Horace Slughorn (
jointheclub) wrote in
witchesreign2013-01-28 11:28 am
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
Potions and Items, Desperately Needed [Open]
[The Itemcrafting classroom looks like something out of The Sword in the Stone today, with beakers, cauldrons, tubes, liquids, chests, and sundry supplies all floating around in midair, almost but not quite bumping into each other. On one side of the classroom, knives furiously chop away at roots, stalks, and bulbs; on another, large tongs stir boiling cauldrons. In the midst of all this, Slughorn directs traffic with his wand, hurrying here and there to check this process or temper this reaction.]
[Truth be told, Slughorn is running himself raw, between days of gathering up students on the Island and nights of making items and potions to repair the damage they've done to themselves. A very uncharacteristic scowl seems to have landed permanently on his face, and he is constantly mopping at the shine on his increasingly-mottled forehead. In fact, one might almost say he's showing his age...]
Don't even know why I came out of retirement. What am I, a Healer?
[He flicks his wand irritably, sending two completed sleeping draughts and a half-dozen Potions flying into a box.]
[Truth be told, Slughorn is running himself raw, between days of gathering up students on the Island and nights of making items and potions to repair the damage they've done to themselves. A very uncharacteristic scowl seems to have landed permanently on his face, and he is constantly mopping at the shine on his increasingly-mottled forehead. In fact, one might almost say he's showing his age...]
Don't even know why I came out of retirement. What am I, a Healer?
[He flicks his wand irritably, sending two completed sleeping draughts and a half-dozen Potions flying into a box.]
no subject
[He trails off, the moogle sitting and racking his brain to think about what else he's seen. He's not one of the ones brewing the potions, so he only got to watch other people do it. Well, and got to hunt for all the ingredients.]
I... wanna say there's a pinch of dreamhare fluff?
no subject
[He lifts up one of the familiar healing items native to this world.]
Of this variety.
no subject
Yeah! I... wait, that's what I'm supposed to be carting to the infirmary, kupo... what is it you're making...?
no subject
no subject
[Yeah, you're basically a slightly taller, less wrinkly nu mou to him now, Slughorn.]
Sorry, I just get so used to the restorative stuff being called 'potions', and then the rest of the stuff being called what it does.
no subject
no subject
No, it's the brewing of potions and other liquids, including poisons, protective wards, and... [He trails off, again, thinking.] Okay, so maybe the making meteorites appear out of thin air is a bit different, kupo...
[...maybe you should just stop, Emias.]
no subject
no subject
O-oh! Right! Uhm, where are my manners...
[He rifles through his pockets as if he's trying to find something, then bows politely, wings flitting.]
Emias Oaks, kupo, new trainee here at the academy. It's a pleasure, Professor... uhm...
no subject
no subject
['Instructor'? Eh, he prefers the thought of the people training him actually being masters in his field, thanks.]
I've gotta get this stuff to the medics, though, so I should.. uff... [There's a slight strain - the box is almost as large as the moogle] C-cut the conversation short, unfortunately.
Hopefully we can talk again, though?
no subject
Yes, of course. No time now. Injured students to repair, troubled students to rescue. Never thought I'd be so hopeful to see the end of a break.