If you try sometimes... on Transfiguration

Professor Skies

January 09, 2015 6:02 AM

Beginners - don't get in a tangle by Professor Skies

“Good Morning,” Professo Skies greeted, one she felt that most of the class had assembled. She would allow a little leeway for late-comers in the first weeks but as the first years shared classes with the second years, it should have been easy enough for them to find their way.

“You have already been introduced to me as Deputy Headmistress Skies,” she acknowledged, looking out over the new faces and trying to remember which colours she had seen each of them turn. “However, during class, you may address me as Professor Skies, or simply ‘Professor.’

“Transfiguration is a complex branch of magic. You may find that your work here proceeds more slowly than in other classes. Work hard and work patiently, however, and you will find it yields rewarding results. Furthermore, just because it lacks the flashes and bangs of some of your other subjects, you should not take any lighter an attitude. You are still waving around a stick with the power to do all manner of things, trying to get it to turn things into other things, and still with limited control of your own ability. Whilst you are unlikely to Transfigure your classmate by accident - and your homework will be to read chapter two of your book and write an answer as to why - you could still hurt them. I do not broker messing about,” she informed them, seriously but not sternly. If they broke this simple rule, they would find that Professor Skies was perfectly capable of firm but fair strictness, but it was not in her nature to growl and be intimidating.

“Today, first years will be turning shoe-laces into ribbons, whilst second years will be aiming for the same result from a twig,” she informed them, a box of these materials that had been sitting on her desk began making its way amongst the students. “The first stage in this will be to fill out the handout coming around now. Second years should by now be familiar with this, so may take one or do their own from scratch. This is a Transfiguration table,” she explained, as a pile of sheets followed the box, both pausing by each student. The sheets had a simple two column table with a list of attributes, such as size, shape and colour down the left hand side, with empty spaces to their right. “When Transfiguring, it is important to fully visualise the changes that must take place. This will help you do so, as well as allowing you to channel your energy more efficiently, focussing on those areas that require the most change. The attributes should be considered relative between the object - that is, you do not need to specify the dimensions for size, only whether you are trying to change this, and in what sort of way.

“The spell you will all be using is cordone,” behind her the chalk scribbled this on the board, along with the pronunciation ‘cor-don-AY.’ “You should use a long, flowing wand motion,” she explained, demonstrating it slowly, “As follows, cordone>” she cast the spell in its completeness, transforming the quill of a student who had looked like they were daydreaming. She turned it back, before setting the class to their task.

“You may talk quietly amongst yourselves, and ask your peers or me for help if you are stuck.”

OOC: Welcome to Transfiguration. Posts here are graded on your realism not how well you claim to have performed, so keep it in line with what could be expected of someone of your character's age and experience. You are being supervised and Professor Skies would not allow anything to get out of hand, so please give me time to intervene if you are having/causing trouble, and tag me in the subject line to get my attention.

Please put your character's name and house in the author line.

Posts are marked on length, realism, creativity and relevance. Enjoy.

Subthreads:

What about knots? by John Spencer, Aladren with Jemima Wolseithcrafte, Teppenpaw

Confident in my abilities. by Barnaby Pye, Aladren

Trying it out by Ginger Pierce, Teppenpaw with Anna Clarissa Cooper-Flemming, Pecari

It won't be an issue by Kelsey Atwater, Crotalus with Sammy Meeks [Pecari]

Playing with molecules. by Aislinn Nicolls, Aladren with John Umland, Aladren

Not getting anywhere. by Sutton Nicolls, Pecari with Caelia Lucan

13 Professor Skies Beginners - don't get in a tangle 26 Professor Skies 1 5

John Spencer, Aladren

January 09, 2015 2:03 PM

What about knots? by John Spencer, Aladren

Whilst Jack preferred not to rely on his siblings for support in an effort to stay independent, he was very glad Adam and Charlotte had mapped out the school for him beforehand. He gave himself a little time in case he did get lost, but he found his way to the Transfiguration classroom five minutes early. Satisfied, he sat down at a desk near the centre and prepared his notes, only a bit nervous. This was his first time in a real classroom instead of having tutors come to his house. It seemed more competitive in a way, not to mention intimidating.

The Transfiguration professor was familiar, but he was glad when she reintroduced herself. Professor Skies. He would have to remember that.

Already homework was being assigned and Jack quickly wrote it down in his diary. It would be entertaining to see a classmate transfigured, but he couldn't imagine what the process would be like. It would have to be very difficult in order to transfigure a human being.

It felt odd being a classroom with upper-years, and the combined Intermediate classes were even more packed. With a lack of teachers, he supposed, it couldn't be helped. Professor Skies seemed like an interesting professor, one he could learn from and enjoy. Transfiguration was a promising class.

Shoe-laces into ribbons sounded rather elementary, but also incredibly difficult. He took a handout from the box going around and examined it carefully. Some of the attributes were obvious, such as the colour of the shoe-lace, the shape and the texture as opposed to a ribbon. The size was a little more difficult to decide, but he finally wrote an estimation of its length. The length wouldn't matter as much since the ribbon would be the same. What he did need to focus on most was its texture and shape. A ribbon was flatter and softer, almost like cloth.

Jack felt a little self-conscious lifting his wand. He flicked back his brown fringe out of his eyes with a short jerk of his head. The way Professor Skies had so easily transfigured a quill made him feel inadequate, but it was a challenge he wanted to conquer. "Cordone," he said, attempting a long, flowing wand motion which turned out more hesitant and halting. In response to his poor wand-work, the shoe-lace wriggled and knotted itself. Jack picked it up and attempted to pry the knot out, but it was impossible. He'd never been good at undoing knots. Frustrated, he glanced over at the person next to him, feeling unusually shy. But he had to get this knot undone before he began working again. Jack cleared his throat. "Excuse me, do you know how to undo a knot?" he asked, showing the tightly-knotted shoe-lace.

40 John Spencer, Aladren What about knots? 299 John Spencer, Aladren 0 5

Jemima Wolseithcrafte, Teppenpaw

January 10, 2015 12:28 AM

Isn't that just a very tight tangle? by Jemima Wolseithcrafte, Teppenpaw

Transfiguration, she had been led to believe, was incredibly complicated and difficult and clever, and everyone in her family more or less loved it. She thought it sounded very interesting and exciting - the possibility of turning one thing into another was intriguing but she wasn’t sure she’d be very good at it. She had understood the opening chapters of her book, which she supposed was a good sign, though they hadn’t intrigued her enough to plough eagerly ahead into next week’s reading. Jemima was bright enough to understand most of her studies with ease but she lacked the driving passion to take it deeper and become immersed in the way that seemed characteristic of her family. Whilst she would prove to be perfectly capable at keeping up compared to her class-mates, the only examples she had had to compare herself to growing up were her older and over-achieving siblings. Subsequently, this led to her rather underestimating her own abilities and intelligence. The only element she was looking forward to getting really involved in, and thought she might do well at, was when they were required to start adding designs to their projects but that was a long way off.

She took a seat in the middle of the room, smiling at the boy next to her as she sat down. She was still trying to remember who was who, and which people were her year and which were second years. The emblem on his robe, she noticed with a slightly sinking feeling, was Aladren. He was probably going to be frightfully smart and already have read all of the textbook and be just dying to discuss it. She wouldn’t keep up, like she didn’t when Francesca and Theodore got going at the dinner table, and then he’d probably think she was stupid.

She listened extra hard to Professor Skies, taking the handout and studying it seriously. She filled it in in as much detail as she could…. Shape - flatten out, widen…. Or should that have been under size? She crossed it out, adding ‘wider’ to the relevant column. Colour - variable, preferably change to orange. The shoelace was black and whilst you could have black ribbons that didn’t seem very nice at all. Material - both fabrics but ribbon is… She hesitated. What fabric were ribbons? They were… ribbony but she couldn’t really write that…. ’different’ she finished.

“Cordone,” she cast, trying to picture the shoelace compressing and widening, lightening up to orange but nothing seemed to happen. She was about to try again when her neighbour called for her attention. She braced herself, trying to remember everything she had learnt from chapter one. His request came as a bit of a surprise.

“Um, usually,” she responded, a little confused (knot untying was not exactly a complex skill) until he held up his project. “Ah. Um. Not by magic. But I have nails,” she added, holding up her hands. Boys usually cut their shorter which was a disadvantage in such situation. “And a younger sister who isn’t the neatest dressed person. I could have a go.”

13 Jemima Wolseithcrafte, Teppenpaw Isn't that just a very tight tangle? 304 Jemima Wolseithcrafte, Teppenpaw 0 5

Barnaby Pye, Aladren

January 10, 2015 2:36 PM

Confident in my abilities. by Barnaby Pye, Aladren

That morning, after waking up early and discovering that the dining did not serve breakfast until seven, Barnaby went back up to the Aladren commons to go over his textbooks. His tutor had worked with him over the summer, discussing basic principles of the different subjects that would be covered using Alfie’s old textbooks but Barnaby had been wondering if perhaps any theories might have changed in the fifteen years it had been since Alfie was a first year and this provided a perfect opportunity for that. Transfiguration was the third class of the day and the one right before lunch so Barnaby’s stomach let out a tiny growl as he entered the room. He had eaten a very small breakfast of tea and plain toast, never enjoying the feeling of over stuffing himself but also having been used to being allowed to eat a snack whenever he liked during the day. It seemed that Skies was one to take things seriously and Barnaby was glad for the no nonsense attitude. He was already not looking forward to Defense class, knowing that it would be an awkward encounter and wondering just how the it would be handled.

However, that wasn’t something he would have to worry about for another few hours and certainly not until after lunch and after Transfiguration was over, so Barnaby opened his bookbag and prepared to take notes, carefully writing the homework down on the first line of his brand new parchment. It wouldn’t be too difficult, he decided, as chapter two was one of the chapters he had read that morning and as such he already had a few ideas as to why it was a bad idea to transfigure his classmates. The number one being what Skies had already stated—their inexperience and lack of total control over their magic. He shuddered at the idea of one of his classmates getting too carried away and transfiguring him into something nasty despite having wished multiple times at a younger age to be able to transfigure his forced playmates into all manner of horrible things.

The transfiguration table that Skies was having them fill out seemed tedious work but he completed it none the less, making sure to specify which changes he wanted to make and how. He decided that his ribbon ought to be slightly larger than the shoelace because to leave it the same width would be demonstrating laziness, and he chose to change the colour to a dark blue for similar reasons. It would be silly to attempt anything more than that on his first go of it and though Barnaby planned to be able to be highly accomplished at transfiguration he also wanted to test out the waters without feeling incredibly stupid for being unable to finish his project. An unfinished project, in Barnaby’s humble opinion, was a true tragedy indeed. Once his table was complete, Barnaby waved his wand in the motion Skies had demonstrated in order to practise the movement. He remembered Father getting frustrated with Alfie for poor wand movement as a result of general laziness and disregard for studying so he was determined to pull of precise motions.

“Cordone,” he pronounced carefully under his breath as he read off his notes. It was a fun word to say and he was sure once he looked up it’s origins he would be able to find a simple connection that would make it easy to remember. After he was certain that he understood both the pronunciation and the wand movement, Barnaby raised his wand and appraised his shoelace. Though he was not particularly fond of the dingy, off-white colour that the shoelace was, Barnaby’s first order of business was to make it more ribbon-like. Only after he had completed that part of the assignment would he feel able to pay attention to smaller details like colour. “Cordone,” he said, picturing the shoelace becoming silkier and wider. His arm was slightly shaky with excitement but mostly fluid and Barnaby watched, a smile spreading across his face as the hard bits at the end of the shoelace began to soften flatten out and as the rough texture smoothed down. It wasn’t a perfect product, but it was a start and so he poised himself to try again. This time, he decided, he would add colour to the list of things he wanted to change and see if that made it more or less difficult.

10 Barnaby Pye, Aladren Confident in my abilities. 298 Barnaby Pye, Aladren 0 5

Ginger Pierce, Teppenpaw

January 12, 2015 3:13 PM

Trying it out by Ginger Pierce, Teppenpaw

Ginger recognized the woman at the front of the room as the lady who had handed out the sorting potion at the Opening Feast, but was glad for the re-introduction. There had been a lot of people and a lot of introductions that night and Ginger wasn't quite as wonderful with names as she really wanted to be. She had Jemima and Lauren down, and even Mr. Xavier, her Head of House, but the Deputy's name had slipped away from her. As soon as the woman introduced herself as Professor Skies, though, she suddenly remembered that she'd actually heard about this teacher from her older family memebers. Sullivan had said she was a great teacher, and if Ginger fell behind, she should definitely seek extra help sooner rather than later.

She hoped it wouldn't be necessary, but she would keep that in mind.

Taking a seat near the middle of the room, she brought out a quill and a parchment for taking notes and carefully laid her new wand on the desk in front of her. She wasn't normally a very studious student, but she was very much looking forward to learning how to use that. For the first bit of the lecture she faced forward in her seat, trying to sit still and attentive to give off a good first impression, but she kept catching herself picking up her quill and twirling it around her fingers, or rearranging where her wand or ink pot sat on her desk, or just outright fidgetting in her chair. Twice she bit down on her lower lip to stop herself from talking to a neighbor.

When the boxes came around, she gladly welcomed the distraction and took a shoe-lace and a sheet of paper with the transfiguration table on it and passed them on. The shoe-lace was a fairly standard one of its kind, a bit worn, and she briefly wondered what else it had seen - metaphorically, of course - in its existence. Had it held someobody's shoe on once, or had it always been a transfiguration class prop and students had been turning it into ribbons for decades? And if the former, how had it ever retired into this life? Had it once been Skies' shoe-lace? Her predecessor's? Ginger tried to check out the professor's footwear, but there were too many people and desks in the way to get a good look.

The consideration of her shoe-lace's history was cut short as she made herself refocus back on the lesson. She'd missed some of it, but hopefully not anything terribly important. She got enough to get the gist on how to fill out her worksheet, and she took careful notes on the key points of the incantation and the wand movement.

She began with her worksheet, since that seemed to be the logical order of things. There wasn't much point in outlining a plan of action *after* performing a task after all. She considered each of the attributes carefully and made her comments. Beside "Size" she wrote "Same" since she decided a ribbon and a shoe lace could reasonably be the same length from one end to the other. After "shape" she wrote "flatter and wider" to account for the different dimensions the two lengths would have. For color, she paused thoughtfully, then wrote "Yellow" because she was a Teppenpaw and didn't have any better ideas. For "Texture" she noted "Smooth and satiny" then frowned at it, uncertain if ribbons were made from satin or if there was a different word she should use there. She decided to leave it. For "Other" she noted that the ribbon would be "less stretchy." Shoe laces didn't really have a lot of give too them, but they had some due to the weaving pattern, but ribbons had almost none at all.

Then she picked up her wand and regarded her shoe-lace, imagining the changes she'd just listed out on her paper. She took a deep breath. *Here goes everything.* She made the flowing wand motion and said, "Cor-don-AY!"

Nothing happened at all.

"Well, drat," she remarked in frustrated disappointment. She might very well need to seek extra help earlier than she'd thought. Maybe she'd done her visualization too early. Maybe she was supposed to do that with the wand movement and the incantation, not beforehand. "Okay, second try," she said outloud, psyching herself up. "Nobody gets it on the first try." She purposely did not look around at her neighbors to see if this was fact or a self-reassuring lie. "CordonAY!" she tried again, imagining her shoe-lace turning into a ribbon and saying the spell more like a single word this time rather than three distinct syllables.

This time there was magic.

The shoe-lace did become flatter and more shimmery. It didn't really widen much and it was not nearly as yellow as she had intended - more like off-white than Teppenpaw yellow - but it did look a lot less shoe-lacey than it had before, and that was definitely progress! "Whoo!" she cheered in delight. With this proof that she had at least attempted the lesson and been partially successful, she allowed herself to see what her neighbor had accomplished so far. "That's a lot of things you need to keep your brain wrapped around all at once, isn't it?"

1 Ginger Pierce, Teppenpaw Trying it out 302 Ginger Pierce, Teppenpaw 0 5

Jack Spencer

January 12, 2015 7:54 PM

Tangle, knot, same difference. by Jack Spencer

The witch that sat next to him smiled, and Jack smiled stiffly back at her though he wanted to groan into his hands. Why couldn’t the witches stick with their own kind and leave him with the wizards? He had hoped to make male friends here at Sonora and get away from the dominant females, but it seemed as though Sonora lacked in the male species. The observation was very unfortunate and Jack could only hope the witch next to him wasn’t over-bearing in any way.

His siblings had told him group work was to be expected often in his courses, and though Jack usually enjoyed working on his own, working in groups would help him make friends faster with any particular classmate. He couldn’t simply mark off witches just because of their instability; after all, Charlotte was relatively stable, though she hadn’t always been that way.

The witch seemed adequate enough so far, and Jack handed her the knotted shoe-lace. “Thank you,” he said politely. His nails were cut short and he liked to keep them that way. Witches were usually the ones who grew theirs longer; the richer or madder they were, the longer they seemed to be. After a moment, Jack furrowed his brows. “Does your younger sister often find knots in her clothes?” he asked. He wasn’t quite certain how knots and a sloppy sister correlated, but he hoped she would explain.

His own younger sister wasn’t particularly sloppy in her dress, but she preferred trousers and caps over sensible dresses and skirts. She hardly cared for her appearance, and just before he’d left for school she had cut her long hair at her chin by herself. It was no secret that she wished to be just like Adam; most of the wizard’s clothes she wore were clothes that Adam had outgrown. She was too much for Jack who was usually the one responsible of keeping her out of trouble. He doubted anyone could keep that little tyke out of mischief. He didn’t miss her yet, but he hoped she wasn’t causing their mother headaches. Though, knowing Lily, she would endeavour to cause more harm to Mum’s nerves than help. She was the queen of pranks, and Jack hoped that she would outgrow it by the time she came to Sonora.

“I’m Jack, by the way,” he said whilst she worked at the knot. “Jack Spencer. You’re in…Teppenpaw?” he added after examining the emblem on her robes. It was convenient that their uniform also categorised them by house. It made it easier for him to remember who was where, though names were a bit harder to guess. “How do you like your house so far?”

40 Jack Spencer Tangle, knot, same difference. 299 Jack Spencer 0 5

Anna Clarissa Cooper-Flemming, Pecari

January 15, 2015 11:47 AM

Also giving it a go by Anna Clarissa Cooper-Flemming, Pecari

The Deputy Headmistress was in charge of Transfigurations, which Anna Clarissa had mixed feelings about. Having begun to learn how to fly and having begun her search for a familiar with her friend and roommate Izzy, the Pecari was more than ready to complete the trifecta and learn to turn people into toads, which she assumed would happen in Transfiguration. However, she hadn't quite sorted out how they would be learning how to turn people into toads (since they probably wouldn't be practicing on other students) and probably the Deputy Headmistress was pretty big on rules, what with being a Deputy Headmistress at all. Probably the Headmaster was the one who had to follow all the rules, though, so maybe the Deputy Headmistress had chosen this one to break.

Anna Clarissa was wearing pink and purple tennis shoes with white laces, and jeans and a cute brown blouse with lace around the neckline under her school robes. The hems of her jeans showed at the bottoms (they'd gotten her school stuff at the beginning of the summer and she was in the middle of a growth spurt, it seemed) but the blouse was completely hidden. That was disappointing, because Anna Clarissa liked to think she had good taste in clothing and she liked to show it off sometimes. Not all the time, but it looked like wearing school robes was going to get in the way of all of it, which was disappointing.

Hm. Anna Clarissa's eyebrows drew together in a look of concern. Although the Deputy Headmistress - er, Transfiguration professor - hadn't quite told them not to turn people into frogs, she was certainly spending an awful long time going on about how hard Transfiguration was. And she was assigning an essay too? The hazel-eyed girl didn't quite pout, but she was pretty disappointed. And the disappointment didn't subside when Professor Skies proceeded to explain to them what their task was. How come first years couldn't use twigs? Why was there a work sheet? This was seeming awful close to a math class and Anna Clarissa had been pretty excited to not have to take math. Not that she was bad at it, she just didn't have the patience for the worksheets when she already understood how to do the problem.

When the boxes came around, Anna Clarissa pulled her worksheet out, glared at it, and pulled a shoelace too. She didn't glare at the shoelace. Once the professor had shown them what to do, though, the Pecari was bubbling with excitement once more. She peered around carefully to see if anyone was watching her specifically, then pulled her wand out of her bag. It was made of a light-colored wood, and was a little bendy, and she thought it was very pretty.

Anna Clarissa flattened the shoelace out on her desk and looked at it. She decided she wanted to turn it into a candycane striped ribbon, like the kind you might put on a Christmas gift. She raised her wand about as high as the professor had raised hers, and wiggled it down in a flowing type of motion.

"Cordone," the curly-haired first year pronounced, using the same voice she'd used to call her broom to her hand during their class on flying. The shoelace wiggled for a second, then flattened out, became shinier, and blood red stripes blossomed on it.

Anna Clarissa's eyes widened and she bounced up and down for a minute before looking around to see how the people around her were doing.

"Yeah, definitely," the Pecari responded to her neighbor, turning to see the other girl (did she recognize her from flying class maybe? Anna Clarissa couldn't put a name to the face but it seemed a little familiar at least - or she could just be mixing up faces. There had been so many new ones). Her classmate's ribbon was kind of thin and a very pale yellow, which Anna Clarissa thought was pretty. "I like that color," she said, complimenting her classmates work. "Is it your favorite?"

0 Anna Clarissa Cooper-Flemming, Pecari Also giving it a go 0 Anna Clarissa Cooper-Flemming, Pecari 0 5

Jemima

January 17, 2015 4:08 AM

Then you should know that it wasn't a good idea by Jemima

Jemima took the lace, working the knot, trying to get a nail in and get some leverage. It was pretty tight.

“In her laces,” she clarified, feeling silly that she hadn’t made herself clear enough, “It seems like she can’t go for a walk without coming back with them in knots. I don’t really understand it - the whole point of a bow is it just… slips out.

“Oh, you’re Adam’s brother,” she smiled, when he introduced himself. “I’m….” as she came to introduce herself, she realised how annoyed she would be to be summarised as Francesca or Theodore’s sister. Not that they weren’t very nice people and good to be related to but she wasn’t like them, and hated the idea of someone else weighing her up against them. “Sorry,” she changed tack. “I’m Jemima Wolseithcrafte. Your brother’s friend’s with my sister - she’s the one that didn’t go crazy on him last year,” she clarified, just in case Jack had heard anything about the rift but couldn’t remember which witch it was that had caused it all. Francesca hadn’t said a lot to her about it but it had been obvious that she was cross with Ginny, and Jemima had overheard her talking a little about it to Barnabus. “But I hate it when people sum me up like that - oh, another Wolseithcrafte, I’m sure I’ll see great things from you, if you’re anything like your brothers and sister,” she intoned, echoing the words of one her more annoying tutors, “So I didn’t mean to do it to you,” she explained. “And yes, I’m in Teppenpaw,” she added, remembering his original observation, “It seems nice. And you’re in Aladren?” she wasn’t sure why she made it a question, seeing as she could see it from his robes. “How’s that?

“Here,” she added, handing back the shoelace. It bore a little kink where it had been tightly tied but was otherwise back to normal.

“At least yours did something,” she added, “Mine’s just the same as ever. I suppose I should try again.

“Cordone,” she tried, wiggling her wand and trying not to feel self-conscious. When she looked at the lace, it had developed lighter splotches, a little like someone had dripped bleach on parts of it, “I guess that’s something… I was going for orange,” she explained to Jack, lest he couldn’t see how the manky and mottled appearance of her lace constituted an improvement.

13 Jemima Then you should know that it wasn't a good idea 304 Jemima 0 5

Kelsey Atwater, Crotalus

January 18, 2015 11:48 AM

It won't be an issue by Kelsey Atwater, Crotalus

Kelsey had noticed something about her yearmates. Nearly all the boys were proper and most of the girls were not. In one way, this was a good thing, because it meant little competition for betrothals. On the other hand, there was little chance of making a good female friend. Her roommate seemed all right and Jemima Wolseithcrafte was from a proper background though her family held some currently controversial political views. Still, it wasn't as if the Wolseithcraftes were advocating something really abhorent like anything pro-Muggle.

If she was really lucky, Jemima and Caelia would end up with the pureblood boy who she couldn't marry and the one she was highly unlikely to marry. Granted, an Atwater wasn't exactly the same as a Brockert and Kelsey wasn't even that closely related to Evan anyway.

She listened in rapt attention to Professor Skies. In no way did the Crotalus want to fail to perform even the simplest feat of magic. To be socially acceptable, one had to also be a fully competent witch or wizard. Being a Squib was a blight on a family, a great shame. Kelsey didn't even want to be related to one. She couldn't even understand how people survived without magic-and she didn't want to. It sounded like a terrifyingly primitive existance.

Besides, with a whole bunch of that sort in her year-though the second year girls seemed better than the ones in her class, given that there was an Arbon, a Carey and a Newell-she had no choice but to succeed. Kelsey was not about to be shown up by halfbloods and muggleborns. Even if she did automatically have the advantage over them, especially in Transfiguration.

The first year took a Transfiguration table when it came her way. Figuring out the differences and similarities between a ribbon and a shoe lace was easy. They could be equal in length and width. Their colors varied, though Kelsey felt ribbons tended to have more variety and be prettier looking. They could also be wider than a shoelace. There was a difference in what they were used for and shoelaces were more likely to get dirty or ruined. Not that her shoes ever got dirty. Such a thing was unacceptable. Kelsey didn't even really wear shoes with laces. Her shoes tended to be dressier. The material used in shoelaces and ribbons was very different as well.

Once her table was filled out in her neat handwriting, Kelsey looked at her shoelace. It was a plain thing, white. She envisioned a ribbon she had that was a lovely pink color and made of the finest silk. The Crotalus had extremely refined tastes, preferring what was elegant and classy. Nothing cheap or tacky or common. "Cordone" She said, her voice steady and confident, her pronounciation and wand moments flawless. The shoe-lace turned into something not quite silk and a much paler pink than Kelsey wanted. She was about to try again when a voice nearby distracted her. "Pardon?" She asked.

11 Kelsey Atwater, Crotalus It won't be an issue 305 Kelsey Atwater, Crotalus 0 5

Ginger

January 18, 2015 1:53 PM

Going along together? by Ginger

Ginger saw her neighbor was a Pecari she hadn't met yet. The other girl had managed a pretty good transfiguration of her shoelace, making it shiny, and even striped, which was more daring that Ginger had wanted to try for her first time. She smiled when the girl agreed with her assessment, glad she wasn't the only one who thought so.

Ginger flushed slightly as the Pecari complimented her ribbon and asked about its color. "I was actually going for something a bit more vibrant, actually," she admitted truthfully. "Though it is kinda pretty like this." It wasn't really something she'd normally pick out for herself, though. It was just a bit too subtle for her to really take notice of it. Ginger wasn't really into subtlety much. Her uniform robes covered most of her normal attire, so it wasn't immediately obvious that she generally preferred colors that were, well, more colorful.

"My favorite color is actually cotton candy blue," she told her new friend, because she had expressed interest and Ginger saw no reason not to tell her. "But I was trying to go for house spirit and make it Teppenpaw yellow."

"I'm Ginger, by the way," she continued, by way of introduction, hoping the girl would return the favor so she wouldn't have to start mentally referring to her classmate as 'the Pecari girl who likes pale yellow ribbons' or something equally cumbersome. She gestured idly toward her black hair that fell in mostly straight lines down to her shoulders, and added, because it would hardly be the first time if the other girl took a double take at her dark tresses after hearing her name, "I'm named after a fictional character, not the hair color or the spice." Really, mom should have thought things through a little more. It was just as bad as naming her 'Blondie' or something. And it wasn't like Mom even watched Gilligan's Island all that much either, otherwise, she would have realized that the Ginger on it wasn't really all that bright.

And Mom complained about being named after Marcia Brady. . .

Ah well, at least, Ginger sounded pretty cool, so it wasn't a total loss. She did like her name. It was just a bit awkward at first.

1 Ginger Going along together? 302 Ginger 0 5

Anna Clarissa

January 18, 2015 6:59 PM

I feel like we should have a song for the occasion by Anna Clarissa

"That is an awesome favorite color," Anna Clarissa enthused, when her neighbor explained about how her ribbon had turned out that color. Cotton candy blue was a really great color of blue! Anna Clarissa really liked strong colors (not necessarily for clothing, but just in terms of their existence). "My favorite color is a super bright orange that isn't like really really light," the Pecari added. "Like in really nice sunsets that you see in pictures but almost never in real life." Photographers always managed to capture things in their pictures that you could never catch in real life. Anna Clarissa had always been a little bit in awe of skills like that, even if she didn't care enough to figure out how they managed to do things like that.

House spirit was also a little bit beyond the Pecari's comprehension, but Anna Clarissa figured it was one of those different strokes for different folks type deals. She'd never had much in the way of spirit when it came to playing soccer either. Mostly she'd been there to have fun with her teammates and then sometimes get Dairy Queen afterwards.

"Oh! My name is Anna Clarissa," the curly-haired girl responded as her new friend introduced herself as Ginger. She hadn't met anyone named Ginger in real life before, even though it seemed like a pretty popular name for characters in books and even on TV. "Which TV show?" Anna Clarissa asked curiously after the extended explanation of how Ginger had gotten her name. Honestly, the first year hadn't even thought of the idea that the other girl would have been named because of her hair color. Which was partially because Ginger's hair was black but also partially because it seemed awful silly to name someone after their hair color. After all, one of her brothers had been blonde as a baby but had grown up to have brown hair.

"I was named after my great-aunt," Anna Clarissa said, since they were talking about how they got their names anyway. "Well, my middle name. My dad just liked the name Anna. But I thought it was boring on its own so I decided to use both of my names instead of just one." Kindergarten Anna Clarissa hadn't been too pleased at the idea of sharing a first name with not one, but two classmates.

0 Anna Clarissa I feel like we should have a song for the occasion 0 Anna Clarissa 0 5

Aislinn Nicolls, Aladren

January 18, 2015 9:11 PM

Playing with molecules. by Aislinn Nicolls, Aladren

Entering the Transfiguration classroom, Aislinn headed straight towards the front to take a seat. She liked sitting in the front where there were less distractions. Not to mention, she didn’t have to worry about someone taller than her sitting in front of her and then not being able to see the board. Or what if the professor was soft spoken? Then, she ran the risk of not being able to hear the professor and thus, missing something. No, it was always best to sit in the front.

Once she was seated, she made sure that she had everything that she needed and placed it neatly on top of her desk. While waiting for class to begin, she browsed through her book. She had already looked through it last night, but it was nevertheless fascinating and she was sure that she would need to know this class for future purposes. She had already grilled her dad on what classes he had needed in order to become a mediwizard. Yes, this was incredibly valuable.

She didn’t have to wait long for class to begin, as the professor, who turned out to be the deputy, seemed punctual. Aislinn wrote down ever word that the professor said. She could certainly understand that the subject could be extremely complicated. It made sense that it would be given the complexity involved in reforming a structure. She thought of all the molecules that had to shift in order to make it possible. She added the idea to the right side of her notes where she liked to add personal thoughts and additional material.

Aislinn continued to think about that as they were presented with their assignment to change a shoelace to a ribbon. The basic structure was the same, which would be helpful. The length would be able to stay the same since a ribbon could come in any length. The color would also be able to stay the same so she could discard that for now. Her main focus would be on the texture. The shoelace was one of the flatter types rather than rounded. Again, that was helpful. So, she would need to make it thinner and more like satin. She wrote that down as well.

Now, if she were to make it thinner, would it be better to make it wider as well with the idea that the molecules were just rearranging or would it be easier to keep the width, but picture the molecules just becoming smaller in order to take up less space? It was an experiment of sorts, because the easiest way to transfigure the shoelace to a ribbon would be to make it the simplest way. She decided to try to make it wider, allowing the molecules to stay the same, but to simply shift them. After all, in water, ice, and steam, molecules shifted naturally. It would be best to try and keep them in a more natural state.

Aislinn decided to focus on the widening before anything else. She performed the spell a few times before getting it just right. Once she was satisfied with the thinness of the shoelace/ribbon, she turned her attention to the texture. She wasn’t sure how else to make it silkier other than to will it. If she thought about the molecules, it went beyond anything that she had learned in school. Molecules naturally changed the texture based on how tightly or loosely the bonds were formed. Did any of that hold true here?

Maybe? Ribbon wasn’t as strong as a shoelace. She thought of the molecule bonds become looser as she performed the spell. She pictured the shoelace becoming silkier, more ribbon-like. The first time, it didn’t do much other than making it look like more of a fancy shoelace. She tried again. Each time brought her closer to her goal. It seemed to even be getting easier.

Pausing, Aislinn wrote down some other thoughts in her notes. She was in the moment of processing, allowing her quill to twirl back and forth between her fingers. Unfortunately, her thoughts were interrupted when her quill went flying. “Uh, oh,” she whispered. She hoped she didn’t ruin someone else’s work. The quill landed under another student’s desk. Shaking her head at her own stupidity, she went to fetch it. “Excuse me, my quill is under your chair.”

0 Aislinn Nicolls, Aladren Playing with molecules. 297 Aislinn Nicolls, Aladren 0 5

Sutton Nicolls, Pecari

January 18, 2015 9:49 PM

Not getting anywhere. by Sutton Nicolls, Pecari

Sutton arrived to class just as the professor began to lecture. She saw her sister in the front and shook her head. Aislinn was such a nerd sometimes. Unlike her twin, she took a seat in the back and folded her legs under her. She took her notebook out and tried to follow along with the professor. She made a face whenever the professor said that Transfiguration was complicated and a lot of work.

She didn’t really see why the class was necessary. What was the point of being able to make one thing into something else? If you needed something else, then why not just get something else? Aislinn had told her that it was possible to turn a rat into a goblet. Seriously, why would someone want to do that? For one thing, why would someone have a rat laying around just waiting to be turned into a goblet? Did they just not have enough goblets and needed another one? And drinking out of a goblet made from a rat was kind of disgusting. And honestly, who had even thought to try it?

There were probably all sorts of weird things like that. She wondered if there was any real practical use for the class. Okay, maybe if one were a prisoner, the only thing laying around would be a rat and maybe they were thirsty, but that’s the only way it could possibly be useful. Of course, that’s not what they were learning today. As she understood, living things were more complicated so they were doing things that were not living. In this case, it was a shoelace to a ribbon. Again, what was the purpose? Was she suddenly going to need a ribbon to put in her hair or to put on a gift? She doubted it, but whatever. She just had to do it well enough to pass the class.

Sutton ended up with a neon blue shoelace. Well, that was going to make for an interesting ribbon. “Cordone,” she said, pointing her wand at the shoelace. Nothing happened. She tried a few more times and still didn’t get anywhere. Looking over to her neighbor, she asked, “Have you had any luck?” She wasn’t sure if it was the way she was saying it or her wand movement.

0 Sutton Nicolls, Pecari Not getting anywhere. 311 Sutton Nicolls, Pecari 0 5

Sammy Meeks [Pecari]

January 20, 2015 6:48 PM

I wouldn't be so sure, honestly by Sammy Meeks [Pecari]

The school year was still in its infancy, but Sammy had already decided that magic was basically the greatest thing that had ever happened to her. Sonora was just straight-up cool. Her roommates all seemed awesome, waving a wand around was fun, and she even kinda liked wearing robes and stuff. Getting up early she could totally have lived without, but whatever; it would’ve been essentially the same at a normal school anyway.

With palpable excitement, she practically bounced to Transfigurations class. She had survived Charms and Care of Magical Creatures, and now was about the time in the day she began to really perk up. She liked the other classes too, of course, but that early morning stuff really got to her sometimes, when at night she was too excited by all the magic around her to go to sleep at a proper time. Sometimes she was up until one in the morning!

Sammy listened as intently to ~~Vice Principal~~ ~~Deputy Headmistress?~~ Professor Skies, or at least as intently as a hyperactive tween could manage, but at the phrase “Work hard and work patiently…” she lost focus and began spacing out. Instead of listening, she looked around and had her own thoughts, a smile on her face as she remembered how fun her earlier classes were, and did she have any homework? Or, wait, did she have any homework to do for Potions or Defense Against the Dark Arts later?! Welp, she would just have to check at lunch, wouldn’t she?

The next thing she knew, Professor Skies was done talking and they were supposed to do stuff, apparently involving the shoelace in her hand that she had no memory of acquiring. She vaguely recalled noticing a box going around, and she supposed after her classmates got their materials, her muscles must have mirrored them without her mind consciously instructing it to do so. People around her were talking, so she figured it’d be okay if she asked somebody else for help. That way, she only had to embarrass herself in front of a single classmate and not the whole class or the professor. “Hey, can you help me?”

“Pardon?”

“I said, uh, can you help me?” the Pecari repeated for the girl’s benefit. “I was totally spaced during most of the instructions, so I don’t, um, really know what’s going on?” It wasn’t meant as a question, but the intonation rang as if it was one. A somewhat uncomfortable hand attached itself to the back of her neck as if to rub the embarrassment out. “So, like, can you give me the Sparknotes version of what we’re doing?”

12 Sammy Meeks [Pecari] I wouldn't be so sure, honestly 310 Sammy Meeks [Pecari] 0 5

Jack

January 21, 2015 12:17 PM

I'll keep that in mind for next time. by Jack

Ah, the laces. That made much more sense. As a child, shoe-laces had been the bane of his play. They would always come untied, but he’d never thought to knot them to keep them from coming undone. It would have given him loads of practise to undo knots for this class, but a good amount of scolding from his mother. Her sister seemed sensible in a way, or at least creative in solving problems such as shoe-laces that refused to stay in a bow. “I’ve got a younger sister as well,” he offered, “that I’ve got to look after all the time. She always manages to get into trouble; I don’t know how she does it.”

Being labelled as Adam’s brother so early on in his Sonora career was slightly disconcerting, but Jack had prepared himself for it. Adam had certainly made a legacy for himself here, being the Assistant Captain of the Quidditch team and Prefect, but Jack hoped to create his own legacy. Eventually, when Adam and Charlotte both moved on from Sonora, he would be able to sneak out from under their shadow and be known as ‘Jack Spencer Extraordinaire’ instead of ‘Adam’s little brother’. Nevertheless, he noted that Jemima was ‘Francesca’s sister,’ as well as Wolseithcrafte the Younger’s caretaker, giving them some common ground.

Jemima spoke a good amount, both introducing herself and apologising for labelling him. “It’s all right,” he said, “I’m used to it. Your family name is familiar. Adam’s talked about Francesca and Ginny quite a bit this summer.” It sounded like Jemima knew what had gone on somewhat between the trio, so Jack didn’t go into depth. He’d concluded that they were all rubbish at communicating. “I know what you mean, being compared to the great older siblings,” he said, saying the last bit dryly. “But I won’t do that to you.”

When it came to his house, he paused to think of the right words to say. “Aladren’s all right so far,” he finally decided. “Not sure what to make of my house-mates just yet, but we’ve only just begun the term.” He was about to tell how convenient it was that the entrance of the commons was in the library, but he remembered to hold his tongue. That was something he wasn’t supposed to say, and part of him felt glad at being able to know something his siblings didn’t. “Aladren’s supposed to have a wicked Quidditch team, so I’m hoping I’ll be able to join my first year. Have you ever been to a professional Quidditch match? The fans have a good time together, singing and whatnot. I wonder if it’ll be like that here.”

The knot had disappeared and he took it when she handed it back to him. “Thank you,” he said. He laid out the shoe-lace on his side of the table, his head tilted to watch Jemima have another go at transfiguration. Her lace turned splotchy, and though Jemima had failed it gave him an idea. “A reaction is better than absolutely nothing,” he agreed. “Good try. I’ll have a go.” He tried to imagine the transformation in his head, of going from a round, rough string to a smooth, flat ribbon. The bland colour would have to stay as Jack was not yet familiar with the Colour-Changing Charm and the wand was still a bit unfamiliar in his hand. Still, he tried to focus on a particular spot on the lace whilst pretend that Jemima wasn’t there next to him. “Cordone.” The spot he’d pointed at had flattened, about three centimetres of the string. The texture was still a bit rough, but at the very least it was something. He smiled at his progress and turned to Jemima.

“The important thing is to start small and work one’s way up. I read that somewhere. Splotches of colour are better than nothing.” He wasn’t one to encourage slow progress, but as he was at the moment somewhat advanced than her on the current assignment, he thought he’d attempt to be friendly, or at least somewhat sensitive.

40 Jack I'll keep that in mind for next time. 299 Jack 0 5

John Umland, Aladren

January 23, 2015 1:43 PM

Isn't it awesome? by John Umland, Aladren

In his first year, Transfiguration had rapidly become John’s either (depending on the day and how frustrated he was with the Care of Magical Creatures textbook) favorite or second-favorite class. The other subjects had their high points - the creativity required for Charms, the precision of Potions, the ego boost of learning a new jinx or hex in Defense Against the Dark Arts - but Transfiguration combined all their virtues, and in a way which was just. so….

...There was a word. John knew there was a word. He just didn’t know what the word was. Whatever it was, though, it was a positive word. Everything seemed to just fit together. He knew there were still massive gaps in his knowledge, which was why he had faith that he just didn’t understand yet when something didn’t seem to match up, but it all made enough sense that it awed him - along with, of course, the fact that it worked physically as well as in his head. Scientists could use a particle accelerator and an exorbitant amount of electricity to turn one element into another, but usually not in useful quantities. John, a twelve-year-old with a grade six education, could create full-sized, complex things with one word. True, his current best conclusion, after arguing a lot about it with both himself and other people over the summer, was that what they did in class was just molecular manipulation, not actually, as he had thought last year, nuclear transmutation, which was why he thought they just (to use his mother’s terms; John thought he might almost understand what they meant, now, even though Mom had looked at him funny when he'd tried to explain about molecules and last year's Defense classes implying the soul was a physical thing. Mom was pretty strictly a liberal arts person and didn't understand about elements and chemical bonds and stuff) changed the accidents and not the essence, sort of like making a temporary magnet, and the changes didn’t last, but still - even the most modest conclusion he had been able to draw still left him routinely doing something not unlike catalyzing and inhibiting untold thousands of chemical reactions at once. With his brain. And a stick. Which, no matter how complicated he’d ended up speculating that wands might really be by the end of the summer, was still unspeakably insanely awesome.

He had been looking forward to getting back to it all summer, but as he approached the Transfiguration classroom door, he hesitated. He had loved it last year, but...what if he got bored this year because of the first years? He had gotten bored a lot in his other classes because of the first year curriculum last year and he'd been a first year. He didn’t want to ruin his good opinion of this class, one of the two that least often let him down, now. Since he was pretty sure Professor Skies would not accept his argument as valid, though, he went in anyway and found a seat, looking for one which opened toward the wall, with only one neighbor. Ideally, he would have liked to have had the wall both behind and beside him, but the back row was supposed to be for bad kids, so the middle aisles were what he usually aimed for. That was the territory where he could do almost whatever he liked, happily ignored by everybody most of the time. Today, though, all the aisle-ending seats were near the front and he frowned as he took one of them instead.

John did smile a little, though, when Professor Skies mentioned how dangerous the subject was and took one of the charts she handed out out of habit. When they were released to work, though - thankfully doing something at least a little harder than what the first years had been assigned; there wasn't really any new theory, but the task itself was demanding enough to hold his attention for a while - he began writing on his own parchment instead, the metal tip of his dip pen scratching a little against the surface.

Transfiguration: Cordone.

He put his pen down and rummaged in his bag until he came up with his dictionary, which he opened to the ‘r’s. A ribbon was a long, narrow strip, usually of fabric but sometimes of something else. He wrote that down, then added, Twig: a small shoot/branch, usually without leaves. For this, a small, roughly cylindrical piece of wood. He flipped to ‘w.’ Wood: Hard, fibrous substance that makes up most of stems, branches, roots beneath bark.

He twirled the twig between his fingers, thinking, then started to sketch what he remembered about plant cells: hard cell walls, wobbly rectangles in most of the slides and diagrams he had seen, with a big vacuole in the center which was surrounded by organelles. Plant biology was not the subject he knew best, but he thought it would do. Next to that, he drew a cross-hatch pattern, which he labeled weaving - cloth.

If there was a specific fabric ribbons were usually made from, though, he didn’t know it. He knew his mom had tied them in his sister’s hair sometimes when Julian was younger, but borrowing one of Julian’s to tie together something he hadn’t expected would need tying together was as much interest as he had ever taken in ribbons. He was lucky enough to have been born in an era when it did not seem it was fashionable for guys to wear their hair long enough for ribbons, though John thought he'd keep his that way whether it was stylish or not since he thought long hair just looked inconvenient and couldn't understand why his sister and mother didn't cut theirs off. Cotton, though, was a plant fiber. If he could turn the cell walls into threads, getting the energy to do it with from (he thought) the breaking of the chemical bonds holding the atoms together in twig compounds, he thought it would work. Cotton: Soft fiber, he added, wondering how that would affect the Transfiguration. Was it harder to be hard or to be soft? He looked up fiber: a thread, thread-like object, or long, tapering, thick-walled plant cell. Okay, that helped. He started writing again, copying some topics down now from the basic Transfiguration chart.

Size: Ribbon will be longer, but wider than twig. Imagine twig being unrolled - shape: flat vs. cylindrical. Colour: - He thought for a moment - this was not one of the parts of Transfiguration he was better at - and then wrote white just for simplicity’s sake. Cotton was white, peeling back a bit of the bark on his twig revealed that its wood was light, and he was sure he was a little out of practice after a whole summer of barely being able to use his wand at all.

He didn’t know, and didn’t know how he could find out, if the equations would balance at all, but since state of Arizona was still not a sheet of glass despite people who didn’t have that information Transfiguring things every day, he assumed he wasn’t going to be the one to blow it up. He hypothesized that if the bonds breaking did not produce enough energy to complete the transformation, the wand would provide some (somehow - either pulling it from the environment or generating it or just using what was built up, since apparently, they sometimes built some up), and that if the bonds breaking produced too much energy, the excess would be absorbed by the wand, maybe a little get discharged as thermal energy through it. His wand did get a little warm sometimes, though it had yet to burn him. He wasn’t sure what was scarier about that, the implications about how magic worked or the implications about how wands might work, but since he was aware of not knowing enough to really speculate about either, they both unnerved him a little when he thought about them too much. He’d looked for an old cracked wand he might cut open, the better to figure out how that half of the equation worked, in the junk shops over the summer and had spotted a few, but hadn’t been able to solve the problem of Mom still not thinking he was old enough to roam freely in town, which rendered him virtually incapable of making purchases without her knowledge and approval, which he’d known that project wouldn’t get.

He didn’t have time to think about it too much now, though, because a glance up at the room showed him that a lot of his classmates had already stopped writing and started casting.

John’s main difficulty in gaining control had been learning to cast spells with his eyes open. Casting spells, especially more complicated ones like Transfiguration spells, usually went better if his mind was completely on just the spell, and the problem was that his mind was almost never that quiet. When he could see, there was a whole world of things to distract him from what he was supposed to be focused on. Fury, terror, and the written word could make him focus, but none of them really helped with the crucial time it took to wave his wand and pronounce an incantation. He had gotten the problem more or less in hand by the end of first year, but it had been all summer since then, so he gingerly picked up his wand and gave it a warning look.

“Work with me on this,” he muttered. He had a friend who talked to computers and he’d once heard Mom talking to some containers she was trying to make fit into a cabinet, so he didn’t think it was that strange. Squinting, he tried to picture the process - the twig splitting and flattening first, then the cells hollowing out, extending into a woven pattern as they turned into cloth and stretched out longer - he needed the twig to go through while performing the wand movement and saying, “Cordone,” all the while desperately trying not to think of a cord instead of a ribbon.

He failed. The twig did begin to look fabric-like, but also still twisted into a cylinder - like a cord. He dutifully wrote down his results and where he had gone wrong and then started over.

Attempt Two: he wrote after finishing his second try. Process successful. Threads in long, wide, flat arrangement. Problem: Too loosely-woven to be of any use.

The weave had come into existence, but hadn’t tightened up, leaving empty spaces between threads. It was like the world’s most boring piece of lace, as all the patterns were neat rectangles. John looked at the sleeve of his robe, picking up the hem and pulling it closer to his eyes to study the weave of a real piece of fabric. The places where each thread went over the one beneath it, or under the one beside it, seemed to make tiny rectangles similar to the rectangles of cell walls….

Before he could do try again, though, he noticed a person. Girl person. One of the first years in the House. Her quill had somehow ended up under his chair. "Right," he said, then shook his head, edged the chair out a bit, and reached down to retrieve what he assumed was the quill in question. "This one?" he asked, offering it back to her. "Welcome to the House, by the way. I'm John - the second year Aladren. Having any luck with your shoelace?" It was uncomfortable, trying to chat casually with someone he didn't know, but he felt obliged to try to be nice and welcoming to the new Aladrens.

16 John Umland, Aladren Isn't it awesome? 285 John Umland, Aladren 0 5

Caelia Lucan

January 29, 2015 6:22 AM

If you try sometimes... by Caelia Lucan

Caelia had already decided that Transfiguration would be one of her worst classes. Care of Magical Creatures would take a lot of memorizing which would be difficult for her but with Emrys to help with her homework and studying for exams she was certain she would be able to pull off a passing grade. And her grandmother was quite good with Charms and told her that Charms was a subject that gentle-witches were expected to be good at so, like all other gentle-witch behavior, Caelia was certain she would have no issue. However, because Emrys was pretty good with Transfiguration and he had explained it was a subject that took a lot of concentration and Professor Skies furthered this belief when she told them just how difficult the class would be. She was expected to progress slower in this class than her other classes? Caelia wanted to laugh, that almost certainly meant she would not be progressing at all.

When they were set loose to begin their practice, Caelia let out a sigh. She had chosen a pretty light blue shoelace as the dress she was wearing under her school robes was a similar shade only in pink—pastels were her favorite. She carefully appraised the offensive object before dutifully filling out her transfiguration table. Even though it was a work she didn’t think she was enjoying very much Caelia also realized she would need all the help she could get when it came to doing this and painstakingly detailed exactly what she wanted into the table. Once she was down describing how she wanted a wider, softer ribbon in probably a pale green, she placed the ribbon on the table and read over her work carefully. She wondered if she was supposed to think of all the elements at once or only one at a time. It had to be at once, she decided, even if that did seem more complicated. If she thought of the elements separately wouldn’t that be the same thing as casting several different sorts of spells to change the shoelace into a ribbon?

She puckered her forehead and thought really hard, trying to figure out if what she had just mentally decided made any sense at all. She was so used to being wrong or saying stupid things that she didn’t want to trust herself and decided that she would ask Emrys that question later that night at dinner as he had promised her to eat together for the first week of school. For now though she would have to make do without him and so she raised her wand and prepared herself to begin the spell. It was at that moment, however, that her neighbor decided to talk to her. Caelia held in the sigh that wanted to escape as Grandmother Viviane had told her it was rude to sigh at other people, but she still felt exasperated since now she would have an audience to watch her while she inevitably messed up. However, it seemed that the other girl was having trouble too and Caelia allowed herself to breathe easier. If her neighbor was unable to do the spell too then perhaps she wouldn’t be too much of a spectacle when she turned in a barely transfigured shoelace at the end of the period.

“Oh, I haven’t tried my spell yet,” Caelia replied, her clear voice mixed with an apologetic tone. “I was filling out my transfiguration table.” She gestured to the paper beside her and felt a little embarrassed that it was filled out in such detail. She wasn’t by any means smart but had thought if she tried hard enough and wished equally hard enough then perhaps that would be enough to help her complete the assignment. “I’m Caelia Lucan, of the Massachusetts Lucans. What about you?” She knew that she would be meeting non-society children while at school and knew that she would probably have to be courteous to them but she hoped that perhaps she might find a proper friend in her first week so that she would have at least one close person to talk to that belonged to the same group as she did. The first night there she had talked with Alistair Johnson who was definitely the right sort but he was a boy and Caelia wanted a girl to share things with.

After her neighbor replied, Caelia smiled politely and raised her wand slightly. “I guess I had better try the spell out myself, hadn’t I?” She could only stall for so long before the professor would notice. The first two times she tried the spell nothing happened at all, but the third time, when Caelia thought about the pretty ribbons her grandmother had bought her at a fair in India and their lovely texture, the shoelace flattened out to a wider shape like she had wanted it to and also seemed to be of a smoother texture. The color was mottled, in some areas it was definitely a pastel green while in others it was still the original blue and yet in others it was a crude mix of the two. Caelia blushed at the outburst of magic that had occurred. She had never done anything so well in her life before that didn’t pertain to knowing which fork to use at a formal dinner party and in what order and she kind of embarrassed to have gotten the spell when her neighbor hadn’t. “Oh,” she said her surprise clearly on her face. “I’ve never been any good at school work before, I can’t imagine why that would work like it did just now.” She puckered her forehead slightly, cheeks a little pink. “I was just thinking of some nice ribbons that my grandmother had bought for me and that was the result.” She smiled more warmly than she had when her neighbor gave her name at the nice memory.

OOC: Yes, that was accidental magic... If you can't tell Caelia isn't too bright and she probably thinks she purposely succeeded with the spell XD

10 Caelia Lucan If you try sometimes... 307 Caelia Lucan 0 5

Caelia Lucan, Crotalus

January 29, 2015 6:23 AM

Oops, forgot to include house! (nm) by Caelia Lucan, Crotalus

10 Caelia Lucan, Crotalus Oops, forgot to include house! (nm) 307 Caelia Lucan, Crotalus 0 5

Kelsey

January 29, 2015 12:18 PM

Well, maybe for you. by Kelsey

Although she felt disgusted when she realized who was addressing her, Kelsey maintained her mask of composure. She'd taken some special care to put names to faces-as in, identify who was a pureblood-though she wasn't entirely sure which of the improper students this girl was. It didn't especially matter, inappropriate was inappropriate. Impure was impure and it wasn't important which impure student this was so Kelsey hadn't bothered to learn her name, just that she wasn't Jemima or Gia Donovan-not a society family but at least a pure one-and obviously not Caelia, since of course Kelsey could identify her roommate.

Still, she didn't want to be...like Carrie and be out and out insulting. Her cousin had had quite a reputation of nastiness and even the important people hadn't wanted to associate with her. The Crotalus had to be a perfect little lady and that meant being as polite to her inferiors as she could muster. Of course, she would try to get rid of the girl as quickly as she could, neither wanting to spend too much time with a non-pureblood nor have fraternizing with them ruin her reputation and put off potential suitors.

The fact that this girl hadn't paid attention to the lecture only confirmed further her beliefs about the typical classroom behavior of muggleborns-and Pecaris. Pecaris could be intelligent, but they tended not to have the attention span to be all that scholastically inclined. Scarlett was proof of that. Still, the fact that this girl didn't listen meant that she didn't understand how very important what she was learning was. Perhaps none of them would ever use this particular transfiguration-Kelsey couldn't imagine such a girl having interest in wearing ribbons-but they were building blocks to use transfigurations that they would need some day.

The Pecari had to realize that she was no longer in the muggle world and that now she was learning stuff that mattered. How lucky she was to have these gifts, to be rescued from such a barbaric existence, even though she would always be inferior to Kelsey and other purebloods, even non-society ones.

With as much patience as the Crotalus could muster, she replied. "We're filling out these transfiguration tables as a tool to help us learn how to do today's lesson. In order to be able to be successful at turning a shoelace into a ribbon, one must be able to visualize, to know the differences and similarities between the two. " Kelsey paused and continued in a rather condescending tone, though she didn't realize that it was.. "In the future, you might want to pay more careful attention. This is a rather harmless spell, but things will get more dangerous as we progress." She assumed that the Pecari would progress a little, but doubted it would be as much as she and other purebloods did.

11 Kelsey Well, maybe for you. 305 Kelsey 0 5

Jemima

January 31, 2015 3:04 AM

Good by Jemima

“Being used to something and it being ok aren’t always the same. Usually the opposite actually,” she shrugged. If it was something that happened frequently and was good, she thought someone would usually refer to that as something they enjoyed. Things that you ‘got used to’ were things that were, by default, awkward or unpleasant at first.

“Thanks,” she smiled, when he said he wouldn’t do it to her, “I’ll try not to do it again.

“Yeah, their team is really brilliant,” she nodded. She normally might have mentioned that her brother and sister were both on it but as they’d just decided to avoid being The Younger Siblings she kept her mouth closed on the matter, settling for “That’s who I’ll be cheering for if Teppenpaw doesn’t form a team.”

He seemed very into Quidditch, which didn’t necessarily matter, just like he had turned out not to be one of those kinds of Aladrens, but it made her worry that they might not have much in common, or that he would think she was boring.

“Um, yeah, a few,” she commented noncommittally when he asked her about going to Quidditch matches. “The atmosphere is always nice,” she nodded. She liked looking at all the banners and the charms people cast. In fact, people watching the spectators was, for her, often more fun than the match itself.

“Thanks,” she smiled, when he complimented her progress. “As is squashing down the middle,” she nodded at his work. She didn’t really see their achievements as overly different - Jack only having affected a small section of his shoelace too - and so didn’t see why the friendliness shouldn’t go two ways.

13 Jemima Good 304 Jemima 0 5

Sutton

February 02, 2015 6:38 PM

You still get nowhere? by Sutton

Sutton looked at the girl’s transfiguration table and then looked at her blank one with a frown. She probably should have started filling it out, but she didn’t really know what to put. Clearly, the other girl didn’t have such a problem. Maybe she should write down at least something so she didn’t fail completely since she was already having trouble performing the actual spell. What was she supposed to put though? Like how the shoelace looked now? What she going for? What was she going for? A basic ribbon? She wasn’t even trying to change the color. Her blue eyes wandered around the room in a bit of procrastination at having to try the spell again.

Her attention was brought back by the fact that the girl continued to talk. She should probably be courteous and not continue to squirm around. She felt like she had ADHD sometimes. A full introduction meant the girl was more than likely a pureblood. Her paternal grandparents spoke like that, but she didn’t see them much. They hadn’t approved of her father’s marriage to her mother and approved less of the fact that they were divorced, but there were always the holiday obligations in which she had to pretend to be well mannered, which usually failed, as she always seemed to do something that caused embarrassment.

“Sutton Nicolls of the Pennsylvania Nicolls,” she replied, half in amusement at such formalities. Her last name was recognizable as being from a pure line. At least it was until their generation. However, most people at her grandparents’ gatherings were polite for the most part, but that was because of their societal contribution. If her grandparents didn’t own a prominent hospital, she doubted the community would be so forgiving. After all, they weren’t shy about their thoughts on other familial lines and how they’d been tarnished with the introduction of someone considered lesser.

When Caelia stated that she was going to try the spell, Sutton watched to see if the other girl got anywhere with it. Plus, it gave her another moment or so where she didn’t have to attempt it. Of course, it would have helped if Caelia seemed to have any trouble with the spell, but as luck would have it, she seemed to perform it rather easily. “Maybe you’re just a natural,” Sutton told her. “Guess this means I have to try it too.” She wrinkled her nose at the thought. There were a lot of things she’d rather do than this.

Turning her attention to the shoelace, she tried to picture a ribbon she had seen at Hot Topic, one of her favorite stores. It was a black lace one that was gathered in a skull. She bit her lip, trying to really concentrate. “Cordone!” The shoelace didn’t do much other than turn black. She gave a wane smile to the other girl. “Guess, it’s a start, right? I tried doing what you did and pictured a ribbon that I liked.” She jotted down the results on her transfiguration table quickly. “So, what house are you in? I ended up in Pecari. It was crazy how we changed colors when they did the sorting, wasn’t it?”

0 Sutton You still get nowhere? 311 Sutton 0 5

Aislinn

February 02, 2015 7:38 PM

Undoubtedly so. by Aislinn

“Yes, thank you,” Aislinn answered, taking the quill. She had every intention of going back to her work. Partly so she didn’t bother the boy with his work, but mostly because she found no need to actually try to socialize with other people. However, the boy continued to speak and introduce himself, which meant that she was going to be forced to be polite and introduce herself. “Nice to meet you, John. I’m Aislinn Nicolls of the Pennsylvania Nicolls.” She didn’t really have to add the last part, but she wanted to sound as grown up as possible since she was talking to an older boy, a second. She wanted to establish that she should be treated as an equal despite being younger.

Besides, she should probably get used to it. Her grandparents were always trying to get her and Sutton to introduce themselves that way, because it was considered the proper way to do so. She wasn’t really concerned with the proprieties of it all, but she wanted to someday work in her grandparents’ hospital as a mediwizard like her father and she knew that her grandparents were very concerned with keeping up appearances. It was apparently important to impress the purebloods, but keep connections open with everyone else. She wasn’t really sure why, but it was the way it was for a reason.

“Oh, I was able to get the texture and size about right. I haven’t tried changing the color or anything. I thought that leaving it the same color would be easiest, but I suppose I should try to change it since it would be more of a challenge.” She didn’t add that it would most likely get her the best grade possible and really she wanted to have the best grade in the class. It didn’t seem the appropriate thing to say, especially to an Aladren since he was probably trying to get the top grade as well. “How is your work progressing?” She looked over to his desk to see what he had done. It was a simple question, but it would determine how her work was in comparison.

0 Aislinn Undoubtedly so. 297 Aislinn 0 5

Caelia Lucan

February 03, 2015 1:35 AM

...you just might find? by Caelia Lucan

As Sutton Nicolls gave her introduction realization on who she was talking to spread slowly but surely. The Nicolls name rang a bell instantly and she thought that perhaps she had heard “Sutton” too in passing conversation between her grandmother and her grandmother’s tea friends. The Nicolls family had been on the list oher grandmother had asked her to learn and she also knew that though she was to treat the Nicolls grandchildren with kindness due to their grandparent’s contributions to society, she was allowed to privately and in the comfort of her own home with her own family think whatever she pleased about them. And Grandmother Viviane had made it clear that despite their family’s contributions the Nicolls were no longer the Right Sort that Caelia should find herself especially close with. However, she made sure to not reveal her inner dialogue to Sutton. If there was anything Caelia could be considered a master in, it was the ability to be a perfect lady which of course entailed the ability to manipulate one’s facial features into a look of happiness in a less than tasteful situation or a sad face if the appropriate scenario were to arise. However, she was unsure what to say next and instead smiled warmly, turning back to her wand in preparation for the spell.

Sutton’s complement, despite it’s coming from the Wrong Sort was well received as Caelia wasn’t quite used to being praised for her schoolwork and the resulting blush and smile was 100% genuine. “I’m sure you’ll be able to do it if you concentrate hard enough,” Caelia said politely, trying to encourage the girl who had just given her a very nice complement. “Just think of—” Caelia’s soft voice died off as she watched Sutton try the spell again. This time it was a better improvement as something had actually happened so she gave the other girl another smile. “That was better, I suppose.” She felt awkward, being in the position of grasping a topic quickly as it wasn’t one she was used to and so when Sutton steered the conversation away from the subject of the lesson and to small talk—Caelia would much rather exchange light pleasantries with the Wrong Sort than discuss school with the Right Sort anyway, she was glad.

Now, perhaps if Caelia was a smarter girl she would have wondered at Sutton’s lack of deductive reasoning—even if all the students wore the same forest green colored robe, they still had their house emblem on the front making it clear who was in what house. But as that wasn’t something Caelia herself had really fully taken into account (she realized, yes, that her robes had a Crotalus emblem and her brother’s Aladren, but it wasn’t something that had completely registered). “Crotalus,” she replied, thinking that if the other girl was anything to judge by the entirety of Pecari was probably full of the Wrong Sort who liked to bounce too much. “And though I did like the red color, on the whole I do wish it hadn’t stayed for as long as it did—too bright and showy for my taste, anyway.”

Caelia took a moment to look over her table as if she was studying it for any error while she tried to decide if she wanted to continue the conversation or not. Certainly she had been polite and convincingly friendly, but surely that was all that was expected of her? However, curiosity got the better of her and as she liked to talk, Caelia decided that one conversation with a girl of inferior birth during class because they happened to sit next to each other was permissible, especially since being a Nicolls made the whole Wrong Sort deal slightly less of a problem. “So,” she said, as she turned back to Sutton, her mind made up. “What is Pecari like? I’ve not talked to many people outside of Crotalus myself, save for my brother but he’s in Aladren.” So far, Caelia had decided that Crotalus was the best house since it had the prettiest combination of colors and was made up of a lot of the Right Sort, but Aladren was a close second since Emrys was there. “The Crotalus common room is quite nice and cozy and I do enjoy my dorm room—the bed in particular is very comfortable.”

10 Caelia Lucan ...you just might find? 307 Caelia Lucan 0 5

John

February 06, 2015 9:29 AM

Difficult, but rewarding. by John

The formal introduction Aislinn Nicolls offered was not a form John had ever heard before he came to Sonora, but it was one he had heard people offer each other more than a few times since then. The main thing those people all seemed to have in common was being Americans (he had, happily, managed to avoid encounters with the type back home, so he didn't know if the Canadian ones did so as well; he supposed hoping that if they did, they were at least the ones who’d invented it was patriotism) who’d refer to themselves as having ‘pure’ blood. This made them sound to him rather like a species of talking showdogs, a comparison that started feeling less like a comparison when he thought about how they apparently really did breed their relatives like livestock.

No such efforts had gone into arranging the situation which ended with John on the face of the planet, and he was pretty sure (given that at five, he’d still been completely illiterate, poorly socialized, and come with a Squib brother) that his parents hadn’t imagined they were investing in much of a pedigree when they took him in. They would have both had to be completely delusional to imagine his original surname was anything to brag about, much less brag about so much that he made a point of telling everyone where he was from so they didn’t get him confused with any of those low-rent other People of Surname, and he thought his parents were about as sane as any people who’d raised five kids could be. He also thought they were as good as or better than anyone else’s parents, which made the tendency of the talking showdogs to look down on them both because Mom was Muggleborn just one of those things that really annoyed him. The assumption that genealogy was supposed to tell something about a person didn’t do much for his temper, either.

“Good for you,” he said, his tone and expression both bland.

He did not offer up his own surname or the fact that he was from the Canadian province of Alberta. This seemed like as good a test for new acquaintances as any. Those who acted snotty could be safely dismissed, but the others might be secretly sane people whose parents were just complete morons. A year’s observation made him think some of the kids might really not be that bad, or at least might have the potential not to be….

His opinion of Pennsylvania Aislinn improved a bit when she said she wanted to make the work more challenging. “Transfiguration’s good for that,” he said. “You can always push it a little further...anyway, I haven’t figured out where the end point is yet.” There had to be one - they were not gods - but he thought it would be a few more years before he figured it out. In his last year at home, it had sometimes taken a deliberate effort not to reach out and experiment with what he could do, an effort which had felt about as natural as doing everything with one hand tied behind his back (John refused to be one of those wizards who couldn’t get out of a paper bag without using a spell, but he’d been born able to use magic the same as he’d been born with two hands, and could, to the occasional confusion of adults, do most things besides write with his weaker hand, even preferring it for some tasks), but his level of control hadn’t progressed as fast as he would have liked since he got to school and the freedom to practice all he liked. Case in point, his twig-ribbon.

“It’s...progressing,” he said, looking at the widely-spaced threads. “I defined my terms before I started - “ he pointed to his sheet of notes - “and I got this from, er, working with the definition of ‘fiber’ and what I remember about the structure of plant cells. It’ll work eventually - I was looking at how this - “ he plucked at his sleeve - “works to revise the visualization when you dropped your pen.” He glanced at her ribbon. Texture and size. Texture was surface - the same substance could have different textures, depending on what was done to it. Size change might be explained several ways - multiplicative magic, which he’d only read about in his sister’s textbooks but thought the rest of them might perform on a small scale in sometimes, or just stretching charms of some kind - if the substance remained consistent and the upper layer was - smoothed out, or just that was Transfigured - was there a spell to test the internal consistency of their products?

He picked up his pen, wanting to write it all down so he could remember to write his mom to ask, but remembered in time that he was talking to someone else right now. "Texture and size - that's interesting," he said. "Are you aiming for a specific new fabric or for those changes?" That wasn't exactly what he wanted to ask, though. "I mean - how are you defining 'ribbon'?" he asked. "What's the quality that makes a ribbon instead of a shoelace - like I got a rope-thing the first time I tried it, because the spell made me think of cord - cords are twisted, ribbons are flat - but shoelaces can be either...."

16 John Difficult, but rewarding. 285 John 0 5

Ginger

February 17, 2015 4:12 PM

What do you think of "Moving Right Along" by the Muppets? by Ginger

Ginger grinned back at the other girl's enthusiastic approval of her favorite color. For one thing, it was awesome that Anna Clarissa thought it was awesome. For another, Anna Clarissa showed every appearance of knowing what cotton candy was, so she actually knew what Ginger had been talking about, both with the color and the television show.

Making a mental note of Anna Clarissa's name - and the fact that she thought Anna by itself was boring - Ginger expanded upon her own name's origin. "Gilligan's Island," she admitted with only a small amount of embarrassment. "Most of my family have names from 70s pop culture." She grinned a bit self-deprecatingly, "We're a bunch of hippies. I mean that. Really. We have peace signs painted on our RVs and flowers in our hair and all that. Four of my uncles even have a Beatles tribute band." She did not mention that their names were actually John, Paul, George, and Ringo, but it did rather prove her point.

Ginger looked back at her ribbon, frowning slightly in concentration. "Well, let's try this again. More color, more width." She traced out the flowing wand motion for a third time and cast, "CordonAY!" once more. This time it was a lot easier to imagine transforming the mostly-done ribbon into a fully done ribbon, and the color brightened to the intended Teppenpaw yellow while the ribbon widened to about twice the width of the shoelace. Even the textured braiding that was common to shoelaces but not a normal part of a ribbon smoothed out to a much more uniform weave.

Ginger sat back, looking very pleased with herself. "There we go. That looks better, doesn't it?"

1 Ginger What do you think of "Moving Right Along" by the Muppets? 302 Ginger 0 5

Aislinn

February 23, 2015 6:55 PM

That it is. by Aislinn

When John pointed to his sheet, Aislinn leaned in a bit further to read it. She was curious to see what kind of work a second year was doing, but when he mentioned the structure of plant cells, she glanced at him a bit in shock before it changed to one of delight. Even if he was overall competition, the ability to discuss such matters with someone was a wonderful change of pace from those she had gone to school with previously. “Changing from a twig is definitely a bit more challenging given that you’re going from a completely different structure due to the cell wall. It’s rather rigid. Perhaps, if you focus on getting rid of that, it will give you the flexibility you need for an overall change?”

She wasn’t sure if what she said made sense to him or not and it was something that she felt that she would have to do further research to truly be able to present as possibility, but questions were always the starting point to any experiment. Perhaps, one day she would present a thesis in the basis of transfiguration. She could see it now, something along the lines of transfiguring the DNA of cells in order to manipulate them to perform other functions. Of course, at this point in time, she had no idea how this would actually be feasible or even how to go about such a thing, but again, it was just a starting point and something to think about for the future.

Aislinn thought for a moment on what John asked. “Well, a shoelace usually isn’t as flat as a ribbon. At least, I think so. Although, some shoes do use ribbons for laces, but overall, I think the ribbon tends to be flatter. But you are right that it is a loose definition. Specifically, I would say that the shoelace can be lengthened by repositioning the molecules and And maybe the texture could be dependent on the closeness of that positioning. Now, the color could be more difficult, because biologically speaking, color isn’t just dependent on positioning, but rather an actual genetic function. So, I’m not quite sure how to account for that. Any thoughts?”

0 Aislinn That it is. 297 Aislinn 0 5

John

February 25, 2015 5:16 PM

One of my favorite things to do. by John

John blinked in surprise when Pennsylvania Aislinn seemed at familiar with at least the concept of cell walls. Her introduction suggested she was one of Them, but he didn’t think They usually knew such things….

“Could,” he acknowledged.

Or, he thought, he could end up with a puddle of translucent goo on his desk, either because he sometimes over-did it (Transfiguration took a good bit of energy to complete, but also a high level of control over its application, and John did not reliably have that yet. Sometimes he had a feather when he needed a feather and a hammer when he needed a hammer, but at other times, using magic felt like trying to use one and looking down at the last minute to find the other in his hand, and swinging a hammer when he needed to place a feather just so was as useless as dropping a feather when he needed to swing a hammer) or because of unknown factors arising from him thinking on that level when he really didn’t know the physical properties of either wood or fabric that well. That was the kind of problem he ran into a lot. Magic seemed to function similarly, in one way at least, to how he’d read that computers did over the summer while researching more secure ways to encode his letters and personal notebooks: it did what he told it to do, which was not necessarily what he wanted it to do. Not yet, anyway….

His thoughts ran on, moving further and further away from the word he’d spoken, speeding toward charmswork. He tried to reel them back in, if only so he could communicate meaningfully and with passable grammar.

“Since I’ve already got it to threads, though, I was thinking – “ he pointed to his sleeve. “Weaving looks like a lot of tiny rectangles, yeah? So do cells all together, like this.” He pointed to the rough drawing of plant cells he’d put in his notes earlier. “I thought of trying to use that….” He paused for a moment, another thought occurring to him. “But now I don’t think that’ll work,” he finished abruptly. “Because each thread is a whole thread. I’d end up with a gazillion tiny pieces of thread and I don’t even know if that would turn back into a stick after.”

Now he wanted to know, though. He wasn’t totally sure it would refrain from exploding, though, so he decided not to try it on purpose right now. The Gardens, as far as he could tell, had been made just so students could try out things that might explode in relative safety and privacy, and he’d spent five years studying how to get around out of doors, so being in a maze didn’t bother him that much. He usually just remembered the way that he’d come, but trusted in his ability to find his way out again even if he forgot the details of how he’d gotten in for some reason.

Aislinn’s thoughts on the difference between ribbons and shoelaces seemed to concur with his – more or less. “Color’s probably – artificial? Most cloth is dyed, right? It’s not naturally this.” He pointed to his green sleeve again. “That’s adding an element.” Which reminded him of another definition of ‘element,’ which reminded him of what she’d said about her Transfiguration plan. “Molecules – so I guess you’re keeping it the same fabric? Might need to be careful with that, make sure you’re not just…stretching, changing the size, since that’s Charms.” Which raised a new question in his mind: Transfiguration was molecular manipulation, which gave him interesting thoughts about possible limits on what could be transfigured and into what, but if the molecules remained of the same kind they were – could that be the difference between Transfiguration and Charms, put into scientific terms instead of philosophical ones? Maybe Mom would know; he would have to do some more reading and write to her….

16 John One of my favorite things to do. 285 John 0 5

Sutton

February 26, 2015 11:06 PM

Distractions? by Sutton

The question on what Pecari was like took Sutton off guard for a moment. She hadn’t really had much interaction with her peers, which one would think that she would have at least interacted with the females since they shared a room. However, she could speak on the general subject of what Pecari was like. “It’s rather rambunctious. Full of excitement. The actual colors don’t really match up though. They’re kind of boring. I thought they would be a little more interesting like maybe using fuchsia.”

Even though, she tended towards wearing darker colors, Sutton actually loved bright colors, but they tended to be the really bright colors like intense reds, pinks, and purples. She also liked grays and silvers mixed in. And using a dark base like black made them stand out more in her opinion. Of course, she definitely wasn’t bold enough to actually wear any of these choices. She figured that people would just make fun of her if she actually tried to. Her outfits were more in the form of blacks or earthy colors, which worked well for the robes they had to wear. Like today, under her robes, she was wearing olive colored carpenter pants, a button down plaid shirt in olive and tan, and black boots. All in all, it was a classical outfit for her.

“The beds are comfortable enough though. It’s more comfortable than my bed back home, but I guess maybe that’s cause it’s not as fancy. It’s smaller and set up higher cause I have storage underneath it.” Her hands gestured in an effort to describe the way the bed sat, because it wasn’t as high as a loft bed, but it sat up higher than a regular bed to allow for the storage underneath. “I put most of my stuff there so it’s not all over the room. It’s still a mess however. My mom is constantly telling me to clean it up. The good part is I don’t have to store my drums there cause they’re in the garage. Do you play anything?”

That was part of the downside of coming to Sonora. She had had to leave her drums behind. She was pretty sure her roommates wouldn’t have appreciated her banging around on them all the time. They were noisy even for Pecari. And since she left them behind, it meant mixing out on valuable practice time. She had still brought her drumsticks with her so she could work on her timing. It was at least something. Of course, it wasn’t anything like being able to practice religiously. She worried that the lack of practice would leave her rusty, but there was little she could do about it. Unless, maybe the MARS area provided her with such an area. She had heard Aislinn talking about the place before along with the history and everything else. Her sister was such a nerd. If they didn’t look alike, she wouldn’t even believe tht they were related.

0 Sutton Distractions? 311 Sutton 0 5

Aislinn

February 27, 2015 12:07 AM

Quite an interesting discussion. by Aislinn

Aislinn’s head tilted while listening to his thought process and she nodded when it abruptly changed. “Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe you are on the right track. Maybe if you use the weaving pattern, it would work, because then each one would account for the individual cell? Unless, you just go by the twig having natural fibers and do it that way? Like not going into as much depth?” That was probably an odd thing for her to say given that she had a tendency to overthink. It was part of what made her entire existence. The inane amount of questioning. The thinking and coming to a conclusion and rethinking and coming to another conclusion. The ability to think of many different paths, but now, maybe it was over thinking. Maybe?

Aislinn blushed a little when John pointed out that the color would most likely be artificial. It was a bit of an embarrassment to make such a mistake among a fellow Aladren. “Of course, it would be artificial in this case. I was getting ahead of myself and thinking about living things, which would have the color be within the DNA. But in theory, even in a living creature, it should be a relative easy color change if you’re going on the idea that it’s dye-able.” It made sense given that people could easily dye their hair using makeup charms, but then, that went more into Charms than into Transfiguration.

She thought for a moment on what he asked in regards to keeping the same fabric. Would it be more like Charms? “Well, I suppose it would work similar to water. When water molecules come together in a tighter arrangement, you get ice, which changes the form. And when they are in a looser arrangement, they become gas. So, I suppose with the fabric, it would be changing it into a different form of the fabric instead of changing it into a completely new fabric. But you think that’s more into Charms?” She paused for a moment in thought. It was all becoming rather complicated. “Transfiguration and Charms have quite a few similarities. Perhaps, they’re interdependent? Or maybe it’s just different in approach?”

Or maybe not. She had read that Transfiguration was more scientific based while Charms was based more in creativity. So, Transfiguration was like science so this should be easier. Charms was more like art and she had never done well in that class. It was something about the creativity part. She didn’t like the whole baring your soul sort of thing. She didn’t like putting how she felt on display. It was easier to put thoughts on display. There was less to criticize. It was more based in having an opinion or an idea and supporting it with fact. As long as you could put fact to it, there wasn’t much that could be argued with. Anything creative was subjective. She didn’t like it at all.

0 Aislinn Quite an interesting discussion. 297 Aislinn 0 5