not to mention doing so would just make her classmates laugh at her more . She felt like at least slumping down in her chair, but that was unacceptable as well.

Nor could she lie about what her worst fear was either, she'd get in trouble for that too. Plus, anything Chaslyn would be able to come up with would be just as embarrassing. Her real one was just as bad though. Failing, disappointing her mother and others. Not being perfect, as nothing less than perfection was acceptable. She really didn't want to let anyone know any of that. She didn't want it to seem like she was insulting Mother either and she didn't want anyone to think she was. Everything her mother wanted her to do was for her own betterment anyway.

The second year wished she could just disappear. Or say she was sick, which at this point was only sort of a lie, but she didn't want to lie at all. Plus it would just draw attention to her and it would be humiliating. Not to mention that it might not make a difference. Professor Valson might not even care, she might think it was better for Chaslyn if she stayed here and did this. It probably would, like when she had to attend lessons at home no matter what most of the time. This was a spell that she needed to learn, even if she didn't know for what purpose off the top of her head.

And that wasn't good either. Chaslyn was supposed to know that. She wasn't supposed to get anything wrong ever. It had to be just because she wasn't thinking clearly. That had to be it. She was in such a panic over the lesson that she had forgotten that.

She took a deep breath. The only thing she could do now was resign herself to her fate. However, there was no way she could do partner up with someone until she had the spell perfect. That was not any different than usual really. One of the last things Chaslyn would ever want is for anyone to see her fail. Or to fail at all really-and right now, it was even more important than usual to get everything perfect.

Chaslyn drew a line on her paper. Just a line. She didn't want to chance anyone seeing her worst fear if she couldn't get the spell. She needed to practice first until she got it right. Even if she wasn't terrified, there was still the fear of not being perfect. "Obscuro" . The line faded for a second before going back to what it was. The Crotalus frowned. She had to get this. Everything depended on it.

Footsteps approached and someone stood over her. She froze. "Can I help you?" Chaslyn asked, managing to keep the shakiness out of her voice. At least there was that.
11 Chaslyn Brockert,Crotalus Lots of fears. 281 Chaslyn Brockert,Crotalus 0 5


Olivier Westley, Crotalus

September 14, 2014 9:27 PM
OOC: Disclaimer: The opinions and views expressed herein by Olivier Westly are not those of his authors who would like to take this opportunity to apologize ahead of time for his behavior.

Defence Against the Dark Arts. Probably the most useless class there was at Sonora. The rest of them, Charms, Transfiguration, even Care of Magical Creatures, Olivier could see a use in them- if not barely. But Defense Against the Dark Arts? Completely useless. If there really was a dark wizard (or witch) threatening the good people of Magicville then they would all be doomed because dark witches and wizards didn't stop to consider the morality of their actions, they didn't care who they got rid of, everyone was just a pawn to them, and it didn't matter how much one tried to stop them, they'd always triumph in the end. It was their desire to conquer that drove them, an insatiable desire that no good person would ever be able to match-- nothing in the arsenal of a "good" witch or "wizard" would stand against a cold blooded killer who threw out Crucios and Avada Kedavas like candy at a parade or who wouldn't hesitate to Imperio the living crude out of you until you'd kill even your own mother if so asked. Therefore, in Olivier's humble opinion, Defense was a completely useless class-- at least the way it was taught here.

He did, however, attend it. He did, however, do his homework. He did, however, perform well on his exams and study because he did have to keep the adults pacified. If he even stepped one toe out of line, showed even the slightest inkling of rebellion against their strange ideals then he would stand out from the crowd, making him a clear target for anyone with a more...nefarious agenda. And if he wasn't around then there would be no one to protect Lena. He gazed fondly at his twin sister as she carefully wrote down her fear-- obedient and pure down to the last bone. Poor Lena. Perhaps the only thing in the world that he truly feared was the loss of her innocence, but that wasn't something he was likely to share with anyone else.

Olivier carefully tore a piece of parchment precisely in half and thought about how he might approach the lesson. He could think of a few fears-- not even he was devoid of all human emotions, but the idea of writing them down for the world to see was asking for trouble. It didn’t take him long before he thought of a suitable, albeit equally ridiculous, fear. “Public Speaking,” he wrote down in his clear script, feeling that it was a common enough fear to be believable. It was the type of fear that really couldn’t be used against him, so even if it was true he wouldn’t have anything to worry about. He took a deep breath before performing the Obscuro spell on it. He cast it probably more times than necessary in order to ensure the complete cover up of his "deepest", "darkest" fear.

"Do you want to work with me?"

Olivier turned to the boy on his right. The tone of the question was really more order like than inquiring and Olivier wanted to laugh at the child's rookie mistake. The first lesson that he had learned: One should never give their superior an order. For whatever disillusioned reason, this boy thought he was on equal grounds with Oliver. What a perfect example of the idiocy housed by this less than satisfactory institution. The second lesson was this: if you're angry at the world or feel entitlement to something, don't show it-- people are more likely to give you what you want if you appear to be sensitive to their wants and needs. Now, while the second lesson generally tended to lead to more mindless conversations than Olivier cared to participate in, he would still play it out. Once he was through with school and graduated (and ensured that Lena was properly- and happily -married to someone who would take good care of her) then he would never have to live through the facade of liking people ever again.

Nevertheless, he was still (only) twelve and, while he knew he had a lot more common sense than most of the faculty and older students, any of his year mates, and most definitely all of the first years, he kept quiet on that front and allowed people to think he was a sniveling do-gooder whose main purpose in life was to please others. "I don't see why not," he replied to the boy who he identified as Ferguson, an Aladren in his year. While he did not particularly care to know the individual names of each of his classmates, Olivier found that it was at the very least practical to know the names of people lower on the intellectual scale than he as it was useful to know when contemplating future endeavors in the event he ever needed to use anyone to achieve his desires. Olivier was a lot more calculating than people gave him credit for, probably due to the way he was able to cover up his feelings of boredom and frustration with smiles and friendly jabs-- most of which had their roots in a rather more sinister opinion. "We all have to have a partner in the end, anyway."

Geeze. With an attitude like that, it wouldn't have been surprising if his outer character had been placed in Teppenpaw should they have been two different people. Olivier smiled generously at Ferguson tapped the paper in front of him with his wand, his voice as commanding as he would allow it to be in public, and clearly said "Revelio." Of course nothing happened the very first time he cast the spell, in part due to his Welsh accent, in part due to it being the first time he had tried to cast it, so Olivier prepared himself to cast the spell again.

The words began to reveal themselves to him and just when Olivier was able to make out the words written on the page before him, the spell stopped working. Slightly frustrated but also taking pleasure in that this exercise had only proved his point that Defense was a useless class, Olivier squinted so that he might read what Ferguson had written. Not getting an adequate education because the professors are incompetent and use idiotic methods to teach. Ah, so Ferguson seemed to be on a similar page as Olivier when it came to the school and the teachers in it. He was obviously an exception in the sea of other students who blindly followed their equally blind teachers, but it was far too early to tell. He smiled wryly to himself (it disappearing before anyone who happened to be watching him could see it) and made a mental note of the incident. If the boy was even a fraction as smart as Olivier was, which he highly doubted, then it would do Olivier well to keep tabs on him. After all, Ferguson could come in handy later down the road if he proved himself to be of higher intellectual quality than the rest of the trash at Sonora-- which, to be fair (and Oliver was all about being fair) wasn’t setting the bar very high to begin with.

Olivier thought over Ferguson's fear before opening his mouth. "I suppose it is a rather silly lesson," he said making sure to open his eyes wide giving him the look of an innocent. "I am glad I wasn't the only one to think so, but I'm also glad there weren't any dementors or boggarts brought in." He gave a realistic looking shudder. "That would have been too scary for words."
10 Olivier Westley, Crotalus I never kid. 282 Olivier Westley, Crotalus 0 5


Liac Reinhardt, Teppenpaw

September 14, 2014 10:53 PM
It was that time of the day when Liac’s brain was moving from alert to sluggish. After an almost full day of classes, the last thing he wanted to do was go to more classes, especially one like DADA. Although some of the spells could be useful to metal-charming, sitting quietly through the lectures was never his forte. He fancied himself a ‘hands on’ type of person, much more than a note taker. When the Teppenpaw entered, he seated himself at a table, reluctantly taking out his parchment paper to ‘take notes’. However, if he found the class was just too boring to bare, his handy journal of doodles was within arms reach. Liac figured if he missed anything he could always ask Tobi for the notes, and a recap if necessary. It was a weird feeling for him to be mentally exhausted instead of physically. Usually by the end of the day he was tired to the bone from helping his dad in the workshop all day, but Sonora was a different beast all it’s own.

When Professor Valson began to talk about boggarts, Liac immediately lost interest. He would have to decide later if any of the spells they learn in this class would be metal-charm worthy. He opened his bound journal and began to draw some doodles of different objects, some jewelry, some abstract shapes, but all possible metalchams. However with the talk of practicality and possibility for a hands on experience, Liac peaked up from his drawings, much more eager than before. Finally! Something he could use!

Although the homework assignment seemed boring, the task in class was a little more on the fun side- at least he was going to make it fun. Liac quickly ripped a piece of paper and readied his quill to write a ‘fear’. Writing down a real fear would be too easy, he figured it would be much funnier to write down something weird. After much deliberation, Liac decided that pickles were his worst ‘fear’. The saltiness, the green liquid, the MASON JARS! What could be more bloodcurdling?! He smiled to himself, pleased with his genius and wrote in the clearest writing he could manage. He didn’t want the joke to be ruined if his partner had to ask him what it said.

Placing the parchment down on the table, he readied his wand. “Obscuro” he commanded, the writing flickered back and forth between visible and invisible before finally fading ever so slightly. Liac blinked, deciding it was still too visible, before he tried it once more. “Obscuro” he said once more, trying to concentrate on the word. This time the word only blinked once before fading completely. He watched it intently for a moment to see if it would stay invisible. After several seconds of staring at a blank piece of paper, he decided it was probably good enough. He just hoped that his partner would do the reverse spell correctly.

The next phase of the joke would be finding the perfect candidate. He looked around the room for someone that hadn’t partnered up yet. Liac noticed a girl and thought she would play the part of his lovely assistant perfectly. He walked over to her confidently, yet trying not to seem to overly eager. He didn’t want her to think he was up to something. He just desperately wanted someone to see his work and hopefully have a good laugh with him.

"Can I help you?" she asked once he reached her.

“You are Miss Brockert, correct?” Liac asked making sure to be a little formal. His Mother would have smacked him in the back of the head if he didn’t address a girl properly. Even though his mom was a muggle, she was just as prim and proper as the rest of his family- not to mention tough. It's not as if he would have ever addressed a girl as informally as he does Tobi. The importance of addressing clients and remembering their names was one of the first lessons Liac learned from his Father. Miss Brockert wasn’t a client, but he tried to use the same technique when talking to her. Although he wasn’t as good at remembering names when they didn’t have to do with anything metal-charming, so he was only 75% sure her name was Chaslyn. “Let’s Partner up,” he continued, giving her a warm smile.

OOC: Permission to adress Tobi given by his author.
0 Liac Reinhardt, Teppenpaw Then how about a Laugh? 288 Liac Reinhardt, Teppenpaw 0 5


Lena Westley

September 15, 2014 1:25 AM
Despite their shifts together Lena hadn't really talked with John 'til now. Not that they were making particular headway, but it was progress. After putting the essay writing on halt she accepted her house mate's parchment and replied "I was on a paragraph about possible military usage, like an alternative for enigma machines. I'm not sure how practical the first spell is in the 'wizarding' world if it can be undone so easily, though."

Her voice leveling off, Lena put down her pen and readied her wand. Concentrating on the pristine piece of paper in front of her, she tried the spell and came up short. Nothing was on the parchment, blotchy, misshapen or otherwise. It was barren, no indication of it having been used at all. This class had been nothing but disheartening. Maybe I'm not cut out to be a witch. A glum thought, but not altogether misguided, she thought. She'd never been a particularly ambitious individual; maybe simple spells were all she'd ever be able to accomplish. Then it occurred to her, this was supposed to be a simple spell. Although what she'd envisioned her magic being put to use with were things like enchanting cleaning supplies and letting them have at it, but really how much different could those be in terms of level of proficiency needed from this spell?

Giving up and turning back to something she could do, she engaged John in conversation again. "I'm also a bit stumped as to uses for Revelio. If you're experimenting, maybe you could try to see if it can undo other encryptions or if being the counter spell for Obscuro is the extent of it."

Not having had enough sleep and now her doubt about her magical potential had had the unexpected result of companionate discussion with her fellow Aladren. John had already done several new things with the spells- he would be better able to test new versions than Lena, who couldn’t do the plain versions well. Had Olivier been in her class she would have been made to practice before giving up. Her twin was a better wizard than she was a witch and so it would have resulted in a similar situation that she was in now. As it was she could let John take the reins in spellcasting and she could support him with further ideas. Olivier had been the only person Lena spoke to openly but even they didn’t have very long conversations. Most times he knew what she wanted, what she liked and although he encouraged her to step outside her comfort zone, usually conceded to her preference.

It was different, and difficult, talking this much. It wasn't a bad thing, and she wasn't exactly frustrated but she felt a bit awkward hearing her voice so often. The right words escaped her many times when she was trying to describe ways John might be able to make the words disappear, having found that just as interesting as the assignment. She wanted to see if they –he- could make them levitate off the paper and then disappear but that may have required a different spell since even he couldn't get it to work. They played around with various “special effect” styles, her favorite being when each letter burst like a bubble, one at a time as it went down the line. They did eventually get back to their homework assignment, and she looked up from the paper they'd been playing with when he started to get back to it.
7 Lena Westley It was a censored, mild cussing 279 Lena Westley 0 5

Chaslyn

September 20, 2014 4:49 PM
Chaslyn nodded. "And you're Mr. Reinhardt?" She replied. The Crotalus paid close attention to who her classmates were, who was appropriate to know-or in other words, what would please her mother, who naturally stressed the importance of knowing the right people and not talking to the wrong ones. Mother didn't like non-purebloods and making acceptable friends was the only thing Amity had ever done right in her eyes.

Not that she really felt competive with her sister. She loved the sixth year, who had always comforted her when she was upset. Now she was off living with Aunt Alice and Uncle Robert. and Chaslyn wished she'd come back. Still, Amity had flat out refused, the Crotalus had heard her sister tell Father that she loved both him and Chaslyn, but she couldn't live with Mother anymore.

The conflict bothered her immensely and she'd cried inconsolably in private when the Aladren had ran away. Mother would just get mad if she saw. Mother was furious with Amity-not that that was unusual. To make matters worse, her sister had bonded with their cousin Kira and Chaslyn couldn't help being jealous and resentful, even if she did see the sixth year more than Kira did.

The name Reinhardt was semi-familiar, beyond Liac and his...relative being first years. Savannah and Scarlett were so lucky to have acceptable people in their year. There weren't that many in her own, or many people in general. Anyway, she assumed that Mr.Reinhardt was proper company. He had pretty good manners.

She forced a polite smile though inside she was in turmoil. While Chaslyn was glad to be talking to someone appropriate-it was awkward to talk to those that weren't as she feared getting in trouble for it-there was still the matter of letting someone else see her fear and to be honest, the fact that Mr. Reinhardt was from a good family, made her even more afraid. She didn't want to be thought of poorly by a member of society.

There was another matter as well. "I, um, haven't written anything down yet." Her face colored and she looked down at her lap. "Just a line. To practice."
11 Chaslyn I'd like that. 281 Chaslyn 0 5


Liac Reinhardt, Teppenpaw

September 22, 2014 11:41 PM
Liac smiled at the mention of his family name, pleased his classmate had remembered it. Despite the fact that they shared the same, small beginner classes, there was no guarantee that she would remember the name of a first year- let alone a half-blood. While attending elementary school there had never been any talk of being either pure or half-blood, as it was unnecessary in a demographic that consisted almost exclusively of Muggles. However, the idea of blood ranking was something that had always bugged Liac. As tradesmen, the Reinhardts held strong to the belief that it was skill, not blood, that mattered. Although it was a nice thought, Liac couldn’t help but wonder if the rest of the Wizarding World, particularly purebloods, would share the same ideology as his father’s family. It was something he wouldn’t express to anyone, but he was slightly envious that Tobi didn’t have to worry about such things as blood purity-- his cousin had it made. Liac tried his best to leave these thoughts in the back of his mind, but every once in a while they did resurface, and now that he had to interact with other wizards on a day to day basis. The way Liac saw it, there were two categories of people Miss Brockert could have fallen into by remembering his name; 1) A pureblood who didn’t care about blood status, or 2) A pureblood who was familiar with his family’s metal charming work. Either way, Miss Brockert had remembered he was a Reinhardt and above all else that was good enough for Liac.

Chaslyn smiled. "I, um, haven't written anything down yet,” she cast her eyes towards her lap before continuing. A small blush appeared on her cheeks. Liac thought it was rather cute. “Just a line. To practice.”

“So fearless you don’t have anything to write down?” he asked lightly with a smile to indicate he was just joking around. Judging by her body language, Liac wondered if she was embarrassed about something. Then again, the idea of someone seeing your fear was pretty embarrassing, or maybe she was horrible at magic and really needed the practice?

“I don’t think it really matters anyway, if you write down a real fear, I mean. It’s not like the professor will know either way.” Although he was pretty sure that the teacher would see through his “fear of pickles”, Liac believed taking the risk was worth it- if only for the sake of comedy! “I could wait until you are ready if you like. To be honest, my sheet could use a little work anyways,” he said showing her his paper. The i and the e of pickles were beginning to seep through, indicating that his work from earlier wasn’t nearly good enough to last beyond a span of a couple minutes. “I don’t want the constants reappearing too,” he added with a laugh. “If you want to be partners, that is,” he said, bracing himself to laugh it off if she declined. He didn’t want to pressure her into being his partner if she didn’t want to be. After all, she had never said ‘yes’ to being his partner in the first place. While he waited for her response, Liac glanced down towards his slip of paper to double check that none of his letters were showing.
0 Liac Reinhardt, Teppenpaw Then I will do my best. 288 Liac Reinhardt, Teppenpaw 0 5

Oliver

September 25, 2014 6:53 PM
Hmmm...Mr.Westly. The other Oliver. Oliver wasn't sure what to think of him, he seemed intelligent enough-though not as much as the Aladren was, of course-but so...eager to please. Hopefully that meant he'd be a good partner, someone with a fear Oliver could use to his advantage. Someone desperate to get his approval, as his approval was the most important one could get. Especially as it was a difficult thing to earn.

Of course, it was possible that Mr. Westly was putting on an act to appear smart when he was really just mediocre. Someone who studied hard to achieve what Oliver could easily. Not that the second year didn't study hard himself in order to be more superior to others than he naturally was.

Still, if the Crotalus did care so much about the challenges of learning, he should appreciate the challenge of earning Oliver's respect. Few ever did. Most people didn't deserve it. So the Aladren was really throwing his classmate a bone. Giving him a chance to ingratiate himself.

He had to be the one to dominate, always. Never let anyone get the upper hand, the way Nora thought she had. Someday, he was going to put his cousin in her place. She was a female anyway which made Oliver inherently superior. Women were meant to serve men, give in to their desires, follow their orders and have their babies. For the pureblood race. The sooner Nora learned that the better.

Oliver watched as Mr. Westly did the spell, more sizing him up than anything. He was somewhat pleased when the other boy didn't get it on the first try. Of course, when the Aladren did it, it wouldn't be his first time, because he read ahead and practiced the spell. At the moment, the educational aspect of school was more interesting than the social one, as there was hardly anyone worth associating with. So many of them lacked even a decent background, let alone his intellect. Oliver found most of them boring with their inane stupidity. He wanted someone he could have an intelligent conversation with. Anyone else was a waste of his time.

Before he could do the spell, Mr. Westly spoke. The Aladren successfully managed not to smirk. He was agreeing with Oliver or at least sucking up to him. Either was appreciated. "I would like to believe that anyone with a single brain cell wouldn't bring in a dementor. Can you imagine how reckless and irresponsible that would be?" He had to admit internally that he was glad it was a boggart either. That would show everyone what his worst fear truly was.

He took his wand and did the motion and spell over Mr. Westly's paper. " Revelio " The word was there, bright and clear. It wasn't at all surprising as Oliver had gotten the spell before when practicing and he couldn't imagine not doing so now. He wanted to smirk again but didn't. Public speaking, a fear of the weak-and the weak were easiest to dominate.

OOC-I totally understand, Oliver isn't any better. I apologize for him. Sorry it took so long to reply.
11 Oliver Me neither 278 Oliver 0 5

Chaslyn

September 29, 2014 6:26 PM

She managed a small smile. Chaslyn was far from fearless. "Hardly." In fact, she had lots of them. Not just her mother being disappointed in her-or anyone else being so for that matter, but Mother was the main person, the second year didn't want her mother to yell at her and hate her like she did Amity. However, Chaslyn was also afraid of things like rejection and she really didn't want Liac to reject her.

Admitting she had a fear wasn't really a big deal though. Most people did. It was admitting what exactly what her greatest fear was that she had an issue with. And how she tended to react to it. Chaslyn was just glad that it wasn't an actual boggart. That would be so humiliating . Come to think of it, being humiliated was another fear of hers.

"I know" She replied softly. "I'm not really comfortable lying though." The Crotalus admitted. She wasn't really good at it and it was hardly a Mother-approved skill. In fact, if Chaslyn lied to her, Mother would find out easily, because she'd be shaking, and would be furious with her. Nor did she stand up well under any sort of interrogation. She always started crying and her mother, at least, had no patience for her tears. The second year had no reason to think most people would. It always made things worse when she did.

"M-maybe I could write down a lesser fear?" She asked as if she needed his permission. Chaslyn had a tendency to seek approval from others habitually . She desperately wanted to be liked and accepted.

She nodded. "I-I'd like that...if you still want to work with me that is." She looked down at her paper again. "And thank you, I think I'd like to work on it a little more." Chaslyn had to get everything right. She simply couldn't fail at anything.
11 Chaslyn Thank you 281 Chaslyn 0 5

Joella Curtis

October 04, 2014 3:54 PM
Joella was excited at the mention of the word "practical". She was still slightly new to the idea of having her own wand and any opportunity to use it was exciting. She was eager to personalise and shape her own wand as soon as possible even if these things didn't happen particularly fast.

The word "fear" did not, however, instil nearly as much excitement in her. If anything they rather gave her a feeling of fear. Joella glanced around the classroom and was reminded just how new everything still was. Picking a partner? That was just one of the many problems in front of her. Aside from this was the question: the truth or not? Perhaps she was just over-thinking but the Pecari found her mind already guessing at the contents of the next lesson. Would it be a disadvantage if at least one pupil knew what she considered to be her worst fear?

However, the first year quickly decided that this was the most ridiculous train of thought she recalled ever having had. Professor Valson had made it very clear that they were supposed to write down their worst fear so that's what Joella would do even if she did feel uncertain about the idea of giving this precious information to another pupil. She could only hope that this pupil wouldn't turn out to be her worst enemy. Or maybe her partner wouldn't be able to perform the spell correctly? That would be handy.

The next silent query Joella had for herself was the question of how specific she was. Who was she kidding? The eleven year old didn't want to write anything, let alone be specific about it. With an inward shrug and a small sigh, Joella hurriedly scrawled the word 'death' onto her piece of parchment. Was it too obvious? Too lame? But it was true, wasn't it? Joella had no hope whatsoever for herself, or anyone she cared about, to die. And the best part was that it could hardly be used against her if it was discovered by her partner - what kind of Sonora student would decide to kill a first year just for fun?

"Obscuro," Joella pointed her wand at the written word. Nothing happened. "Obscuro," she repeated. Whether this was just wishful thinking or whether it actually happened was questionable but Joella could have sworn that the writing faded slightly before reappearing in what felt like heavier ink than before. Was it her accent? What it her pronunciation? Was her wand being stubborn? Did her wand not like her? Joella was not sure why the spell wasn't word - was she really that bad at the subject she had been so looking forward to all summer? The young Pecari glanced around, trying to gage how well her fellow classmates were getting on with the task.
8 Joella Curtis The truth? 295 Joella Curtis 0 5


Katherine Procter, Crotalus

October 05, 2014 10:25 PM
When Kitty arrived at the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, pushing the last of the pins into her typical hairstyle, it was already about half full. Mentally praising herself on her not-too-early-but-not-too-late timing (it was the most inconspicuous), she took her seat near the door and pulled her classroom tools out of her bag. After setting them onto her desk just so, she folded her hands neatly in her lap and waited for lecture to start. They had Substitute Professor Valson again, but Kitty did not mind. There was something about her that Kitty liked. The professor made Kitty feel comfortable and at ease.

After taking roll and closing the door, Professor Valson went into her lecture on fear. The irony of the subject was not lost on Kitty. When she had arrived on the covered wagon at the start of the school year, she swore to herself that she would face her fears this year and look into improving herself. Explore the gardens and grounds, go to the MARS Rooms, talk to more people, overcome her shyness…yes, it was appropriate to have fear be a common thread weaving through her second year at Sonora. She diligently took notes on Boggarts and Dementors, silently praying that they-as the Beginners Class-would not have to face such creatures so soon.

She breathed a silent sigh when Professor Valson continued with her lesson, moving on to discuss the spells of the day: Obscuro and Revelio. Kitty’s pen made light scratching sounds as she wrote down the spells and necessary information, drawing brackets around the assignment and homework to set them apart from the rest of her notes.

Tearing off a strip of paper from her notes, she twirled a lock of hair around her finger while she contemplated what could be considered her deepest fear. She was really frightened of spiders, but she thought that she hated getting lost even more. Talking to new people was horrifying, but not nearly as much as spiders or getting lost. She remembered a time when she was five, and her mother lost her in a high-end department store when she had found a friend and got to talking. Jessica Proctor valued her appearance above all else, so when she got into a conversation about the latest fashions and the handbag she had to have, all thoughts of her only daughter slipped from her mind. Kitty, a small girl with dark brown braided pigtails tied with blue bows, large eyes the color of dark honey, and a too-wide mouth, was left in the dress department for nearly a half hour before she realized that Mother was not going to be coming back any time soon.

The memory of that day made the gears in twelve-year-old Kitty’s mind to begin turning. She pictured herself as she was when she was at home. Alone.

She grabbed her pen from her desk and quickly wrote in neat strokes of indigo-colored ink:

”Being forgotten and alone.”

Trading her pen for her wand, Kitty pointed the instrument at the strip of paper, and whispered, “Obscuro,” while rotating the wand slightly. At first, the words seemed to grow darker and Kitty’s heart fell, but after a moment, they faded until there was no trace of anything written on the parchment.

Happy that she managed to vanish the words, but worried that it was not as powerful a concealment as she wanted it to be. The idea that one of her classmates could learn her worst fear was cause for some alarm, but the assignment was the assignment, and she was not about to voice any concerns.

Kitty stole a glance around the room at the other students nearby. While she was determined to overcome her shyness this year, she was not sure which of the others she wanted to learn her fears. So, she sat straighter in her chair, folded her hands in her lap, and waited for someone to approach her.
0 Katherine Procter, Crotalus Facing one's fears once more. 0 Katherine Procter, Crotalus 0 5


Liac Reinhardt

October 09, 2014 1:24 AM
"I know" She replied softly. "I'm not really comfortable lying though. M-maybe I could write down a lesser fear?" She asked.

“That sounds good,” Liac stated with a smile. If anything he should have been the one giving her suggestions, rather than approving an alternative. It was her choice after all what she decided to do. Even so, Liac was happy to give his opinion. He wished his younger siblings felt as highly about his guidance as she did, as often times they choose to ignore his well-meaning advice. Ulrich was the most likely of the bunch to ignore his authority, which probably went hand in hand with the fact that he was the closest in age to Liac. This could quickly turn into trouble; carelessness and a metal-charmer’s workshop were a dangerous combination.

“Sorry if I was pressuring you to lie though. You should just do what makes you feel comfortable,” he added, wishing he would have thought about her feelings before giving his suggestion earlier. He wondered if she thought he was some scoundrel or, more likely, morally ambiguous. It wasn’t that he didn’t care about the class-- when push came to shove he did study and at least try to do well, but that didn’t mean he didn’t mess around every once in a while to make the class more interesting, all while doing his work of course.

"I-I'd like that...” she replied when he offered to wait for her to finish practicing. She was so different from the girls he was used to hanging out with. Liac thought her shyness was quite cute and hoped it was genuine. It would be a shame if it all turned out to be an act. Although Liac had seen Muggles put on airs before, and he hadn’t encountered many Pureblood girls before save for his cousins, he had noticed a trend in the pureblood women who had come into their shop and who were more likely to pull this type of stunt. He wasn’t sure if it was a skill learned from a young age or not, or simply one found in the very elite classes. “If you still want to work with me that is." She looked down at her paper again. "And thank you, I think I'd like to work on it a little more."

“I wouldn’t have asked to work with you if I didn’t want to,” Liac said with a light chuckle. “Let me just find a chair first,” he added before excusing himself. He didn’t mind being on his feet when it came to toiling in the workshop, as he was often too busy concentrating on his work to notice his sore feet. However, standing for the duration of a class was not something that he wasn’t willing to put up with-- no matter how pretty his company was. Finding the closest available chair, he seated himself next to her, making sure to give her ample space to work, yet close enough that he could still hear her as she seemed to talk quite softly.

“Take all the time you need. Okay?” he said turning to her with another smile.
0 Liac Reinhardt You are most welcome. 288 Liac Reinhardt 0 5

Chaslyn

October 14, 2014 6:47 AM
Chaslyn breathed a sigh of relief. It was okay, he was okay with it. However, she was still worried Professor Valson would have an issue with it and that wasn't all right with the Crotalus at all. She hated getting in trouble and tried to avoid it the best she could-and if she got in trouble with a professor, a whole bunch of people would get mad at her. Nor would she react well to being yelled at. Chaslyn would cry, she knew she would. In front of everyone. She could practically hear the professor and her mother both screaming and her classmates laughing.

She would be mocked and rejected. She wouldn't get prefect or Head Girl and Mother would be even more furious. Her grades would be affected if Professor Valson was angry with her and didn't believe her. Everything would just spiral out of control if Chaslyn made one tiny mistake.

"Oh, oh no! Not at all!" The second year replied. "I-I didn't think you had, I mean, I just..." She trailed off, not wanting Liac to think that he'd done something wrong. That would scare him away and she didn't really want that. So far he seemed...really nice and she just didn't want someone to reject her.

And she doubted her awkward babbling was helping matters either. Mother would have been horrified by Chaslyn's lack of social skills at this point. The Crotalus was beginning to feel like every one of her actions were making everything about this situation worse. The fact that Liac wasn't making a run for it was nothing short of a miracle. She was positive she was damaging her first chance of making a friend.

Her face flushed even hotter as Liac pointed out that he wouldn't have asked to work with her if he didn't want to. How could Chaslyn not have realized that? The way he said it had come across lighthearted but that only really helped a little, she felt she was messing up big time and was actually really a bit surprised when he came back. She nodded. "T-thank you." Chaslyn replied as she tried desperately to calm down.
11 Chaslyn Well, at least that's a little relief. 281 Chaslyn 0 5