A Cure For What Ails [OPEN]

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[atrb=style, border-top:1px solid #303030; border-bottom:1px solid #303030;][style=float:left;padding:10px;] [/style]Outside was certainly a lovely place for study, at least on bright, sunny days with a moderate breeze at most. But it didn’t lend itself well to some subjects, such as potions. The lack of controlled ventilation could really cause problems, especially with unpleasant smells. But, despite the hazards, a young blond had taken it upon himself to work under an overcast sky in one of Hogwarts’ courtyards. Why? Well, the space helped a lot. He had his ingredients and notes spread wide enough to take up an entire table by himself, and still have plenty to distribute. His materials were given quite some safe distance from his cauldron and burner. There were already a few singed spots in the grass from some bubbling overflow as the neon orange brew boiled. From the page opened up in the singular textbook among scattered notes, it was an elixir of euphoria, though it didn’t seem quite right. It normally wasn’t a volatile concoction, but the addition of extra water and a bundled bunch of cinnamon sticks made the whole brew a little more than the small cauldron was made to handle. From his hastily scribbled notes, it wasn’t easy to tell what the whole idea was behind the changes in his brew. The aroma of the boiling potion was drifting behind him, a spicy-sweet scent that overpowered the natural scents around the area. While the potion boiled, the young man had his nose buried in another book, leaning against a wall and peeking above the pages every other paragraph. While he was waiting, it seemed he was taking a shine to the old muggle novel Don Quixote, instead of studying his divination. The divintation textbook was half-stuffed in his bookbag, with crinkled notebook pages sticking out between the pages, decorated with scribbles of frustration and half-written theses. He’d been at it for a while all ready, or so it would seem, considering just how much space he commanded, and how many tasks he was juggling in one way or another. [/style]

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TAG: open
NOTES: boring, I know… but studying alone is never fun!
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[atrb=cellSpacing,0,bTable][atrb=style, width:370px; background-color:D5D7D8;][style=text-align:center; font-family:georgia; letter-spacing:-4px; font-size:25px; text-transform:lowercase; color:#168C76; margin-bottom:-25px;]lost kids with nothing left throwing rocks in the dark[/style][classy=blood][style=margin:20px; background-color:#D7DDE1; padding:5px; font-family:arial; font-size:10px; height:300px; overflow-x:auto; color:#333; text-align:justify;]Evan sighed. He hated this book; he hated the idea of being an Auror. A slave to the ministry, basically a fucking pet. No one, no one controlled Evan Collins. Maybe he should just give up on the idea of doing anything with his life other than lead the Collins family. What else would he honestly do? He hated every position that this book had to offer. He didn’t want to work in the ministry. Maybe he’d open a muggle business, and just watch his mother go wild with it. She could do things that she did back in Cuba, well, actual that would never happen seeing as his mother had grown far to accustom of the lavish lifestyle to be selling fruit. But whatever. He closed the book, clenching it in his hands. A student bumped into him, and by then he was just done. He was done reading standing up and walking too. It certainly wasn’t the best thing the white haired male had done. He tossed the job book aside, it would find him eventually. It always did, he was beginning to wonder if his father had charmed it to find him, knowing that his lazy son would have thrown it away far too many times to count if he hadn’t. It wouldn’t find him soon, or so he hoped. Placing his hands in his Ravenclaw robe’s pockets, he moved through the courtyard swiftly, eyes scanning his path. He really didn’t want that book finding him. It was breeze, and that was messing with his hair. The normally easygoing Evan was just ticked off today. It wasn’t anyone’s fault, but that book’s. That book was the thing that Evan hated more than anything else he had ever hated in his life. He just needed to relax; contrary to stereotypical beliefs of a Ravenclaw was not to study, or well not in Evan’s case. He was too lazy and too pissed off to put his head in a book, fuck it if he got a bad grade, he could give less at this very moment. He didn’t even want to look at another book and then someone he had never seen before, happened to just have his head stuck in a book. He knew he shouldn’t have gotten himself so worked up over it, it was stupid and irrational but that just ticked him off. ”Oi, man. There’s no reason to have your fucking head in a book right now.” And he knew it had come off rude, but… He didn’t really care right now. words. 427 tags. open notes. lala [/style][/classy]

[style=font-family:Georgia; font-size:9px;]made by RIVER! of CTL and OTE[/style]

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width:500px; bTable][atrb=style, border-top:1px solid #303030;][style=float:left;color:#4c4c4c; font-family:courier new; font-size:25px; line-height:25px; margin-top:5px;]BASTION HELCLIFFE[/style][style=color:#898989; font-family:courier new; font-size:9px; text-align:right; margin-top:14px;]15 MALE HUFFLEPUFF[/style]

[atrb=style, border-top:1px solid #303030; border-bottom:1px solid #303030;][style=float:left;padding:10px;] [/style]One of his cursory peeks over the top of his book caught the sight of a Ravenclaw student with stark white hair. It wasn’t as uncommon as he once thought it was, so he wasn’t too phased. The bearer of such fair follicles was older than him, probably a sixth or seventh year student. And honestly, he didn’t know who it was. There were so many students in Hogwarts that it wasn’t unheard of to be unfamiliar with people so far separated from one’s own house and year anyway. He had intended fully to end any interaction he had with the man at a mere glance, and instead focus back on his book and his brew. Unfortunately, there was no such desire from the other half of the equation, who had spoken up with a rude, and rather unusual choice of things to say. What the Ravenclaw had said was, in Bastion’s ears, offensive. Considering the reputation of Ravenclaws for their gifted smarts, and the reputation Hufflepuff had for taking in less skilled and more slack-prone students, well, it just about sounded like the Ravenclaw was telling him to give up and just accept a failing grade like the slacker he was. How funny it was then, that the situation was quite the inverse, and that it was the Ravenclaw who was slacking and contemplating a failing grade. Reality of the situation aside, Bastion couldn’t let such a thing slide, but he also couldn’t slump down to the level of hurling stereotype-based insults at his offender. ”I apologize if my studies offend you, good sir…” Bastion’s voice was calm and level, just loud enough for a slightly hearing impaired person to hear him quite clearly. Far be it from him to have to repeat himself. Marking his book, he set it aside and stood up, taking a serene moment to brush off the rear of his robe of any stray blades of grass or specks of dirt. “But I really do have to work hard to keep my grades up. I’m sure you can appreciate the effort it takes to maintain a grade both satisfactory to your peers, as well as to yourself.” [/style]

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TAG: Ariel, Open
NOTES: Not making any friends today, are you Ariel?
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"You want /me/ to appreciate grades?" The only reason that the Ravenclaw studied was because of his mother - sure, Evan was gifted with intelligence, but that didn't stop him from getting bad grades when he slacked. Evan was lazy, much like any other genius. Things came easy to him, and well, that wasn't a challenge. It didn't really deserve his effort. Intelligence wasn't the only thing Evan had been gifted in life, he had surpassed all of the purebloods in the now half-blood, even took the position of future head of house from his cousin. After all of this, it wasn't much of a shocker that Evan had grown up smug, cocky, and even a bit arrogant. 


"Don't act like you're sorry, when clearly, you aren't." It wasn't an actually apology, the mermish speaker decided. But thinking back to it, there was no real reason for the Hufflepuff to be sorry. If Evan wasn't so pissed off over that book, he wouldn't be picking a fight right now.  


"Pleasing your peers?" Evan never tried pleasing anyone his age, or even anyone in Hogwarts. The only one the snowy haired boy wanted to please was his mother, only so he could avoid getting hit with a wooden spoon or whatever his muggle mother would have in her hand at the time. A failing grade was not something his mother would allow, at all. She expected her soon to exceed in all subjects, whether she understood what they were about or not.  "Why would I care what they think?"


Now Evan just realized, deep down inside, his just looking for a bone to pick with anyone. Little things could piss this prankster off. He shouldn't be picking on someone he thought was younger, it wasn't really worth it, and Evan would hate himself for it in the morning. It would looming over him the next day like a bad hangover. 


"Whatever kid. You just don't know about the shit I went through with books. Name's Evan and your's is?" 

Herbology had never really been the second year's strong suit. But strictly speaking, Gwyneth Irving was much more interested in what she could do with the plants rather than the actual taking care of the plants. Not that she didn't score well at the subject. Merely, the potions masters niece felt that it took much more effort to do a good job when it came to the practical aspect of the subject. It didn't help that the course required one to get one's hands dirty. Unicorn-poo-dirty. It was amusing how some muggle-borns had thought that they were made of rainbows. Rainbows for goodness sake!

It was unfortunate that extra-credits involved tasks that were just as unpleasant. Now that she had done her bit though, the second year made her way back to the castle, ready for a hot shower before heading down into the dungeons for her evening with her uncle. That was when she caught the scent of a potion being brewed... out in the courtyards? Curiosity wrestled practicality and as usual, came out victorious as the girl turned promptly on her heels and walked off in the direction the smell was coming from.

"Evan~!" cried Gwyn happily. Having just arrived on the scene, she was - of course - quite unaware of what was going on between her senior house-mate and one of her best friends. "And hello to you too, Bastion," she continued, her smile both gracious and radiant. While Gwyneth had spent more than half her holidays at her uncle's and had learned quite a bit about potions, it was anyone's guess what the potion in the cauldron was meant to be. What was obvious however, was the fact that it wasn't supposed to be spewing over the sides. No well-brewed potion was. A year's worth of potion failures had taught her that much. Something else she had learned, was that boys rarely appreciated unsolicited advice. Particularly boys who were older than she was.