I wish. on Potions

Prof. Isis Carter

September 21, 2015 12:52 AM

Peace, young ones! [Years III-V] by Prof. Isis Carter

As far as time slots went, the Intermediate Potions was definitely Isis’s favorite. Advanced was an early morning one, so that was an irritation. Beginners were later, which she liked, but given that it was directly after lunch, it could sometimes be a challenge to get everybody focused before class was halfway over, herself included. But the Intermediates came after that, at a time where the lunch-time jitters had faded away, and for her, it was a nice, relieving switch.

She was glad to see the third through fifth years file in, taking whatever seat struck their fancy. While Isis did technically keep a seating chart, they were allowed to sit basically anywhere. She knew their names well enough by this time in the year to enable it. Really, the chart was just in case she couldn’t make it for one reason or another, and an outside substitute had to be called in.

“Good afternoon, class,” she smiled. “Today we’ll be brewing the Draught of Peace. You need to pay close attention as you brew, or else there may be some serious consequences. For the list of them, consult your textbook.” Not that Isis wanted to scare them with the ambiguity, but she didn’t have time to list them all, really. “Just measure well and watch the color your potion becomes. This one isn’t measured in a particular amount of time but rather when and how the colors change, so don’t be worried if you get done sooner or take longer than your peers.”

“Your instructions will appear on the board momentarily,” she concluded, a piece of chalk taking flight behind her and beginning to transcribe. “Unless anyone has any questions, you may begin as soon as you have the steps.”

OOC: The steps:

Add powdered moonstone until the potion turns green.
Stir until the potion turns blue.
Add powdered moonstone until the potion turns purple.
Allow to simmer until the potion turns pink.
Add syrup of hellebore until the potion turns turquoise.
Allow to simmer until the potion turns purple.
Shake powdered porcupine quills vigorously until they are ready and then add until the potion turns red.
Stir until the potion turns orange.
Add more porcupine quills until the potion turns turquoise.
Allow to simmer till the potion turns purple.
Add powdered unicorn horn until the potion turns pink.
Stir until the potion turns red.
Allow to simmer until the potion turns purple.
Add more powdered moonstone until the potion turns grey.
Allow the potion to simmer until it turns orange.
Add more powdered porcupine quills until the potion turns white

As a note, you may also want to look here, which is the source of these steps, for more in-depth information. The brewing of this one can be a bit tricky, and you can say that this additional information IC comes from your textbooks. Happy posting!

Subthreads:

I wish. by Chaslyn Brockert,Crotalus with Isaac Douglas, Crotalus

How groovy. by John Umland, Aladren

12 Prof. Isis Carter Peace, young ones! [Years III-V] 31 Prof. Isis Carter 1 5

Chaslyn Brockert,Crotalus

September 23, 2015 10:52 PM

I wish. by Chaslyn Brockert,Crotalus

Chaslyn had a splitting headache. It was as if all the pressure she felt mentally was manifesting itself physically, squishing her head in. It didn't help that she'd only gotten a few hours of sleep last night, far less than someone her age needed. She really hadn't wanted to get up as she was exhausted. However, staying in bed, skipping class-she'd have had to get up even without class so as not to waste precious time-was out of the question.

So she'd forced herself up and made herself dress to perfection. Chaslyn had to put effort into everything she did. Her mother detested laziness, it was her biggest complaint about Amity, who had appropriated the insult for own use and wrapped it around herself like a warm blanket, taking great pride in it. Mother had not been amused.

Granted, the Crotalus had never seen her mother be amused if she thought about it. Chaslyn really had no time to ponder such thoughts for more than a few seconds though. Besides, she was exhausted, stressed, kind of hungry-she'd eaten but not enough as she never had enough time for it-and her head was pounding. It was hard to think clearly.

Unfortunately, Chaslyn had to go to Potions now, and that was a class that required her do so more than any other. She entered the room only to notice the place in the front where she always sat was taken. The fourth year had had it impressed on her from a young age that those who were the good students, the ones who shined, sat, while the mediocre ones sat in the middle and the lazy slackers sat in the back. Chaslyn feared being mediocre. To Mother, that was the "M" word not mudblood-and she knew full well what would happen if she was a lazy slacker. She shuddered at that particular thought.

So she always sat in front, even though she really didn't like it. She hated the feeling everyone being able to see her, their eyes on her, judging. Plus, she really would have rather sat with Liac.

Unfortunately today, not only was her regular seat taken, but all the other seats in the front were occupied as well. Chaslyn could not help but be kind of upset. While she didn't like sitting there much, her nerves were frayed and she was feeling a bit irritable. Yet, the Crotalus didn't want to make a scene. People would laugh at her and make fun of her and Mother would be furious. Besides, she truly didn't want to bother or upset anyone.

She sank down in an available seat and listened as attentively as she could to Professor Carter with her head aching so bad. Chaslyn couldn't help but perk up slightly though when the professor stated that they'd be doing the Draught of Peace. The only potion Chaslyn currently needed more was one to cure the pain in her head. She was starting to really like Professor Carter. Her lessons always seemed to be spot on with what the fourth year needed most. She'd already been taking the endurance potion since they learned it. Chaslyn rather hoped that one would be on her CATS exam.

The one thing she was worried about though was that she wasn't going to perform adequately enough on this today. Not that she didn't usually worry about that, but today she didn't really feel in any condition to be brewing, despite how necessary this potion for her. Still, missing class was out of the question, no matter how bad she felt. Chaslyn rubbed her head and turned to the person next to her, hoping it was someone good at potions. "Will you work with me, please?" She asked hopefully.

11 Chaslyn Brockert,Crotalus I wish. 281 Chaslyn Brockert,Crotalus 0 5

Isaac Douglas, Crotalus

September 30, 2015 3:46 PM

Upon a star? by Isaac Douglas, Crotalus

There were times when Isaac found his isolation at Sonora oppressive, but it seemed that he was going to spend at least a year and a half of his life seeing the bright side of it. The half-year was the first half of his second year. When the school had been one step away from total collapse under the command of a council of particularly, even by Aladren and Crotalus standards, undersexed and over-brained teenagers with his sister as spokeswoman, he had been devoutly grateful that nobody noticed him, knowing that if anyone’s nerve broke in spectacular fashion, the mob would go for those who stuck out first. The full year was this one because of the vandalisms going on around the school. Isaac didn’t think there was much they could hold over his head, but every day he wondered what might come out next, who it might be about, and when it was going to come to blows when the wrong people got pushed the wrong way by some of it.

Crotalus had a certain reputation, but Isaac didn’t think they deserved it. Aladrens were the ambitious ones, the gamblers and social climbers and would-be reformers and Dark Arts dabblers and politicians and probably a few who were all of those things. Crotali just wanted everything to be neat and orderly and run smoothly, without conflict, and Isaac was a Crotalus who thought he got a little more Crotalus-like every year. People coming to blows meant situations were not under control, plus one never knew who stray curses might hit. He did not want to spend a week in the hospital because he was walking down the corridor minding his own business when some idiot Pecari rubbed some idiot Aladren’s pride the wrong way, or some idiot Aladren deliberately provoked some idiot Pecari’s temper.

Luckily, the tensions didn’t seem to have spilled into the classrooms. Yet. Or at least not his classrooms. Isaac could only assume it was because fifth years knew exams were coming and the fourth and third years didn’t have the nerve to upset the fifth years. It seemed there might even be a bright side to CATS, dim though it could be.

It looked dimmer than usual as he looked over the instructions and notes over the Draught of Peace. This was difficult, and some idiot third year was sure to blow up a cauldron before the class was over. He just hoped it wasn’t near him. Luckily, the person next to him was a Crotalus. Unluckily, she clearly, from the head-rubbing, wasn’t too enthusiastic about something, but one couldn’t have everything.

“It would be my pleasure,” he said politely. “Will you measure out some moonstone and set up the burners while I go get the water?” Gentlemen had to lug heavy things so ladies didn’t have to, but if they did all the work in partnerships…

…Well, actually, Isaac would bite his tongue and do it because of her surname and how small Douglas Construction's profits looked, even after a surprisingly good year, compared to the resources some of her relatives could command, but he wouldn’t like it. Luckily again, though, Chaslyn was usually a front-row kind of girl, so she could probably hold her own. The trick might be just not letting her upstage him and embarrass him.

16 Isaac Douglas, Crotalus Upon a star? 273 Isaac Douglas, Crotalus 0 5

John Umland, Aladren

September 30, 2015 5:56 PM

How groovy. by John Umland, Aladren

He strongly suspected he was in the minority (as usual), but John sometimes wished his classes would both have and enforce alphabetical seating charts. For him, the system would have had several advantages: a stigma-free seat in the back, which was where he would have liked to be if not for its association with students hiding misdeeds from teachers, the ability to largely hide what he was doing from the teachers, and a guarantee of some decent company among the other late-alphabeters. Olivier Westley was not a person John felt any need for a closer acquaintance with, but Lena and Theodore were both all right. Theodore in particular was both all right and a rather interesting fellow, both of which John thought were considerable accomplishments for a Handsome Pureblood Guy. He knew it was a completely illogical position to hold, but it still surprised him a bit sometimes that it was even physically possible for someone with all three of those traits to be anything other than a complete (and worse, completely boring) ass.

Instead, though, even Carter, who gave them a seating chart, didn’t care where they sat, leaving the arrangements first-come first-serve. John consoled himself that at least this enabled him to both avoid everyone with ‘Ol’ in his name and to sometimes work with Clark. Since Olivier Westley and Oliver Ferguson were, from all he’d seen, the backsides of particularly dull mules and Clark was the only person at Sonora he could almost always have a complete conversation with without ever feeling that he and the other participant were speaking separate languages, he had to admit those were an impressive pair of advantages, even on days when the only one he got to actively enjoy was avoiding the Ollies. In Potions, not being forced to sit beside potentially hostile entities was always even more of a plus than it was in all their classes.

Never more, though, than when they were working with a tricky one. John felt his pulse increase a bit with excitement as he looked around, hoping to at least make eye contact with Clark. This potion would be yet another great one for comparing results on, especially since this time, Professor Carter said the variations were going to occur. She had not specified if it was because of differences in ingredients or flame temperature, but they could test both, especially after all the research John had done over midterm. He had thoroughly annoyed the apothecary and one of the newer library assistants back home before it was over, but he had come back to school with as much information on the stuff in his Potions kit as he thought was possible to obtain without becoming an apothecary or distributor and wanted to show off a bit.

First, though, he had to obtain Data. Potions wasn’t his favorite class, he enjoyed actually casting spells too much for that, but it spoke to the obsessive side of him, the one that carefully took numbers of birds in the gardens and then tried to compare the non-magical ones to counts for non-magical Arizona every holiday. He’d keep this into Advanced. Along with, at the moment, everything else, as he couldn’t really imagine dropping any of his classes even though he knew he’d need to do a lot of independent work in those years, too….

He scowled at his cauldron as he ran water into it at the tap, cursing the necessity of sleeping from time to time.

Back at his station, though, he hummed to himself as he opened up the trays in his Potions kit and laid out his measuring spoons. Since so many of the instructions were vague, indicating he should add things just until something happened, he thought he would start with his smallest spoon and work his way up rather than risk his hand slipping and dumping in a lot at once with one of the larger ones. If he did that, then not only could he explode his cauldron, he would also be further from exactly sure just how much he had put in and whether or not the rate at which substances were poured in affected the brew time and quality of the results.

Moonstone. From his inventorying, he remembered that it was a feldspar – he’d have to rummage out his notes on it to get the specifics, but ‘sodium potassium’ something was relevant, and he remembered it was composed of alternating layers of two other species. He’d badly wanted samples of powdered moonstone from some of the different production regions, but the shop owner had only had two, had been annoyed with him for asking, and the Sri Lankan ones had been prohibitively expensive anyway. Pressing his lips together and squinting in concentration, he carefully began to tip the powdered moonstone he had been able to afford into his cauldron – and unthinkingly reached for the stirring spoon to stir it in as it was added, mildly agitating the water before he remembered that wasn’t how it was written and pulling his hand back. This made his other hand mess up the moonstone’s rate of entry into the water and he winced, half-expecting a bang even though nothing he knew about either moonstones or the quality of Sonora’s water made an immediate explosion likely.

Luckily, no explosion happened anyway. Muttering under his breath in disgust, he measured another quarter-teaspoon out and began tipping again, this time getting it right. His potion had become a smoky grey from the addition of the first batch, but as he added the second, he could see it slowly silvering, inching toward silvery-green...not the color he pictured as ‘green,’ but it was on the spectrum, he supposed. The potion also ended at white, so lighter shades throughout, like those seen in the moonstones which were the primary ingredient, might be preferable. Since it was still early enough in the class that he could start over if he needed to, though, he decided to go on until he got a truer green or something exploded. When he got to one, he estimated about how much moonstone was left in his spoon and checked how long it had taken him to add it all on his watch and wrote down those answers with one hand while stirring with the other.

“Got to love the fiddly and imprecise ones,” he remarked to his neighbor. “It’s no wonder the books says there’s a nearly endless number of bad results you can get from this one.”

16 John Umland, Aladren How groovy. 285 John Umland, Aladren 0 5

Chaslyn

October 16, 2015 4:33 PM

If it would help. by Chaslyn

Normally, Isaac Douglas was not someone Chaslyn spoke to. He was from a fairly good family and all that but he'd never seemed particularly friendly and that made the fourth year even more anxious about talking to him than she was normally. Even though the Brockerts were socially above the Douglas family, she still feared being judged negatively. Doing something wrong. It had been impressed upon her for as long as she could remember to be well... impressive . She'd never seen Isaac as an especially easy person to impress and while Chaslyn knew full well that she shouldn't shy away from something because it was difficult, her nerves tended to get the best of her.

Plus, she was so busy trying to keep up with all her different activities and shine in them all, that she didn't have time to talk to many people even if she wanted to. Natually the Crotalus often heard about this one too. In fact, Mother would even mention that it was the only thing that Amity had managed to do right and Chaslyn couldn't seem to do it!

Still, things were how they were at the moment, Isaac was the person she was speaking to and it would be rude and strange to say she didn't want to work with him when she'd asked in the first place. Besides, he was being rather polite himself.

"Certainly," Chaslyn replied, wincing at the pain in her head. She wanted more than anything to lie down but knew that to do so before bedtime was unthinkable even if she wasn't in class. If she rested, stopped doing things that were productive, things that were for self-improvement, she'd feel super guilty. She set about her task, pasting a pleasant smile on her face. Appearances were important after all.

OOC-Sorry this took a bit. Been kind of unmotivated lately.

11 Chaslyn If it would help. 281 Chaslyn 0 5