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Author Topic: Paris, je t'aime! | Infirmary Case Study  (Read 702 times)

* Lia Ayres

    (04/07/2019 at 17:15)
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28 July 1956
Late morning

The entire infirmary had been taken apart and rearranged for the case study. The beds had all been shoved off to the sides and replaced with tables and potions work stations. Hopefully, no one would coming in requiring actual healing, because Lia had no idea where they would put them. The room smelled pretty weird too, what with all the ingredients they had set out. Not bad, per se, but not the usual antiseptic scent of the infirmary.

Lia watched a little nervously as everyone came in, suddenly not so sure about this whole idea. Maybe they should have went with a different potion. They’d tested out a whole bunch of potions, why had they decided on this one again? Especially after the whole debacle with Polly. But it was too late to go back now, since people were here and they were all set up.

When everyone was settled down and Téo and Mari looked ready to go, Lia cleared her throat.

“For the case study today, we’re going to be looking at a different kind of healing,” she said, just a little nervously. “Since we’re in France this summer, we’ve decided to explore the healing powers of love.”

She glanced around, trying to see the reactions of the other students. Did they think was as out-there as she did herself?

“We’ll be brewing a love potion today. For those of you who aren’t particularly strong at potions, don’t worry. We’ve kept this one nice as simple, though this also means that it’s not as potent as, say, Amortentia, but that’s probably for the best.”

Because giving a bunch of teenagers and preteens a powerful love potion would totally go over well.

“If brewed properly, the potion should cause mild to moderate euphoria. It should also smell like things you find attractive, though unlike Amortentia, everyone will be able to smell it. Finally, once it’s finished, it should turn the colour of your true love’s eyes.

“Please be careful, though. With these potions, as with real love, things can get explosive when they go wrong.”

Hell, just look at her and Polly. Though she was pretty sure that they were mostly okay right now. Or she hoped, anyway.

"The first part of this case study is to create the base potion, which you'll find up on the blackboard. You can start with that now. If you need any help, just give either Téo, Mari, or myself a shout."

She turned and motioned to where the potion was written. It read:

1. Bring a cauldron of water to a simmer.
2. Add cinnamon, powdered aloeswood and white willow bark into the cauldron and stir five times anticlockwise. The potion should be light brown. Let simmer for one minute.
3. Add six rose petals, letting each dissolve into the solution before adding the next. Stir once clockwise.
4. Add in one slice of frozen ashwinder egg, stirring until it dissolves into the potion. The potion should be light pink.
5. Grind fresh parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme with a mortar and pestle. Add to the cauldron and bring to a boil.



Welcome to our infirmary case study!

This case study is going to be roughly divided into three parts - the base potion, some personal additions, and then reactions and responses. Do all of these (or more, if you're keen) and you'll not only get the Gringotts points, but also two points towards passing Hospital Wing next term.

Whether your potion comes out perfectly, explodes, or is just kind of a dud is entirely up to you. Don't injure anyone without permission though. Students will also be required to turn in all potions at the end (can't have a bunch of kids running around camp with love potions now, can we?), so if your character is going to try to keep some for themselves, please be sneaky about it.

If you're not yet signed up and are kicking yourself for missing the opportunity to make a love potion, don't worry! Sign ups are open until the 10th! Next update will be in a week.

Do your worst, folks!
« Last Edit: 04/07/2019 at 18:31 by Lia Ayres »
If I wasn't so afraid
I'd shine a light up to space
Then my soul could be
Strong enough to see your face

give me one more day


Lysander Stone

    (04/07/2019 at 19:19)
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She held his rapt attention as closely as if she clutched it in her fists. Most potions were boring things; they made fingernails grow straighter or put you to sleep. There were occasions where they were good for pranking but these were few and far between.

A potion for love was something which would solve a bunch of problems. It was something else. There were several girls which passed through his mind - Sandy gave his head a firm shake to clear them away. If he wanted to use a love potion, he needed to make it. Lia was opening a door for him through which a whole realm of possibilities grew. Would 1957 be the year he got a girlfriend?

His fingers traced a little circle around the edge of his cauldron, the pewter cool despite the heat of the day. He could feel apprehension circling the room in much the same way. Even the squib could grasp the gravity of the knowledge which Lia promised to impart.

He steeled himself against the coming struggle. Potioneering was not his strength - he had failed the class last year. This was a prize worth overcoming oneself for. He glanced about at the others in the room, meeting their eyes and drinking in their reactions. Some would know Sandy's terrible lack of potions skill, and some had yet to learn.

Better than they never did learn. This was Sandy's chance, he realised, to reinvent himself as a master potioneer.

Water trickled from his wand steadily until the cauldron was three-quarters full. A puff of grey smoke floated from his wand as he muttered an igniting charm to kindle the firewood beneath. A clarity of purpose had overtaken him. It helped that his wand, normally stiff and aloof at the prospect of brewing, seemed to lean into the task.

With a few muttered incantations, he drew the required ingredients and plopped them in. Everything went swimmingly. The instructions seemed clearer than normal potion recipes. By the time the last grains of sand reached the base of the minute-glass, a petal was already descending toward to mixture.

With the petals dissolved he stirred, unwilling to lose the kind of momentum he was so infrequently treated to, and gently added a slice of frozen egg. Then he resumed stirring. It turned a dull pink colour, not quite the bright bubblegum shade he had imagined from Lia's description.

He felt himself falter. He had followed everything perfectly. Perfectly. Still, the potion itself refused perfection. For a moment it seemed as if the best thing would be to ask for help. He would have asked Mari, if she were not one of the potential loves to whom he might give the potion. Something about having her help him seemed insidious. There were other kids who needed Lia's help better than he did, and the only other option was the foreign girl to whom Sandy had never spoken. That was hardly an option at all.

His boyish muscles burned as they always did as he held the pestle. He persevered, wondering who he should use the potion on when it were complete. There were plenty of other kids in here - even if he stuffed up there was bound to be at least on potion to sneak a sample of.

Finally he added the various herbs to the mixture. His giddy smile seemed to bounce right off the walls back to him.
I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.

* Christoph Alexander Grey

    (04/07/2019 at 21:36)
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His attention was vaguely held by Lia's instructions. He knew vaguely of the potion he'd need to brew which helped...but it was also slightly above his skill level. He'd need to be careful..especially considering it could explode. He waited for her to be done speaking before moving around his equipment, making sure that the Cauldron was set to simmer and ready for him to begin when he was set.

It was a bit more difficult to get a stream of water to come from his wand. Took a few extra minutes, but he was able to fill it three quarters of the way before he got the Cinnamon and powdered Aloeswood ready to toss in whilst grabbing the white willow bark. His eyes glancing around the room and briefly landed on a few people he recognized before deeming the Cauldron ready, he tossed in the ingredients and stirred five times anticlockwise. It would sit for a minute.

That being said sixty seconds was time he'd use to prepare the next batch of item to go in the Cauldron. The potion was a light brown as sand in Chris's hour glass fell, the last grain falling as he dropped the first of six rose petals into the brew. Each one needed to dissolve before the next went in and it didn't take long. Each dissolved quickly and he once again was brought to stirring. Once clockwise before dropping a single slice of frozen ashwinder egg and stirring it until it dissolves with everything else and the brew turned a pink color. The final step listed on the board was his favorite as he enjoyed the Motar and Pestle. Parsley, rosemary, sage, and thyme that were so obviously fresh...grind to a perfect powder before going in the cauldron.

He smirked as he set it to boil and sat down to relax. He'd have to snag a bit of the potion when he was done. Maybe not necessarily to use but to have as proof of being able to do it when he again saw his mother. He gazed around and looked for other having trouble. It would give him entertainment he was desperately needing while he waited for further instructions...unfortunately he didn't notice anyone...at least not yet. 

His mind went to the description of the potion though. The fact that it would eventually turn the color of his true love's eyes. That was slightly intriguing. Of course he'd be looking to match the color to people around him...but what were the odds of his love being there? ight in this room at this time?

His curiosity would undoubtedly get the better of him but he wasn't too worried as he wasn't interested in relationships right now and probably not for awhile.
Step on the glass, Staple your tongue.

Arthur Darwin

    (04/07/2019 at 23:25)
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It was a small miracle that he'd let himself be talked into helping here in the infirmary. Of course he liked helping, but Arthur had hardly any experience with magic, and none with potions. Still, he'd been told he could help without magic, so he'd give it a try.

He had brought his wand with him to the infirmary anyway, even if he didn't know what to do with it - he just liked the way it looked and the way it felt when he pointed it at random things he encountered.

Arthur had sat down next to Lysander. He'd already gathered and arranged everything he'd need on the table in front of him, a cauldron, the ingredients, and on the very corner of the table, the wand. At that point would have started something himself, but the first step involved both water and fire, and he had neither. Starting with step two also seemed like a bad plan, he was not looking forward to 'things getting explosive'.

He definitely couldn't do this without assistance. But that was okay. He'd call for someone later.

For now, he just wanted to watch the boy next to him. It was mesmerising, something odd seemed to be happening to the potion at every step, and he was going through them at what Arthur believed to be an incredible pace. Until, eventually, he stopped.

Was that it already? In that case, it seemed like a waste of time trying to get a counsellor's attention... Finally, Arthur spoke up.

"Hey, can you help me with this?"










   D
A

Bracken Thomas

    (04/08/2019 at 01:42)
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The sight actually - genuinely - didn't provoke a flinch? Not even an eye twitch? The infirmary so far had been little more than a drag, kinking the days that could otherwise be spent stretching in the sun and sleeping (this existing in the ideal world that lacked any preparatory books or relationship drama). He had to admit that this version of their student-run St. Mungo's had an impressive sheen about it - and he didn't really even like Potions. Nor did the sight of Mari send him into a fit of giddiness, but all the same Bracken took a seat feeling pleasant enough.

It was odd, to bear witness to Lia instructing the assembly, an actual professor of this subject to her classroom. Perhaps the oddity rested in how naturally the position seemed to come to her. Rolling his eyes, the Ravenclaw bet himself right then and there that she would end up teaching Potions for a living.

"-we've decided to explore the healing powers of love."

"For Merlin's sake," he cawed, hand flying in the air, both doing so to perturb the Potions master and as an actual outcry of his feelings towards anything involving love. Most people might assume he had no interest, but truthfully his heart had been put through too many acrobatics this far in the summer, and sometimes it felt like the strings were barely holding together. Silently- gravely- he praised Pilar's involvement with so much else so that she could not partake in the Infirmary. In her absence in the room, his eyes flitted to the bubblegum blonde whose feelings probably were soured more than his own on the subject of love, thanks in full to Bracken's stringing her along last year. Hm.

The effects of their intended brew for the day struck his interest, and he wondered how readily he might slip the product into his pocket (assuming it turned out anything like it was supposed to). Then again, Lia might just let him.

With a flash, flames rose to life at the base of his cauldron and he peered thoughtfully at the assembled ingredients.

"Bet you wouldn't choke down a pile of that cinnamon," Bracken tried to provoke the student at his side, knowing quite well the disastrous effects.
RELIGION

picking
wings off of angels
has
always
been
my

* Olette Carroll

    (04/08/2019 at 03:22)
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When Olette had signed up for the Infirmary, she figured they’d be learning how to apply potions and salves and manually bandaging injuries. Maybe learning different symptoms of things. Since campers weren’t allowed to have their wands, she figured she wouldn’t have to worry about spellcasting.

But instead, they were brewing potions. Not just potions, but love potions. Olette frowned as she looked around the room. She’d never tried to brew a potion but was fairly certain she couldn’t. She suddenly felt sick. It was a feeling of anxiousness now that swept over her. She didn’t lie about her squibness but wasn’t necessarily open about it either. After all, she imagined people would demand she was unfit to be a counsellor.

While the other students began moving, she got up as well. She wasn’t sure where she going. Whether she should attempt to make the potion anyway, or if she should try to seek out help. But who even could help her? She gathered all the ingredients anyway, praying she wouldn’t blow up the place. It’s just like cooking, she tried to tell herself.

If she tried to think of the cauldron as just a pot instead, perhaps it wouldn’t be so difficult? She could bring water to a simmer. The rest was just adding ingredients. The question, however, was if it’d be a love potion or just flavoured water.
You can look right through me
Walk right by me
And ne
ver know I'm there

* Lupin Sol

    (04/08/2019 at 20:53)
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An audible gulp left him when he realized what the infirmary had been changed into for the case study. Lupin had poor experience at potion-brewing, taking to it with the success a fat turkey did flying. He had hoped the case study would involve the more practical techniques that he was more confident in when it came to being a nurse at the infirmary, but he was resigned to forcing his expression to appear far from grim.

If, like Lia alluded to, this would actual help someone feel better if he was successful at crafting the brew then his apprehension would have to cease too. It helped to know that this was going to be simple, something even the first-years in the group could achieve. Not being able to accomplish that was as strong a sign that he should just quit school and go back to America to live with the muggles.

The fact that his work station was shared with Nashira Nettlebed of all people only heightened the strain of having to fight against his unease. Whether it was due to falling into their usual potion rhythm without thinking, where the Slytherin girl would dutifully sit beside him and roll her eyes at his poor attempts until she spoke up to let him know that he was a few stirs away from killing them all, or if this was done with some purpose in mind, he willed himself to offer her a smile and try to bring his water to boil.

At least he knew he couldn't screw that up.

The rest of his process was done ignoring the presence of his tutor beside him. Lupin was unbelievably thankful that these were portioned beforehand or he would have struggled to figure out which one was powdered aloeswood and how much of it was needed. He went through the process slower than most in an effort to being decidedly cautious.

Each step had him suck in his breath, only find it easier to breathe when the potion finally changed into a pale shade of pink.

As he started grinding the final ingredients for the base, he almost felt like this was too good to be true. The potion looked tame and normal, as rare a circumstance he had found himself in when no one had been telling him what he had done wrong. He didn't like how uncomfortable being poor at magic made him-- he'd almost forgotten it with how absent it was in camp and it took being reminded of it here in his worse subject to have him start second-guessing himself. Even something as simple as this.

Despite not wanting to ask the girl beside him, he looked over with his hands still mashing at the green ingredients and asked, "Does this look ground enough to you?" to Nash.


powerplay approved by Nashira Nettlebed
oh sometimes I get So Ahead of mySELF
Feels like I'm running in (ir)les
oh and I'm just holding onto my breath
I need Smoke just to exHALE

howmanysoulsdoyoutouchaday?

* Henry Reed

    (04/08/2019 at 21:40)
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He paused when he walked into the infirmary. This was..not how it was last time?

Henry shuffled forward to follow the general group of volunteers until he was by a cauldron. His attention shifted from the items in front of him to Lia as she began to explain what they'd be doing.

Love potions.

Now, Henry was all for a good happy ending but true love wasn't that. There is no way that people have a soulmate or one person that's 'perfect' for them. Love is stretchy, pliable and tough but at the end of the day, it's breakable.

It's just a part of life, people fall in and out of love.

He wasn't the best at potions on a good day so this just proved to Henry that it was not going to turn the colour of his 'true love's eyes, because one- he probably wouldn't make it that far and two- there was no such thing as true love.

None the less, he started following the instructions. A glance around the room told him that people were starting to pair up. He wondered what colour the potion would turn then if there were two people involved... Hm. Anyways, he took a step to the side so that there was more than enough room for anyone to join him at the cauldron.

Henry set the cauldron to a simmer using his wand first, before he started to fill it with water slowly. The charm was nice and simple but he kept an eye on it to carefully ensure it didn't overflow, stopping it when it was just over half way full.

Next was the ingredients..Cinnamon, powdered aloeswood and white willow bark got added. He stirred, mumbling the five times he did so, anti-clockwise so starting at the top and in a circle to his left.

Whilst he counted in his head the minute he was supposed to leave it for, Henry gathered the rose petals. As soon as he got to 61, he dropped one petal in. It dissolved, and another was dropped in. After the sixth one, he put the rest of the petals down and picked up the ladel, giving that a single stir to the right.

Part of him wondered why his potion skills weren't as sharp as they should be considering all they had to do was follow instructions- something he could usually do quite well.

A slice of a type of egg was added in next, absentmindedly as he tried to figure out the mystery of where he'd gone wrong the past year or so in that class. A glance to his potion and the egg was gone. Right, so now it was pink..A rather pale pink, which he didn't know whether it should be classed as light or not. He supposed he might just be being over-analytical.

Using the pestle and mortar to grind up some of the green herbs, the names on the instructions not really mattering to him, Henry would then scrape the now dust-like-leaves into the cauldron. He wasn't sure if there was a particular way you had to grind stuff up, but it wasn't whole so surely it counted.

Bringing it to a boil, Henry then started to tidy up the excess ingredients around his area, if anything just to take his mind off the potential disaster of a potion in front of him. Sure, he'd followed the instructions but everything seemed to be out to get him lately.

Kenji Ikari

    (04/09/2019 at 10:15)
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Kenji wasn’t overly familiar with the infirmary at summer camp — something he was thankful for because he had two working eyes and two working legs, and the usual spryness of a young boy who was still used to running around a lot. Still, he assumed that things were looking a little differently today (what with the beds having been shoved against the walls) when the young boy dashed into the room to join the rest of the campers who had gathered.

Quickly sitting down in one of the nearby seats next to one of the other boys, Kenji nodded studiously as the camp counsellor gave the introduction and noted the instructions for everyone. It was only during this time when Kenji paused, his head turning this way and that for a moment, as if a bug had flown into one of his ears.

A—aisuru??

He blinked, looking left and right in confusion and momentary panic at the other students around him. Had he understood correctly? Had she really meant to say what he thought she had said? Because if she had then…

“That’s… ahhhhhhhh…”

The idea of being taught how to make a love potion was just so… weird. Why was she teaching them how to make weird things? And wow… was it getting hot in here from all the fires and boiling water, he wondered as he pulled at his collar, his neck and ears warm with a blush that was hard to mistake for a sunburn.

At least it would smell nice, he thought as he considered the cauldron of water before him before watching everyone else start on their potion. He wasn’t sure about the colour of someone else’s eyes. Wouldn’t that more than likely mean that if someone was his true love that their potion would be the colour of coal? Somehow he wouldn’t wish that upon anyone when black was such an ugly colour.

The potion making itself didn’t seem like a difficult thing to do. There were only five steps in the instructions which seemed easy, but the only problem was that he was less familiar with some of the more important brewing terms such as ’simmer’, ‘dissolve’ and ‘anticlockwise’, so he decided to ignore the blackboard and simply copy the older boy he was sitting next to. He of all people seemed to know what he was doing, what with the mumbling and the counting and using the mortar with such experience.

“This is not so hard,” Kenji commented brightly then to the boy next to him as he dropped all his petals into the brewing concoction at once instead of one by one as instructed, not even realising the mistake.

He was so going to ace this!


I pictured him sitting next to Henry, but feel free to say it was you instead!

* Vega Nettlebed

    (04/09/2019 at 14:18)
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Opting for one of the work stations relatively close to the front of the room, Vega Nettlebed stood and glared at Lia Ayres.

She didn't know the girl well, or at all, really. What little interaction she had had with her had always been in the Hospital Wing, and even that had been relatively infrequent, for Vega preferred to work alone in the Apothecary than with anybody else. No, she didn't know Lia well, but she knew enough from Téo and that disaster of a trial run between the pair to know that she couldn't be trusted.

"--this also means that it’s not as potent as, say, Amortentia, but that’s probably for the best."

"Yes, probably," Vega echoed, loudly enough for the Hufflepuff to hear her. If Lia had tried to throw herself at Téo when supposedly under the effects of a mild love potion, downright assault would probably have been on the cards for something more powerful. Blue eyes cast another wave of silent judgment at the blonde before they shifted to glance at Avery by her side.

...Wait.

Avery was by her side.

"When did you get here?" she snapped, accusing, as Lia droned on. "And more importantly, couldn't you have found somewhere else to stand?" The last thing she wanted was Avery Elliot and his stupid golden curls breathing down her neck while she tried to make a love potion. He'd probably try and drop a crystal or two into her cauldron when she wasn't looking under the pretence of cleansing her aura and end up ruining everything.

With an irritated shake of her head, and half-hoping the gesture might remove both blonde Hufflepuffs from her mind and from the room itself, Vega lit the fire beneath her cauldron with a sharply muttered, "Incendio." She was beginning to think that it had been a mistake turning up; she could have brewed this potion, or something far less troublesome, later, when the Infirmary was quiet and not packed full of idiots. Not even Téo, whom she caught in her periphery beginning a circuit around the room, was enough to lift her mood, which hadn't been particularly bright to begin with and was only worsening with each passing minute.

In went the cinnamon, powdered aloeswood, and white willow bark. Five stirs, anti-clockwise. She left it light brown and simmering as she gathered up her rose petals.

One. She looked once more at the boy beside her.

Two. She resisted the urge to push his hair out of his eyes.

Three. "Haven't you ever heard of a haircut?"

Four. A beat of silence.

Five. "I could do it for you, if you like."

Six. One stir clockwise, and a slice of frozen ashwinder egg.

Her potion turned the same colour as Aphrodite Foxe's lipgloss.


powerplay of avery elliot granted by player.

* Brian Alexander Connors

    (04/10/2019 at 00:21)
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His attention was vaguely held by Lia's instructions. He knew vaguely of the potion he'd need to brew which helped...but it was also slightly above his skill level. He'd need to be careful..especially considering it could explode. Brian's attention was however stolen by the boy near him. Green eyes the color of grass narrowed in concentration like he'd die if he missed an important piece of information. He didn't know this boy. Either a transfer...a foreigner..or hopefully a new student.

It was stupid easy for him to get a stream of water to come from his wand, and he was able to fill it three quarters of the way before he got the Cinnamon and powdered Aloeswood ready to toss in whilst grabbing the white willow bark. His eyes glancing around the room and briefly landed on a few people he recognized before deeming the Cauldron ready, he tossed in the ingredients and stirred five times anticlockwise. It would sit for a minute. A minute to gaze upon the green eyed mystery boy whilst getting the next step ready.

The potion was a light brown as sand in Brian's hour glass fell, the last grain falling as he dropped the first of six rose petals into the brew. Each one needed to dissolve before the next went in and it didn't take long. Each dissolved quickly and he once again was brought to stirring. Once clockwise before dropping a single slice of frozen ashwinder egg and stirring it until it dissolves with everything else and the brew turned a pink color. He watched the brew intensely for a moment vaguely hoping the potion turned green...maybe that was his curiosity talking. Maybe something more. He'd be thirteen in a few months and so what if he noticed the younger boy was slightly...adorable. Pure fact, an observation.

The final step listed on the board was his favorite as he enjoyed the Motar and Pestle. Parsley, rosemary, sage, and thyme that were so obviously fresh...grind to a perfect powder before going in the cauldron. His blue eyes watching the others as they finished this final step. Some however seemed to be having trouble.

He smirked as he set it to boil and sat down to relax.

His mind went to the description of the potion though. The fact that it would eventually turn the color of his true love's eyes. Green. Green. He needed to find out about the young boy who liked potions and this would give his brain a reason to stop thinking about the oddness of his desire. He could lie to himself..tell himself it was a necessity.

His curiosity was undoubtedly getting the better of him but he wasn't too worried.

* Nashira Nettlebed

    (04/10/2019 at 14:07)
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Nashira Nettlebed was no nurse.

The well-being of others ranked pretty low on her metaphorical list of priorities -- and not at all on the many tangible lists of various priorities she'd written out over the past few years. But, there were two important reasons why she was here today. The first stood close to the front of the room. Even when Nash wasn't looking directly at Maria Teodora Wittington, she seemed acutely aware of where the Gryffindor was, like a beacon so bright there would always be a glare of light angling from Nashira's heart to Téo's eyes. The second reason, surprisingly, was far more selfless -- and that was rather unique for someone like herself, usually driven by pragmatic self-interest. Last term, the nurses of the Hogwarts Hospital Wing had helped Nashira Nettlebed out of a terrible situation of her own making. This summer, in her own small way, she was paying them back.

It seemed it wouldn't be too difficult. As far as potions went, this one was quite rudimentary. Even someone like Lupin Sol couldn't mess it up, though he seemed doubtful enough to sit by her once more.

(Annoyance with him came more as a habit now -- whenever he took that seat next to her at Hogwarts it stole away her chances of Teo sitting by her that day.)

Blue eyes moved to the other Nettlebed standing just further off with a pang of jealousy. It was to Vega that her annoyances should now turn; apart from being a terrible sister, now that she was back, it was likely Teo would gravitate right back to her next term, leaving Nashira devoid of all the opportunities she had failed to truly seize over the past year.

(But maybe with this potion and a new set of gobstones something could one day be arranged…)

Her brow furrowed in concentration as Nashira stirred and sliced and ground. Strands of blonde hair loosened from her bun, falling hirsute around the sharp angles of her focused features. Lost in thoughts, plans and machinations, she didn't notice Lupin had turned toward her until his voice roused her with a start. Heart leaping with a sharp exhale, she looked up at him with hard eyes and parted lips pursing. As he concluded his question, her eyes fell to the herbs he'd been grinding.

"You should grind them a bit more," Though the recipe didn't specify a consistency, Nashira preferred to bare down on her mortar and pestle until naught was left but a fine powder. She lifted the mortar with two fingers to show him her own work-in-progress -- incomplete but further along than Lupin's nonetheless.

"Another minute should do it." Or half that for someone practically twice as large as herself.



* Avery Elliot

    (04/10/2019 at 23:38)
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This seemed made for disaster. He seemed made for disaster. The Tower hummed vibrant in his waning moon spread this morning and Avery wasn’t sure what he was waiting for. It twisted his energy tight as a bowstring, waiting to either be released or -- snapped. He moved through a crowd that was too close, too loud, too wrapped in the idea of true love.

“We’ll be brewing a love potion today.” Avery shifted his weight uneasily near the front, where he could almost pretend the press of everyone else was nonexistent.

"When did you get here? -- And more importantly, couldn't you have found somewhere else to stand?"

Except, Vega could never be reduced to background noise, he could never powder her with cleansing rosemary. She spoke in paprika and ritual fire, where her complaint burned beside him.  Black tourmaline was heavy in his pocket, blue lace agate turning absently in his fingers.

“No,” he replied as his gaze darted towards her, pocketing the agate before she could snatch it from him and throw it throw it further than he could see throw it off the roof throw it into the cauldron fire just to watch it burn like she did to everything kindly given. The Moon bright in her.

Avery didn’t bother attempting his own, rocking back on his heels as Vega moved with ease he never would have with these potions meant to bend reality, perception, emotions like they could be bottled. He supposed, in this magic, they could be.

One. He put the herbs into the mortar, trying to ignore the prickle of her gaze.

Two. He decided not to comment on her worse-than-normal temper.

Three. "Haven't you ever heard of a haircut?"

Four. “I’m offended you haven’t noticed, I just got one.” (A lie: it had been months. She hadn’t been around to notice the change then.)

Five. "I could do it for you, if you like."

Six. “I don’t think I’d like it, but you can try.”

He poured the ground mixture in once the concoction turned pink. Avery looked at her then, “What do you think a love potion has to do with healing?”
You carry the heavens in your eyes
(Like one of those old Greek tragedies)
and I'd call you Atlas but
he wasn't given a choice to hold the stars
(You were.)

* Maria Teodora Wittington

    (04/11/2019 at 11:15)
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Staying towards the front, nearer Vega than the two other counselors, Téo surveyed the, well, horde of teenagers and pre-teens present. Really, she shouldn’t have been surprised, considering their subject matter. Of course, they would have this many sign-ups, and it was here, that she spared a glance to her two younger co-counselors (lingering just a little on Lia).

If pushed, she’d soundly lay blame for the idea of focusing on love potions on them (except, admittedly, she had been too curious to pass it up also), but in reality, she couldn’t remember which came up with the idea or found the original potion instructions. She did know it had been Lia and herself that started towards it, had worked on it and tested it and then--

"Yes, probably,"

--that whole ordeal had happened.

Téo was already smiling though, because it was something that came naturally to her, especially when faced with having to teach or care for others (in this case though, she was wondering if she’d have to do some corralling of hormones instead, like her aunt’s horses needed to be, except not for hormones).

As Lia explained, Téo, feather-light, had touched Vega’s arm briefly as she passed by her, noticing the glare she was giving the younger girl. But even as she passed, she could see out the corner of her eye who was standing there, what had distracted Vega instead. She’d heard about him. Heard of Vega’s irritations with him. But Téo had never, really, seen Avery Elliott.

Until now.

Though she didn’t want to look, she didn't, but she had involuntarily paused in her steps, appearing as if she was just overseeing that portion of the class. But she wasn’t. She really didn’t want to look, but the thing inside her, that was laced throughout her entire being, did. Dark eyes had sharpened on blond curls, soft lines--hazy, almost--he was pretty. There was something there that faintly reminded her of Thijs Märchen, but it was only the lightest of touches about him. Because there was an edge there, a tension, she could practically see. A tension, she wanted to say, was held tighter because of the girl standing next to him, but she couldn’t really say that (she didn't want to say that), not with it being the first time she had encountered him.

She really wished the first time hadn’t been with him standing right next to Vega Nettlebed.

But there he was anyway, there Vega was anyway, and she couldn’t stop the slight arch of an eyebrow at her best friend, hearing her words. It was like being punched in the gut, except the painful knot in her stomach never went away. But it let her rip herself away, forcefully shifting the glint in dark eyes away from them both.

Sometimes she hated the artist.

Remembering her own role in the study, Téo continued walking around the room, “As Lia said, we’re here to help, and I’ll be going around to see how you all are doing.” her voice, to her own amazement, sounded normal, despite the rapid beating of her heart. Her tone had managed to be steady, light, her accent smoothly rolling over her words, “So don’t be afraid to reach out to me.”

In particular, she kept an eye on young Lysander Stone, remembering his efforts in the Wing. Passing by each table in turn, offering an encouraging smile (mostly to the younger kids), or giving some students (Bracken Thomas) a warning look, to not on purpose make this study anymore explosive than it already was.

Interestingly, as she passed by Nashira and Lupin, an eyebrow arched again, but for a different Nettlebed this time. Passing close enough behind Nashira so she could, without even Lupin hearing, say, “You’re being very helpful today.”

Her voice was teasing, of course, and she moved on (after remembering she was supposed to check their potions and did so). She also made sure to stop by Olette’s table, touching the other girl’s upper arm, fleetingly, and spoke just as quietly as she had done not two minutes ago, “Let me know if you need help.” her fellow counselor got a much brighter, warmer version of the encouraging one she had been giving others.

“What do you think a love potion has to do with healing?”

Mierda,” Téo muttered under her breath, having not realized she had made it back to the front already, and she’d, unfortunately, heard him. At least his words seemed innocent enough. Unlike the person that supposedly found him highly annoying offering to cut his damned hair.

She thought about stepping in, because she knew the answer to his question, knew what the healing aspect of the potion was, and so, she could have stepped in, saved her best friend from having to answer such a question. She could have. It was her natural instinct to do so.

She didn’t move.

Mostly because she wanted to know Vega’s reaction. She wanted to hear Vega’s answer. Not just an in general answer, but Vega's answer to Avery Elliott. Brown eyes, appearing much lighter in the sun that streamed through large windows, never left her best friend.




Just to reiterate: if you do intend to have your character sneak out the potion, please shoot one of us a PM for approval (just so we don't have everybody leaving with one, as fun as that chaos might be though!).

Téo will be continuously moving about the room, should you need her, please feel free to get her attention.

As a reminder, the next update will be Sunday, April 14th.

* Vega Nettlebed

    (04/14/2019 at 15:26)
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He had not just gotten a haircut. She would have noticed if he had.

She wondered why it was that he always felt like he had to lie to her, even about something so trivial and obvious as that. She wondered whether it was her fault, the fact that he always lied to her, and she wondered why she cared at all.

“I don’t think I’d like it, but you can try.”

"I will, then. Tomorrow. I'll come to your cab--"

He poured his ground herbs into her cauldron. Her cauldron.

Vega Nettlebed did not like sharing at the best of times. She had grown up with three sisters, and had been sandwiched somewhere in the middle, right between Maia and, much to both of their dissatisfaction, Nashira. Sharing was something that they had all had to do -- between themselves and their horde of cousins -- throughout their childhood, and it was something that she bristled at now, bordering on adulthood. No, Vega did not like sharing, and she particularly did not like sharing her potions. She could do this with her eyes closed. Avery, she knew, could not.

He was going to ruin this for her, like he ruined everything else he touched.

"What the hell do you think--"

“--a love potion has to do with healing?”

He finished the end of her sentence. He did it all wrong, of course, for that was not at all what she had been going to say; but it was a question good enough to give her pause, and so she did, letting the anger die on her lips.

"It doesn't," she answered after a beat, full of scorn for both the idea of it and the girl that she was sure was behind the so-called case study today. "It's an excuse for people," blue eyes redirected once more to Lia Ayres before they returned to Avery, "--to throw themselves at each other." Vega became suddenly and painfully aware of Téo not so far away; near enough, certainly, to hear their conversation. She didn't need to wonder whether her best friend had been listening; she suspected that she knew the answer without needing to look up to check, just like she knew Téo was watching her now. Blue eyes rested not on the boy at her side or the girl across from her, but on her tainted potion, under the pretence of watching for it to come to a boil.

More sharply than she intended, and to the pink liquid beginning to bubble, "It's more likely to break hearts than heal them, if you ask me."


* Avery Elliot

    (04/15/2019 at 08:50)
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"I will, then. Tomorrow -" Avery stifled a wince, already regretting what he signed up for. It would, undoubtedly, end in absolute disaster. (Just like today.)

The details of Vega’s hair massacre were cut off as he poured the crushed mixture in and instantly - it was a pluck against a guitar string, it shuddered through him full of noise and screeching disgust - he knew he had done wrong. Though prickliness and disinterest were a given, it rarely progressed to anger with Vega. Avery felt it sharp and sudden, the only warning was in her eyes that he only dared to glance at once.

She didn’t have to say anything at all and Avery would have known to leave, to duck, to dart out of the way if she decided to up-end the potion onto the floor. Vega was memories of white-hot anger and shadow-dark laughter, with Avery caught between. It was dust on his tongue and a buzzing in his ears. His hand searched for his tourmaline.

The vitriol in her voice would have silenced him was he not halfway through speaking and the fact she fell silent only made him stumble to finish. Even afterwards, in the stretch of silence she allowed, Avery stared at her, hesitation evident as he balanced on seeing if she would answer and apologizing. The rising crescendo of students held him in place, a butterfly damp with rain.

She spoke and his shoulders relaxed. The accusation had been redirected and the thunderstorm cleared without striking. He felt the tingles of its electricity in his veins -- his heart stuttered back to its normal pace. Avery breathed out slowly as he followed her gaze to a group of people that he didn’t particularly have any opinion of but she certainly did. He made a noncommittal noise in response to this evaluation.

"It's more likely to break hearts than heal them, if you ask me."

Avery rubbed a thumb over the corner of his tourmaline, pressing the point into his palm, as he considered her words. While he believed that love was healing in nature, the strength of it in its purest and healthiest form was almost unmatched, Avery was inclined to agree that falsified love could do nothing helpful.

As Vega stared at the potion like it was the only thing she could ever love (that was probably dramatic, but Avery was beginning to think it would only turn the colour of her cauldron), he replied, “If anything, it may drive people to be more honest with their emotions. That, at least, can be healing. Even if it’s breaking a heart so they can move on.” A pause and he added, “That is, if this love potion makes you want to confess your love or act on it, and doesn’t just make you infatuated with the first person you set eyes on.”
You carry the heavens in your eyes
(Like one of those old Greek tragedies)
and I'd call you Atlas but
he wasn't given a choice to hold the stars
(You were.)

* Maria Teodora Wittington

    (04/16/2019 at 03:51)
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Brown eyes, looking more amber as the sunlight hit them, looked away from her best friend at her answer, tried not to roll said eyes in amusement and utter lack of surprise at Vega Nettlebed’s answer (she failed). Though some of Téo’s humor faltered a little at the last bit, but she didn’t look back, instead, glancing towards Lia and Marilyn. Lia was busy demonstrating the potion itself, and Marilyn, well, she eyed the girl, much like she had Lysander. The two Hufflepuffs were not known for their skill in the apothecary section of the Wing.

Deciding, that maybe, the younger girl might appreciate a switch up, she smoothly took Marilyn’s spot next to Lia. Though, she did glance at Lia a little bit like she might be a bomb (a tiny, blonde bomb). Giving a nod to Marilyn instead, Téo hoped that she, discreetly, had just tagged herself in and Marilyn out onto the floor. The Hufflepuff would now do what she had, and Téo took over the job of commanding the group's attention.

If she didn’t already have it.

“Now,” here Téo’s voice changed, the stronger, lower tones she had used on at least one person in the room before coming through. “Your potion, by now, should be a soft pink shade like Lia’s here,” While giving an indicating nod in the girl’s direction, and only briefly meeting green eyes, Téo’s attention went back out to everyone else. “Or, even, like those roses over there.” she started rolling up the sleeves of her shirt, and so nodded towards the tables behind the group, filled with an array of ingredients.  “Don’t panic if it’s not, just raise your hand and one of us we’ll be over.”

Exactly why Téo was rolling up the sleeves a fitted, button-up shirt, tucked loosely into denim shorts. She was not, however, going to guarantee they could fix whatever someone might’ve done to their potion. Téo’s smile had become considerably more playful though, as it curved red lips, and continued, “And now comes the fun part.”

She leaned forward on her hands, resting on the table she and Lia were both at, a very casual, relaxed stance, “From the three tables, you’re going to choose the next ingredients. Three, only, no more and no less. But whatever you want.”

Biting her lower lip as she straightened back up, apparently enjoying this part of the lesson, and her mood didn’t even twitch when she glanced to Lia, since she had to get three of whatever from the tables too (as long as she refused to look over at her best friend, Téo’s mood remained steady), “You can pick three red carnations, or two apples and--" What the hell else did they have over there? Her hands had found their way to her hips, observing the tables, “--one cacao bean. Whatever catches your eye. Don’t think too much about it.”

There were signs above each table, informing them of just what they had to choose from, and, maybe for some people, what they were even looking at and smelling:


   Floral Table  - lemon verbena leaves | whole carnations in every color | white gardenia petals | crushed jasmine | burnt aster

   Fruit Table   - apples | beets | cherries | figs | orange slices

   Others Table - cacao beans | sun-warmed calendula oil (in the small ceramic vials) | tiny satchel bags of lavender and patchouli  | jars of honey | star anise


As the class dispersed to gather the three remaining ingredients of the potion, Téo spared another glance at Lia, unable to control her smile, even if she wasn’t too sure about Lia Ayres after the whole testing disaster, the mood was too natural for Téo to slip from so quickly.

Once everyone had settled again, including Lia, Téo continued, and this time, directions (with a discreet flick of her wand), appeared in the air above and behind herself and Lia). “Once you’ve got your chosen ingredients, prepare them as you see fit, and add each, one at a time, being sure to stir twice between each one.” She purposefully did not specify in which direction to stir, this part of the potion was entirely subjective, left up to instinct and feel of the one brewing it.


Choose only three ingredients from the provided supplies.


Add each ingredient to the cauldron, one at a time,
stirring twice between each add-in.







Choose only three ingredients from the provided supplies.
Add each ingredient to the cauldron, one at a time, stirring twice between each add-in.



Firstly, sorry for the belated update! Secondly, in case instructions were hard to read, normal text version is above.

Also, if there's any confusion, your character is allowed to choose exactly three ingredients, and they can all be the same thing, all different, or a mix. Additionally, your character has free reign on how they want to prepare/add the ingredients, but feel free to have one of them ask! Téo's on purpose not being obvious.

Of course, also feel free to not be perfect! Mess things up, bug Téo, Mari, or Lia, or just make a mess. Above all, have fun with it and try not to destroy the cathedral too much!

Any questions or what have you, don’t hesitate to PM myself, Lia, or Mari! Next update will be: Sunday, April 21st.

* Vega Nettlebed

    (04/16/2019 at 22:03)
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It was funny, she thought, that Avery Elliot, of all people, was lecturing her on the benefits of people being honest with their emotions.

It was funny, she thought, because he was full of cryptic comments and hidden meanings that lay concealed between shards of clear crystal and in petal-stained notes and behind kisses both under mistletoe and not. It was funny, she thought, that he -- despite his tarot cards and polished stones -- couldn't see far enough to take his own damn advice.

“That is, if this love potion makes you want to confess your love or act on it, and doesn’t just make you infatuated with the first person you set eyes on.”

She thought about commenting on this -- something silly about how a love potion was the only way he was ever going to find someone willing to be with him, perhaps, or something more provoking, like that if he wanted to confess his love for her, he could just get on with it already -- but everything she tried out in her head didn't land quite right, and she wasn't prepared to risk failure, not when it was Avery that she was up against.

Vega was saved, as always, by Téo.

“From the three tables, you’re going to choose the next ingredients. Three, only, no more and no less. But whatever you want.”

"Do not touch the potion." This was not to Téo, but to Avery. "Do not try and cleanse the potion. Do not add a handful of quartz. Do not even look at it until I get back." That last one might have been a joke, but she wasn't smiling, and there was a part of her that really was convinced that Avery had enough crazy in him to mess her hard work up just by staring a little too thoughtfully at it. She'd already risked enough with his herbs. Vega wasn't taking any more chances.

When she left for the tables at the back, it was with one final warning glance in his direction. And even when she properly turned to gather the final ingredients, she still checked back every few seconds or so to check that he hadn't run amok whilst she wasn't there to supervise him.

"Okay." At his side once more, she set her chosen three ingredients (she hadn't chosen them so much as they had chosen her) down on the worktop and glanced back at the instructions.

First, the yellow carnation. She challenged him with her eyes but not her mouth, as she let the flower fall into the liquid, to try and comment on this first choice. Two stirs, anti-clockwise.

Second, an orange slice, sticky citrus against her fingertips. Two stirs, clockwise.

Third, a cacao bean, rich and warm and slightly bitter. She searched for Téo then, and the faintest smile curled when she found her. Two stirs, clockwise.

As they waited, Avery and Vega, for the next instruction, "You better not have touched it."

Lysander Stone

    (04/18/2019 at 21:20)
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Quiet energy seemed to have seeped from the farthest walls of the church and seeped into is being. The energy seemed to whisper that he could jump ten feet in their air if he wished. He wished instead to brew a potion that would make girls like him. It was easy - easy as no potion had been before. Consumed as he was by the natural rhythm of a potion gone right, Sandy was shocked to hear the younger boy speak.

It took a moment for his manic eyes to focus on the boy. He looked very brown. Sandy's head was still clouded by potion-thoughts, and thus he struggled to understand how his boy was to be used in the potion. At the completion of his tasks, Sandy's hands seemed to buzz with eagerness to continue.

"Sure, I - guess. I don't know as much as them but," he nodded to the girls who were acting as instructors. He would never, he knew, be as talented as Lia.

It was difficult to focus on the boy while focusing on the potion. Sandy felt his mind dragged away several times by the focus which had taken him and jolted back when the boy moved in his periphery or spoke or made noise. He persevered - and Sandy noted that the potion that he and the newcomer had made together looked considerably more alike to Lia's than the one he had made on his own.

Without warning, his focus snapped from the potion to the boy. He was intensely curious. Sandy wished to know all the things about him. In the fervent act of potion-making, it wasn't clear what had and had not been said between them.

"Did I ask your name? I'm Lysander. Sandy."

There was another snap - Lysander's focus was on the foreign girl. He had not known she was speaking until she had finished. It was fortunate that the instructions were written or else he may have never finished the potion. His attention continued to follow its own path unbidden and Lysander was happy to follow the trail it laid. He strode to the three tables and his attentive hands worked on their own to select ingredients.

"Hey," he addressed his brewing-mate when they had both returned to their tools, "why'd you pick that stuff?"

Sandy watched the boy intently as his hands worked. They ground a cocoa bean into soft dust, heated a glop of honey until it was browned and gluey, and peeled the fine membranous outer skin from a fig. He could not say why these things correct, yet he was certain of their correctness.

He added the dust first, stirring so slowly that a skin grew over the now purplish potion. Likewise, the fig membrane's stirs were slow and carefully steady. By the time it came to add honey, even the caramelized substance did not sport enough weight to break the hardening skin over the potion. Sandy pushed the stuff into the heart of the brew and gave two solid spins of the stirring rod.

"You travelling good?" he asked of Arthur.
i just gotta stick this landing

* Lupin Sol

    (04/19/2019 at 23:21)
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"You should grind them a bit more-"

"Lovely," he said. His voice cracked. Even if he had tried to force an easy-going response, it was a sign that he was not up for feeling inadequate by the superior witch. Her sharp exhale clashed with the deflating, flat one pressed through the parted sliver between his lips.

"Another minute should do it."

"Thanks," came the short reply. By then, Lupin had already looked away and kept his eyes on his own work after catching a quick glance at her progress. He sighed once more, taking solace in at least being able to mask his unease in a one-syllable word soaked in faked, cheery gratitude. He was content to mashing his ingredients even harder, his wrist making furious circles as his face grew tight.

A minute or so later, because it was not like he was counting down the seconds in his mind, the Gryffindor dropped the ingredients in the cauldron and let the flame of the Bunsen burner rise to get the mixture to begin bubbling. He waited with his arms crossed over his chest, feet planted firmly on the floor with his knees spaced out as he waited somewhat impatiently. Every couple of breaths, Lupin would lean forward to check to see if the color looked like the one in Nash's.

Such were the luxuries of altitude, where you can sneak such peeks.

Such was his restlessness at this, his poorest skill, that he would not let breathing come easy even when it simmered into a pale, pink stew.

There was only a small window of time that existed between him sitting up and the announcement of the next announcement of the lesson. Getting his eyes forward, Lupin lept at the opportunity to slide of his seat to be able to do a far simpler task. He decided to with one from each of the three tables: the beady collection of white gardenia petals, an squishy orange slice, and one of the jars of honey.

He poured in the honey first, because it seemed like the most tenuous. It slide slowly, held aloft upside down by the bottom of the jar, keeping to its edge even if it was held as it was. Lupin's reactions proved to be ever so helpful when a blob of the substance free-fell and plopped. It sent some of the unfinished potion erupting from the cauldron, enough to steam the top of the table but luckily not enough to get on Nash's side.

Lupin made sure not to meet her gaze, dropping the jar and rushing his stir before throwing in the petals. Another rushed pair of rotations had ruin almost befall him once more as the flow of potion rose right at the rim, dripping some but not splashing it over.

Thankfully, he finished by dropping the orange slice.
oh sometimes I get So Ahead of mySELF
Feels like I'm running in (ir)les
oh and I'm just holding onto my breath
I need Smoke just to exHALE

howmanysoulsdoyoutouchaday?

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