Professor Skies
June 09, 2014 12:18 AM
Intermediates - follow the butterflies by Professor Skies
“Today, we will be turning brooches into butterflies or vice versa,” Selina scanned her class for any signs of squeamishness or rebellion. She knew Aria had taken over some classes during the staff's absence last year, but hoped that she'd had the good sense to avoid Transfiguration above beginner level, as she wasn't exactly compatible with the subject matter. The last thing Selina needed was for her to have instilled her nonsense and a sense of rebellion into the impressionable younger students.“Popular modern theory holds that all Transfiguration is a form of vanishing and conjuring. That is, rather than turning a brooch into a butterfly, you are pushing the brooch away, out of this dimension, to wherever it is that vanished things go, and pulling a butterfly out. Having objects to exchange makes it easier to bridge the gap. Therefore, you can dispel any worries you have about destroying a living creature – you are merely displacing it. If you only get half-way, it can start to look a little messy. The main thing is not to panic. Merely undo the spell and start over. Remember, I said it's a bridge. Whilst the spell is incomplete, that link to wherever you're drawing the butterfly from is still open. It is still, or can still, reconnect to the rest of itself. You should already be familiar with these ideas from the reading for this class, and your homework will be to summarise them in your own words.
“The spell to create butterflies is Lepidopteria, with a nice long 'ter',” This might have been familiar to some students. She often used butterflies as a stepping stone. When the class began to work with animate creatures, they started out with bugs and other invertebrates. The biggest problem there was people being creeped out by them. When they moved onto vertebrates though, people's feelings for the soft fluffy animals started to be more of an issue. Butterflies were a good way to get them used to the fact that sometimes Transfiguration required them to cast magic on pretty things too.
“This requires a delicate wand motion, in a short downward stroke. Be sure to make it as light as possible. Like so, Lepidopteria,” she cast. A paper that had been lying on the desk folded itself up, shrinking as it did so, before bursting out as a little blue butterfly. Professor Skies cancelled the spell and the sheet fell neatly back onto her desk.
“The spell for creating the brooch is Brocchus. Remember, if you want to take this assignment but continue to stretch and challenge yourselves, the ornamentation of the brooch – and how far it differs from the shape and pattern of the butterfly – is a good way to do this. It requires a tight, circular wand movement that encapsulates your butterfly. You will either have to be very swift, or use a slight stunning spell to keep it still.” She demonstrated the spell, holding up a neat spray of twig-like silver with little leaf-shaped amber drops at the ends.
“Please come and collect either a butterfly or a brooch and begin your work.” The butterflies were at the front of the room in little boxes. The lids appeared open, in order for the students to be able to get a line of fire with their wands, but,whenever the butterflies got near the point of escape, they seemed to come up against something, and would flit back down and around their containers.
OOC – the usual rules apply. Points will be awarded for length, creativity, realism and relevance. Tag Professor Skies if you need her. No maimings, please.
Subthreads: The natural order of things by Effie Arbon, Crotalus with Amity Brockert, Aladren
Creating something fabulous by Charlie B-F-R with Julian Umland, Teppenpaw
Pretty colours. by Rupert Princeton, Pecari
Colours other than orange... by Ji-Eun Park
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Professor Skies
Intermediates - follow the butterflies
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Professor Skies
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Effie Arbon, Crotalus
June 09, 2014 12:48 AM
The natural order of things by Effie Arbon, Crotalus
There were certain elements of being a witch and being a lady which, in some people's minds, were not readily compatible. Handling bats eyes without batting an eyelid, for example. Generally making and drinking potions, for that matter, involved all sorts of unsavoury bits and pieces of all kinds of animals. And, come the more serious study of Transfiguration, one was expected to turn one's wand on all manner of appealing creatures without whimpering or getting teary eyed over it. To Effie, it presented no such contradiction. Being a proper Pureblood lady meant upholding the traditions of wizardkind. Nothing more, nothing less. Yes, one side of that was the refined skills of a sociable young lady, in order to attract a suitable husband and produce pure progeny. But it also meant being a good witch, and good witches did not balk at common potions ingredients or using magic on animals.She settled into her seat in Transfiguration, listening with interest to Professor Skies lecture. She remembered the lepidopteria spell coming up in her third year, though she had not been at a level to use it then, and had done the simpler task of turning a butterfly into a leaf. It was strange to think she was now one of the senior students in the class. One of the more senior in the school, in fact, given that she was a prefect. It really didn't seem that long ago that she'd been amongst the little ones in this class, doing the simpler tasks.
When they were set to work, she went and collected a brooch from the front. It was a thin, gold-coloured one in the shape of a bow, set with small, sparkling crystals along its legnth. It was a little unrefined for Effie's taste and she had no compunctions about turning such an ugly piece of jewellery into a much more beautiful butterfly. She collected one of the ever-available nature books and settled back at her desk, flicking through the pages of butterflies. Her eyes flicked keenly over them. Effie enjoyed taking walks, observing the environment around her, and this pleasure showed in her face as she poured over the book. Eventually, she settled on a black butterfly with white stripes down its wings and little red and blue flecks around the edges. It was, the book informed her, a White Admiral. She chose it because it was familiar to her from her walks.
She turned her attention to the brooch. It had just struck her what a good shape it was for turning into a butterfly. The two loops and two tails of the bow mirrored the shape of butterfly wings. Or at least, the way children traditionally drew them. Comparing this mental image to her book, she saw that it was not quite so defined on the butterfly she had chosen. She was still pondering this when a voice attracted her attention.
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Effie Arbon, Crotalus
The natural order of things
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Charlie B-F-R
June 16, 2014 7:35 AM
Creating something fabulous by Charlie B-F-R
Charlie always enjoyed Christmas, and this year had been no exception. If anything, it had been slightly better than usual. Their parents had been so relieved to have them back that they had been barely let of out their sight. There had been a near constant supply of hot chocolate with marshmallows, family game nights and all of their favourites cooked for tea. Those were more or less par for the course over the holidays, but they were all done with added enthusiasm and hugs. It had been fairly hard on his parents over the previous term. They weren't exactly the kind of people Leonora Wolseithcrafte invited over for coffee mornings and to rally to one of her causes. They had written to some of the children's friends though, trying to find answers or at least reassurances that it wasn't only happening to them. And, even without being personally connected with Leonora, after her little group started hitting the headlines, at least everyone was better informed. Charlie knew their parents had been worried about them and that perhaps he shouldn't really have enjoyed all the extra fuss but... well, it was hard to help it. And, he reasoned, what had happened last term hadn't been his fault, so he didn't really have anything to feel guilty about.The events at Sonora had also led to several interesting family stories coming to light. Their cousin's class had once spent an entire week as Persian cats after some Transfiguration issues, and his father had once nearly fallen off the edge of his school when a whole floor decided it just didn't want to exist any more. Whilst neither of these incidents had been quite as serious or as stressful as those at Sonora during the previous turn (the parents of the cat cousin hadn't, in fact, found out about it until several months later), everyone understood that at magical schools, strange things just sometimes happened. In this case, it didn't even seem that the school was in the slightest bit implicated and so, although they had been sad, and perhaps a little reluctant to let them go, Charlie and Henny had been returned to school without undue concern or fuss on the matter.
Things were back to normal, and for once Charlie appreciated the steady, slightly dull routine. It definitely felt safer, and he didn't need to watch his back in case of Leo Princeton's antics any more. Well, not so much. He wasn't sure what the other boy might try when the teachers weren't looking. Still, he didn't have any particular reason to suspect Leo knew that Charlie had suspected, and even told on him. So, he relaxed back into the routine. Sure, he would still have rather been at home being fussed over, but you had to go to school. That was just how it was.
He took a seat in Transfiguration. This subject was a bit hit and miss for him. He enjoyed Charms, as it allowed for fun and flair, but when there was a strong design element to Transfiguration, the class really captured his imagination. He decided to take the simpler project mostly based on the fact that it sounded more enjoyable and, given his age and the disruption of last term, he still could get away with it. It perhaps wasn't the best motivation, or the most rigorously academic approach but there was a reason why he wasn't an Aladren. Anyway, Professor Skies was always telling them about how they could push themselves on any project by incorporating more design work, and no accessory designed by Charlie was going to be plain and simple.
He set to work with a fresh, sharp set of coloured pencils. They were proper artist's ones, in their own little tin and had been a gift for Christmas from Henny. Eastern influence was big in this season's jewellery collections, and so he drew a stunning sapphire-coloured stone in the shape of a tear drop, before experimenting with different surrounds such as diamanté or silver-coloured filigree (creating true precious metals and stones wasn't possible, of course, but if he could get it to look good enough, he would be happy. If it was a real range of accessories, he would have sourced the real materials instead of skimping in this way but, he had to remind himself, the main purpose here was to prove his Transfiguration skills, not create the perfect jewellery line). In the end, he settled for a combination; detailed silver filigree, supporting the occasional glimmering stone. He sat back smiling, satisfied with his design. Perhaps he let it take up more of class than he should, but it was a skill that he felt was worth developing and, if class gave him the chance to do that, all the better. Besides which, it would help with the practical stages of the work. True, for his CATS, he'd need to be able to do it on the spot and not get bogged down in this sort of thing, but that was over a year away. To Charlie, that was a very long time. Life was all about living in the moment.
He went to collect a butterfly. Having spent his time designing, there was a scant choice of specimens left. He picked up a large, brown butterfly. Well, that just added to his challenge, justifying his choice of level.
“Now,” he smiled at the creature, as he returned it to his desk, “to turn you into a masterpiece.” Even though he was talking to the butterfly, he evidently caught the attention of someone next to him as, before he could raise his wand, he heard them make a remark.
OOC – The part on precious metals isn't cannon, but made sense to me. The world wouldn't work very well if people could just effectively generate money using magic.
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Charlie B-F-R
Creating something fabulous
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Pretty colours. by Rupert Princeton, Pecari
Over the holiday Rup had been introduced to the coach of England's under-17 Quidditch team. Rupert's enthusiasm for the sport had not been lost on his father, and as an early Christmas present Corvus had taken his son to meet the Quidditch coach and the team. There were no promises made, of course--the coach hadn't even seen Rup play--, but if an opportunity arose for him to play Quidditch professionally and leave his schooling unfinished, Rup wasn't entirely certain which he would choose. His love for Quidditch and his desire to stay and finish his academic career conflicted, but as of now Rup had no reason to worry. The meeting had, however, made his dream seem all the more real.He was a bit out of practise after a lack of matches last term. There was still no permanent Quidditch coach at Sonora, but Rup hoped that wouldn't stop the season completely for the year. Quidditch was on his mind as he entered class as it had been for the past several weeks. He looked briefly for Wendy; if he caught her eye he would smile at her. He'd hardly had the time to think about her over the holiday, but Rup had decided that he did like her. Perhaps not enough to potentially destroy all of his family ties, but enough to want to spend more time with her. The picnic last term had been pleasant.
Turning away, he tried to focus on the lesson at hand. He was decent in Transfiguration, but last term had really hindered him and he had some catching up to do. He took meticulous notes, or at least listened closely to what Skies was saying. Theory always took Rup a bit of time to mull over and understand completely, and he scribbled down her words to go look up the modern Transfiguration theory later.
Once the lecture was finished, Rupert went to the desk to pick out a butterfly. A blue and gold one would make a lovely brooch, but the thought of maiming the poor thing was slightly horrifying. However, Rupert had more control over his magic than the younger years, or at least he should have by now, and didn't worry too much about it. He glanced briefly over at his younger brother, hoping Leo wouldn't muck it up. Rup would hate to clean up whatever mess he made, but he wouldn't shy away from it if he was needed.
Rup tried not to think about Quidditch, but it was surprisingly difficult. He nearly tripped into his seat as he sat back down, but gained his footing neatly, only sitting harder than he normally would have. Rupert looked intently at the poor, fluttering butterfly. If he'd been trapped in a box and shaken around a bit, Rup would have been disoriented too. "It'll make a nice brooch, don't you think?" he asked his neighbour, tilting the box so they could see his butterfly. "Have you tried the spell yet?"
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Rupert Princeton, Pecari
Pretty colours.
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Rupert Princeton, Pecari
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Julian Umland, Teppenpaw
June 25, 2014 2:35 PMJulian Umland, Teppenpaw
AlumnusHouse: Teppenpaw
Written by: Grayson Wright
Age in Post: 14
Birthday: December 12
I believe in you. by Julian Umland, Teppenpaw
Julian had, by and large, kept as close to normal routines as she could during the shut-in – it had helped her pretend it wasn’t happening sometimes and feel more sure that things even could go back to normal at others, both of which had been very valuable things to her way of thinking – but if there was a ‘class’ she had been tempted to just stop going to, it had been Transfiguration. Defense had become terrifying whenever she thought about how they might need to know how to defend themselves if they ever found out what was causing the clouds, CoMC a little dull under the circumstances, but at least they weren’t as theoretically challenging as the disclaimers could be in Transfiguration.Things transfigured are just moving in and out of where Vanished obgects go. Where is that? Half-in-half-out, but it looks like one peice to me?
She doodled a picture of an open door on the edge of her notes, wondering how literal the metaphor was. Was the other place – well – a place? How did everything get there? Maybe, over centuries of wizards doing Transfiguration, enough had gotten over for almost any change to happen if someone wanted it to and figured out the right words to say and had the power to put behind it, but how had it started, back in the dawn of Transfiguration?
The questions were forgotten after she wrote down the homework, though, because the main lesson began and she shifted her attention to that. Butterflies to broaches – pretty things. She wondered how the boys in the class would feel about that.
For her part, she was more concerned with which project would really be harder for her to pull off. Making a piece of jewelry come alive was hard, but she wasn’t sure she was quick enough with her wand for the other, and as for Stunning the butterfly…she wasn’t good enough at stunning to knock a person out, but nor did she feel at all sure she had the fine control she thought might be needed to avoid killing the butterfly. That would make it easier to Transfigure, she guessed, but it would sort of miss the point of the assignment….
Still, easier than the other, she guessed, so she went to get one of the little boxes. The butterfly was a pale, agreeable shade of yellow. She made several unsuccessful attempts at circling it with her wand, intending to create a plain gold brooch with her initials on it and a little loopy fancy-work for a border, before Charlie, in the next desk (one boy who would definitely not have a problem working with butterflies and jewelry) and busy with what looked like sketches, got a butterfly.
“Given up on doing that with me?” she teased. Clothes were, it seemed, like Latin and to a lesser extent English spelling in that they were subjects she would never get the hang of, which made it convenient, she guessed, to have a dark green robe over everything – currently a blue sweater and khaki skirt – most of the time. “She wasn’t kidding about it being hard to keep up with them,” she warned him. "How are your stunners? I'm not too sure I could do it without killing them."
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Julian Umland, Teppenpaw
I believe in you.
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Charlie B-F-R
June 28, 2014 3:44 AM
Aww, that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside by Charlie B-F-R
“Of course not, my treasure! Charlie exclaimed, when Julian asked whether he'd given up on fabulousifying her. Admittedly it was a task and a half. Mostly, he suspected, because she wasn't really interested. She seemed to tolerate his efforts and to humour him rather than having any real passion for the ideas, which was a shame. “I just think there's still some hope beyond turning you into jewellery. Though I might change my mind if I don't see this season's colours on you by the end of the week,” he added with a wink.“Hmm, that is a concern...” he pondered, as she asked about stunning the butterfly. The box, whilst it did give it some room to flutter around, was not huge. “I think I'll give it a few shots without. Even if I can just get a partial result, that might stop it flapping about. At least in this reality, or something,” he added with a slight frown (before remembering that frowning caused unsightly wrinkles and easing his expression back to neutral).
He practised drawing circles around his butterfly for a while, before deciding that that was diminishing rather than building his confident. He wasn't sure any of them could have been described as tight or neat, or even really circular. It was probably best to just give it a go.
“Brocchus,” he cast, tracing a very wiggly and ultimately ineffective path around (and occasionally across) his butterfly. A few more attempts yielded no more success.
“I wonder whether, if I keep still, it will eventually settle...” he pondered. He stood poised over the butterfly, watching it flap. Part of its constant movement was, no doubt, its frustrated attempts to escape, rather than anything to do with him flapping at it. Eventually though, it paused, tired for the moment in its efforts.
“Brocchus!” Charlie cast. It moved almost as soon as he did but he just about got a wide circle around it. At first he thought he'd been unsuccessful again, and was highly disheartened. But, as his butterfly flitted about, he saw its wings shimmering beautifully in the light. They were now silvery and sparkled around the edges. Its body also glimmered blue, like the stone at the centre of his design.
“Well, I made some progress. But not the kind that keeps it still,” he shrugged to Julian, “How about you?”
OOC
I assume that, by now, he'd have had a chance to ask her about the holidays. What would she have told him?
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Charlie B-F-R
Aww, that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside
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Julian
June 30, 2014 10:00 AM
Will that help you succeed in your mission? by Julian
Julian laughed at Charlie’s threats. “You’re going to have heart palpitations when you meet my brother next year,” she predicted. John usually actually did start the day dressed reasonably neatly, if plainly, but clothes seemed to wrinkle on contact with him somehow even before he dripped ink from pens and tea from over-full cups, failed to notice smudges on his elbows and knees from clambering around on the roof, and so on until he could easily end up in a total mess by supper. “Until then…gray and brown are winter colors, right?” Colors were awful to keep track of, and it was impossible for her to remember how they went together, but those seemed to be pretty reliable in recent years, especially gray. “And dressing like you’re in the Navy is coming back? I looked at some pictures while I was in the supermarket with Mom.”That had been the afternoon she and the younger boys had amused themselves seeing who could find the funniest greeting card and then read its contents with a straight face during a long shopping trip, she remembered. Normally, she hated going to the supermarket – it was freezing cold even in the dead of an already-freezing cold winter, and it was just sort of dull, walking up and down the aisles from one end of the store to the other, then usually back to the first end when someone remembered something they’d forgotten the first time, all the while moderating squabbles between her even more bored younger brothers – but even that was now cast in the curiously warm light all her memories of the part of the holiday after she met Sallie had acquired.
She had brought back lots of pictures, which she had spread out and shown Charlie when she got back to school: a thin tree drooping beneath the weight of all the mismatched ornaments the family had managed to collect in the two and a half decades since her parents started it with the neat set of golden bulbs Julian had decided needed more glitter and sequins when she was eight, silver balloons and a cake shaped, in honor of his recently-chosen major, like the staff of Asclepius at Stephen’s birthday party, a snowball fight which had gone on until her fingers were numb even through her gloves and she couldn’t feel her nose at all, two or three people’s abortive attempts to teach her to dance at her grandparents’ New Year’s party. Part of that trouble, no doubt, had been that she’d been wearing a navy blue dress with her one pair of high heeled shoes; one picture she hadn’t known was in the packet until she had them all out had been of one of her shoes hung up in a branched lamp, where it had landed when, dizzy and a little giddy, she’d fallen onto one of the small, lumpy sofas and kicked the shoes off and one of them had gone further than she meant for it to. It was a wonder she hadn't set the rug on fire.
Even magical pictures didn’t capture such things, but looking at them all had brought back to her the smells of candles and evergreens, the taste of cinnamon and vanilla in her hot chocolate, the sounds of off-key Christmas carols and John practicing German phrases he’d memorized from a book on the skeptical-looking Yorkshire terrier which owned one of Dad’s eccentric cousins and the big band records her parents liked to play until all hours when the whole family was awake anyway. None of it was at all unfamiliar, but it all seemed strangely wonderful this time, after everything else which had happened since September.
Charlie’s speculations about anchoring the butterfly with parts from the other reality brought her back to the present. “It could,” agreed Julian, thinking it made sense. “It’s worth a try, I guess.”
She gave it one, but the movement she made was more oval than circular. Any circle she drew freehand this way, she remembered from her geometry, was going to really be more of an oval by default, no one could draw anything close to a perfect circle without a protractor and a lot of patience, but this one was practically pointy at the ends, so she was not surprised when it proved too far outside the wand movement’s margin of error and the butterfly flapped on.
Three tries later, she must have gotten it closer, because the butterfly fell abruptly to the bottom of the container with a tiny clink. For a second, Julian was confused because its wings were still beating, now more frantically-looking, but then she realized this was because the butterfly's legs had just turned to goldish-colored metal.
“Erm…that,” she said. “I’m…guessing that happened because I was focusing on it holding still the most of all.” She made a face as she looked at the helpless butterfly, anchored in place by its now-useless legs. “Yours is prettier,” she added, looking at what he had – still mobile, but shiny. “I wonder how it works – is it just the scales on the outside, or did they just change colors some?” If it was really turning to gemstone on any deeper level, it surely wouldn’t still be able to fly, she thought – too heavy. And not alive. And she didn’t think the spell would end up with a mobile metal butterfly – those could be made, pretties in Byzantium, but she didn’t think that one would do it.
OOC: The cozy family recollections recounted above (and, assuming she was one of the friends' parents Charlie's parents corresponded with, 'hi' from her mom), with no mention of long-lost relatives; she’s not ready to talk about all that.
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Julian
Will that help you succeed in your mission?
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Colours other than orange... by Ji-Eun Park
Ji-Eun was glad life had returned to normal at Sonora. Although it wasn't a crucial year for her, there was still such a thing as a top grade in her end of term assignments and tests, and she doubted that even a huge purple cloud that had denied her qualified teachers for a term would be deemed a reasonable excuse for not achieving it. She had studied diligently during their absence but had all the time felt the fear of falling behind. She had tried to ensure that Ji-Won kept up with his work too, which was probably harder than managing all her own subjects. At least he hadn't caused any notable carnage, and he would probably get through his assignments fine. He had the irritating gift of being able to coast through and then pull things out of the bag with one big burst of effort when it counted. It was possible that she would have been able to achieve the same results with the same method but the anxiety she would feel by running that close to the wire made it impossible.She took a seat up front in Transfiguration, fluffy purple quill sharp and ready. Under her robes, she was wearing white leggings with glasses printed on to help her feel extra smart and ready for the day. She had failed to find any inspiring t-shirts or dresses so had just gone for a plain black jersey dress so as not to clash with the busy pattern on her lower half.
Her mouth formed a little 'oh' as she discovered they would be working on butterflies. It was silly, of course. Her parents' apothecary was full of dead insects of one sort or another, and she tossed them into cauldrons of boiling water without a grimace or a second thought. Was it because the butterfly was pretty or because it was still alive that she felt this compunction? She had not overly enjoyed working with other insects but it was less their living nature and more their... wiggly grossness that bothered her. She supposed that meant it was because it was pretty. Which was silly, and unfair - would she be more comfortable turning her wand on people if they were ugly? She certainly hoped not – and was something which she needed to get over.
She went and selected a tortoiseshell butterfly. She almost wished she'd thought of her brooch design first because, now she looked at it, all sorts of orange options sprung to mind – from cute but kitchy smiling fruits, to more elegant affairs with amber.
“Stretch yourself...” she repeated Professor Skies' advice, taking her eyes off the butterfly and trying to think in other colours.
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Ji-Eun Park
Colours other than orange...
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Amity Brockert, Aladren
July 09, 2014 6:19 PM
Not this thing. by Amity Brockert, Aladren
Amity dragged herself into class, feeling sluggish. She kind of had been all year, refusing to anything she didn't absolutely have to do while the staff was missing, mostly looking out for her little sister and studying for CATS. She might not want to study anymore for the big test, but the Aladren did want to do fairly well, though Transfiguration was the only class she thought she'd get an O in. It was widely regarded as the hardest, but it was the easiest for her. Although, Professor Skies was a much more difficult professor than her aunt had probably been, but then Aunt Lilac was kind of a pushover in general.Actually, this was the only class she liked at all right now. She supposed Charms was okay, and while she found other subjects interesting enough, she was just more sick of studying right now than she usually was at school. At least this time, Amity wasn't alone in this as Arabella seemed fed up too-and a lot more sympathetic towards Amity's complaints than in the past. On the other hand, she would hate-more than usual-to be Carrie right now, because if she irritated the Pecari too much, it was not going to be pretty. And the fifth year did not want Arabella to get in trouble over her . She was not worth that.
Professor Skies began her lecture and Amity sighed to herself. The idea of inanimate to animate transfiguration or the reverse really did not bother her at all. It was something she was used to and knew nothing would be hurt. And quite frankly, she kind of wanted to take her frustrations out on something that couldn't be. Where she'd be rewarded rather than punished or feel guilty. Amity didn't really want to hurt things or people she didn't like, she just wanted them away from her.
On the other hand, it was probably easier to get a broach and try to transfigure something not moving. She didn't care enough about butterflies to know a lot about them or name any species other than monarchs. They were not magical creatures, so the fifth year really only knew some about how they were used in potions, that some were poisonous if you ate them-and of course that they were not easy to catch and they did not stay still. Yeah, that was more energy than she wanted expound-or really even had-right now.
So instead, Amity chose the jewelry. She tried deliberately not to look for a butterfly broach but admittedly, that was difficult too, going against her natural instincts. However, the process of looking for one was also enough effort that she didn't want to do that either and just took a bird instead. They were similar enough to butterflies.
And how so, Amity wondered as she looked at her broach. In order to think about how to change it, she would also have to think about how those two animals were similar, as they were more so than butterflies and jewelry themselves. Both could be pretty, though most of this stuff wasn't. The Aladren figured either the professor had bought it somewhere for the purposes of this lesson-it couldn't have been too expensive, so it would likely be in the school budget and she couldn't imagine the current Headmaster approving of Deputy Headmistress Skies having them turn anything valuable into butterflies, though given the general character of the man, it was entirely a possibility. She'd have to ask her father or Aunt Alice-or she had a relative, a grandmother or spinster great aunt with awful taste.
Okay, so how were they similar? Butterflies and birds both had wings which meant birds didn't stay still either, but they were less hyperactive than butterflies. Most could be different colors, some birds especially had a lot of them, like parrots. Amity was very glad not to have to turn anything into a parrot right now. What else did she know about birds? Not much more than she did about butterflies. Owls carried mail and couldn't get through strange purple clouds caused by horribly gone wrong experimental charms facilities. She knew the former wasn't true about butterflies and nobody had bothered to find out about the latter. Or at least hadn't told her. Probably irrelevant was the fact that Arabella did not like birds much and didn't like to go in the owlery at all but didn't have any issues with butterflies. Birds had beaks, which butterflies did not, which might have something to do with her cousin's issues about the former.
Most people, however, did not seem to find either disgusting. Differences beyond them both having wings were easier. Butteflies not only didn't have beaks, they didn't have feathers either. Now to think about the similarities between this particular broach and butterflies. This ugly thing was covered with obviously fake blue gemstones. Poor imitations of sapphires.Probably not even qualified as such. It did have a wing span, on one side, which made Amity frown. She didn't think the Deputy Headmistress would appreciate a one winged butterfly. Now she was going to have to imagine the second wing. Rats.
This wasn't going to be as easy as Amity had initially thought-and that was very disappointing. Why hadn't she been more careful at her selection? She'd probably made things more difficult for herself than the opposite. Part of her wanted to lose it completely but she would not make a fool of herself in front of everyone. She would not give in to hysterics like one of poor breeding.
Instead, she sighed again. The Aladren was stuck with this. Stuck as she had always been. She concentrated on that missing wing-which was now going to be a shade of blue that was almost the same color as the tacky shade of fake jewels when before she might have ventured into a different shade-made the most delicate motion that she possibly could, fortunately Amity had been taught to be delicate that way, and pronounced, perfectly but without much enthusiasm, "Lepidopteria,"
Well, there is was, a bird bodied, tackily covered broach-apparently, Amity had entirely forgotten about the body, which was not at all similar in birds and butterflies-but a wing that was, pretty much, more butterfly than bird as she'd been imagining a butterfly wing. The original wing was still pretty...birdish but a nice butterfly texture with just a couple ugly stones here and there, and almost the same color all the way through.
It was however, better than she'd thought it would be, and she was far from a perfectionist. In fact, Amity felt it was pretty good, for something that had been harder than expected. She'd give it another go in a few minutes. She looked over at Effie, not to copy but to see how her friend was doing. "Looks like your broach is almost as tacky as mine." Except it was not half butterfly with a flapping wing. She wrinkled her nose. "Maybe I should change it back. I know it doesn't hurt them but it looks kind of painful anyway. Fragile little butterfly wings can't support a body made of fake gemstones."
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Amity Brockert, Aladren
Not this thing.
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Amity Brockert, Aladren
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