Professor Aylin Morastus
August 17, 2009 5:43 PM
Lesson for First and Second Years- by Professor Aylin Morastus
A parchment lay out on her desk, it’s corners bent from being handled time and time again, the writing on it in a large, slanted script, belying the hurried hand with which the first draft had been scribbled. A finger trailed down this parchment, barely making contact with the surface as Aylin scanned over it, silently mouthing the words she read when she noticed the slight tremble in her hand. Sighing, she drew her hand into a tight fist and then stretched it out, to find the tremble still present. Four years and she still had not found a way to avoid the inevitable. No one had ever noticed, save the few that found themselves close enough to her as to rub arms, but the trembling of her hands that matched the nervous energy in her veins annoyed her to no end. Leaning forward in her chair, she lifted the lid on a small ceramic jar sitting on the corner of her desk as the faint sound of footsteps and muffled voices began to fill the corridor outside. Pulling out a cinnamon candy, she popped it in her mouth, replacing the lid just as the door opened.When the last student had taken a seat, she stood, coming out from behind the desk to walk amongst the tables as she spoke. Her light auburn hair was yet again straining to escape the knot pinning it up, several strands already successful as her hazel eyes scanned the room. “Good morning, I’m Professor Morastus, your new Potions teacher.” Most eyes followed her, others didn’t; she knew better than to worry about where their eyes were focused so much as how attentive their ears were. Her hands were often clasped in front of her, tucked tightly against her bronze colored robes, but occasionally they released one another to trace the edge of a shelf or table as she passed by, her eyes shifting from her students momentarily to the jars of ingredients and equipment she had yet to organize.
“I believe you have all found seats you are comfortable with by now, and we shall keep this arrangement unless you give me cause to change it.” A small grin. “So if you would, please use your wand to write your full name on the table in front of you.” As they did, they would find it fade as quickly as it had appeared, their signature transferred to the parchment sitting on the podium next to her own table by the board.
“Good,” Aylin exclaimed with a faint clap, her feet quickly carrying her to the podium where she looked over the seating parchment, pleased to see it filled in completely, for she would record attendance later, and pointed her wand at the board where the name of a potion, a page number, and time frame were now displayed. “Today we will cover the Forgetfulness Potion. Turn to page 32 in your texts for the ingredients and instructions. However, I do recommend you take out a quill to note the following…”
On a table before the board sat several examples, each being picked up in turn as Aylin went over some of the finer points before they began. “When mincing the fluxweed, it’s best to do so very finely, like so.” Taking her own silver knife, she demonstrated the technique. “Be sure to measure the sumac extract in a glass vial, and do not under any circumstances let anything metal touch it. The doxy blood must be added by single droplets every odd stir after it is reduced to a low simmer.” Pausing, she waited until the quills slowed or stopped altogether before finishing. “Alright then, begin. You have 90 minutes to submit your samples in the case next to my desk.”
OOC: There’s many a loophole for creativity here, so surprise me! Though a canon potion for first years, no details are given for it, so I gave you a few to begin with, after that, use your imagination. As for any potential problems.. I’ll leave that to you to. Have fun!
Subthreads: Potioning (and making up new words) by Daniel Nash II with Adelita Garcia (Crotalus), Lita
Why yes, I do pull my ideas from thin air! by Nathaniel Leon with Jose Hernandez, Nathaniel, David Lancaster, Professor Morastus
This can't be that hard, can it? by Andrew Duell with Jethro Smythe, Jethro
250 different species of sumac to choose from; hmm. . . by Euna Song with Quentin Melcher
Excellent: a <i>useful</i> lesson indeed. by Mike Song with Charlotte Abbott
Looking for a partner by Pippa Brockert with Edmond Carey
Late, but I have a goal to meet. by Marissa Stephenson
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Professor Aylin Morastus
Lesson for First and Second Years-
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Professor Aylin Morastus
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Nathaniel Leon
August 18, 2009 3:44 PM
Why yes, I do pull my ideas from thin air! by Nathaniel Leon
He loved coming back to Sonora after Midterm, there was always a grand surprise. A new potions teacher, a new one. Understandably, Nathaniel Leon was excited, understandably because Nathaniel Leon was always excited, especially when something new was going to happen. The twelve-year-old hardly acted twelve-years-old, ever, and each response of his was quite similar to a child tasting something good for the first time. This is the greatest thing to happen, EVER! At least until the next new thing rolled in and captured his interest like a shiny golden ball. But the new Potions teacher, How cool! was his reaction, and also, This is the greatest thing to happen, EVER! For the moment, at least.Nathaniel sat near the front, he was no good student, but he liked to see things. Not the lesson, but the teacher (the new teacher), the way she acted, the expressions her face took on, all of that was what Nathaniel watched for. You couldn’t see that well near the back. Each thing she said, as well, was met with a jumpy happiness from Nathaniel, Oh, she sounds like all the other teachers. But she’s got something new, I know she’s got something, and even though it was same-old-same-old, he treated it like his first time in school as he scribbled his name on the desk as she’d asked.
Nathaniel Leon. Written in childish scrawl. A little heart dotting the “i” in his name, the “t” crossing though everything in a swirl. The baby-blue letters disappeared, and he was left grinning at desk, waiting for something new. The lesson, again, was same-old make-a-potion-kids. But, since the actual potion was new, it was fantastic to Nathaniel, and he nearly giggled thinking of making a forgetfulness potion. Though, that would be sad, forgetting things, he wouldn’t want to forget anything, unless they were very unpleasant.
Across a sheet of paper, he wrote simply, please don’t test this on any animals or unwilling people, thank you Professor! and stuck it on one of the vials he’d brought to class. Hm, he looked to the Professor, catching the last bit of her sentence, realizing he’d missed something (probably important)… “… after its reduced to a low simmer.” Do what? But she didn’t repeat herself, and Nathaniel chose to not look stupid by asking her what was what. Pushing his longish, tangled hair behind his ears, Nathaniel read the book, looking at what he may have missed, but his eyes skimmed, skipped words, it was hard for him to focus on instructions (they really weren’t interesting enough for him). He just saw the ingredients, the basics for what he needed to do.
And humming a happy tune, he went to work, picking the flower from the fresh flux weed (which he did not buy from a potions shop, but rather the herb and plants shop next door) and putting it in the sideways pocket he sewed to the front of his robes, and began to cut the poor plant into large chunks.
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Nathaniel Leon
Why yes, I do pull my ideas from thin air!
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Nathaniel Leon
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Jose Hernandez
August 18, 2009 4:39 PM
I've got mine up my sleeve. by Jose Hernandez
As Jose Hernandez stepped through the door of the classroom, he grinned as he spotted the new professor. As a first year, it was something of a novelty to no longer be among the most recent arrivals to the school. He had half a year on this lady.Unfortunately, it was potions, so that made it bit less exciting, but it would be interesting to see how she reacted to him. Taking a seat toward the front (the better to be seen in civil disobedience, if necessary), he turned open his notebook and brought out his quill for later use.
His potions kit, bought at a stand selling only organically grown ingredients and lacking any animal products, was set carefully in front of him as well. If the day's potion could be made using only his own components, he would do so to the best of his ability, with diligence, discipline, and on his very best behavior, because such potions were to be encouraged. If the day's potion used animal products, or something that could not be harvested in a renewable and earth-friendly manner, however, he'd have to sit out in formal protest and take a failing grade.
As the teacher began, Jose adjusted his rose colored John Lennon glasses and turned to watch her. As a performer himself, he noted that her stage presence was somewhat lacking, as she had a fairly closed posture most of the time, but she didn't do too badly in her diction or projection. That was good. At least she wasn't going to put anybody to sleep just by talking. After all, what was the point of formal protest and almost guaranteed detention if nobody was awake to witness it?
At the instruction to do so, Jose picked up his quill and scribbled his name across the table in front of him, JOSe HeRNANDEz. He'd meant to do it all in capital letters, but his quill got ahead of him three times and printed them out in lower case by mistake. The ink vanished before he could fix it. Frowning slightly, it took him a moment to remember to pay attention and not dwell on how ineptly he'd written his own name.
Keeping to a more normal capitalization scheme, he took down appropriate notes and she described some of the ingredients' preparation in greater detail than the book presumably did.
When she got to the part about the doxy blood, Jose groaned and sat back in his seat, letting the quill fall down in front of him, a sentence only half finish on his notebook page.
As the other students around him began their work, Jose sat in his spot, quite still, arms crossed, and very obviously not doing the assignment.
Glancing to the side of him, however, he watched as his nearest neighbor began to chop up his fluxweed. He couldn't hold his tongue as he offered, "She said mince that into fine bits, with slices like this," he demonstrated the technique with an imaginary knife before returning his arms to their crossed protest position. "You're making the pieces too big."
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Jose Hernandez
I've got mine up my sleeve.
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Jose Hernandez
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Nathaniel
August 19, 2009 4:56 PM
Really!? Wow, thats just like <i>magic</i> by Nathaniel
Still humming as he worked, Nathaniel’s attention was forced away from his fluxweed as his neighbor protested. Again, Nathaniel didn’t catch the first bit, and with wide eyes, asked, “Hm? What was that,” soon catching the boy making motions in the air similar to Nathaniel’s cutting… only thinner. Nathaniel’s hand slipped, as this was a boy whose attention shouldn’t be split. “Oh, ow,” he said, first, noting the bright red gash across his index finger.Dabbing the red on his already fairly stained t-shirt he nodded at the boy. “Yes, I am cutting,” he beamed, “What are you doing?” and after a second, stuck his cut finger in his mouth to stop more blood from getting all over. Apparently, the boy wasn’t just saying that Nathaniel was cutting, he was saying that Nathaniel was cutting too big. His mouth opened in a wide ‘O’, his finger pressing down on his tongue. He then looked at his uneven chunks of freash fluxweed with a frown.
“I don’t think it would matter, do you?” he said, removing his finger first and drying it off. “I mean, its still the same amount of fluxweed, with all the fluxweed magic in it, size shouldn’t matter,” he beamed, throwing the pieces into his cauldron anyway. “I’m Nathaniel Leon,” he said brightly, holding out the hand with the cut, until he saw it had started to slowly grow more blood, he took it back and looked at the red liquid with a distant interest before looking back to the boy.
“Would it be bad if this got in the potion?” he asked, curious for a second before his attention wandered again, and he picked up the little cup of sumac extract, looking around for a spoon or something to measure it with.
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Nathaniel
Really!? Wow, thats just like <i>magic</i>
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Nathaniel
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Jose H
August 19, 2009 7:33 PM
Yeah, my cousin's a magician...and a wizard, too, I guess. by Jose H
Jose winced and felt bad for distracting Nathaniel and making him cut himself, but the older student disregarded Jose's very sound advice and dumped in the large pieces of fluxweed before he could protest (which seemed the thing to do today) or stop him. Jose grimaced as the leaves sank beyond sight and braced himself for a possible explosion, but none seemed forthcoming yet.It was clearly only a matter of time, though. Maybe he should have sat more toward the back of the room after all. It was probably safer being on the opposite side of the room from Nathaniel Leon.
"Jose," Jose returned the introduction, dubiously looking at the bloody hand on offer. "Jose Hernandez." Despite the name, his accent had as much of an Hispanic influence to it as Nathaniel's did.
Fortunately, before Jose had to decide definitively on rudeness or shaking the injured hand (which had, incidently, just been in the guy's mouth), Nathaniel realized its state and distracted himself. Jose was quickly coming to the conclusion that this didn't take much.
"I'm quite sure that would be bad," Jose confirmed, in answer to question about blood getting into the potion. Then he thought of what blood was supposed to be in it, and qualified, "Unless you're a doxy, then it's probably all right." While it was true that Jose was less than one hundred percent sure what a doxy was, he was pretty sure Nathaniel wasn't one, so the comment was mostly meant to be funny.
Unless, of course, if Nathaniel knew something about doxies and his family tree that Jose didn't.
On the other hand, even if he didn't, Nathaniel's potion was already doomed after that unminced fluxweed, so it probably didn't matter either way. He canted his head and looked at Nathaniel specutively, "You know, you might have one in your line, at that, way back. You might not even need to find your doxy blood vial." He was a trained performer, so he was pretty sure he sounded convincing. And if he could stop someone from using the real doxy blood in a potion, so much the better.
And just to be contrary now, he also added, "Oh, and be sure to use that metal spoon to measure the sumac extract."
He was naturally curious just how wrong a potion had to go before it started making explosive sparks.
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Jose H
Yeah, my cousin's a magician...and a wizard, too, I guess.
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Jose H
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Nathaniel
August 19, 2009 11:40 PM
So I can trust you know what you're doing! by Nathaniel
“Jose Hernandez?” He looked at the boy curiously. Always one for names that fit, he did not think that this name fit. He tried it out in what he thought to be a Spanish accent. “Jooooose Hernandezzzz,” he frowned, that didn’t sound right either. “It doesn’t sound right on you,” he whined for just a second, before throwing the fluxweed in and possibly ruining his potion already.When told that the results of his blood would be bad, Nathaniel nodded carefully and set the wounded hand back on the table with care. “Okay, good, because I don’t want to blow anything up or hurt anyone, who knows what’s in my blood.” He looked at it like it was some kind of monster now, and looked back at what he really would need for this class.
Oh yeah, doxy blood. He knew about doxies, they were scary little things that looked like fairies from far away, but that was just a pretty trick, and then they bit you and it hurt. Or at least, that’s what he expected, getting bit usually hurt.
He laughed and looked at the other boy like he was the silly one. “I’m not a doxy, silly, I’m a boy.”
But then, Jose said something that made sense, and Nathaniel wasn’t so sure anymore. Nathaniel Leon was, in one word, gullible. And despite the fact that it was probably impossible for a doxy and human to go through the process of conceiving a child, let alone having the DNA that made it possible to have a child, Nathaniel Leon thought that it was totally possible.
“You know, you’re right,” he nodded. “I don’t have any magical family members you know, though my mom’s trying out Wicca, Pippa says that she still won’t be magic. Maybe I have doxy in my family! And that’s why I’m magic. Magic is so cool…” he trailed off, thinking why not and squeezed a drew drops of blood from his wound into the metal spoon, which he placed into the potion and began to stir.
“Ow, the metal’s starting to burn and smoke,” he pulled out the spoon, to see that it had in fact, begun smoking. “Should that be happening?” But he continued on, sumac extract with the metal spoon. Beaming at Jose, he told the boy, “Wow, thanks a lot Jose-hay,” he still didn’t think the name sounded right. “I wasn’t really listening you know, you’re big, WOAH!”
At this point in time, Nathaniel had poured way too much of the sumac extract on the metal spoon over his cauldron, and the spoon started to flame. When the flame touched his hand, Nathaniel let go in a rush, letting the spoon and over amount of sumac to fall into the cauldron. Which… also started a huge bonfire like flame at the top. And…
Nathaniel jumped back, knocking his chair back. “Is my cauldron melting?” he asked in a high-pitched, worried voice, looking back at Jose with a panic. “What did I do wrong?” he asked the boy, obviously terrified. “I just did everything you told me to do!”
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Nathaniel
So I can trust you know what you're doing!
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Nathaniel
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Jose
August 20, 2009 9:06 AM
Professor! He believed me! Help! by Jose
Jose dismissed the comment about his name not fitting him. It was his name. His dad and mom gave it to him. Besides, it was kind of fun to see how long it took people to figure out he didn't actually speak much Spanish. It occurred to him as he watched the potion steam that he probably liked tricking folks a little too much. He was totally getting at least two detentions for this.Which didn't stop him from watching as Nathaniel poured the sumac extract directly onto the metal spoon over the potion.
He'd been expecting something to go wrong, but not that spectacularly. It took him a moment longer than it probably should have to grab Nathaniel and leap as far away as he could while dragging the other boy. He shouted out "PROFESSOR! HELP!" even though she'd probably already seen the flames and figured out she was needed.
Jose threw up a protego, shielding both himself and Nathaniel from any further fiery potion splatters, and began checking over the other kid's hands and arms, feeling really bad about his part in the mess. The looked unnaturally red and was that burned hair he smelled? "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he said quite a few times. A week, a month of detentions was in his future for this stunt, he was certain.
"My fault, it's my fault," he told Nathaniel, because the other kid just looked so scared. "I told you wrong. My fault." Jose felt even more mean and guilty than he already did. He hadn't wanted anyone, especially Nathaniel who seemed like a really nice if very gullible guy, to get hurt or frightened. "Are you burned bad?" he asked, worried and conscience-stricken.
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Jose
Professor! He believed me! Help!
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Jose
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David Lancaster
August 20, 2009 1:23 PM
Remind me to change my seat. by David Lancaster
David Lancaster slid into his usual seat in potions, pleased that he had arrived with minutes to spare. Granted, his shirt was once again un-tucked and his robes impossibly wrinkled by the short journey through the hallway. Despite his best efforts, he never could manage to arrive to his classes with the proper appearance. Even his attempts to keep his bed made and his sheets tucked in fell short; somehow, in the process of putting the bed in order, he made it worse than a night of sleeping did. It made for a discouraging start to his mornings, and while it had been pointed out to him that the school's prairie-elves could sort out his bed far more easily and certainly better than he ever could, he couldn't quite get himself to break the habit.He was a creature of process, even if he did have the tendency lose himself into the actions. That probably explained why his end results were so often lackluster.
Kind of the way his fluxweed was looking at the moment.
David had been pleased when Professor Morastus didn't instruct that they work in pairs; he had been equally as pleased when he read over the potion's instructions. Potions was one of two classes in which he managed a level above mediocrity. The class was surprisingly similar to cooking, and he found the repetitiveness of much of the directions soothing. His knife-work, though, still required some improvement. He was fairly certain that mincing ought to create smaller pieces. He glanced over to where his housemate Nathaniel was working with Jose; David winced as Nathaniel dropped strips of fluxweed- strips that were definitely not anywhere close to looking minced- into his cauldron. His expression changed to one of concern, however, when he saw Nathaniel reach for a metal spoon to measure out the sumac extract.
His attempt to prevent the mistake, an abbreviated and clearly not loud enough "Not the metal one-" was promptly overshadowed when their workstation quite literally began raining fire. David stared, not quite comprehending either the sudden surge in heat or the very dangerous gelatinous fire-covered globs that were sputtering from the increasingly misshapen cauldron. And when he did stir into action, he had somehow pulled the large packet of baking soda that was used in their potions' bases and threw the entirety of it toward the cauldron. Half of the baking soda managed to land strategically, coating the flaming remnants on the table top and dousing them. The mess of the cauldron itself continued to sputter, the flaming mixture boiling like a lava pool, but the soda had done the job of weakening it enough so that David could step back and remember to take a breath. The other half of the baking soda flew back into his face and hair and whoever else was behind him.
Belatedly, David would realize that the thought to use his wand never even entered his mind. Somehow, the existence of Professor Morastus and the fact that the assistance of his baking soda was most likely unnecessary also failed to occur to him.
He blinked soda from his eyes and eyelashes, and turned to both Nathaniel and Jose, his voice unnaturally calm despite the fact that the entirety of him was shaking. "I think there's aloe in our kits. For the burns."
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David Lancaster
Remind me to change my seat.
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David Lancaster
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Professor Morastus
August 20, 2009 11:59 PM
Trial by Fire Indeed. by Professor Morastus
She had once heard it said that teachers couldn't have children because not one name could they hear without their blood pressure rising. While a few did a good job of making her cring inwardly, something told her the name Nathaniel was soon going to reach that vaulted status. Regardless of whether he would prove a good kid at heart, it took a lot to screw up such a simple potion so spectacularly, and it was usually something that couldn't be fixed. Either complete ineptitude or the attention span of a fruit fly.After reviewing the seating chart more carefully, names planting themselves in her memory, Aylin had gone to the far side of the classroom. Clarifying one after another of the details she had reviewed, the poor child she was helping seeming more afraid of the process than anything and it was something that had to be addressed before they began lest they make a mistake along the way that wouldn't truly reflect their actual ability. Under normal circumstances, it wouldn't have been that tragic a proposal, assisting a student for a few minutes but Fate had other plans, and while they would prove the bane of her existance, it was Fate's twisted sense of humor that troubled her the most.
Because Fate loved things coming in threes.
Her wand was out before she even got half way across the room, a swift flick and everything on the table froze in a strange form of stasis, flames and all. Another pointed snap, and it the cauldron vanished, where to, no one would honestly know, for she'd not divulge the answer even if they dare ask.
Reaching the young boy, Aylin cast a pointed look over those who were watching with morbid curiosity, causing them to return their much needed focus on their own work, then carefully took hold of the boy's wrist and inspected his hand. The burn wasn't much, and a simple charm set him to rights. Sighing, she released him and crossed her arms, wand still in hand. "Mister Leon," she began, a brow arched. "Were it necessary to demonstrate the outcome of doing everything I specifically warn you against, I would do so myself. As it is, from now on, you will not touch your cauldron until you have repeated and written every detail both I and the book cover in a potion's brewing. Is that clear?"
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Professor Morastus
Trial by Fire Indeed.
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Professor Morastus
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Jose Hernandez
August 21, 2009 9:03 AM
Professor, it's my fault. by Jose Hernandez
Jose was surprised. No detentions so far, and what really shocked him was that most of the teacher's focus seemed to be on Nathaniel, not him. "Professor," he put in a little tentatively, because he didn't really want to get in trouble, but it had been his fault more than Nate's and he really should take most of the blame here. That was only right and fair. "Professor, it's my fault. I told him what to do."Sure, Nathaniel probably should have been paying attention to the teacher in the first place, so that he'd have known Jose was giving him the worst advice possible, but he probably wouldn't have gotten everything wrong without Jose's instigation. "He thought he was following your advice, but I was telling him everything exactly wrong."
He looked at Nathaniel again, winced in guilt and shame, and looked away, "I'm really sorry. I didn't think it would flame out like that." He'd hoped for some smoke and sparks and some neat effects to look at, but he hadn't meant for anything to be dangerous. "But I'm the bad guy, Professor, not Nathaniel. I tricked him."
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Jose Hernandez
Professor, it's my fault.
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Jose Hernandez
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Nathaniel
August 21, 2009 1:09 PM
Now that's not all true D: by Nathaniel
Nathaniel was practically crying at this point. Not because anything hurt, nothing hurt, his hands stung a little, but he had been able to pull them away before the cauldron torched, but because he was scared. Because he had just really messed up, and he was terrified that he was going to get in trouble for this. He wasn’t crying, just shaking, little sobs coming from his throat. Jose called for the professor, and Nathaniel felt even worse.“I’m sorry,” he told Jose, begging forgiveness for the melting cauldron. “I’m so sorry, Jose, I’m so stupid, I did everything… wrong,” despite Jose telling him he had been told wrong. Nathaniel was still shaking. “No, no, I didn’t get much burn,” his hands were red, his fingers a little blistered, but he barely noticed it. He nodded at the other boy next to him, a boy in his house, David. I-I think I’ll be fine. Are you guys okay? I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Where‘s that aloe? Oh, Merlin, I‘m sorry.” And then, in a higher pitch, “I’m going to get in trouble,” he whimpered.
Sure enough, after the cauldron disappeared, his hands were taken from him by the Professor, and he sniffled, holding back the actual tears as best he could. “I’m sorry, Professor!” he said again, and a split second later he received his verbal lashing. Nathaniel’s appearance could be described close to that of a cowering puppy being smacked on the head. And he nodded, kept nodding dumbly.
His tongue untangled, and he found himself repeating apologies, shaking and looking down at his feet. Jose spoke up and Nathaniel fell silent immediately, long fingers moving up to brush away the tears that may have been there, and looked up at Jose with some shock. His voice came out as a small squeak, “Why did you…?” he was more surprised than angry, and one would find it would take a lot more than a little potions prank and some accidental burns to make Nathaniel Leon truly mad. Nathaniel came to the conclusion that this was still his fault, no matter how Jose was trying to turn it around.
Nathaniel shook his head. “N-no, no, I-I didn’t l-listen. I just, I l-looked up and you were t-talking, but I d-d-didn’t hear all of it,” the shaking disrupting his voice. “I-I would have still, something, still my fault.” He decided, sniffling, and with a small sound, returning his gaze to his feet. He was in so much trouble. So much. “I-I’m not c-cut out for magic,” he whimpered, near blubbering, “I n-never have b-been. C-cos my family h-hasn’t had it, I-I’m just no good. I’m s-sorry.”
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Nathaniel
Now that's not all true D:
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Nathaniel
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5
