Professor Olivers

August 25, 2014 12:46 AM
A new school year meant new faces, new names to memorize, and, as per usual at Sonora, a new professor to welcome into their midst. It kept things interesting. The summer had been well-spent in Chicago with her nephews, niece, and their children. She and her brother were getting old, but neither of them let age stop them from doing what they wanted. Florence had been given an opportunity to act in a friend's play and she had made her relationship with Nicholas official. She never could have imagined having a boyfriend at fifty-one, not to mention a romance with anyone after her husband’s death, but she had come to realize that the death of a loved one did not mean life stopped indefinitely. No, life went on and Florence was obliged to continue with it. And since she had made the decision to move on, to become a professor and to once again pursue theatre, her life had become substantially happier.

Several weeks had passed since the beginning of the term and Florence had fallen into a comfortable schedule. She and Nick kept up a regular correspondence, and a letter from him had arrived just that morning; it was unthinkable to leave the letter unopened on her desk while she taught her classes. She had read it over twice before her first class. Florence didn’t want Nick to distract her from her work, but during the passing periods she imagined what she would write back to him. Something romantic? Simple? Funny? Dramatic? These were the thoughts that mulled around in her mind as the intermediate class began trickling in.

It was three minutes over, and while Florence was normally a very punctual woman, she was feeling merciful. She let two more minutes past, but at the five shut the door. Five minutes extra was more than enough for those who dared to come late to her class knowing the consequences—that is, detention. Today her ensemble consisted of comfortable forest green robes and a feathered cap on top of her short dark hair to match. It was conservative for her, but she tended to dress a little more conservatively these days. Maybe it had to do with her age.

“Good morning, class,” she said, the words rolling out of her mouth like silk. “I’m sure you’re wondering what those things are.” As a half-blood, Florence had come into contact with tools and contraptions from both the wizarding and muggle worlds. Half of the room looked like a batting cage would. There were three different stations with machines that spit out three different types of balls at chest level. It would be a fun lesson so long as no one got hurt.

“Yesterday we learned a spell that slowed down or stopped the movement of an object. Today we will put that knowledge to the test. You all will be using that spell to slow down or stop the movement of the balls that are thrown at you.” During the last class she had given a lecture on Aresto Momentum, the spell that slowed or stopped the movement of an object. Today they would be using that spell to defend themselves. The balls wouldn’t be coming too hard at them. At the worst, the softball might leave a bruise if the fifth-years weren’t fast enough, but Florence was confident in their abilities; they should be, after all, competent and comfortable enough with their wand and spellwork as the oldest group of the class.

Florence gestured to the netted side of the room. “There are three separate stations. Third years, please step in front of the net with the larger machine. Fourth years, in front of this netted area, and fifth years, please stand in front of this one. In a straight line, please.” Once everyone had lined themselves up behind their respective stations, Florence walked over to stand next to the line of fifth-years. “One by one, please take your turn in the cage. Once you are inside, a ball will be shot at you. A beach ball will be thrown at the third-years, a Quaffle for the fourth-years, and a softball for the fifth-years. Your job is to use the spell to slow down or stop the movement of the ball. I will demonstrate.” Florence stepped into the fifth-years’ cage and faced the machine; it sat about one hundred feet away. She had to wait three seconds before a ball spit out at her. “Aresto Momentum!” The force of the spell caused the ball to stop in midair and drop to the ground; Florence’s reflexes weren’t as quick as they once had been, but the softball still had only made it halfway.

She picked up the softball and tossed it into the basket on top of the machine. “When you finish with the ball, put it into the basket that sits on top of the machine. It automatically takes the balls from there.” Florence stepped out of the cage. Her practical lessons were always pushing on the extreme to test her students: she had once made the advanced class walk through fire for the Flame-Freezing Charm. A machine spitting balls at the students was really only indicative of Florence’s way of teaching. It was a side that showed only in her intermediate and advanced classes. “If you feel confident to take on a smaller ball, move to the next line. Please don’t overestimate your ability. I’d hate for anyone to get hurt.” With that, Florence clapped her hands. “The first person, please step into the cage and begin.” She would keep an eye on them, correcting their form or encouraging them.

OOC: As per usual, 200 words minimum. Creative, realistic posts are worth more points. No one should break a bone if a Quaffle or softball hits them as the balls are not going that fast to begin with, but bruises are okay if they miss. If Florence is needed, tag Professor Olivers in the tagline. Remember to please include your house with your name!
Subthreads:
0 Professor Olivers Let's Slow Things Down [III, IV, V years] 0 Professor Olivers 1 5


Charlotte Spencer

August 28, 2014 3:41 PM
Charms had always been Charlotte's preferred course next to Transfiguration. The two, in her mind, went hand-in-hand. The two professors were her favourite as well. Professor Olivers had the most interesting fashion choices that somehow worked together, not to mention her classes were some of the most interesting, and Professor Skies was a lovely professor who taught her subject well. In either case, Charlotte was looking forward to today's class. Charms was simple enough and she caught on fairly quickly.

There was some strange netting on the other side of the classroom, but she paid no attention to it. Perhaps there was some exercise involving throwing things at the nets. The charm they had learnt last class had been useful enough, but not exactly the sort of spell Charlotte could see herself using often.

Professor Olivers began class and as soon as she revealed what today's lesson was going to be, Charlotte's mouth went dry. They were going to have balls thrown at them by some sort of machine? Charlotte's chest was tightening up and her head was spinning as she floated to her line. They weren't simply going to have balls thrown at them, but Quaffles. There ought to be some sort of merciful being to just allow Charlotte to faint and escape class.

Nothing of the sort happened, however, and Charlotte continued to move forward in line as soon as the activity began. What sort of terrible professor would subject their students to this torture? She could feel her heart racing in her chest; her hands were shaking and her face sported a deathly pallor the closer she moved to the net. "I'm going to die," she squeaked. "How could Professor Olivers do this to us?" Charlotte wanted Adam to get her out of this situation, to talk some sense into their mad professor, but it was almost too late. Her line was moving much too quickly for her comfort. She wanted to ask the person behind her to go ahead of her, but her intense shyness prevented her from doing so. This, all in all, was the sort of situation Charlotte had always wanted to avoid. Not only was she going to be hit by a Quaffle, she was going to be hit by a Quaffle in front of all her classmates.

It was her turn next and Charlotte's hands were shaking so terribly she could hardly hold her wand properly. She stepped into the net, feeling so incredibly woozy she wondered if she would faint. She had never fainted before, however, and it didn't seem as though her body would cooperate with her now either. In a split second, Charlotte watched the machine spit out a Quaffle right at her and her mind went blank. All she could think was to protect herself. Her reaction, therefore, was to duck as soon as possible and cover her head. She did so, nearly throwing herself to the side and crouching down with her hands over her head, and heard the Quaffle hit the back of the netting. She was still alive.

As the adrenaline continued to race in her system, the result of her actions sparked sudden embarrassment. She had just dodged a Quaffle in front of her classmates instead of facing it head-on. Charlotte's pallor changed as the blood went roaring into her face, turning her cheeks an unbearable shade of red. She bowed her head and made her way quickly to the back of the line, wanting to cry. Now everyone would know she was a coward. This was torture at its best for someone like her. Charlotte couldn't even use a proper spell to defend herself and she was a blooming fourth year. What an embarrassment. Her blonde hair created a slightly open curtain around her face as she stared at the floor, enough to hide her red cheeks.
40 Charlotte Spencer Is this what they call an anxiety attack? 265 Charlotte Spencer 0 5


Charlotte Spencer

August 28, 2014 3:43 PM
Forgot to add the house, sorry.
40 Charlotte Spencer OOC: Crotalus 265 Charlotte Spencer 0 5

Serena Brockert, Teppenpaw

September 03, 2014 1:24 AM
Serena was kind of excited for classes this year. This year was the only year that she and Gemma would be in the same ones and she hoped to get to work with the older Teppenpaw this term. Plus, Oliver Ferguson wasn't going to be in them and when it came to Transfiguration, that was a huge relief. That was actually one class she wasn't looking forward to no matter who else was there. She felt horribly inadequate. Serena still wasn't getting it on the first try and she was sure there was something terribly wrong with her. How could she possibly be ready for the next level in that?

She did not, however, feel that way about any other class, even though she was really not that fond of DADA. Honestly, that...was actually another class that Serena wasn't looking forward to. Scarier, darker things and classmates-some of whom were older and knew more about magic than she did-throwing hexes at her? Somehow that didn't really appeal much to the third year. In fact, she was rather worried that she was going to make a fool of herself in both classes.

Charms, however, had never presented her with too many problems.It was probably Serena's favorite class, actually. There was less pressure and nothing really scary. Well, she supposed Professor Olivers could be scary if she was mad at you, but that never really happened to the Teppenpaw. She just wasn't inclined to make trouble at all. Besides, even though the Charms instructor was strict, Serena liked her. The fact that she'd once been an actress was really cool. The third year would never want to be one herself, she wasn't crazy about performing in front of others, but she loved going to the theater and now that she was thirteen, she was allowed to go more often when she was home.

The professor always had really interesting clothing too. Exotic and unique, Serena supposed there was less pressure on Professor Olivers to dress a certain way than there would be on herself. She wasn't a member of proper society and she'd been an actress, which meant that a certain amount of eccentricity was to be expected.

It was, however, a little unsettling when the usually punctuation crazy professor was late and then still didn't shut the door and start class. Nor was she dressed as flamboyantly as usual, though she had on a feathered hat that Serena would have never had the nerve to wear. The Teppenpaw really didn't want to stand out and risk ridicule or embarass her family any more than she already did in Transfiguration.

However, the differences in Professor Olivers' clothing and mannerisms-she probably just had something else on her mind anyway-were not nearly as disturbing as what she said the lesson was going to be. Balls flying at them that they were supposed to stop? Serena couldn't really prevent anxiety from building in her stomach. She hadn't had any problems with the spell, but that was without things speeding towards her.

She felt slightly relieved when she saw the beach ball. It was not only bigger which was likely why it was chosen for the third years who generally had easier activities going by what her older cousins and sister had said, but it didn't look as....painful to get hit with if she wasn't successful with the spell. Serena didn't know what a softball was, but when she glanced over at it, it...didn't look very soft at all. She was really glad to be a third year. Quaffles weren't something she wanted to be hit with either. Not that she really wanted to be hit with anything .

Serena, not one to ever rush into anything, found herself towards the back of the line. When it was her turn, she raised her wand. "Aresto Momentum" The ball slowed and paused, before returning to its full speed, which was still not very fast. The Teppenpaw was about to go and catch it when she spotted Charlotte. The older girl seemed...more than just upset. She didn't really look well at all. Serena abandoned the beach ball and walked over to her. "Are you okay?" The Teppenpaw asked.
11 Serena Brockert, Teppenpaw I believe so. 272 Serena Brockert, Teppenpaw 0 5