Lesson for First and Second Years by Professor Fawcett
For the first time in his quasi-career at Sonora, John was taking the same class in two successive academic years. It was not something he had expected to happen, and it caused him concern on at least two levels, but there it was: he'd been called back to fill in for Potions once more, and had accepted again.Now, here he was, introducing the first years to the art of potion-making and no doubt confusing the second years who'd already had him as a sub. Once the flow of students reduced itself first to a trickle and then to a stop, he closed the door firmly and went around the (already paper-covered; his concern that he was getting too comfortable in the room was not ill-founded) teacher's table to address his pupils.
"Welcome," he said warmly, "or, as the case may be, welcome back, to Potions. For those of you who aren't familiar with me, I am Professor Fawcett." He used his ever-handy pointer to indicate where the words Professor J. M. Fawcett, in careful print, were located on the board. "As the second years among you should know, I am also merely a substitute. Until such time as the Headmistress secures a new professor for Potions, however, I will be taking this class."
He put down his pointer, not needing it for the moment. "I realize that some of you have no experience in Potions, or lack the...aptitude for it. That's perfectly fine. As long as you follow safety regulations, act sensibly, and do the best you can, I'll be satisfied. However - " here his tone went stern; this was a matter of as much importance to him as to the school - "you will be dealing with fire and with solutions that can do you serious harm if mishandled. When you are in this lab, use caution. No running or pushing or unnecessary wielding of scalpels. Do not spill your potion on purpose, or add ingredients not found in the list. Make sure to read and follow all directions carefully as you work; performing steps in the wrong order, or with the wrong quantities of ingredients, can cause disaster."
He decided it was time to lighten the intimidation act. He had never been good at it anyway; though he was tall, John was also thin, graying, bespectacled, and usually had some variety of ink stain on his hands or clothing. Not exactly a force to be reckoned with. "There are other ways to make a mess of things here, but I will trust you to make use of common sense until you give me a reason not to," John told them, moving back behind his table to look over his normal glasses (too much bother to whip out his readers; his wife had suggested bifocals over the summer, but after how long it had taken her to talk him into getting reading glasses, he doubted Allison had been surprised by his resistance to the idea) at the roster. "Please say 'here' as I call your name. Charlotte Abbott..."
Once roll was called, John erased his name from the board and took up the chalk, this time writing down page 37. "Here, you may find your first potion," he told them, then gave them a moment to find it in their textbooks. "A simple cheering draught. It's not nearly as powerful as a good number of the mood-altering potions you'll study for RATS, but still not something to indulge in frequently. A cheery disposition might seem like a good thing, but when you are cheery at a funeral, it can cause you a number of social difficulties.
"The ingredients are asphodel root, daisy root, fluxweed, and ginger. All of these should be in a standard potions-making kit, but if you are for some reason running low on an item, there are reserve supplies in the cupboard." For clarity, he used his pointed to indicate where it was. It was always best to count on at least one student in every class being as dense in non-academic matters as he'd been at eleven during the Stone Ages. "Separate into partners, remember to be sensible, and begin."
OOC: Standard posting rules - 200 words per post, somewhere between eight and ten lines on screen, with decent spelling and grammar for a minimum - apply. Nice, detailed posts are preferred. Spills, accidents, and unsuccessful products are allowed. Have fun!
Subthreads: Sensible? What's that mean? by Jose Hernandez with Connie Jones, Jose
Is anyone brave enough to work with me? by Cassandra Kerrigan, Aladren with David Lancaster, Teppenpaw, Cassie
All I need is a cup of cheer... by Edmond Carey with Daniel Nash II
Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble. by Marissa Stephenson with Quentin Melcher
Re: Lesson for First and Second Years by Andrew Duell with Jethro Smythe, Jethro
A cheering potion is exactly what the doctor ordered. by Euna Song with Clarissa Marigold, Euna, Headmistress Powell
If only everyone had just a little dab of this. by Adelita Garcia (Crotalus) with Charlotte Abbott, Lita
Hassled... by Insomnia Zannicci with bridjalyn Tuppin Pecari, Anonymous
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Professor Fawcett
Lesson for First and Second Years
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Professor Fawcett
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Jose Hernandez
May 29, 2009 1:51 PM
Sensible? What's that mean? by Jose Hernandez
Coming from a semi-magical background like the California Pierces, Jose Hernandez had only one class that loomed large and foreboding ahead of him. He was familiar with Charms (he'd even been allowed to try a few very simple ones while Maria stood sentry against Muggles), and even if he'd not tried it yet himself, the act of Transfiguration was just a matter of course during normal daily activities. History was a homey place that surrounded him on a daily basis. He spoke Elizabethan English fluently.DADA was somewhat less commomplace, but Jose wasn't worried about it. He figured he knew at least as many monster legends as anybody else and his seventh year cousin was taking it at the RATS level. Saul might not be exactly academically reliable, but Jose trusted he could help out on first level assignments if needed.
Care of Magical Creatures might have been even less familiar territory, but Jose liked animals and figured that would get him through most of the lessons. And that left only potions.
Oh, he knew about potions. He knew too much about potions, and that was the whole problem. Because everything he knew came from Animal and Environmental Rights brochures about the illegal, inhumane, or unsustainable poaching or harvesting methods of potions ingredients.
He arrived for his first class in the subject with a heavy dread. Saul had lead the first years here, but even his cousin's buoyant cheer hadn't managed to lighten his spirits.
Jose sat in the back of the room and worriedly picked at the sleeve of his robe as Professor Fawcett went through the preliminaries and introductions. Unable to sit still, Jose shifted in his seat, fiddled with his pen and wand, rearranged his books on his desk, and nearly had a heart attack when he heard his name called out before he realized it was just role call and managed to get out a choked 'Here!'
And then there was the day's potion.
Jose anxiously turned to page 37 and read over the ingredient list. He very nearly whooped when he saw the most controversial item on the list was asphodel root. Talk about a cheering potion. He beamed at his neighbor, not caring if the other kid thought he was a touch manic.
He flipped open his organic potions kit - which contained only plant products grown by environmentally conscious herbologists - and checked to see if he had everything. Ginger, check. Daisy root, check. Fluxweek, yep. Asphodel root . . . ah, yes, right there. He bounced excitedly in his seat, still grinning. "I can actually make this one," he told his neighbor, thinking only of his ethical restrictions rather than his actual potions skills. "Whoo, cheering draught!" Jose clearly had no need to imbibe their final product.
He lugged his battered cauldron - a hand-me-down from Saul that he would not swear had never been used as target practice - up onto the shared desk between him and his neighbor. "So, you ever made a potion before?"
As he asked, he took off the rose tinted John Lennon glasses he'd been wearing to this point and tucked them into his bag. From the same pocket of the bag, he grabbed a leather strap band and gathered his loose dark hair into tail at the nape of his neck, tying it off and out of the way with practiced ease. With another confident glance at the waiting cauldron, he rolled back his school robe's sleeves in preparation, giving off the distinct (but entirely wrong) impression that this was not the first time he'd been confronted with the task of brewing anything.
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Jose Hernandez
Sensible? What's that mean?
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Jose Hernandez
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Cassandra Kerrigan, Aladren
May 30, 2009 11:26 PM
Is anyone brave enough to work with me? by Cassandra Kerrigan, Aladren
In her eagerness to get to her first class, Cassie was among one of the first students to arrive, which was more than satisfactory. It gave her the opportunity to choose where she would be seating and without a moment’s hesitation, she picked a seat in the very front. Then, like the good (or was it organizationally obsessed?) girl that she was, she took out all brand new things – her Potions textbook, two quills, two different colored inks: the standard black and then red for important items, parchment, and, of course, the shiny cauldron and filled potions kit. She had insisted on the best items since that was the first step to being a successful student.With everything in its place, the only thing left for Cassie to do was to wait for the other students to arrive. She sat primp and proper in her wrinkle-free uniform with her legs crossed and her hands folded. Each time a student or two entered the room, she couldn’t help looking them over in natural curiosity. Outside of classes, she had wondered about people being friends or foes, but in the classroom, she was more worried about whether they would be competition or not for the highest grades. It just wouldn’t do for someone to be better than her. She had to show her daddy that she was the brightest just like he was in school.
Sitting still for so long, she started become antsy. She subtly tried shifting this way and that. She stubbornly refused to change positions though that familiar tinkling telling of one’s foot falling asleep had begun and her hands felt a little clammy. But finally after what seemed like an eternity, the lecture began and she was able to switch to taking notes. Painstakingly careful, she wrote down every single word that the professor stated from the very world ‘Welcome’ until he got to the alarm word of substitute. How was she supposed to properly learn from a substitute? She had been expecting a fully dedicated professor, not a substitute.
His continued lecturing didn’t help any either as it only served to help her anxiety build further. The class sounded absolutely dangerous – fire, harmful solutions, scalpels, and the one they were to depend on was a substitute? Yes, that word was definitely sticking out right now in her head. She chewed on her lower lip. Lovely. Now, on top of the worry of grades, she had the worry of potentially losing a finger or two. Though, she couldn’t decide which was the greater concern and finally came to the conclusion that it was neither of those. It was her classmates, because they would be responsible on both accounts.
Of course, it didn’t help any that she had no idea, aside from Edmond, who any of them were, but then Professor Fawcett, almost obligingly, began role call, and as they called out ‘here,’ she tried to remember who went with what name in the hopes that it would make it easier later to figure out which ones were the ‘smart’ ones. She tried to tell herself that this wasn’t neurotic in the least and nearly missed her name. After a quick mention of her attendance, she continued to look around the room with interest until the final name was called. A couple of the people she recognized from the Aladren table, so she already knew that they could be trouble.
Cassie didn’t have much time to worry about that now though as the real learning had begun. As per instruction, she opened her textbook, enjoying the crisp feel, to page thirty-seven. More copying and then came a concept more frightening than dementors (though not really), she was going to have to depend on another person for her grade on this potion, possibly every potion, which meant she could only hope not to end up with the worst of the lot. That also meant that she wasn’t going to get a chance to finish all of her notes. She was vying to start a fresh page detailing the first potion, the date of the first potion, and anything else she thought important.
With a sigh, she glanced around in the vain hope of finding someone that wouldn’t cause damage to either her grade or her personal being. Thankfully, she didn’t have to worry about getting ready to work since her straight, brown hair was already up in a ponytail and all of her ingredients were already out. Though, maybe that didn’t matter so much as everyone else seemed to be pairing off. Maybe she had better hurry. Turning to the person closest to her, she tried the polite introduction first before asking the obvious, “I’m Cassie Kerrigan. Want to be partners? I have everything we need right here.”
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Cassandra Kerrigan, Aladren
Is anyone brave enough to work with me?
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Cassandra Kerrigan, Aladren
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http://www.askoxford.com/concise_oed/sensible?view=uk by Connie Jones
Connie slunk into Potions class and plonked herself down with a slight 'harruf',' arms crossed on the table and head nestled between them. She'd been so glad that Pepper was going to be around. That'd she'd be there to look after her. She'd forgotten that that easily strayed into fussing with Pepper, and that sisters could be embarrassing. Hers had been leading the little Teppenpaw first years down to Potions and been waiting for her outside the door to the classroom.“Looks like you'll be needing this first,” she'd said, handing over the cauldron that they had to share (as if hand-me-downs weren't bad enough, they were going to have to share a cauldron). And then, to add insult to injury, she had been informed that “Long hair needs to be tied back for Potions,” and seen her sister flicking her wand. The next thing she knew, she'd felt a pulling sensation all along her scalp as her hair had tied itself into a ponytail. Glaring, she had made her way into class and sat down. Had Pepper had to play the fussy, know-it-all sister in front of everyone on their first day of classes? She didn't see anyone else's older sibling acting like their mum, cleaning dirt off their cheeks or telling them to sit up straight and behave well. It didn't help that she hated having her hair tied back either. She had quite pretty ringlets when it was left down, but tied up, the mass of curls got bottlenecked at the hair-tie and then splayed out in some sort of ridiculous explosion. She tried to tug it out but found that it wouldn't budge. Perhaps magically tied up hair needed to be magically undone. That was so unfair.
She perked up a bit when the teacher started talking. Whilst the names 'Potions' 'Charms' and 'Care of Magical Creatures' were quite self-explanatory, she didn't know the whats, wheres and how-it-all-actually-works of any of it and was pretty keen to find out. However, she found herself vastly uninspired by what turned out to simply be the magical equivalent of “Don't chase each other with the Bunsen burners and please handle the chemicals safely.” Bleh.
“Here,” she mumbled to the role call, the little knot of bad mood tightening as she realised she was going to get her stupid full name called out by every teacher. Eventually, they were finally told that they were going to be making a Potion. A cheering one. That caught her off guard a little. She wondered about raising her hand to ask about it but if it was common in the wizarding world, she'd probably look stupid. As the person next to her declared himself able to do this, and seemed to have a full set of supplies out already, perhaps she could just ask him. She noted he seemed to have a very battered cauldron which a) seemed to back up the idea that he came from a background where cauldrons were well used and he thus knew his stuff and b) suggested that he might be another victim of hand-me-downitis and wouldn't look down on her.
She shook her for 'no' when he asked if she'd ever made a Potion before, pulling out her text book too to show some willing. Pepper had been a very careful owner and no one would suspect that the book wasn't new, bar a couple of tell-tale signs; the inside cover where two words of the neatly sloping hand that declared the book to be 'Property of Pepper Jones, Teppenpaw House' had been crossed through and replaced, in a more scrawly hand, with 'Connie' and 'Pecari' respectively, and the pages where things had gone terribly wrong, and potions had spewed forth over the book. The cheering draught, however, didn't seem to have been one of these, and the page looked spotlessly clean.
“I don't come from a magical family,” she explained. “Um... Is this sort of thing normal to wizards? Using magic to change how people feel I mean?”
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Connie Jones
http://www.askoxford.com/concise_oed/sensible?view=uk
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Connie Jones
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I wouldn't say 'brave' exactly. . . by David Lancaster, Teppenpaw
David Lancaster woke far earlier than necessary and wasted his head-start staring at the ceiling over his bed. A crack shaped very much like the lifeline on his left palm rested there, tiny spiderwebs of shattered drywall trailing from its edges. It made him think of the gypsies who crowded the tourist traps in Italy; they pushed their babies into your arms, and while you were busy, their older children stole your wallet. He wondered what his parents were doing at that very moment, nine hours later in the day. Dad, he knew, would have finished his English and Literature lessons at the high school; the after-school Latin club would be wrapping up in another half hour or so. His dad would then gather together his papers for grading, pick-up his mom from hangar 12, and then head home to the three bedroom duplex they rented on the economy.While the home had only been a home for the past two months, David felt a vague stir of longing for the place. The backyard, hardly worthy of the title, held a solitary lemon tree and jasmine clung to the cast-iron fence. Both had been in bloom when he had left, and despite the transatlantic flight and day and a half of airing, David still smelled the cloying tang on his clothes. When his alarm sounded some forty minutes after his waking, he silenced it, turned on his side, and sighed.
He should be feeling excited, he recognized; his very first lesson in magic was to begin in a little over two hours. Instead, though, he only felt a dull sense of déjà vu. How many times in the past seven years had he woken to similar circumstances, to a new classroom with a new teacher and new classmates? Magic's involvement provoked his wonder, but did little for the heaviness of eventuality that stirred him to ignore his alarm when it went off for its second and third times. When he finally left his bed, it was with only thirty minutes to spare.
He skipped breakfast and arrived to his first class of the day, Potions, in sloppy conditions. His robes hung from his shoulders a size too large, the extra fabric having riddled itself with wrinkles over-night. Beneath his robes, his shirt, a pale green showcasing its many washings, rested untucked and unchecked. One of his sneakers was untied, and his brown hair edged over the collar of his shirt. His almost late arrival left him with slim pickings on seats, and reluctantly, he took a place at the very front. David removed his Potions' text, his kit, and a spiral bound notebook from his book-bag; it took him five minutes into the lecture before he found a writing utensil to accompany his other supplies.
His notes were sporadic lines, often interrupted by the milleau of considerations that voiced themselves with each new piece of vocabulary vocalized by Professor Fawcett. He was distracted enough by the mention of disasters that it took three attempts by the professor before David recognized his name being called. Obediently, he turned to the page mentioned and began reading the potion's description. A cheering potion. . . perhaps the magical equivalent to anti-depressants? If he were to translate a cheering potion into a specific pharmaceutical, say Prozac, and transplant himself into the average Muggle sixth grade class, he highly doubted that he'd ever be instructed on the finer points of the drug's manufacturing. And if there was such a class in existence for the typical sixth grader, while he was sure his parents would order his participation, David knew he would fail at the lesson.
He was without talent, after all; a fact that, while sobering, did not dishearten him terribly. He imagined that there were many kids just like himself, born to brilliant parents, but genetically lacking the same markers of genius.
As Professor Fawcett released them to begin the lesson, David propped his chin on his palm and considered his immediate neighbor. Her robes marked her as an Aladren, and the dazzling display of order and preparation that covered her work area marked her as exactly the sort of student David's parents insisted he could be. He imagined she would be the kind of person who'd take immediate charge, strive for excellence, and most likely find him generally sub par and lacking. He started slightly when the girl's attention turned on him, and passively, he accepted the fact that he would begin his first lesson in magic badly.
Straightening slightly and removing his elbow from the work station, David nodded his agreement, his brown eyes pensive. "I'm David Lancaster. What would you like me to do first?" He deferred leadership to Cassie by reflex, far more comfortable with a position as assistant than master.
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David Lancaster, Teppenpaw
I wouldn't say 'brave' exactly. . .
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David Lancaster, Teppenpaw
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All I need is a cup of cheer... by Edmond Carey
Though anxious to get to his first-ever class of real magic in a real school, Edmond was careful to arrive neither very early nor very late. He wanted to make a good impression on his professors, not be in their way by hanging around while they got the lesson together or disrespectful by showing up as the bell rang.When he arrived, there was still a front-row lab table with a seat open, so he took it. That, he had heard, was where a proper high achiever sat. Seeing Cassie already present, he gave her a smile and a small wave before beginning to study the older wizard at the front of the room, who, he assumed, taught the subject. The glasses reminded Edmond of his last geography tutor, who had not been an agreeable gentleman in the slightest, but he reminded himself not to jump to quick conclusions. Glasses implied vision problems, not character flaws. Evidence of those had yet to make itself seen.
As the lecture began, Edmond obligingly took down the name on the board and refrained from asking what 'J. M.' really stood for. It was irrelevant to the topic at hand. What he heard next was, however, very relevant. He was only a sub? They didn't have a real professor? Did the family know the situation there?
As Professor Fawcett proceeded with his speech on safety in the lab, Edmond watched him closely, no longer taking notes on what he said. He hadn't said that he was really a Potions master who just didn't fancy teaching all the time, but neither had he said he wasn't. Though looks could, as a variety of people had been telling him since before he even remembered, be deceiving, the professor looked competent to him. Also, Sonora had a decent reputation for a school, and allowing someone substandard to stand in would be bad for a reputation like that. So they were most likely okay with J. M. Fawcett.
He resumed note-taking when they got to the assignment part of the day. Simple was, of course, always a relative term, but it was clearly the standard Sonora expected first years to be able to meet. He flipped over to page 37 with a sense of determination.
Edmond would not be one of those students who got by on an effort grade. It was, of course, entirely possible that he wouldn't be the best in the class, but he intended to give whoever was a run for their money if he wasn't. When their temporary professor told them to pair up, Edmond turned to the person sitting beside him, his long, awkward body, big nose, and riotous red curls looking more than slightly out of place in his custom-tailored uniform robes.
"I am Edmond Carey," he said, introducing himself formally but, as usual, leaving off branches to avoid confusing the other person and himself in equal measure. "Would you like to work together?"
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Edmond Carey
All I need is a cup of cheer...
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Edmond Carey
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Daniel Nash II
June 01, 2009 3:33 PM
Then you're in the right class by Daniel Nash II
Daniel was, as always, a bit early for potions class. He picked out his favorite seat in the front row and went about readying his supplies. He liked to have his notebook, textbook, ingredients kit, and cauldron all ready to go before class started so as not to need to rush to get them set up once the lesson started.He turned to the first empty page of his notebook and glanced up to the board, recognizing Professor Fawcett's name and frowning at the lack of new potions master. Still, the substitute had been more than adequate for last year's lessons and as long as they had a real one by the time Daniel reached a more advanced level, he wasn't going to hold it against the administration. With a mental shrug, Daniel put Fawcett's name into the teacher's slot of the inside cover of his notebook.
During attendance, Daniel raised his hand and confirmed, 'Present!' to the call for Daniel Nash the Second. Daniel took note that the person sitting beside him was named Edmond Carey. Then the lesson began and Daniel turned to page 37. A quick skim of the instructions proved the teacher's assessment that it was a simple brew; only four ingredients, and straightforward steps. He checked his kit and found he had all four - the only question had been if any of them had been unusually rare; it being the first lesson of the year, all of Daniel's supplies were at full.
His attention was drawn back to Edmond as the new first year (or so Daniel assumed, since he didn't recognize him from last year) introduced himself and sought confirmation that their seats made them obvious partners. Daniel nodded, and agreed, "Sure. I'm Daniel Nash." He watched for a flash of recognition from Edmond, but held out hope that the kid wasn't a fan of Street Beat. Aside from Taylor, most of the Aladrens he'd met last year hadn't even known what a television was, never mind followed a particular show.
Plus, Daniel's eyes swept over Edmond, noting the cut and quality of his robes, pitied the mass of red curls (Daniel's straight dark hair was cut trimly and required only a minimal amount of styling gel to keep every strand neatly in place), and silently thanked his parents for donating him features and a build that befit his Hollywood status (he had not been surprised to have gotten Best Looking in the yearbook during his very first year). The assessment left Daniel giving Edmond a reasonably high probability of being from one of the wealthier magical families. The lack of family branch in his introduction, though, suggested he wasn't just a snob like Holly's friends who had paired himself with Daniel merely because he'd recognized Daniel's robes as being of equal quality to his own, without considering that there were muggleborns from absurdly wealthy families, too.
"I'm a second year," Daniel added, this being a far greater indicator of skill than family background. As they were mutually Aladrens, he figured that was the point of most interest. "Have you brewed anything before?"
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Daniel Nash II
Then you're in the right class
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Daniel Nash II
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Wise? Prudent? What're those? by Jose
Jose belatedly recognized his neighbor as the girl the other old student who had brought in a bunch of Teppenpaws had babied. He was really glad that, as annoying as Saul could sometimes be, he'd done nothing like that to Jose. Unlike the red-haired girl, Saul seemed to be at least somewhat aware that older relatives were embarrassing by their mere existence and hadn't made a big deal of their family relationship in front of the other first years.And then a giant realization hit him. Red. Haired. Teppenpaw.
"Holy Macaroni. That was Pepper Jones," he said out loud, then realized he'd probably only just magnified whatever embarrassed Pepper Jones had inflicted upon her first year relative. But it really couldn't have been helped. "Dude, check this out." He grabbed his own leg by the ankle and hoisted his foot up to where they could both see the ink scrawling that covered the canvas of his running shoes. He pointed at the circle that enclosed the initials SP + PJ. It was directly opposite the circle that enclosed the initials SP + BO on the other shoe. Both were slightly over written by a heart encased JH + RT and drawings of guitars and cartoon characters.
"See, that's my cousin - Saul Pierce?" he gave the name a questioning raise of his eyebrow, in case his cousin's name was as legendary in her family as Pepper Jones's was in his, "and your . . . sister?" he guessed, based largely on how obsessively maternal Pepper had acted. He doubted a cousin would act like that. He shrugged and added, "Hand-me-down shoes." Just in case his potions partner thought he was insane and wrote declarations of love on his shoes that didn't apply to himself and were years out of date. He had plenty of reasons for people to think he was insane without adding more.
He abruptly realized he'd totally ignored her initial question and hurried to fix the lapse, "Oh, and cheering potions and charms are, well, they're not common, but they're not uncommon either. They're sort of like, um, rock candy. It exists, just about everyone knows about it, most people have even tried it once or twice, it's super sweet, but you gotta go looking to find it and it's not exactly considered good for you. Plus, it's rude to cheer someone up without their permission. And mostly you only hear about cheering charms and potions. I don't think I've ever run across a depressing draught. Well, unless you mean not getting rain for too long. That's depressing. All the grass dies and the fruits get all shriveled."
He put his foot back down on the floor and popped back up onto his feet to peer into his battered cauldron. "We gotta fill this with water. Want me to do that while you start measuring the ingredients?" Jose wasn't exactly buff, but he figured he'd have an easier time of lugging around a water filled cauldron - a cauldron that was heavy even when it was empty - than Pepper's sister would. Thinking of whom - they still hadn't exchanged introductions. "Oh, and I'm Jose. Jose Hernandez. Hose, for short, not Joe or Josh or anything Americanized like that. I'm already totally Americanized, my name doesn't have to be. I'm talking too much again, aren't I? I told myself I wasn't gonna do that."
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Jose
Wise? Prudent? What're those?
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Jose
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Marissa Stephenson
June 01, 2009 9:35 PM
Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble. by Marissa Stephenson
One thing Marissa had noticed about the course names on her schedule was that they were all deceptive. Every single one of them looked self-explanatory, but really wasn't. She had only skimmed her textbooks, but had already realized that - contrary to her first expectations - she really was in deep over her head.As she followed Lila St. Martin, whose sparkling perfection made her feel like an unwashed dullard from the sticks, she had been caught up in thoughts about whether or not Potions was a good subject to start off her career as a witch with. On one hand, it seemed straightforward enough in her book - just follow the directions, and everything will be okay. On the other hand, she didn't know what half of the things the book listed as ingredients were and the whole thing, to her, smacked of Chemistry. The closest thing to Chem she had ever done was make a volcano in second grade, but she'd heard that it was hard.
Once Perfect Prefect Lila was gone and they were at liberty to enter the classroom, Marissa took a seat near the front, willing herself not to fiddle with the bracelet on her thin wrist. In an attempt at family bonding before she'd come to Sonora, her parents had taken her and Paige on a trip up to Charleston for a weekend and bought her the bracelet at the Market. She had worn it every day since. It wasn't valuable in the traditional sense, but it was a reminder that, witch or not, she was still part of the family. Since thinking of that already brought on a rush of homesickness, that wasn't something she needed to think about at the beginning of her first class at her new school.
As the tall, older man who'd been in the room when she came in introduced himself, Marissa opened the green, three-ring binder she had designated as her Potions notebook and wrote down Professor J. M. Fawcett under the larger words Beginner Potions on the first sheet of college-ruled paper. As he continued, she added a comma and the word Substitute after his name, then flipped over to a fresh sheet to take any notes that seemed necessary during the next part of the speech.
There were none. Everything he was saying seemed to be just common sense, and there was a list of lab protocols printed inside her textbook anyway. As roll call began, soothing in its normality, she tried for a while to copy down the names of her classmates but soon gave it up as a lost cause. They all answered too quickly, and she wasn't sure how she ought to spell some of them, either. It seemed to take forever to reach 'Stephenson'. "Here," she said, proud to note that it was in a clear voice, when they finally did.
When the professor paused and the people around her began to do so, Marissa opened her textbook and started turning pages until she found page 37. It looked easy, but she wasn't going to trust it just yet. As the lecture was ending, she added a note to the bottom of her short list: Do not take regularly. If possible, do not ingest. Whether Professor Fawcett had meant it entirely seriously or not, it would be horribly rude to be cheerful while at someone's funeral. Disrespectful, even, to the family and the dead person alike. Her parents would kill her dead if she ever did something like that.
All relevant points of the lecture and the location of the extra supplies noted, Marissa turned her attention over to her station-mate. It seemed logical for them to pair up to complete the assignment instead of tromping around looking for partners and wasting work time. "Have you ever done anything like this?" she asked.
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Marissa Stephenson
Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble.
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Marissa Stephenson
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Andrew Duell
June 01, 2009 10:20 PM
Re: Lesson for First and Second Years by Andrew Duell
Andrew slept in his first morning of classes. Not late enough to miss Pepper Jones leading them all down to the room, but late enough that anyone could tell that he had been put together rather hastily. He had thrown a couple of his books into his backpack along with a notebook or two, and a few other things he would need for the day last night. He had been glad for doing that this morning.As the redhead led the group through the halls, Andrew had tried to scribble a map in his notebook, but gave up after they reached the classroom door and couldn't understand anything he had done so far. He'd just have to figure the place out. He crumpled up the page and shoved it into his pocket. There was a squeek as his rat was rudely awakened from it's slumber in that pocket. "Oops, sorry Pesky. Thought you were on the other side." The rat curled back up to sleep as Andrew put the paper into his other pocket.
Inside the room he found a place to sit and pulled out his potions book and notebook. He took notes as Professor Fawcett spoke and raised his hand with a "Here" when his name was called. Potions wasn't really high on his list of classes, they didn't seem to have the same 'magic' about them as charms or some of the others. Still he had a job to do, and he had to take in all aspects.
He cracked opened his new book when instructed and found the potion listed. His Potions kit and cauldron were't so new, but his mother had made sure the kit was stocked and ready to go. Now he just needed a partner. Turning to the person nearest him, "Want to be partners?"
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Andrew Duell
Re: Lesson for First and Second Years
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Andrew Duell
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Right, let's try to put this into terms you'll understand... by Connie
'Holy Macaroni, that was Pepper Jones!'Connie blinked. That was the sort of thing one didn't exactly expect to hear in reply to questions about the magical world. Apart from being a total non-sequitur, she didn't think her sister was the sort of girl who had a reputation that preceded her. Unless it was one for just being super nice and helpful to everyone, but that didn't exactly match the tone of voice this guy had used. He'd said it like Pepper was someone... exciting. She didn't have long to dwell on these thoughts however, as her lab partner seemed intent on showing her his shoes. New as she was to this magical lark, she was fairly sure this wasn't the first step in brewing their Potion and could only conclude that it either somehow, bizarrely, it related to Pepper being worthy of a 'Holy Macaroni' or that this guy had ADHD.
S.P. + P.J.
As if Connie hadn't broken into her sister's diary frequently enough to know the initials, it was confirmed by his cousin. Who had, for some reason, written their initials on- ah, of course, not originally his shoes. Her eyes widened and she nodded, as 'Saul Pierce' had seemed like a question.
His explanation of cheering draughts made them seem a little less sinister. She supposed Muggles changed their better by taking anti-depressants. Or drugs. She tried to work out which one a their potion seemed more like. It was a task that was made a lot harder by her very sheltered and limited knowledge of all three. But she'd been told that a cheering draught was something that you shouldn't have very often, and anti-depressants were medicines, which meant you had to take them a lot, so they couldn't really be used like them. She called Jose's words back to mind... 'It exists, just about everyone knows about it, most people have even tried it once or twice, it's super sweet, but you gotta go looking to find it and it's not exactly considered good for you.' It didn't all line up – for starters, she didn't think it would be true that “most people” had tried drugs, seeing as only bad people did them – but it was something that made you act differently and that it seemed like a bad idea to do. But on the other hand, they couldn't seriously be being told to manufacture drugs in their classroom.
“Connie,” she replied automatically to his offer of a name, whilst her mind churned the problem over. He could presumably figure out what it was short for himself by hearing the register called and, as she had no desire to be called anything else, didn't feel the need to elaborate. Not at present, anyway. “If they're all bad for you and dangerous and stuff, why exactly do people take them? Like... when? What for? And why did he write her name on his shoe... Pepper likes Saul, not the other way around. He got with her room mate. Oh, yeah... if we need water, water'd be good,” she nodded, not at all minding the fact that they seemed to be having three conversations at once, just hoping that they didn't forget to get some work done in between them.
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Connie
Right, let's try to put this into terms you'll understand...
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Connie
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Jethro Smythe
June 03, 2009 4:33 AM
That's us by Jethro Smythe
The prefect girl had given the first years an escort down to their first class. This was a very good thing, because Jethro was lost the moment he stepped out of the common room and assumed that he would never have been able to find the classroom otherwise. Yet thankfully he was on time and managed to find a good seat among his peers.The professor wasn't the usual professor, he said - he was a substituate teacher. Not the sort to wonder about reasons for things, Jethro took this information at face value. However, his mind did start to focus more on questioning what would happen if a substitue teacher was needed to cover two classes at the same time, rather than paying necessary attention to the lecture. He needed prompting to reply at the role call, because he was reading what other students had carved into the desk. Though answering his name managed to call his attention back to the room, and seeing as he was near the end of the register he managed to stay focussed enough to hear the real instructions. He even opened his textbook to the right page.
Just as Jethro was sitting, considering if he should be doing something other than staring at the textbook page, he was distracted by a voice. It was the boy he was sitting next to, asking to be partners. "Yes," Jethro replied. "I would like to be partners." He paused as he considered whether he should add an introduction. As they would be speaking to each other throughout the period of the lesson, he decided it might help to know each others' names. Besides, he liked the clarity of being formally introduced. "My name is Jethro," he said, his statement somehow sounding out of place. "What is your name?"
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Jethro Smythe
That's us
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Jethro Smythe
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So what you're saying is 'not fun and exciting?' by Jose
Connie, Jose repeated silently, committing her name to memory. He was usually pretty good with names. And being Pepper's sister, she was particularly important to remember. He was totally going to tell Saul about this. As if they didn't already have everything else in common, Saul and Pepper both had relatives in the first year. But he was maybe a tiny bit relieved Saul had decided to go with Briony for a girlfriend, or maybe Pepper would have combed his hair, too.Jose frowned as Connie asked after the purpose of the cheering potion, but that was largely because he'd banged his knee when getting the cauldron down off the desk again. He managed not to drop it, and held it against his hip while he rubbed at the bruised knee and thought about how to answer.
Cheering potions just were. It was hard to explain them. "It's sort like a lollipop," he tried a different analogy, the second comparison to candy an oddity he would have tried to fix if he'd noticed it.
"It's something your dad might give you if you fall off a stage and you're crying more because you're scared than because you're hurt. You get cheered up right away and you can go on about your day in a good mood even though you fell off a stage. But there's not the same chance that you might start falling off stages on purpose to get the lollipop because, as happy as they make you, cheering potions taste awful.
"Cheering charms are way better. They don't have the aftertaste. Their big drawback, though, is that muggles will notice if you start pointing wooden sticks at your kids. But they won't notice it if you give your crying kid a sippy cup with a dose of cheering potion. They'll figure it's just juice. Mom always carries around a happy cup when she's looking after toddlers. It's got the big Don't Worry Be Happy smiley on it, too, so she doesn't get it mixed up with the juice cups."
"Hang on, I'll be right back." He shifted the caudron in his arms again and went to get it filled with water at the nearest faucet. When he got back and settled the full cauldron back in its spot on the table, he picked up his explanation as if he interrupted himself.
"And Saul totally dug Pepper - still does, kinda, though he pretends he doesn't cuz he's with Briony, right? - but he couldn't ask both of them out and he liked them both the same, see?" Jose pointed to his other shoe, the one with Briony's initials on it, "and he had to pick one for that dance a while back, so when he polled his roommates, they decided he should ask out Briony. He thinks Echo was biased though, because Echo didn't know Pepper and Briony was friends with Elly and Echo totally dug Elly." Or so Saul had explained this summer during the thousands of hours of useless trivia Jose had been subjected to about the comings and goings of the Sonora populace.
Jose paused for a moment to set the fire under the cauldron to eventually get the water in it boiling. "I think he may have actually had a bigger crush on Pepper, but I could just be projecting. I am the guy who gets Saul's hand-me-down clothes with declarations of love for pajamas and body odor. I may not have the right priorities in picking Saul's girlfriend for him." He gave Connie a cheeky grin and a wink to show he wasn't being entirely serious.
"Are we ready with the asphodel yet? It's not quite time for it, but as soon as we start getting bubbles, it should go in. And do you have a stirring rod? I think I forgot mine."
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Jose
So what you're saying is 'not fun and exciting?'
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Jose
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Andrew Duell
June 03, 2009 7:49 PM
Are we ready for this? by Andrew Duell
Andrew smiled at the boy next to him, "I'm Andrew. Have you done this before?" He hadn't really, sure he had helped his mother on a couple of occasions, but that didn't really count. He lifted his cauldron, "I'll get the water if you want to sort out the ingredients." He looked down at the book then at Jethro again with a grin, "Sort carefully though, the wrong ingredients can make for some interesting results."He followed a few of the other cauldron-carrying students over to the tap and waited his turn to fill his with water. He remembered a few years ago when he had been 'helping' his mother. 'Always follow the directions' was a lesson he only had to learn once the hard way. It had taken nearly a week before he didn't smell of rotting eggs and skunk. Mom had made him sleep out under the stars that week, and it had only rained once.
Andrew turned and tripped over his robe, dropping the cauldron on the floor and splashing water all around. He looked around to see who noticed the clamor with an embarrassed grin. picked up the cauldron and filled it again. A little more carefully this time, he returned with the filled cauldron and started up the fire under it. Things were looking good so far, as he checked over the book's instructions again and adjusted the flame. "How are those ingredients looking Jethro?"
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Andrew Duell
Are we ready for this?
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Andrew Duell
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Quentin Melcher
June 03, 2009 7:53 PM
Re: Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble. by Quentin Melcher
Quentin's first year at Sonora had been a fairly successful one. His family had not only been pleased with his grades, but also his yearbook awards, which were Most Serious and Class Bookworm, the latter of which confused Quentin as he was neither a book nor a worm. He figured it was meant to mean he was avid reader, rather than that he was a worm that infested books since he was quite clearly a human being, and that was true, but Quentin didn't think it made much sense to call someone who liked to read the same thing as a worm that was infesting books. It was kind of a derogatory term come to think of it. Quentin wasn't infesting books when he read them. He would never be mischevious towards, be hurtful towards or harass a book. He respected books and furthermore, he didn't even know how one could harass an inanimate object. People who read books read them because they liked to (or had to for a class) which was what books were for. Plus people were not worms, period. They were people.But his parents and grandparents seemed to think it was a good thing and that was good enough for Quentin. Even if he still found the term inherently insulting to those who liked to read, which was something he did not feel he should be insulted for. Not that he felt insulted by his parents or his classmates, more by whomever invented the term to begin with.
He took a seat at a station with one of the first years and listened for his name as Professor Fawcett called them off. As much as it would have pleased Quentin to have a regular teacher-and as much as it would have pleased his family to have one for him-he rather liked Professor Fawcett as he not only actually taught them things but was capable of teaching many of them. Other people might refer to Professor Fawcett as being well-rounded, but Quentin would not because Professor Fawcett was not perfectly circular. He wasn't even fat.
Another reason Quentin liked Professor Fawcett was that his lessons were always rather straight forward. Cheering potions were used to cheer one up just like boil curing potions were used to cure boils. He liked that, the lessons were clear that way. It made it easier to be more accurate which was called for in Potions.
"Have you ever done anything like this?"
Quentin looked at the first year. "Well, if you mean, have I brewed potions, than yes, I have. However, if you mean have I done one similar to this one, than no. Last year we made a potion that cures boils. Curing a boil is not really similar to cheering one up. Though I guess being unhappy and having boils are both pretty awful conditions and the potion cures them, so perhaps I have. Both potions are helpful rather than harmful, and the process of making it is pretty much the same, so yes, I have done something like this before after all" She had only asked if he had done anything like this so it didn't matter if Quentin had done this exact potion as she had not asked that. "I'm Quentin." He introduced himself.
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Quentin Melcher
Re: Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble.
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Quentin Melcher
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Marissa
June 03, 2009 11:39 PM
Fire burn and cauldron bubble. by Marissa
It took Marissa a moment to recover from her partner's way of answering what she had thought of as a simple question. That was much more depth than she would have ever put into it, and it made her feel the tiniest bit inferior. She had been accounted smart in Georgia - exclusive schools all of her life, advanced material since she was seven, lit clubs and language lessons and special art classes - but if this was normal for Arizona, her reputation was about to take a serious beating."I'm Quentin."
At last! Something she could respond to without making her sound like a total idiot. "I'm Marissa," she said, smiling only a little nervously. Just how much of a fool would she make of herself in the next two hours? "Nice to meet you."
She scanned over the list of ingredients, trying to look as smart and professional as possible and wishing she had some reading glasses. Being the best was all she knew how to do; without that, she was nothing. Learning to be better at all this than the people who were apparently born to it would - to put it mildly - be difficult, but Marissa thought it was possible. Until then, she'd have to bluff. Looking the part would be the key to doing so.
"I think we have everything we need," she said, placing one hand on her open textbook. "I can start finely chopping the asphodel if you'll get the water for our base." There was a chance she could slice her hand open while chopping things, but it wasn't very likely. Marissa had always been careful, even nit-picky, in the execution of any task, and she had a minimum of experience helping her mother cook and much more experience of using an Easy-Bake Oven. Lugging around a big pot of water, on the other hand, had much more potential to be messy.
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Marissa
Fire burn and cauldron bubble.
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Marissa
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What would you say? by Cassie
Being rushed into finding a partner, Cassie didn’t have the chance to really look at the person that she had asked. As she took in the seemingly unkempt appearance, it was apparent that he didn’t care what others thought of him and if one didn’t care what others thought of him, how could it be expected that he would care about the work that got turned in? This was really all professor Fawcett’s fault for not giving them ample time to interview partners and she was half-tempted to raise her hand and state this opinion when David had a saving grace. He deferred leadership to her. Maybe the potion that wasn’t even begun could be saved.“Nice to meet you, David.” She didn’t want to be entirely rude just because she didn’t want to have to depend on him for a grade. Carefully, she took out the necessary ingredients from her potions kit. Sure, they could have used his, but she much preferred hers. If his appearance was a reflection, there was no guarantee that something in his wouldn’t be mislabeled or mixed in or whatever else. No, it was much better to use hers since it was in perfect order, which reminded her that she would have to begin noting how much of each ingredient was used. It would be rather inconvenient to run out of anything.
Granted, she could always use what was in the professor’s storage, but she didn’t trust that with everyone having access that they would be as untainted as hers would be. A final check of the list showed that she had everything they needed set out. “I think the best thing to do would be to prepare all the ingredients before we start creating the potion. The daisy roots need to be ground into a fine powder and the fluxweed cut. Do you want to do either of those?” She asked only in an attempt to be the less bossy self that her sisters were always accusing her of being. “I can do whatever you don’t want to do.”
Truthfully, she wouldn’t have minded doing the entire potion herself. After all, the only way one could ensure having something done right was to do it one’s self. But for whatever reason, they were supposed to be working in groups, so making an effort was required. She supposed that she could even go beyond that effort. As she began working, she attempted to dive into an actual conversation, which was difficult, as she didn’t really know what to talk about, “Where are you from? I live in North Carolina with my dad and sisters.”
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Cassie
What would you say?
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Cassie
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Good. I would hate to be in the wrong one. by Edmond Carey
Having been raised both completely removed from the Muggle world and in relative seclusion even from the magical one, Edmond had no reaction to Daniel's name whatsoever. As far as he knew, the other boy was just another Aladren."A pleasure to meet you," he said, extending his hand from habit.
Daniel, as it transpired, was a second year. Edmond thought that was a good thing, since he should at least have a clue what he was doing that wasn't purely theoretical. With both of them in Aladren, it also probably gave Edmond a slightly unfair advantage over the other first years, but he thought he could rationalize that away. Anyone could've been in the seat beside him; sitting where he had could have landed him with the worst potential partner in the room, but he'd been lucky.
"I'm afraid I haven't," he said, shaking his head. "All of my previous education was in theory, not practice." He had always suspected that was more about Jane's tendency to be a bit...restless than any real desire to follow the letter or spirit of the law; as sheltered as he'd been, he had still known that the family was not above occasionally getting its hands dirty even before Morgaine warned him to expect a certain amount of negative reaction to their name at school.
"Because of that, I'm going to guess you want me to do the things that are hardest to mess up," he said. "Getting the water, powdering the daisy roots..." If he ended up with a first year for a partner next year, that was about as much as he would entrust said first year with, anyway, and even then he'd make sure he kept an eye on the other kid's work the entire time. "So I'll get started on that." He took up his own new cauldron and joined the line for water.
Returning with it, Edmond took great care not to spill any as he set the cauldron back up. This effort was a success, and he turned back to Daniel with a sense of satisfaction slightly out of proportion to the relative magnitude of the achievement. "What else should I do?" he asked.
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Edmond Carey
Good. I would hate to be in the wrong one.
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Edmond Carey
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No... just "try not to cause harm to yourself or others" by Connie
Connie mulled over Jose's explanation and ruled that it made sense, and that these weren't dangerous, illicit substances after all. His wandering off with the cauldron also reminded her that he'd asked her to do something other than gossip about their seventh year relatives and she began to weigh out the ingredients. Or try to. The closest she'd come before to measuring ingredients had been baking, and that was all done in cups. And although the funny, old-fashioned scales seemed straightforward enough – put a weight on one side and the ingredient on the other, Pepper had explained that along with many, many other things that would be different – however careful and minute an amount she put on or took off, the scales seemed to swing wildly.Her attention was snapped back to the more important matter at hand by Jose's return and the revelation that Pepper seemed to have lost out because of some dumb poll of Saul's roommates.
“That's stupid,” she scowled, “Particularly if he liked Pepper more, he should have just asked her. I bet she's way nicer than this B.O. person too.” Her mouth returned the smile he gave her, it was sort of automatic, but the kind of automatic based in the fact that Jose was nice and she liked him, and nice people deserved to get smiles back. Her eyes still looked somewhat scowly, however, and preoccupied with the unfairness of Date by Jury.
“Oh. Um... sort of?” she ventured when Jose asked whether the asphodel was ready. She was glad he seemed so easy going and like he wasn't going to laugh at her or get angry and snooty that she hadn't been able to do it. “I'm not really used to scales like this and I can't seem to get it to stop in the middle. Even if I put the teensiest piece on, it seems to leap wildly one way or the other.”
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Connie
No... just "try not to cause harm to yourself or others"
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Connie
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Oh, so why didn't he just say that to start with? by Jose
Jose shrugged and spread his hands in a don't blame me gesture when Connie pointed out his cousin was stupid. Jose had no intention of arguing in favor of the intelligence of a guy who honestly thought it was okay to spell 'cat' with a 'k'. "I don't pretend to understand what passes for thought in Saul's head."He leaned in to squint at the scale when she admitted to having difficulty getting it to balance out. Taking out his army knife, he took out one of his organically grown asphodel roots from his potions kit and sliced it into tiny slivers. "I help in the food tent, sometimes," he explained the ease that practice with carrots had granted him. "Try adding these one at a time, see if that helps." He didn't think having the root sliced would make too huge a difference . . .
He checked the water again. They were starting to get bubbles forming along the bottom and sides. It would start simmering soon. He trimmed the fire to give them a little more time.
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Jose
Oh, so why didn't he just say that to start with?
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Jose
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Daniel Nash II
June 08, 2009 11:52 AM
Yeah, that would be bad by Daniel Nash II
Daniel returned the handshake, momentarily thinking it was a little odd to do so over just meeting a classmate, but quickly dismissing the whole thing as unimportant as they turned to the matter at hand. Edmond hadn't brewed before and seemed to understand Daniel's reluctance to allow a beginner to try the more difficult parts of the assignment.By the time Edmond had returned with the water, Daniel had finished measuring out the asphodel and was looking ahead at the later steps to make sure nothing was going to catch them by surprise. "First, we need to get the water to a low simmer."
Daniel flicked his wand and muttered a quiet, "Incendio," to get the fire started under the newly filled cauldron. "You can start getting the daisy roots powdered," he gave Edmond a small smile that admitted the task was the unskilled busywork the kid had guessed it was, but then added, to keep things a little interesting for him, "and keep an eye on that. Timing's the most important thing in potion making and the asphodel is supposed to go in when the bubbles start to rise."
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Daniel Nash II
Yeah, that would be bad
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Daniel Nash II
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Doubtful by Jethro
The boy was called Andrew. This was great - Jethro was starting to get the hang of introductions and names. He'd never been with people he didn't know before he came to Sonora, so the experience was enlightening. "Have you done this before?" Andrew asked then.Jethro considered the question. The subject wasn't specified, and the word 'this' could have any number of substitutable meanings. For example he could have been asking if Jethro had conducted introductions before. That seemed plausible. He could have been asking if Jethro had attended classes before. He could have been asking if he'd worn uniform before, or even if he'd been left alone to brew a potion. Deciding it wasn't really that important considering most of these occurances had been experienced at a relatively similar frequesncy, Jethro replied, "Not much," and left it at that.
Then Andrew said he would sort out the water if Jethro wanted to sort out the ingredients. Jethro couldn't remember having expressed a desire to sort out the ingrdients - indeed, he wasn't even sure such a desire existed. Yet he wasn't opposed to the idea, and, never even considering the statement was rhetorical, presumed Andrew was happy with him to proceed nonetheless. So Jethro checked his textbook carefully for the ingredients.
Asphodel root. Well he had no idea what that was. There wasn't a picture of it or anything. Jethro took out his small potions kit, which had everything neatly labelled for him by his older sister to minimise confusion. She was so helpful like that. But there was no asphodel root there. They couldn't do the potion without it. Luckily, Jethro thought he had heard the not-professor say something about a store cupboard. He looked around and saw other students gathered about a large cupboard. That must be it. Heading over, Jethro skipped the queue and just stood behind the person closest to the ingredients. "Asphodel root?" he enquired, and was rewarded with a vague gesture. Spying a clearly labelled box, Jethro reached over the shoulder of whoever stood between him and his goal, and closed his fingers around the root. One down.
Returning to his desk, Jethro put the asphodel root down and then turned back to his ingredients. Daisy root. That would be easy to get if he was outside because there were lots of daisies in his own garden, and there were probably some at Sonora, too. However they hadn't been given permission to leave the classroom, so Jethro looked in his potions kit again. Ah, there it was: daisy root. Jethro took the small, clear bag out and displayed it next to the other kind of root. He pondered for a second that neither root looked at all like the other, and then he remembered there were still other ingredients to find.
Fluxweed. Jethro fell into his new routine of checking his potions kit, and when he discovered it wanting, he moved back over to the potions cupboard and employed a similar tactic of his previous visit. When he returned with the odd weed in his hand, he discovered that Andrew had arrived with their cauldron. Funny, Jethro had almost forgotten he had a partner and they were making a potion. He had been enjoying his ingredient-finding exercise.
"They are looking okay to me," he answered the question. "Well, the ashpodel root is a bit shrivelled but I don't know what they normally look like so that might be fine. The daisy roots look odd without the daisies on top." Jethro laid the fluxweed next to the two different roots. "I still have the ginger left to get," he told Andrew, "but I'm fairly sure I have some of that in my potions kit." Reaching across the table, Jethro rummaged through his kit until he pulled out two items - a lumpy-looking root with a label 'ginger', and another clear packet filled with a pale powder, tht was also labelled 'ginger.' "Oh dear," Jethro said, eyeing both gingers. "I wonder which one we should use?"
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Jethro
Doubtful
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Jethro
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5
Probably very little; I'll leave it to you after all. by David
"Uh, thanks. Same to you."David watched, equal parts bemused and curious, as Cassie meticulously cataloged her supply of ingredients. Both of his parents were exceptionally fastidious in their manners, and he was no stranger to the proclivities of the Type A. It could be wrapping Christmas presents or designing a new engine part, his mother approached both with firm and detailed preparation. Outlines of outlines, with line item abstracts and sixty-slide PowerPoint presentations, would be produced before the first hands-on task was attempted.
David had learned patience this way, and in those long moments of waiting, he had learned to find ways to interest himself. His father labeled this development as 'counter-productive' and 'distracting'.
"I'll take the daisy roots then," he decided, comfortable with the task as he had often been responsible for a similar job involving garlic and the marble mortar and pestle he removed from his potions kit. With precise movements completely incongruous to his appearance and behavior, David began the slow circular grinding necessary with the pestle, his brown eyes studious and his shoulders hunched. More of his too long hair fell into his eyes, and absently, he wiped at it with his free hand.
"North Carolina's pretty," he commented, having driven through the state numerous times when his family had been stationed on the east coast. Trips to the Appalachians for hiking and camping had dominated the ventures, and much of his present love for nature derived from the experiences. "My family's military, so I'm sort of from all over. We just transferred to Aviano, in Italy this summer, so I guess you can say I'm from there."
He made another slow pass of the pestle before pushing the mortar to his left and wiping his now clammy palms on his slacks. "I'm a, uh, Muggleborn, so this is really new to me. How about you- is your dad a wizard, or are any of your sisters witches?"
David was genuinely interested in Cassie's answer, his curiosity only marginally sated by his first day conversation with his roommate Andrew. As exposed as he had been to other cultures, the wizarding one still felt inordinately alien to him, and he was in a slow rush to turn it into familiarity.
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David
Probably very little; I'll leave it to you after all.
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David
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5
A cheering potion is exactly what the doctor ordered. by Euna Song
Euna Song arrived to her potions class drawn and pale, her white blouse wrinkled and spare threads drifting from her grey sweater. Her black hair was free from its usual braided pigtails and hung limply over her shoulders. She fell into an open seat in the third row of work tables and rested her forehead against the table's cool surface, closing her eyes.The bullying had increased tenfold since the Welcoming Feast. During mealtimes, in the hallways, in the library, in the Gardens- it didn't seem to matter where Euna was, somehow her brother managed to find a ways to inflict his annoyance on her: broken shoelaces, singed hair tips, stolen quills, drenched clothes, and even one instance of crushing her glasses. She still wasn't sure what it was she had done to incur his anger, but after several days of it, she was exhausted.
She straightened once the lesson began, responded to her name being called, and it was only when her quill snapped that her thinly held composure faltered. After the same thing happened with a second and third quill, she gave up on taking notes, and instead focused on reading the mentioned passage in the text and reviewing the instructions left on the board. She liked Professor Fawcett; he seemed, by all appearances, a nice sort of teacher, the sort who didn't play to favorites and simply taught.
And she was currently filled with gratitude that their assignment of choice was a cheering potion; if anything, what she needed at present was a generous dose of good cheer. It was with this in mind that she gathered her spirits and turned to her neighbor. "Hey, want to work togeth-"
But her momentary spurt of optimism dissipated abruptly as her words were cut off by the audible collapse of her potions kit. Euna stared down at the decimated pile of glass and ingredients, previously so meticulously treated and organized and now nothing more than useless debris; unbidden, she burst into tears and heard nothing of her neighbor's response.
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Euna Song
A cheering potion is exactly what the doctor ordered.
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Euna Song
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Quentin
June 12, 2009 5:37 PM
Filet of a fenny snake... by Quentin
Quentin smiled pleasantly and considered what she said. It wasn't much that wasn't clear. She was Marissa and she found it nice to meet him. He always wondered, however, why people said they were pleased to meet someone before getting to know them. For all Marissa knew, Quentin could be incredibly obnoxious. It always tripped him up as well how he was supposed to reply to that when he didn't know yet if it was nice to meet her. He supposed he could consider meeting new people nice in itself,even if he later found out they weren't so pleasant. Besides, Quentin generally found most people pleasant. "It's nice to meet you too." He responded. At the moment, it technically was as Marissa had not done anything really to make him think otherwise.And then there was that she said they had everything they needed. Quentin wondered briefly how she knew everything he could possibly need. It wasn't much that he did need right this very moment beyond the potions ingredients which he had so that was technically true, but Marissa had no way of knowing that. And it was obvious that Marissa didn't need anything else either since she was the one who had said they had everything they needed.
There were things that they didn't have that they did need though, like food. It was just that they didn't need that right this very moment. And they needed the water for the lesson too and he was about to point that out when Marissa offered to start chopping asphodel if Quentin would go get the water. That was fine with him as it would take care of the one thing they actually did still neeed.
"All right then, I will go and get the water so we'll have that too." He went to go and get it and brought it back to their station, only managing to spill a tiny bit here and there. "Here's the water. Shall I start grinding up the ginger next?" Quentin inquired.
11
Quentin
Filet of a fenny snake...
129
Quentin
0
5
I guess we'll find out by Andrew
Something was telling Andrew that Jethro wasn't a master of social interaction, but that was alright, he wasn't either. He wasn't much of a master of identifying potion components either, was the asphodel root supposed to look like that? He glanced around at some of the other work benches trying to see what everyone else had on their benches."I'm not sure either," Andrew replied looking back at the root on their table, "But according to the book, we need to get just the right amount in when the water starts to bubble." Pulling his scales out, he began to chop the root up to measure out the right amount. These scales were a little trickier than they looked, he hoped he got the right amount.
He looked over as Jethro asked about the ginger. "This one I think I know. We need the powder... the recipe would ask for ginger root otherwise." Andrew paused for a moment, "I'm pretty sure anyway." He looked around again, and saw some of the other students grinding something. That must be right then. He smiled to himself, hopefully he was right.
A thought did occur to him which he voiced without realizing it, "What is the difference? The root and the powder are the same thing... why do some recipes specify the root and the others, powder?"
2
Andrew
I guess we'll find out
145
Andrew
0
5
Awkward...? by Clarissa Marigold
“Hey, want to work...” Euna began. Clarissa could see the girls’ name written neatly inside the open potions book. Clarissa interrupted cheerfully; “Sure”, but was drowned out by a sudden loud cracking sound as Euna’s potion box shattered loudly, scattering ingredients over the floor. Clarissa paused, momentarily startled by the bang and then noticed Euna sobbing quietly. Clarissa dropped to her hands and knees, saying firmly “Don’t worry, I’ll clear this up. You take a moment to compose yourself”For the first time Clarissa looked directly at Euna and realised this was the girl they’d all been startled to see being dragged away from the Aladren table at the feast the night before. She wondered if that had anything to do with this upset. She wanted to ask but felt awkward, feeling it might be prying and would make her more upset. Clarissa looked around but everyone was so busy dropping cauldrons of water that it didn’t seem anyone had noticed Euna’s tears. So Clarissa settled on the floor, picking up bits of root, scalpels and other tools. After she had gathered the remnants of the potion kit, she looked up and said “Are you okay now? Don’t worry about not having any ingredients, you can share mine and Professor Fawcett mentioned a store cupboard with spares?”
“I’m happy to be your pair – I’m not sure you heard me before.” Clarissa carried on taking control, rather impressed with herself for being so mature. She bustled around taking roots out of her kit and set her cauldron on the table, ready to be carried to the taps for water. She hoped Euna hadn’t taken her earlier question wrongly... she hadn’t meant to imply that Euna was crying over something as simple as easily-replaceable ingredients, yet she didn’t want to mention any event that might upset Euna further. She paused awkwardly, waiting for a response.
0
Clarissa Marigold
Awkward...?
0
Clarissa Marigold
0
5
Teachers like to phrase things in a confusing way by Connie
"Thanks," she smiled, taking the asphodel root slices from Jose, glad he wasn't getting annoyed with her for being slow with it. "Food tent?" she questioned, as she added them carefully to the scales. They moved more slowly, thanks to Jose's greater level of precision, and she found herself able to stop them in the middle. "There you go," she declared, passing them to him, "Just right."Turning to consult the textbook, it informed her that the next thing they needed was powdered daisy roots. Looking into the Potions kit, and finding the little whitish straggles, it looked like the powdering was something they were going to have to do themselves. She began heaping them on to the scales, the fact that they were smaller and lighter than the asphodel meaning that even her rough portioning meant she could get the balance.
"So, that's the daisy roots... How do we go about achieving the 'powdered' bit?" she asked. The walking information leaflet service known as Pepper had only mentioned that ingredients mostly came in their rawest form and that there were a number of different ways in which she would be expected to prepare things. Speaking, or rather thinking, of Pepper, she was drawn back to what the pressure of the potion-making had distracted her from.
"Do you think there's anything we can do about it?" she asked, "Saul and Pepper, I mean."
13
Connie
Teachers like to phrase things in a confusing way
0
Connie
0
5
If only everyone had just a little dab of this. by Adelita Garcia (Crotalus)
Adelita walked into the Potions classroom with a sense of relief that she had remembered where the classroom was even located. Potions class wasn’t her best class, but it wasn’t her worst class either. She wasn’t even entirely sure she had a ‘best class’ but that was okay as long as she could keep her head above water with all of the classes. At least, that’s what her dad had told her just before she had come back to Sonora. Her parents didn’t expect her to be perfect, but they expected her to do her best and that’s all she was able to give them.Entering the room, Lita’s eyebrows raised slightly at the sight of Professor Fawcett. She knew he was the substitute, whom had been around quite a lot last year, but she hadn’t expected to see him so soon again. Oh well, she actually liked Professor Fawcett, he was very nice and she always just treated him as though he were a regular professor instead of a substitute.
Setting her bag on the ground near the foot of her chair, Adelita pulled her potions book from her bag, a quill, ink, and parchment before settling in to get ready for their first Potions lesson. After the usual announcements and roll call, Professor Fawcett began their lesson by directing them to the cheering draught in their potions book for them to begin today. Reading over the potion, Lita decided it wouldn’t be too bad to do and if she managed to actually do it right, she’d slip some into her sister’s juice when she returned home for the holidays. Dulcé really did need some cheering of some sort. That girl could be a total downer when she wanted to be.
She had heard the professor advise on getting a partner, which Lita never quite understood for potions, but she looked around the room anyway. Last year, Lita had met quite a few people through classes simply because partners seemed to be protocol for all lessons. This year, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to meet more people or just reacquaint herself with the ones she already knew. There were already quite a few partners. Daniel and Euna were already taken and Lita was quite pleased to find that Quentin already had a partner. She had no idea where Charlie was or Nathaniel for that matter. Sighing quietly, Lita turned to a person who was nearby and without a partner. “Hi, do you mind if I work with you on this potion?”
0
Adelita Garcia (Crotalus)
If only everyone had just a little dab of this.
0
Adelita Garcia (Crotalus)
0
5
Charlotte Abbott
June 16, 2009 4:34 PM
Some need it more than others by Charlotte Abbott
Charlie was in a really fantastic part of her Christina Jones book. She wasn't supposed to be reading it - it was her mom's book but Charlie was far too grown up for the kids books she owned at home. And sure the library at Sonora was immense, but older teen romances seemed more than lacking.The second year managed to make it to potions early, and did her very best to feign attention to the class by keeping her head buried in her book. She didn't notice who'd sat around her and only made very brief scribbled notes, such as page number, during the sub-professor's speech. She also managed to answer her name in the register, but that was easy seeing as she was always right at the start of the roll call.
In fact, Charlotte managed to keep her head down, glued to her pages, until Lita's voice from quite nearby distracted her. Looking up, Charlie blinked in surprise. "Oh hello," she said with a pleased smile. "I totally didn't see you there!" Sliding a bookmark back in place and resigning herself to finish the chapter later, Charlie held the book up for her best friend to see. "You'll have to borrow this once I'm done with it," she enthused. "It's the best."
Dropping the book back in her bag, Charlotte turned her full attention back to Lita. "So," she said with an overdone sigh. "What torture are we subject to this morning?"
0
Charlotte Abbott
Some need it more than others
135
Charlotte Abbott
0
5
Hassled... by Insomnia Zannicci
Insomnia traipsed into class behind the rest of her housemates, hastily finding a seat to slump in. She let the secondhand cauldron thump to the floor beside her and rested her chin in her hands. She made quite a sight really, all neat and pretty in her new uniform - but her mussed up hair and tired eyes gave her away. Okay, so she hadn’t had time to brush her hair this morning. So what? It’d been a long night, getting to know her dorm mate. She’d tried to sleep but it’d all been a bit much and she reckoned she’d been overwhelmed with stimuli, what with the long trip to America, and then all this new-fangled magic stuff. It was odd, coming from a muggle family. She hadn’t even known magic was anything more than a fairy tale, ‘though she believed in it in her own way. Certainly, she had no idea that she could do magic. But! Apparently Sandra could tell these things and had sent off an application to Sonora, and now here she was; intrigued, but slightly worried, about Potions and her ability to master it.Plus, not only had she been up late, she'd also woken early, remembering the mention of mapmaking. However, Professor Flatt had been a no-show and so they'd followed the prefect - Pepper Jones, was it? - to Cascade Hall for a very early breakfast. Insomnia'd only eaten cereal, having over-done it the night before. This woke her up somewhat, re-energised her and put her in the mood to attempt a map so somewhere stuffed in one of her pockets was a crumpled sheet with wonky lines showing the way from the commons, to the hall and on to potions. However, her attempt had been a bit pathetic and she'd braved the prefect, asking "Would it be possible for a basic map to be made for us first years?" - she'd received quite a positive response. Pepper had said that she'd talk to someone (Insomnia couldn't remember who) and then let the first years know.
Suddenly ‘Nia realised that everyone around her seemed to be writing things down. That's what happens when lost in your own train of thought. She awkwardly rushed to grab her notebook, quill and ink. She had a nice subject folder and was confident she could keep everything organised. She carefully took down the information provided with – ‘Potions: Professor J.M Fawcett’ – written on the left and the date on the right. There, that looked tidy enough.
Insomnia didn’t understand the concerned looks of everyone around her at the information that this Professor J.M Fawcett was actually a substitute. She’d been through a couple of schools as she got hoisted round foster families and had found that some substitutes were better than normal teachers, maybe she felt a camaraderie with them because she hadn’t necessarily been there long either. Still, she carefully wrote down 'temporary?’ under the Professor’s name.
Insomnia didn’t bother to take down the rules, as she’d found Rule Lists for every first year subject in her induction pack. Being the organised type, she had photocopied each list and stuck one into each Topic Textbook. She did however note down ‘P37 – Cheering potions’ once she had answered to her name. Underneath this she scrawled ‘Ingredients: Asphodel root, Daisy root, Fluxweed and Ginger’
Adding in an asterix, she noted that ‘There are extra ingredients in the store cupboard if needed’
Finally, she bent down to her satchel (which she’d been carrying in her cauldron) and pulled out a new Potions book. She read carefully to make sure the Professor hadn’t missed any ingredients and almost missed his order to “Separate into partners...” Caught out, she stopped midsentence and looked around to see if anyone was free next to her. Yes, there was someone slightly down the table – and pushing the empty chair between them aside asked, “Would you like to work with me?”
0
Insomnia Zannicci
Hassled...
0
Insomnia Zannicci
0
5
cheered up? by bridjalyn Tuppin Pecari
Bridjalyn bounced happily into Potions class and quickly found a seat. So far she was really enjoying Sonora Academy, the new sights, sounds, smells and people and everything. As the Professor began talking she studied him and decided he looked and sounded nice enough which was great. He also seemed to know what he was talking about even if he had declared himself a substitute, though how you could be a substitute if you were teaching the same class two years in a row she wasn’t sure. She hoped that if he did prove to be a good teacher then he would last till the end of the year because swapping teachers could be a frustrating business.Her attention wandered slightly and she found it hard to sit still as her eager eyes took in the room and the people around her. She heard her name being called and quickly responded “ here” and then listened to the rest of the introduction as the teacher explained what they would be doing today. A cheering draught. Hearing that actually made her want to cry and her eyes welled up slightly because the only time she had had one of those before was after a number of things had gone wrong a few years back. First she had been sitting in the garden with her pet rabbit and guinea pig when a fox had attacked. Both her pets had lost their lives in the battle and as she had run screaming into the house she had fallen and knocked some teeth out and blood had gone everywhere. Then her muggle babysitter had taken her to a muggle dentist! It was horrific! Bridjalyn had complete sympathy for anyone scared of their dentist and was very glad she came from a magical world where in general she could avoid dentists barbaric (or so it seemed to her ) practices. Fortunately her dad had rescued her and managed to calm her down and cheer her up with his cheering draught. As she mused on those unfortunate events a girl sitting near her turned and spoke. “Would you like to work with me?”
“Sure, My name is Bridjalyn, what’s yours?”
0
bridjalyn Tuppin Pecari
cheered up?
0
bridjalyn Tuppin Pecari
0
5
Marissa
June 20, 2009 1:55 AM
In the cauldron boil and bake. by Marissa
"That's good," Marissa said when Quentin announced exactly what he was going to do and why. It felt like she ought to respond in some way, and that was the only thing she could think of to say. Was it normal, in the Wizarding World, to make statements like that before starting to do something? She'd already realized that people here were literal and a bit smarter-seeming than people she was used to, and after finding out that magic was real...Well, the details of the social code would have to be pretty darn bizarre to really surprise her now. "And I will slice the asphodel while you do that so we'll have it in the right format."She read over the instructions twice, carefully making sure she hadn't missed anything, before she actually picked up a knife and set to work on what, according to her labeled set of potion ingredients, was asphodel. Every perfectionistic, nitpicky bone in her body demanded that she do this just right, thereby gaining teacher approval and proving she could keep up with the students here.
Such was her concentration on her task that Marissa jumped, surprised, at the sound of her partner's voice announcing a successful completion of his task. The knife came down half an inch from the tip of her finger, making her wince as she considered how messy that could have gotten. Landing in the infirmary on her first day didn't seem like one of the most promising starts to a school career. She pushed a strand of brown hair back as she looked back up at Quentin.
"Um, sure," she said. In her whole life, she'd never heard a real person use the word 'shall' while not seeming to be joking. "Shall I powder the daisy roots once I finish with the asphodel?"
16
Marissa
In the cauldron boil and bake.
147
Marissa
0
5
Quentin
June 25, 2009 7:33 PM
Eye of newt and toe of frog by Quentin
As he returned and Marissa jumped, Quentin frowned. "Did you cut yourself?" He asked. He didn't see any blood but he'd seen her wince so maybe she had harmed herself after all. Quentin hoped she was all right. He'd feel awful if she had cut herself. But if she had, there would be blood wouldn't there? That was what tended to happen when the skin was came in contact with a fast moving sharp object. Quentin peered closer and still didn't see any blood, but if Marissa hadn't cut herself why did she wince? Maybe it was like a paper cut. Except it couldn't be a paper cut because it wasn't on paper, it was a knife. And knife cuts usually produced more blood.Fairly confident that Marissa was all right, in terms of not cutting herself with the knife, Quentin sat back down, placing the cauldron on the table. "That would be fine," he responded. He was glad that they seemed to be working together so well and also that Marissa seemed not to be in too much pain. After all, if she'd harmed herself with the knife she would not only be bleeding heavily but most likely screaming a lot. Not screaming her head off, as Quentin was certain that screaming could not decapitate someone. Nor would she be screaming bloody murder, because Quentin had never heard someone use the exact words bloody murder when they were hurt either physically or emotionally.
People came up with a great many phrases that simply did not make sense. Like the phrase "mano y mano".That was ridiculous the way people used it. They always used it to mean man to man when it literally meant hand and hand. Were the two men supposed to hold each other's hands when talking or just press their palms together? Were they supposed to do it with one hand or both? And why not woman to woman or man to woman as well? Could women talk man to man? Quentin supposed both genders could technically talk hand to hand but it tended to be mostly male students at his family's school using the phrase so it was unlikely that they were going to be talking woman to woman or man to woman anyway. One time he had heard the phrase used by one big burly seventh year student when he was mad at another big burly seventh year student. Quentin had jumped in and corrected them. If he had not been the Headmaster's grandson and they hadn't been so confused, he probably would have been beaten or hexed.
Come to think of it, who talked with their hands anyway? Quentin knew some people gestured a lot and that was considered talking with ones hands but hands did not have voices of their own. He supposed there was sign language, which was used for deaf people.
He began to grind the ginger. "So, Marissa," Quentin began "How are you liking Sonora so far?" He figured he might as well start a conversation with her while they worked. It would be fine so long as they stayed on task as well.
11
Quentin
Eye of newt and toe of frog
129
Quentin
0
5
... yay? by Jethro
Jethro had picked a good partner in Andrew, it seemed. He was a hard worker by all appearances, and he knew which ginger to use. Satisfied, Jethro dropped the unwanted root back into his potions kit, and had begun to open the powder packet when he was faced with a question: "The root and the powder are the same thing... why do some recipes specify the root and the others, powder?""That's obvious," Jethro replied, not meaning to be rude but to him the answer was clear. "They do different things." He thought of a bizarre but useable example. "You wouldn't use a whole cow to make soup. It would taste funny, and take a millenium to dissolve and you'd need a really really big pot," he told Andrew. "Much better to just use stock."
Entirely satisfied with his answer, Jethro took his own scales and measured out the right amount of ginger powder before starting to shred the fluxweed. It occurred to him how pleasant it was to have the instructions written down in front of him. He couldn't possibly go wrong. And even if he did, Andrew would surely stop him from doing anything too dangerous. "I think I like this class," he told Andrew. "Even though it smells unpleasant."
0
Jethro
... yay?
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Jethro
0
5
Marissa
June 26, 2009 11:55 AM
Wool of bat and tongue of dog. by Marissa
Marissa blushed slightly when Quentin asked if she had cut herself. "No," she said, putting the hand in question down by her side and rubbing it against her jeans automatically as she did. "You just surprised me." At least, she assumed he had asked because of her jumping like an idiot, because she couldn't think of another reason for it. "Got a little too caught up with the asphodel," she tried, a weak effort at a joke. She laughed awkwardly and went back to chopping asphodel.She was still careful with that, but made sure to keep one ear open in case Quentin said or did something else. About the time she finished reducing the plant to almost-equally-sized pieces, the precaution paid off. Marissa finished up with the last bit of asphodel before she answered, just to give herself an extra two seconds to think of what to say.
"It's...interesting," she said. That was true. "It's a lot different from home. I've never been to a boarding school, and..." She paused in reaching for the daisy roots to make a small, encompassing gesture at the classroom. "It's still a little overwhelming." Since she didn't want to sound all whiny on her first full day, though, she was quick to tack on a qualifier. "I think I like it, though," she added, using her best bright, optimistic tone. "What about you? Do you like it here?"
16
Marissa
Wool of bat and tongue of dog.
147
Marissa
0
5
Yeah. . . just a bit. by Euna
Euna sniffled and wiped at her eyes, attempting to nod her thanks and understanding as the first year girl- Clarissa was her name; she'd heard it a few times when crossing the common room and during the Sorting- began to clean the mess. It was just too cruel of Min-e; it was entirely too much. She hadn't done anything to deserve this level of bullying, and even now, she could see him across the room grinning to himself as he sat, sprawled out in his chair."Thank you," she finally managed with a final swipe at her eyes.
Euna exhaled slowly before withdrawing a small band from her bag and pulling her hair back and out of her now red-rimmed eyes. Now that she had achieved some semblance of her normal neatness, she considered her ruined potions kit. Little of it looked salvageable. The ingredients would all need to be replaced, cross-contamination too high of a probability. She would have to ask Professor Fawcett for permission to re-stock, and before that she would need to write home to her mother for money to buy a new storage set--
She sighed and pressed a hand to her temple.
"I'm okay now," she reassured, after a moment of pause. Embarrassment warmed her cheeks as realization finally caught up to her. "I'm so sorry about this. My brother's prank-" She could think of no other word to use and not further the awkwardness. "- just caught me a bad moment."
She offered a shaky smile and opted for a not-too-smooth segue. "I'll take care of the ginger if you like; I'm used to shredding it from home already." She reached for the named ingredient, pleased that her earlier trembling had resolved itself. "I'm Eun Ae, by the way," she added, careful with the pronunciation of yoon-EH-ah. "Please, though, Euna's just fine."
0
Euna
Yeah. . . just a bit.
0
Euna
0
5
That is very true by Lita
Adelita’s eyebrows shot up when the face that emerged from behind a book was her best friend, Charlie. It didn’t surprise Lita that Charlie hadn’t seen her, especially since Lita didn’t even notice Charlie because of that book her nose had been stuffed into. Lita never really read for fun. Dancing was what she did and where all her focus was growing up and in her free time these days. How Charlie could calm herself enough to lose herself in a book was beyond Lita’s understanding.At Charlie’s statement about the book and how Lita would have to borrow it, Adelita smiled and nodded in agreement even if she knew that she probably wouldn’t ever borrow the book. Dulce probably would have, she enjoyed losing herself in various things, but Lita never really displayed that sort of affection.
“We have to make a cheering potion.” Adelita informed her friend. She had heard of cheering charms, but not so much of potions. Perhaps because charms were easier to come by then spending the time to make the potion. Either way, she was well aware that making a potion incorrectly, no matter how simple the potion, could lead to very bad things. “We need asphodel root, fluxweed, daisy root, and ginger.” Lita glanced at her supplies from her kit. Thankfully, her mother had her kit refilled prior to her coming to school so she didn’t have to dig for anything.
“Do you want to take the asphodel root and ginger?” Lita asked. She hated chopping and grinding things to powder, but it was always best to get that done out of the way before doing anything else. “It doesn’t seem too bad of a potion, but you know how touchy these things can be.”
0
Lita
That is very true
0
Lita
0
5
How bad could this possibly go...? by Andrew
Andrew paused in his chopping and measuring for a moment to think about Jethro's analogy. It made sense on some level... but at the same time, it didn't quite work. A cow was made of many different parts, many of which you wouldn't want in your soup. The ginger was all the same, unless you were supposed to peel off the outer layer before grinding it up. He may have to look that up sometime, just in case he had to grind ginger. He made himself a mental note, which promptly vanished as soon as his mind wandered back to the original problem."The powder seems like the better choice then for a recipe. What would a chunk of root do for a potion, just sitting in the bottom of the cauldron?" He looked at their cauldron while posing the question, and noticed bubbles beginning to form on the sides and bottom. That meant something.
Andrew scanned back over the instructions for the potion, right! The ingredients were supposed to go in as the bubbles were beginning to appear. He panicked a moment, the turned down the fire just a bit.
He smiled at Jethro's comment, "Well, it's going to start smelling a bit more interesting. It's time to start dumping in the ingredients." He hoped it wasn't to late for the asphodel root and dropped his into the cauldron. "We've got just a little time till the next bit goes in."
2
Andrew
How bad could this possibly go...?
145
Andrew
0
5
Not quite, but getting there =) by Insomnia Zannicci
“I’m Insomnia, but you can call me ‘Nia if you prefer.” Turning back to the book, ‘Nia noted that the ginger should be ground and the daisy roots powdered. Peering into her ingredients box Insomnia found neatly prepared sets of ingredients – however her box held only solid ginger root or a packet of powdered ginger so they were going to have to do the grinding themselves. “I’ve got ginger root and daisy roots here – as we’re making it together we can share ingredients, I don’t mind us using mine.” Insomnia smiled at the other girl, Bridjalyn, and moved quickly to the cupboard labelled ‘pestles and mortars’, having collected that equipment she placed it on the desk and took a better look at her companion. Well, she seemed big enough to carry a cauldron of water. “Could you take one of our cauldrons to the tap and get the water for us please? I’ll grind the ginger root”Insomnia hadn’t made a potion before, but she reckoned it was just like cooking, and she’d learnt cooking by a) reading instructions and b) trial and error, so she was happy just getting on with things. She was too tired to remember her manners and just expected the other girl to comply with her taking leadership of the task, after all, it wasn’t a big deal and the other girl could say if she didn’t want to do anything.
Insomnia found a chopping board and began to chop the bulky ginger root so it would be easier to grind. She then got on with grinding, which was actually quite an exhausting task. Swapping hands, she sneaked a peek at the people on the next table – yep, they seemed to be doing the same sort of delegating and activities as her and her partner so it was all good. ‘Nia rolled her shoulders, releasing some of her tension and giggled as one of the other pairs splashed water over each other. She hastily glanced towards the teacher’s desk – Professor Fawcett appeared preoccupied, thankfully.
Involved in the grinding, Insomnia didn’t really register whether Bridjalyn had returned ... or even left for that matter, and began talking “So do you have asphodel? I think that must have got left out of my supplies. And would you like to sort out powdering the daisy roots or should I? Also, once we’re done with this could you do the weighing? I always find that really awkward, although I like playing with the weights.”
0
Insomnia Zannicci
Not quite, but getting there =)
0
Insomnia Zannicci
0
5
quickly get what you can by Clarissa Marigold
"Euna Don't worry, seriously don't worry" Clarissa said.Just then the bell rang and startled both of them. " hurry and get your stuff, we need to get to the next lesson. I'll help pack up the things you have. Oh, but wait you still need to get stuff from the cupboard. Never mind those things now, we need to get to the next lesson, i don't want you or me to get left behind be late and lost i want to make the right impression.
Euna's eyes grew wide from the rush of things, it was overwhelming her. "Wait, slow down, please, you go ahead and i'll just get the stuff from the cupboard, i would prefer to be late than have no supplies at all!"
Clarissa felt a hugge surge of annoyance towards this girl. Yes, she understood that she was just saying 'don't worry about me i can do it myself you don't need to go out of your way to help me' but that just it. Clarrisa didn't just abandom people she helped them but she didn't like the way how Euna was just being helpless, and in a way weak. "Nevermind i'll help you get stuff from the cupboard and two people are better than one, we can both be a little late rather than you being very late." Clarissa smiled kindly at Euna " want to be partners in next lesson too?"
"sure."
"ok then, but quick we better hurry and stop talking."
They collected the supplies and hurried to the next class hoping not to be too late, the registar was still being taken. Clarissa's name was being called out as the walked throught the door trying not to be noticed when trying to slip soundlessly into a pair of two seats next to one another....
" And where do you think you where?!" boomed a dark and angry voice.
0
Clarissa Marigold
quickly get what you can
0
Clarissa Marigold
0
5
Quentin
July 08, 2009 7:25 PM
Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting, by Quentin
Quentin frowned, slightly confused. "How did I surprise you? I mean, I assume you were expecting me to come back with the water." He went on, his frown changing to a smile. "I'm glad you're not hurt though." There was no reason why he would want Marissa to be and as she was nice and if she had been hurt, he'd have been without a partner, he was glad she was definitely okay.He nodded. "It takes time. I mean, I guess for me, it kind of is like home. My parents run a school for wizards themselves, but its an all male school so I guess the difference here is that there are girls around." His mother,grandmother, great-grandmother, and the female professors did not count. They were all over 18, and were thus women, not girls. "Plus, I'm a student here, rather than the Headmaster's grandson. I have a lot of cousins here though, so I still have family around."
"I'm glad you like it though." Quentin continued. He considered what she said next. He wasn't sure if Marissa meant Sonora or Potions in particular as she had not specified. "I do too. I rather like this class." He nodded at Professor Fawcett. "Even though Professor Fawcett's a substitute, he's really one of the better professors here. I mean, I've heard he's taught not only Potions, but COMC and Transfiguration too. He was also our flying teacher last year and my dad said he's a magisociologist. That's quite impressive, knowing that many subjects well enough to be able to teach them adequately. Not that we have magisociology as a subject. It would be neat if we did, but Sonora can't even seem to keep a permanent teacher for Transfiguration."
He went on, grinding the ginger as he spoke, "Last year, we had someone for History of Magic, who wasn't even really a teacher. He never taught us much, so that's how I figured he really wasn't one, but he's not here anymore." Quentin had heard that his cousin and her friends were the ones behind that. "The new guy is a Cabinet Installation, so we'll see how that turns out. I like Sonora in general though." Quentin figured that was a way to cover all the bases. "If you don't mind me asking, are you from a non-magical background? It's fine if you are, I'm just wondering because you said it's different here than home. Though usually school is different from home, except in my case, but I assume it would be even more different if you haven't grown up with magic."
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Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting,
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Marissa
July 09, 2009 12:43 AM
Lizard's leg and owlet's wing. by Marissa
"Thank you," Marissa said. It wouldn't have been pleasant, having a partner who wanted her hurt. Not that Quentin had any reason to want her hurt, but...She was overthinking it again. "I was expecting you to come back, but I didn't see that you had because I wasn't paying attention."Her eyebrows went up slightly as Quentin talked about where he came from. This wasn't, then, the only magic school that was available. She had thought Sonora looked a little small to be the only middle and high school for an entire secret-but-functional society, but hadn't been able to think of an explanation for why a girl from Georgia would get placed in a school in Arizona. Since Quentin was evidently not the first wizard in his family, Sonora also couldn't be the dumping ground for Muggleborns, which had been quite the viable option. It was interesting. She might have to do some research on this.
Hearing of his cousins made her think of her family back in Athens, and she was startled to realize she missed them. It had never occurred to her, in all the weeks of packing up to come and getting used to the idea of not attending the same school as her sister and friends and living away from Daddy and Mama and Nana, that she'd also miss her cousins. At the moment, she thought she might even be happy to see her Aunt Kelly, and they had never gotten along. It was amazing what not having them all could do to her perceptions.
Because it really wasn't smart to get teary while she had a scalpel in her hand, though, she pushed the thoughts of her family aside and tuned into the talk about professors. Good to know that her evaluation of Professor Fawcett had been a fairly accurate one. She wasn't sure how being one of those guys who installed cabinets qualified the professor Quentin was talking about to teach school, but was used to trusting authority figures to take care of matters like checking out teacher certifications.
"Yeah, my family's non-magical," she said, glancing up from her work. The water seemed to be simmering, so she added in the asphodel. "It was kind of a shock for everyone when I got my letter." She wasn't sure how wise it was - she had a feeling it wasn't wise at all - but curiosity got the better of her. "But - why wouldn't my background be fine?"
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Marissa
Lizard's leg and owlet's wing.
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OOC - please remember posting rules by Headmistress Powell
Hello ClarissaThank you for posting; I'm pleased that you are enthusiastic about classes at Sonora. However, please remind yourself of the site rules before you post again.
You must NOT write for another character - do not post what they say, feel, or think. You can only write for your own character.
I'd also like to point out that the professor has not ended this class, so please consider it to be continuing until told otherwise.
Lastly, please remember to check your posts for spelling and grammar errors.
If you have any questions about the rules, please contact me. I hope you continue to enjoy posting at Sonora!
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Headmistress Powell
OOC - please remember posting rules
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Headmistress Powell
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Re: Not quite, but getting there =) by Anonymous
Bridjalyn smiled as the girl she had agreed to partner got down to making the potion as if she meant serious business. She might be working at high speed but she was efficient too and seemed friendly so Bridjalyn didn't particularly mind the wave of orders that were to be coming at her from Nia. It felt good to be getting on with the business of being a student and making the potions.She went off to fetch some water for the potion, taking her time, enjoying the classroom and the atmosphere of nervous excitement from all the students. As she got back to her table Nia was asking her about asphodel and explaining that she found weighing awkward, so Bridjalyn was happy to take on that task. Nia seemed to have relaxed slightly and they were well on the way with the potion so she decided to find out more about her and what she thought of Sonora so far.
"Have you ever made a potion before? You seem like you know what you’re doing?
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Anonymous
Re: Not quite, but getting there =)
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Anonymous
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Quentin
July 27, 2009 6:27 PM
For a charm of powerful trouble by Quentin
"You're welcome." Quentin replied. He listened as she explained that she hadn't seen him and hadn't been paying attention. Paying attention was typically not a very good thing, especially in the magical world. Of course, it could have been that way in the muggle world too. Quentin wouldn't know, having never been in the muggle world. Actually though it had been apparent that Marissa had been paying attention to what she was doing, just that she wasn't paying attention to him . "Well, you were concentrating on your work. That's more necessary than watching me come back with water. Sorry I startled you though."Quentin nodded. "Mine's all magical. Except Aunt Angelina. She's a muggle and is married to my Uncle Jethro, my dad's brother." His family was actually more ashamed of the fact that Aunt Angelina was a trapeze artist in the circus than the fact that she was a muggle. Even greater than that was the shame that his uncle, despite being a wizard, performed as a muggle magician and had been in trouble many times for using magic in front of muggles, who didn't even really believe it was real anyway. " I don't know her that well though. Nor do I really know the cousins that I have here. Pippa is in my year." Quentin nodded in her direction. "And I think Tawny is in yours." He gestured towards the Pecari first year. "They're...third cousins, I believe." Quentin added as an explanation for why he didn't know them that well. "And then, Adam and Chelsea are older, and also third cousins so I know them even less well then Pippa or Tawny."
"But - why wouldn't my background be fine?"
His face colored. Blood prejudices were not a topic Quentin had really wanted to get into. Then again, seeing as Marissa was a Crotalus, the house most associated with them, fairly or not, perhaps he should give her a bit of warning. "Well, I was really just trying to assure you that I didn't have an issue with it, because I had asked out of curiosity as sometimes people think one is asking because they do care about them." Quentin looked down at his cauldron. "There are wizards, probably some here at Sonora, and even in your house-and in mine too- who um, don't like people who aren't from all-magical backgrounds. I can't name any of these people in particular, I'm sorry. I didn't even mean for the conversation to go in this direction." Quentin finished apologetically, mostly for it ending up this way and for the fact that he couldn't give Marissa names of people to watch out for, then any prejudices he had towards how much magical background someone had, because he didn't have any prejudices towards it.
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For a charm of powerful trouble
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Nope, but there's always a first time. by Insomnia Zannicci
Finally, Insomnia had paused for breath, having realised that she might have come across as quite bossy and abrupt. This had given Bridjalyn the perfect chance to ask a question and 'Nia responded sheepishly, "Nope, haven't done this before - I didn't actually know that all this sort of thing existed in reality before I received Sonora's letter. Still,I've done lots of cooking at home and the best way to do things and improve is to just have a go and get on with it." She sat for a minute, before handing the bowl of ground ginger over to Bridjalyn. "Could you weigh that please?"Looking around, Insomnia saw that some of the other groups already had their cauldrons simmering. Unable to spot any matches, she frowned. She could see some people using their wands to make the flame, but thought that probably wasn't a good idea at this early stage in her witching career. She saw some first years getting "splints" from a drawer and using other people's flames to light this, so she copied them.
Once she'd got the water safely heating up in the cauldron, she turned to Bridjalyn. "How're you getting on with the weighing?"
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Insomnia Zannicci
Nope, but there's always a first time.
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Insomnia Zannicci
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