Professor Marlowe
February 11, 2006 11:10 PM
Lesson One, First Years by Professor Marlowe
Well, Lina, this is it, she thought as the bell rang, beginning the class, and she looked around the assembled first years. Merlin, they looked small. Her two eldest nieces, Christine and Ophelia, were ten and nine, and they looked considerably bigger in memory than any of these eleven-year-olds. It was probably a question of familiarity. They'd start looking more in-proportion when she was used to them. With that in mind, she gave the class a brief, businesslike smile and began the opening statements she had spent most of the previous night preparing."Good morning," she said, long since past noticing any but the most drastic reactions to an accent that was half Boston and half Britain. "I am Professor Marlowe, and, as should be apparent, your instructor in the field of Transfiguration." Using her wand as a pointer, she indicated the name written to the left of the board behind her. She'd never manage Tabitha Newton's easygoing charm, but she had never aspired to be her old Arithmancy teacher. "This isn't a subject to be taken lightly. The smallest error has the potential to cause large amounts of damage." She rounded the desk to face them more directly. "I would advise you to discard anything you think you already know about this subject now. I can tell you from experience that it'll save you time and effort." Enough in that vein. It was time to move on to the lesson.
"Today's spell is a relatively simple one involving objects similar in size and, though less closely, appearance. You'll each be issued a match - I've charmed them not to ignite, so be kind enough to not try to set my room on fire - and will attempt to Transfigure it into a needle." She tried not to remember the day she had been taught this particular spell and had been scolded by the teacher, one Professor Writworth, when she argued that a needle looked absolutely nothing like a match. "The incantation for this is Myxanti Nere. Watch, please." She lifted a match from the small box of them resting on her desk and held it up for their inspection, then pointed her wand directly at it. As she pronounced the incantation, she moved her wand in a straight downward diagonal motion finished with a flick that returned it to the original position. She didn't attempt to deny being internally relieved when it worked correctly. Having a beginner's spell go wrong because of nerves would be the exact opposite of the start she hoped to make.
"Focus and precision of pronunciation and wand movement are essential to success with this spell," she told the class, carefully placing the needle beside the container holding the matches. "Your instructions are written to the right of the board, as I'm sure some of you have noticed. I'd strongly advise copying them into your notes for future reference. We'll practice the wand movement and then the pronunciation of the spell before you attempt the Transfiguration." A few minutes later, everyone seemed to have gotten first the motion and then the spell, each performed without the other to prevent any accidents, and she deemed it safe to send out the matches.
"Try not to become impatient if the spell doesn't come easily at first," she said, making her tone a little softer than it had been. Newton had always done that, and it was effective in causing fractional lowering of anxiety levels in most cases. Selina's had never been one such case - she had been known as a perfectionist and all-around geek by midterm of her first year - but others had said that it worked. "Don't hesitate to ask for help if you need it. You may begin." \n\n
Subthreads: trying it out by Saul Pierce with Melanie Rose, Eduard Grimaud, Morgaine Carey
So much for beginner's luck. by Lila Gringe with Allie St.Martin, The St.Martins, Professor Marlowe
Exausted and full of self -hatred. by Adam Brockert with Ginger Silverstein
Mixanti Near? by Rob Stone with Geoffrey Spindler
I'm walking on pins and needles, pals... by Geoffrey Layne
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Professor Marlowe
Lesson One, First Years
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Eduard Grimaud
February 21, 2006 4:51 AM
Care I for a Carey? by Eduard Grimaud
The trick had worked, although he now had a few nail marks in his arms. Despite her obvious breeding, she was a vicious little girl. She was as equally surprised as he was that the match had transfigured. Maybe it was just sheer determination to annoy the girl. Jealously, she started sniping about how her father was a Carey. So what?When she so innocently knocked over her ink well, Grim was at the end of his rope. He vowed that he would only sit next to Saul, seeing the girls all seemed to get upset over the littlest things. He didn't want to leave her with the last word and a smug sense of satisfaction. When she harped on about the quality of her family, he knew that two could play at that game.
'Girl, you don't even know who you are dealing with. I am Eduard Grimaud, descendant of a long line of Merovingian kings. My father is Gustave Grimaud. A very famous pianist in muggle and wizarding circles alike. My mother, Aurelie, is the French ambassador to Canada. For dinner, we have the heads of wizarding states everywhere. People fight to be invited to our parties. And you think being a Carey makes you special?'
He was in full flow of his tirade now. He continued, 'And maybe the reason I haven't heard about your family, is because I mix in wizarding circles higher than you'll ever reach.' He said this so quietly, that only she could hear. He hoped she knocked over her inkwell again.
He had heard vaguely of their family. Of course they weren't as low as he played them. But Grim didn't want to give any points to this girl, who had pulled his arm, then left nail marks in it.
\n\n
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Eduard Grimaud
Care I for a Carey?
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Morgaine Carey
February 24, 2006 6:10 PM
You'd better start... by Morgaine Carey
He. Did. Not. He did not just address her as girl, not to her face. She could put up with that from her father and other male relatives, because they had it within their power to make her life more miserable than she cared to imagine, but this boy didn't. He didn't improve the case for himself when he insulted her family by flaunting his. Diplomats were only diplomats because they didn't have what it took to hold positions in a more decisive fashion than words, a pianist was non-threatening enough before it was revealed that said pianist was a Muggle-lover, and the fact that wizards didn't have kings made Eduard either part-Muggle or delusional enough to want to be.It didn't take a genius to interpret her expression as that of one thoroughly unimpressed.
"I don't think you know who you're dealing with, boy," she said quietly, no longer snapping or even sounding angry. The part of her that came directly from her father wanted to make things real simple and give Grimaud what he had coming to him, but something coldly logical from Merlin-alone-knew-where knew it would be a waste of time unless she was suicidal, somewhere between the fact that she had yet to see five feet tall, the fact she didn't know the first thing about fighting, and she strongly suspected a second disappointing daughter might well drive her father over the edge. "I am, as I've already told you, Morgaine Carey. My family goes back under that name for centuries, and they've been purebloods every step of the way. I wouldn't expect you to know that, though, since you obviously can't say the same and claim to be foreign anyway." She said the word foreign the way Aunt Sarah might say the word fat.
"And yes, being a Carey does make me special. It makes me part of something you'd never be able to get into even if you had the brains to want to. You don't think I'm dense enough to think decent people are the ones fighting to attend your tea parties, do you? I'm not stupid, Eddie. The only reason you associate with people that ill-bred is because you don't have the blood to attract anyone else."
Eduard wasn't the only one with the ability to get on a rool. Her voice was rising sharply as she continued. It was the last, quietest insult that had cut the most. "My family is better than yours will ever be. My family doesn't need a flock of adoring tagalongs to know where we stand. My family is the one in real society, Eddie, not your little ambassador maman and keyboard-pounding papa. Is it that hard for you to accept that I'm better than you, Eddie? Is it?" Suddenly, she realized she was treading on thin ice, both with Eddie and Marlowe, and that the strength of her convictions might not be enough to keep her afloat. \n\n
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Morgaine Carey
You'd better start...
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Marlowe
February 24, 2006 6:49 PM
Enough! by Marlowe
Selina had been watching the dispute between the two Pecaris since the boy's claim that the girl was trying to hold his hand called her attention to them, initially hoping they'd just shut up and carry on by themselves. Transfiguration was a sufficiently stressful subject to sometimes cause breaks in concentration, after all, and it was either the first or very close to the first time any of them had attempted such things. It was impossible to make out everything that was said, but the overall gist of it didn't seem friendly. Not that it was too surprising, given who the girl claimed to be. From what she'd heard of the family, few of them were known for their graciousness or endearing personalities. She tried to avoid too much study of the pureblood families on either side of the Atlantic, but having a general idea of them was the unavoidable consequence of being Richard Marlowe's favoured firstborn.The backwards-and-forwardsing of the two was not a situation she cared to step into, but they were disrupting the other students. If they didn't end it, and end it now, she was going to have to intervene. The necessity became more obvious when Miss Carey's ink so conveniently spilled, and became unavoidable when she heard the steady rise of the girl's voice as she carried on about her family. Purebloods! How they lived with themselves was beyond her, and she was related to quite a few of them.
"That," she said crisply upon reaching the two's seats, "will be enough. From both of you," she added, lest the boy - Grimaud, she thought he'd said - think he was in the clear. She noted resignedly that she sounded more British than anything at the moment, and would therefore no doubt be delegated to the 'foreigner' category Miss Carey seemed to hold in such low regard. "You would both do well to be reminded that this is a classroom, not a political arena or a gala. I couldn't care less about your parents and their professions, and I'm sure I speak for the rest of the class as well.
"I would suggest that - " she cut off as a sudden flash of light, followed by something like a scream, caught her attention. It would be just her luck for someone to have turned his neighbor into a...the exclamations weren't needed to identify the problem. Selina liked to think of herself as fairly intelligent, and most adults, intelligent or not, could recognize a fire when they saw one. "Stay there!" she barked at the two first years, and began heading towards the Crotalus with the flaming robes.
OOC: continued at Miss Gringe's post. \n\n
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Marlowe
Enough!
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Morgaine Carey
March 04, 2006 8:41 PM
Says who? by Morgaine Carey
Morgaine jumped visibly when Marlowe's voice, sounding more foreign than ever, spoke up behind her. Merlin, she was so many different kinds of dead. Father was going to kill her if Gwen didn't do it first. They were both high-wired maniacs obsessed with the family, and she'd seen both do some pretty stupid things when they felt someone wasn't giving the family its due, stupider even than her screaming at Eddie in a crowded classroom. Yep, she was dead. The only question was if it was literally or not, and if not, if she would end up wanting it to be. Careys didn't play nice, even with their own. Especially with their own.She opened her mouth, hoping to explain, but Marlowe was still talking, and before the British professor could finish what she was saying, a commotion from further over announced the presence of, if she was any good at recognizing voices and mannerisms, the St.Martin twins, Lila setting up an almighty fuss because her robes were on fire. Probably Allie's doing; the elder twin was notoriously bad at, well, everything. Marlowe shouted at her and Eddie to stay where they were, as if there was anywhere they could go where she wouldn't be able to punish them, and started heading for the scene while Morgaine watched dispassionately and Lila began screaming at her sister.
She didn't speak to Eddie, and ignored any attempt on his or anyone else's part to speak. This could be fixed, maybe, if she could keep her mouth under control and her brain working. She might even be able to sink Eddie, with a little luck. Morgaine had always believed in luck, good and bad. Fate had simply decided she should have more of the latter, until recently. Things had been going well until she came to Sonora. They'd go well here, if she could just keep her mouth shut. She crossed her arms defensively across her chest as Marlowe headed back in her direction, waiting. \n\n
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Morgaine Carey
Says who?
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Professor Marlowe
March 04, 2006 8:57 PM
Says <i>me</i>, Miss Carey. by Professor Marlowe
Selina looked at the two Pecari first years, torn between anger for their part in trying to ruin her first class and tiredness stemming from the come-down following the incident with the Miss St.Martins and the fire. Miss Carey had her arms folded belligerently, and Mr. Grimaud was being quiet. Her mouth thinned a little. Inter-House rivalry she could understand, but in-House rivalry was another thing altogether. She knew that being in the same House was no guarantee that two people were going to like each other, but she had heard of only a few cases where Housemates were outright enemies. Her head was starting to hurt.What was the best way to deal with them? She could make it short and simple and give them detention, but it seemed a little excessive to give detention for insults when she'd just told Miss St.Martin to study theory in answer to the silly girl setting her sister on fire. It had been accidental - she seriously doubted Miss St.Martin had been lying, the concerned act was too good for that - but some of the class might not register that, or might think the accident had occurred because Miss St.Martin subconsciously wanted to hurt her twin. She sighed and resisted the temptation to put a hand to her temple. Merlin, her head was starting to get worse fast. It always knew how to increase her desire to stop doing a stressful activity.
"I'm sure you two will be delighted to hear that I'm not giving you detention," she said, keeping her tone as it had been before the second incident came up. "However, if either of you exhibit this kind of behaviour in my classroom again, you'll be spending quite a few quality evenings with me and my cat, making up the lessons I will not allow you to attend. I won't have tomfoolery in this class, from you two or anyone." Having done her teacherly duty, she made her way back to her desk, scanning the room for more signs of trouble. She might not have a job after Miss St.Martin's accident, but she wasn't going to let the class disintegrate while it was hers. Joining the girls in the infirmary for a headache cure was sounding like more and more of a good idea. \n\n
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Says <i>me</i>, Miss Carey.
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