Dream on (tag Diana Carey) on Potions

Professor Sophie O'Malley

June 04, 2016 7:39 PM

You'll thank me for this one [Years III, IV, and V] by Professor Sophie O'Malley

The Intermediate level, Sophie thought, always got a bad reputation among the staff. Or, at least, a non-favorable one. She knew that she contributed to it as well by favoring the other two classes, but it was hard to avoid. The Beginners were fun because they were so young and (generally) innocent. Most of them were still pretty cute. The Advanced students were fun because they were more mature, on the pinnacle of adulthood. Hell, they weren’t all that much younger than her. But the Intermediates were just sort of… there, young and hormonal and ever so slightly irritating. Not all of them of course--Sophie was obviously extra fond of Kira, for example, but that was a pretty decent bias--but still.

Either way, it was once again time for class with the third, fourth, and fifth years. “Hey guys,” she greeted casually. “While you’re settling in, can you pass your homework to the front row? I’ll be honest, I really don’t want to walk between all your desks.” Sophie wasn’t one to give out homework much--mostly because she hated grading it, plus most of Potions was practical and relied on actually brewing--but sometimes had to give out some question sheets, just to verify they were reading along in their textbooks. But they were fairly easy questions and only due every two weeks or so. “Cool, thanks, guys.”

“But anyway, down to business. Today, we’re brewing the Acne Potion,” Sophie stated. As she spoke, as always, all relevant information appeared on the chalkboard behind her. She placed the question sheets on the right side of her desk before hopping up on the right side. One shoe did not follow her on her ascension, and with a shrug, she kicked off the other one, swinging her short legs merrily.

“The name may be a little bit ambiguous, but this potion heals acne, not cause it,” she elaborated. She noticed a few people start to open their textbooks, but she quickly added, “Oh, this one isn’t in your books. Sorry, I should’ve thought to tell you in advanced that we wouldn’t need them today. This one is a personal recipe.” Sophie dabbled her fair share in the art of potion-making during her apothecary apprenticeship, and this one, once tested and proven safe (she’d had a Hell of a job finding a willing human guinea pig, but fortunately, her cousin Chris had some lingering acne at the end of their teenage years and ~~was easily bullied~~ loved her enough to put his face on the line), had been quite popular among teenagers.

“If I ever stop talking, the instructions will appear behind me on the board,” Sophie said with a shrug, “but before that, just as a reminder, if you’re lacking any ingredients, I have a supply on the counter over there, and at any time, if you need help, just holler for me. Feel free to work together or chat among yourselves--I don’t much care, truthfully--as long as you can still get your work done. Oh, and you’re welcome to keep what you create, but please let me check it before you go using this. There’s fire seeds involved, and if you don’t tend it just right, they may hurt you. Be careful with them.” The end result potion would burn a little thanks to the seeds’ help, but no more so than any other sort of acne scrub, really. “Alright, I’ll shut up now.”

OOC: Instructions:

Combine three crushed dragonfly thoraxes with four doxy eggs
Heat until potion is brown
Add two tsp of flobberworm mucus
Stir seventeen times counterclockwise
Let simmer five minutes, or until the potion is a muddy gold color
CAREFULLY add three fire seeds
Add another tsp of flobberworm mucus
Stir four times clockwise
If the potion is a soft orange, wave your wand and leave it to brew for fifteen minutes
(If the potion is too yellow to be considered orange, add another tsp of flobberworm mucus)

*Credit for the idea to Eliza Steinbeck’s author.

Okay everybody, have fun, follow rules, and make me proud! <3

Subthreads:

Will I? [Tag: Tobi's crush] by Tobias Reinhardt, Teppenpaw with Makenzie Newell

I'm thankful already. by John Spencer, Aladren with John Umland, Aladren

Dream on (tag Diana Carey) by Ginger Pierce, Teppenpaw with Diana Carey, Pecari

12 Professor Sophie O'Malley You'll thank me for this one [Years III, IV, and V] 34 Professor Sophie O'Malley 1 5

Tobias Reinhardt, Teppenpaw

June 07, 2016 5:21 PM

Will I? [Tag: Tobi's crush] by Tobias Reinhardt, Teppenpaw

Tobi walked into Potions class with his head down. He had waited for Liac and Aiden to leave the dorm room that morning and skipped breakfast so that his cousin could not question him. He had so far managed to avoid his prying cousin’s barrage, but he didn’t know how long he could outlast him. Sooner or later he would have to give into Liac. It was weird for him to keep something a secret from his cousin for so long. The two were practically inseparable when they were together and along with his siblings, Liac was probably the most important person in Tobi’s life.

In fact, Liac would probably be the first person Tobi would tell about this particular problem if he didn’t think his cousin wouldn’t make such a big deal out of it. Tobi groaned and closed his eyes, scrunching down as low as he could in his desk which, now that he was a fifth year, was kind of difficult as he had always been a little tall for his age but had begun his growth spurt over the summer. As the darkest and one of the tallest wizards in his class, Tobi stood out already and it was a rather comical sight to see the gentle giant doing his best to not be seen.

This was normally an easy feat for the quiet fifth year as naturally he was easy to skip over since he never made much of a fuss but since Sonora was such a small school without much diversity and he was on one of the Quidditch Teams, Tobi had found that it was harder for him to blend into the background like he did in Turner’s Point. But all he had to do was sit tight, and ride through the rest of the semester. There was only about half a semester left anyway before winter break. He could last, he was sure of it…

And then someone sat down beside him. Someone with a very particular scent and suddenly Tobi’s world crashed down around him. It only got worse as Professor O’Malley began to discuss the potion for the day. It wasn’t as though Tobi really needed it, he had somehow (by some strange twist of fate due either to his mixed skin, his mother’s homemade herbal face wash, or the amount of time he spent outdoors in the clean, non-polluted air) evaded the whole teenage acne crisis aside from a few pimples here and there, but it was still kind of an embarrassing potion to do with the person sitting next to him.

“So,” he said in his quiet, deep voice as Professor O’Malley told them to start working. “I’ve no more doxy eggs, I used them up last time and I’m still waiting on the ones I ordered to come in but I can supply the dragonfly thoraxes.” He paused briefly, unsure if he should admit what he was about to next but decided, in the end, that it was better out than in. “Although you might have to do the crushing for me. Normally I can deal with the sacrifice of life in Potions when we’re doing something like brewing an essential potion however…”

Tobi shrugged. It was quite honestly probably the longest sentence he had ever uttered in the presence of someone who wasn’t a family member or Aiden, but there was just something about his desk partner that made him want to talk. He didn’t know what it was, but something in their aura glowed and called out to him and he didn’t think he had ever met a more beautiful person in his life. “It seems like a waste of life just to get rid of something that’s natural…” He had kept his eyes focused forward as he said this before lifting his dark eyes to her blue ones and he blushed slightly, the rosy colour only slightly tinting his tanned cheeks.

Suddenly he was taken back to that awful, awful dream that he’d had that had caused him to hide under his covers until his roommates had left him so he could take a cold shower and try to forget already. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t unsee her pale skin pressed against his tanned skin, her perfectly soft (or so he imagined them to be) lips against the calloused palms of his working hands, his hands going through her gloriously red hair… And just like that he tore his gaze away from her and began to count the dragon thoraxes out onto the table.

They were different sorts of purebloods anyway. He had a halfblood cousin (who he loved more than life itself) and his entire family were hardworking craftsmen. They were the people who made furniture for the likes of the Newells, they didn’t date people like the Newells. Maybe they could be friends, but that was it. And it killed Tobi to know that. He’d admired Makenzie from the beginning—indeed it was around the end of his third year, the beginning of his fourth year when his crush had developed from thinking she was simply pretty to admiring how sweet and kind she seemed to be. But he and his family would never have the Makenzies or Aracelis or Uzumes of the world, that he was sure of and so it was best to keep at a distance.

10 Tobias Reinhardt, Teppenpaw Will I? [Tag: Tobi's crush] 289 Tobias Reinhardt, Teppenpaw 0 5

Makenzie Newell

June 09, 2016 12:22 AM

That appears to be me. by Makenzie Newell

Makenzie had a strange relationship with Potions class. On one hand, it felt un-ladylike because of how much of it involved touching weird or gross items. Yet for whatever reason, there always seemed to be a lot of society’s favored women who brewed. Even Professor O’Malley was from a decent family and had married into an even better one. Makenzie thought a portion of this might have been because brewing potions was less physically demanding than, for example, Defense Against the Dark Arts could be, what with the power-driven nature of dueling and defending. Potions was quiet and individualized, save for partnering in class. But because of this conflict, she was never really sure if she was supposed to like the class or not, so she generally did her best not to express any sentiment one way or the other.

She arrived slightly later than usual--still with a solid couple minutes before she would have been considered tardy, but her routine was definitively off--and slid into the first available seat she saw, without the luxury of picking a spot based on its neighbor. But Tobias Reinhardt was fine to sit by. She hadn’t spoken to him much, part of which was because he didn’t seem like a very chatty person. Not that a quiet disposition bothered Makenzie much; after all, her best friend had literally never spoken to her when she decided that this girl was hers forever).

To her surprise, though, Tobi seemed to have quite a bit to say today. The redhead found that she really enjoyed his speaking voice: deep but soft. And she liked the way he spoke, too. The nature of his statement. “That’s actually perfect,” Makenzie smiled at him. “I’ve got doxy eggs, but I’m out of dragonfly thoraxes. And I can do the crushing, no problem,” she added almost as an afterthought.

Their eyes caught for a moment before Tobi broke away. Was that the hint of a blush? She couldn’t tell and thought maybe it was just a trick of the lights. He was pretty tan, so it made detecting any other pigmentation a bit more difficult. Makenzie started crushing the dragonfly thoraxes quietly, focusing on her work for a moment before turning back to him. Tobi seemed lost in thought, and while she hated to break him from it if it was important, the look in his eye was a bit worrying. “I, um, I think that’s a very sweet sentiment, by the way,” she stated softly, sending an encouraging look his way. If he was maybe working his way out of his shell, Makenzie wanted to help out as much as possible.

“Okay, these are crushed,” she stated a moment later, glancing down at her handiwork. “Do you want to combine them and the doxy eggs?”

12 Makenzie Newell That appears to be me. 291 Makenzie Newell 0 5

John Spencer, Aladren

June 09, 2016 2:25 PM

I'm thankful already. by John Spencer, Aladren

This morning Jack had woken up to the most horrendously offensive reflection he’d ever seen in the mirror. He spent half an hour attempting to spread out his fringe across his forehead to cover one atrocity up and wrote his sister in England to send him some concealment cream. There was another one on his nose, but Jack knew there was no way to hide that one till Charlotte sent help. Jack cringed into his hands and groaned. If anyone wondered why Jack was so grumpy this morning, one could clearly see it on his face. Jack swore his pimples were beginning to appear larger and larger as if they were trying to outdo the other. It was completely ridiculous that the school didn’t teach them concealment charms as third years to prepare for this sort of outbreak.

Part of him wanted to hide his face -- how nice it would be if it were socially acceptable to wear a mask on these days! -- but he knew it would only make him look silly. Besides, this was normal, wasn’t it? Knowing that didn’t make him feel any better.

Jack was thankful for his longer fringe that covered the enormous pimple on his forehead, but there was still the one on his nose. As soon as he sat down in Potions, he propped up his large textbook and hid the bottom half of his face so only his eyes peeked out at the professor. His nose was literally in a book today. Jack did relatively well in Potions class. He enjoyed brewing potions and liked how meticulous he needed to be for every potion. However, it wasn’t as entertaining or as interesting as wandwork. He looked around the classroom for any indication of what they would be doing today, but he found nothing. He smoothed his brown hair down on his forehead, feeling the offensive bump as he ran his fingers down. At the very least he was safe. Jack bet his peers could see right through him, and it made him want to disappear into his chair.

Professor O’Malley finally began class and Jack thanked his stars that they were brewing an Acne Potion today. He had to lean forward and move his body to pass his homework to the front along with everyone else, but he quickly ducked his head back behind his shield afterwards. The professor, of course, had to mention no one needed their textbooks today, but Jack stubbornly kept his up. It was clear, he was sure, to everyone that he wasn’t looking through it anyway.

Once O’Malley finished her lecture, Jack shut his book and whipped out his collapsible cauldron and ingredients. His heart was pounding a little harder as he set the fire underneath. Failure was not an option with this potion; he absolutely needed it by the end of class.

In his rush, he knocked someone’s elbow. “Merlin, I’m sorry,” he said, looking at them head-on. He remembered then that he was trying not to look at people in the eye lest he saw their reaction to the abominations marring his usually smooth, pale skin. “Did I knock any ingredients out of your hand? You can use some of mine if I did. I really need this potion done right today.” Jack knew he’d said too much and turned a little pink as he worked on crushing the three dragonfly thoraxes.

40 John Spencer, Aladren I'm thankful already. 299 John Spencer, Aladren 0 5

Ginger Pierce, Teppenpaw

June 09, 2016 9:42 PM

Dream on (tag Diana Carey) by Ginger Pierce, Teppenpaw

Ginger sat bolt upright in her bed, eyes wide, heart pounding. She'd had a nightmare. She couldn't recall most of the details, but it had been quite terrible, she was sure of that. Something about Jake, and a potion, and . . . a dead body. Yes. A dead body. Ginger shuddered and hoped she would forget the whole thing by breakfast.

It mostly worked. She still experienced moments of feeling a bit jumpy and anxious for no reason every now and then, but she got through most of her classes of the day without incident, and by the time potions rolled around at the end of the day, she'd pretty much put it behind her.

Well, she had, up until she turned to her neighbor to ask if she wanted to be partners, and saw that it was Diana Carey. Ginger liked Diana Carey. They had been in the same challenge group last year and Ginger knew she was friends with Jake, too, so she kind of considered the older girl a second-tier friend. Certainly not as close to Ginger as, say, Jemima, Lauren, and Jake, but certainly somebody she would be happy to partner during potions.

That is, until she had a flashback to her dream and remembered it more clearly than she had at any time since she woke up that the dead body had been Diana's and Ginger had killed her. There had been fury and jealousy and a potion that had dropped inhibitions and Diana had been dead and it was all Ginger's fault.

Ginger sat there, mouth open, as she'd been about to ask to be partners, and just stared at the Pecari in shocked horror as the dream's memory surfaced. Blood drained from her face, leaving it pale. Her hands began to shake.

And then Ginger began to cry and she threw her arms around Diana and sobbed, "I'm so glad you're not dead!"

1 Ginger Pierce, Teppenpaw Dream on (tag Diana Carey) 302 Ginger Pierce, Teppenpaw 0 5

Diana Carey, Pecari

June 12, 2016 5:21 PM

I really hope a dream isn't a wish your heart makes by Diana Carey, Pecari

Potions began completely normally. Diana came in, spotted a seat, and said hi to a few people on her way to it. She took out her book and potions kit and a band to put back her long hair with, since hair falling into a potion could lead to disaster, or at least to a failing grade for the day. Things started going a little off the usual script when Professor O’Malley told them they didn’t need their books, but that wasn’t enough of a change for Diana to even remember later. When they were given the okay to get started, she looked at her neighbor and was happy to see Ginger Pierce there…for about five seconds. Then everything started going off the rails.

She noticed that Ginger looked pale and frowned a little, concerned. “Ginger?” Diana asked. “Are you okay? Do you need to go lie down?”

There were a lot of ways Ginger could have answered that question which Diana would have considered normal. Bursting into tears and throwing her arms around Diana wasn’t one of them. Diana patted her on the back gingerly, wondering why everyone she knew had suddenly decided that hugging her for no reason and with no warning was a good idea this year, until she processed what Ginger had said and pulled back a little to study the younger witch. For a moment, she was a little afraid that Ginger might have lost her mind.

“Well, me, too, honey,” she said, stroking Ginger’s hair. “And I’m glad you’re not, either, but…I didn’t really think you would be today,” she admitted. “Is…um, is there some reason you thought I might be?” she asked, now a little worried about herself, too. Diana couldn’t imagine why anyone would bother trying to kill her specifically, but she hadn’t seen a newspaper today…but what could have happened at home that nobody could make contact with her before the news spread to the California Pierces, though? She thought she might have to go back to her original idea, which was that Ginger was losing her mind.

0 Diana Carey, Pecari I really hope a dream isn't a wish your heart makes 0 Diana Carey, Pecari 0 5

Ginger

June 15, 2016 10:56 AM

Me too by Ginger

Diana was warm, and real, and breathing. Diana's hand awkwardly patted her back, and that was reassuring, too. Diana pulled away slightly, but that was okay, because Ginger was starting to realize that hugging wasn't a level their friendship had reached yet and must seem really weird to Diana.

Ginger's breathing was still hitching irregularly, but she wiped at the tear tracks on her face and was already starting feel better. A little ridiculous and embarrassed, granted, but better.

Not unsurprisingly, Diana seemed concerned.

"Sorry," she apologized, flushing slightly. "I had a bad dream last night. I just remembered it. You . . ." her chin wobbled, her breath caught in her throat, and tear pooled in her eyes again, but she held herself together and didn't start sobbing again. "You didn't fare well in it," she finished after she was able to swallow down her choked breath and talk again.

Then, realizing to her horror that she was acing her Divinations lessons and that might imply more weight to her dreams other people's random dreams, she hurried to assure her friend, "It wasn't prophetic, I'm sure! It was just startling, and I didn't remember it until just now! My line isn't the one with True Sight!"

The California Pierces might be mixed and mongrelized to the point where 'squib' and 'muggle' were hard to distinguish, but real divination talent ran through Jediah Pierce's descendants. Ginger, however, was born to the line that descended from his sister, Regina. Like all CA Pierces, she could read a tarot deck and gaze convincingly into a crystal ball, but dream visions were not a curse she bore, thankfully.

The panic that she might have scared Diana went a long way to dispelling her dream induced grief and horror, so she was now able to take one more deep shuddering breath, shake herself free of mental cobweb and Diana's reassuring hold, and try to focus back on reality, which right now, was potions class.

"Um, I've forgotten; what are we brewing again?" She looked at her notes, and it seemed like a lot longer than just a few minutes since she'd written down the instructions for the acne potion. "Is it me or does acne relief seem kind of anti-climatic now?" She fished out a tissue, wiped her damp cheeks and eyes, then blew her nose.

1 Ginger Me too 302 Ginger 0 5

Diana

June 16, 2016 11:08 PM

If it is, though, I'm haunting you by Diana

Diana’s first reaction to Ginger’s confession was confusion, followed by relief – at least her entire family wasn’t dead, in prison, or locked in pitched battles with people trying to make them all either one or the other of the first two options – and then surprise. Ginger dreaming about her at all, at least in more than passing, was enough for surprise, but she really wouldn’t have expected the younger girl to be this affected by her actual death, never mind just a dream about it.

Ginger, though, was one of the sweetest-seeming people Diana had ever met, either a person who was genuinely destined to have nothing but bad things happen to her as long as she lived or one of the best liars Diana had ever met. Diana thought it was most likely nearly impossible not to like her, as Diana didn’t care much one way or the other about most people and even she liked Ginger. Ginger was the kind of girl who’d burst into hysterical sobs if anyone in the school died, even someone she’d never spoken to or who had even been, if that was possible, mean to her. There was really no reason to think there should be a reason why her death would upset Ginger so much.

The idea that Ginger’s dreams could be prophetic hadn’t occurred to her as she kept making soothing noises, but she was relieved – a feeling which she thought meant she had most likely just had more strong feelings in the space of two minutes than she normally had in an entire day – to hear that Ginger did not come from whichever line – Diana assumed of Pierces; their family was as bad as hers, she thought – had the True Sight. “See? We’re all just fine, then,” she said consolingly.

Ginger pulled herself together. Diana laughed at the remark about acne relief. “A little bit, yes,” she agreed. “I do think we should still work on it, though. We are both far too pretty to let anything hurt our faces. We’d be doing a disservice to the male species.”

0 Diana If it is, though, I'm haunting you 0 Diana 0 5

Ginger

June 17, 2016 8:34 PM

That seems only fair. by Ginger

Ginger smiled back - perhaps still a bit wet around the eyes, but getting better - at Diana as the older girl assured her all was well. Of course, Ginger hadn't mentioned some of the key points of the dream, but that was all it was. Just a dream. A terrible, horrible, no-good dream.

"Right," Ginger agreed, ready to put it all behind her and get to work making the acne relief potion, anti-climatic or not. A genuine laugh was startled out of her by Diana's assertion that doing otherwise would be a disservice to the boys in the school. "Far too pretty," she agreed readily, then took one last deep breath that she hoped would be the end of her emotional outburst.

To that end, she checked the ingredient list and began rooting through her potion ingredient kit - all organically grown and responsibly harvested - to find out how much flobberworm mucus she had (and if that wasn't disgusting enough to break a girl out of a funk, she didn't know what was). "Yeech," she said, pulling out the appropriate vial. Sure enough, it was down to the last couple of spoonfuls. "I've got some flobberworm mucus, but probably not enough. It looks like this stuff is the main ingredient." At the very least least, it was mentioned three times in the recipe so it was probably an important active ingredient, and shouldn't be skimped on. "How's your supply? Or should I get some more from up front?"

1 Ginger That seems only fair. 302 Ginger 0 5

John Umland, Aladren

June 23, 2016 4:07 PM

I'm hormonal, extremely irritating, and just kind of...here. by John Umland, Aladren

It was, as far as complaints went, a fairly minor thing, but the way Professor O’Malley talked sometimes – as though she were still a teenager herself; John wasn’t a fan of The Way Young People Were Supposed To Talk anyway, but it just sounded stupid coming from an adult – grated on John’s nerves. It grated on his nerves more forcefully than usual, though, when she used said irritating speech pattern to issue a statement which utilized wrong reasoning for a correct action and which implied she possessed at least one of several highly undesirable traits. Passing the papers forward was more efficient, which was even more important in Potions than most classes, but that wasn’t what she’d said. Instead, she’d implied that she was lazy, didn’t consider them worth her time, or both.

He reminded himself that even if there had been a real point to doing so, it was still a sin to even think about adding a bit of commentary on some of his feelings to the bottom of his homework sheet out of spite before he passed it to the person in front of him and turned around to take a paper from the person behind him. He’d taken front-row seats sometimes in the past two years so he could work with Clark, but had gone back to seeking out seats he found more comfortable now that his friend was no longer present. His mom was the only major exception to a certain distaste John had for adults looking straight at him. Adults, or at least some of the ones in his neighborhood when he was younger, had a certain tendency to notice when he didn’t like them and punish him for not doing so even if he complied with their actual orders without complaint. They often seemed puzzled when his response to this never involved beginning to like them better, which had often puzzled him until one of his friends at home had explained to him that they didn’t actually care what his true opinions were and just wanted a smiling show of adoration and admiration to make them feel better about themselves. This was idiotic for so many reasons that John doubted he could list them all, but evidence, at least in his current mood, did support the idea that most people were idiots.

If he ran the world, everyone would have a proper education and would know that decisions could only be made based on facts and evidence, not feelings. Feelings were irrelevant to most questions more serious than what to eat for lunch. He felt unhappy right now – actually, he’d felt at least some degree of angry at nothing in particular all day; he suspected the pituitary gland was to blame and that only annoyed him further – but Professor O’Malley would probably be one of the first to tell him that his unhappiness was irrelevant if he suggested taking or not taking a particular course of action because of it and would probably put him in detention if he then asked the logical question, which was why her feelings about how to run class were relevant when his were not. The fact she had created the potion they were making meant he had to respect her abilities as a potioneer, but she didn’t know how to think.

He got some relief from his desire to do something foolish, at least, when she mercifully uttered the words I’ll shut up now. The sound of her voice was, after all, what had taken him from general grumpiness toward the whole world to a specific desire to yell at her to do exactly that, so hopefully, that sound’s absence would allow him to concentrate. He took off his watch, put on his gloves, and opened his potions kit.

Dragonfly thoraxes were the first items on the list for this potion. He remembered both a letter Julian had written him years ago, the one that had accidentally led to him taking a specific interest in birds, and the first experiment he and Clark had done together in this very room. Well, that was getting off to a better start than he had expected. His aggravation level decreasing already, he ignored Ginger Pierce hugging Diana Carey after only a single, confused glance in their direction (prefects were supposed to address strange behavior, but even had he suspected his intervention would have been welcomed, there were prefects from their Houses and an actual adult in the room, too, which made them not his problem) and used his tweezers to remove three Canada Darner thoraxes without crushing them. After putting them in the mortar, he made a note in his notebook to repeat the potion later with thoraxes from the other species he had collected, some on his own and some from a somewhat puzzled apothecary in Edmonton. Canada Darners made reasonably good potions, he thought, as they made up the bulk of what he had, but he could always use more data on the results of using pure samples in the same potion.

Dragonfly thoraxes and doxy eggs were both components of the Girding Potion, now that he thought about it. That increased endurance. This cured a skin condition. He looked at the rest. Fire seeds…heat, that could perhaps have an antibacterial or wound-closing function. Flobberworm mucus was primarily just a thickening agent, that was to make it topical, he assumed, but the specific interaction of dragonfly thorax and doxy egg, and the ratios involved…he seriously needed some mice to play with. He picked up his pestle to begin grinding the thoraxes, but something – Jack Spencer, as it happened – jostled his elbow.

“No worries,” he said mildly as the younger Aladren babbled apologies. “If you just want to donate to my thorax collection I won’t say no,” he added, “since I’m relatively sure I don’t have any from where you’re from, but the ones I have were already in the mortar, see?” he pointed. “No harm done. Relax.”

OOC: The author apologies for John’s undue aggressiveness in the beginning, Sophie, and reiterates that his views are not necessarily those of the author or any of the author’s affiliates.

16 John Umland, Aladren I'm hormonal, extremely irritating, and just kind of...here. 285 John Umland, Aladren 0 5