| Title: The little potions masters. Time: Thursday, March 25, 2004 The Thespians: Elijah Cruise and Pascal Curio Location: Allis Memorial Center - Auditorium and Practical Magics - Basement; Potions Classroom Notes: This will not make sense if you don't read the log right before this one about button mashing. So go read it, or the end of it or something. The whole scene starts from "And the button masher becomes the mashee." |
| +---[ Allis Memorial Center - Auditorium ]-----------------------------------+ | | | A vast catacomb of what appear at first sight to be stiff backed oaken | | chairs stretch out, lined in neat rows but movable, allowing for users to | | change the seating positions should need be. The rug is an enchanting | | azure, smooth as an untossed sea yet soft as the down of a baby chick. | | Toward the front of the vast room, a platform with stairs on its left and | | right sides rises up, the area for speakers and presenters to get the full | | attention of those watching. About the stage, several rows of enormous | | curtains - yellow, red, black, and green - can be drawn across, as well as | | partial dividers, allowing for a vast amount of events to be able to | | occur. | | | +----------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |
| Pascal's eyes light up at the mention of fun, and for a split second she's forgotten about her bet. She quickly remembers though, and the light in her eyes fades just slightly. Her brow furrows in determination; she's determined not to let a little bet stop her from having fun, or watching someone else have fun. Maybe Elijah can do all the dirty work or something. She can act as the director. Back to the bird, and back to the cat. "So what, you didn't really see the falcon?" She sounds slightly disappointed and hardly waits for him to respond. She doesn't even say anything about him insulting Samson; she just narrows her eyes at him again. "What kind of /fun/ are you talking of?" She asks, sliding her question in casually as she looks away from him yet again to brush at an invisible speck of dust on her robe. He's too observant though, he can probably tell that she's questioning it. |
| "Nope, I never saw the falcon..." Elijah states. One has to wonder /why/ then he knew its eye color. He clears his throat, "Someday though, probably, right? I mean... one day... as long as it exists..." He glances around, "Pascal, it's April fool's day! Come on! We have to pull something HUGE! And then even Professor Farreau can't blame us." He beams, "I need ideas of what to pull though. I'm fresh out, otherwise I'd have had my revenge by now..." |
| "It exists," Pascal replies with a tone that speaks, 'Don't question me', propping one foot on top of the other. Lucky guess about the eye colour then, and she shrugs that off. She didn't forget about April Fool's, though she wished that she could have. "Something big enough so that even Farreau can't blame us for doing." She tilts her head so far to one side that it's about resting on her shoulder. She's thinking she is, with her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. |
| "Agreed. It has to be huge." Elijah begins rubbing his hands together. "Massive even." A pause, "I already did the love potion, so we can't do that. I wonder... is there something we can do specifically to the faculty. See, they're always the challenging ones," the boy strokes his somewhat stubbly chin. "They are nearly impossible to get with anything. Our fellow students are easy targets, but the Professors, not at all." Eli's eyes twinkle as he speaks. So exciting! "But how? What can we do..." |
| Dungbombs would have been so awesome, had Pascal been, oh, twelve again. She continues to sit with her head tilted to the size, chewing furiously on her lip in thought, her forehead deeply wrinkled as her brows furrow together. "We--" Wait, she can't /do/ anything naughty, dammit, "You ought to do something nasty to their offices," she mulls for a moment, and then shakes her head. "No, bigger." |
| "Me? You're not gonna help?" What fun was that? "That sucks." Elijah frowns. "You're totally going to miss out." It was more fun to have a partner in crime. He shakes his head, "Fine, miss out, it's gonna be awesome, whatever I do." He massages his temples as he continues to think. "What about some sort of potion in their coffee... like an aging potion or something?" he suggests. Even if Pascal wouldn't do it with him, her feedback was appreciated. |
| Pascal straightens her neck and stares at Elijah calmly, not addressing his little statement about her missing out. "How quickly can you whip up an aging potion?" She asks, letting her head fall back lazily to the side. She can't participate in the fun, and she can't tell him, and it's driving her insane. She's got her hands behind her back thankfully, and she can clench them into fists out of sight. She frowns, suddenly thinking of something. "Oh, if you had come to me three weeks ago, we could have made polyjuice potions!" Her eyes flash, and then she falls quiet, clearly disappointed that /that/ plan won't work out. |
| "You don't think we could whip one up /now/ do you? I mean there are two of us... I know I probably couldn't do it alone this late..." Elijah sits up slightly in his chair. "I think we could figure out a way to get it into the staff room, although we might need to bend tonnes of rules." He strokes his chin, "I could put together an aging potion before the end of the day if I worked my ass off." He shrugs. "Which do you think would be better?" |
| This is going to be tricky. Pascal looks at Elijah and stares past him for a moment. She would love to do this. And she probably will, but at the same time, she needs to make sure she's only just watching Elijah, and not actually doing anything. "I'm not a potions whiz," she says, stretching the truth just a little. "I've got a couple of textbooks," stolen from her godfather and hidden in her dorm trunk, "That have got the recipe for it." Another pause and she focuses on Elijah. "We should probably search the potions closet. Maybe that fat wha-- I mean, Ivanovna, will have the ingredients lying around." Because the Olive is probably insane like that. "And if not, onto plan number two." |
| "Bloody brilliant!" Elijah beams. Pascal just rose three levels in Elijah's books. "I like it. Let's do it. That Professor is cooky enough to leave it unlocked, too!" His eyes are now dancing with excitement. Oh the fun! "Alright, you get the book. We'll get the ingredients from her... and then use it on her!" |
| Pascal Curio slowly removes one foot from the chair, followed by the other. All this having to pre-judge all her movements was slowly starting to get on her nerves. She stands up and claps her hands together slightly. "We still need to get something. Some hair of whatever we want to turn them all into." Her eyes flash for a moment and she grins. "Why not an animal of some sort?" But before he can even respond, she's continued speaking. "I'll go look for the book first though, so you know what ingredients you'll need." |
| "I have no idea what hair to use. If only we could get one of the Professor's hairs..." he bites his lower lip as he contemplates this. "It's probably best to find a hair that can't be connected with either of us..." Elijah strokes his chin some more. "And yes, go get the book, then we'll think this through some more." |
| Pascal Curio nods at Elijah before she turns away, and then quickly strides out of Auditorium and towards her dorm room, her hand reaching for the silver chain hung around her neck as she leaves. So all she had to do was find the book, and give it to Elijah. Then she would just have to sit there and watch. This would probably be harder to do, but she was just conspiring, and not exactly /implementing/ the practical joke. No thought police around here to arrest her for conspiracy, hopefully. All these thoughts continued through her mind all the way to her dorm room and back. A few minutes after she leaves, Pascal strides back into the auditorium, an old brown leather book in her hand which she holds up semi-victoriously. "So, any ideas who's hair we're going to use?" |
| "I was thinking just whoever's hair we find. We should look around for brushes, combs, and the like." A pause as Elijah raises an eyebrow, "Do you have roommates? We /could/ collect one of the people from dorms hair... they all have brushes and the like around..." He smirks. "It's brilliant. We'll just use the first hair we find..." |
| "We should just scour the halls for a single strand of hair. Makes it a surprise for us to when they drink it and start transforming hmm?" Pascal comments lightly, holding out the book for Elijah. She's apparently also decided to phrase everything in a question, so that she can't be held accountable for anything. No swaying or biasing in the decision making process either. "You think about that, and we should probably head towards the potions classroom, so we can see if she actually did leave those supplies hanging around, huh?" |
| Something about the way Pascal was talking reminded Elijah of his adopted parents. Oh yes, the questions! He shakes it off and lets it go. Maybe it was a girl thing? Girls did act weird sometimes. "Yes, let's go to the potions classroom. Keep your eyes open for a hair along the way..." |
| He still hasn't taken the book, so Pascal just flips it towards him. "Think fast," she quips lightly, and then turns to head back out of the Auditorium and for the potions classroom. "Let's go then. No time like now, since it'll probably take forever to find those bloody ingredients. I'll keep a look out for any professors that decide to come wandering along, alright?" See, at least Pascal's found a position for herself where she can pretend to be doing something, but is actually not doing anything. |
| "If that's what you /really/ want to do..." Elijah states somewhat puzzled. He manages to catch the book before it hits him in the head. "Hey, is this the book I returned to you?" he asks as he follows her towards the potions classroom. He flips through the pages as he walks and finds the potion instructions. "It doesn't look too hard, if we can find everything." |
| "I already told you I'm no good at potions," Pascal says again over her shoulder as she starts to walk down the hall, her eyes scanning the ground rather intently, trying to catch a glimpse of a hair here or there as the light would bounce off of a nearly invisible strand. "Christ. What're we going to do? Crawl on our bloody hands and knees just to find a flipping hair?" She sighs, and turns, waiting for Elijah to catch up. And while she's waiting, she stoops down on her haunches to examine the floors more closely. |
| Elijah Cruise doesn't quite believe Pascal at the mention of being no good at potions. "Sure, no good at potions, I got it." He glances at the floor. "Really I do." Pascal had lots of red, visible hair. If only he could get close enough to get one. No, he'd already said why that wouldn't work, it would be a trail back to them. With a sigh he continues to look at the floor. "Oh, I think I got one!" This particular hair was blonde in color. "What do you think?" |
| "I think it's perfect," Pascal breathes a sigh of relief. The hair had distracted Elijah from her potion abilities, and quite frankly she didn't really want to argue about whether or not she was good at potions anymore. She didn't even have to pick the hair up. Not like she would have found one anyway, all she was doing was breathing in a whole lot of dust. She stands up and brushes her robe off at the knees, and then looks up and down the hall. "So, to the potions classroom then for a little raid?" A pause. "I wonder who the hair belongs to?" Duh, Pascal. It's all part of the surprise, dum dum. |
| "The potions' classroom it is!" Elijah cheers. As he approaches, he turns the handle of the door, and it's unlocked! Yes! The plan has not yet been thwarted. The boy sets the book down on a bench, leaving it open to the appropriate page. "Time to find the ingredients." He mumbles them to himself and then repeats the list one more time. "Pascal, give me a hand?" |
| Pascal Curio follows Elijah into the room, automatically moving to pick up the book as he sets it down on the page. Her green eyes scan the page quickly, flitting over the ingredients. "Alright. Think she'll have lacewing flies stewed for twenty one days in that old cupboard of hers?" The way Pascal's talking, she seems to think that the crazy Olive will actually have those ingredients in the room. |
| "Probably. She seems like she would. Really weird..." Elijah grabs a cauldron from a shelf and places it on the bench next to the book (for now). "So... what did you think of Kit?" That was a loaded question. Why did he make such conversation? Even he wondered at times. "I'm sure you had a good chat once I left." Not likely. The one thing Eli was never good at dealing with was females. |
| Now would probably not be a good time to tell Elijah about that little barbed whip she stole from the potions professor, so his little question about Kit is rather welcome to Pascal. "I don't think she likes me much," Pascal says frankly, and then laughs. She shrugs and looks back at the book, her fingers tracing down the list to the next ingredient. "Can't make everyone like me though, now can I?" Seriously now she looks at him for a moment. "She seems like a nice enough person though," though if she were being truthful or not, one couldn't know. "She didn't stick around once you left. She looked kind of miffed that you did, actually." Oh, there was /so/ much else Pascal could say, but couldn't because of damn, circumstances. "You'll need leeches as well for the potion," she diverts the topic back. |
| "She's cool. Got a good sense of humor. Very good humored. I don't think she liked me at first either." Elijah rummages through the drawers looking for various supplies. He glances at one of the shelves, "We've got leeches." He swallows hard, "We're not looking for /nice/ though, are we? We're looking for strong. And from what I can see she's very strong... if we can get her onside." He shrugs, "I can't please the world. I had things to do." Things. The truth is, Elijah didn't even remember the excuse he gave. |
| Pascal Curio isn't exactly looking for having everyone on her side either, but she begrudgingly does have to agree with Elijah. "Oh, she's definitely got strong qualities about her," the red-head quips lightly, with a small smirk. "What do you mean though, if we can get her outside?" She looks up from the book only briefly, and then looks at the shelf with the leeches on it. "Any stewed lacewing flies then?" They /are/ here for a reason, being other than to talk about Kit. Still, Pascal can't help but slide this in, as 'nicely' as she can. "She seems to have a soft spot for you." Push the button. |
| "Right, lacewing flies..." Elijah glances around the room. "Here!" he points triumphantly. It was going to work! He places his hands on his hips and grins from ear to ear. He leaves the onside question alone, but blinks in response to the soft spot remark. "I was the only one who really talked to her when she came, that's all," he shrugs nonchalantly. "Looks like the potion will work then," he states, changing the subject. |
| A smirk crosses Pascal's features, though whether it's to Elijah's response to her comment, or his little triumphant look at finding the lace-wing flies is unclear. "Don't crow too loudly," she continues in that truthful sort of way. "You still need to find fluxweed for the potion too. But not just any fluxweed." She sighs and runs her fingers through her hair before she flips a page in the book. A pause for dramatic effect, no doubt. "You need to find fluxweed picked at a full moon." Hope Ivanovna's really crazy now. She makes another small comment about Kit before her full attention's back on the task at hand. "Maybe she improves on better acquaintance." Yes, and tomorrow, Pascal and Kit, best friends for LIFE. |
| The little potions masters. (Part 2) |
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