diatuooc | Test Drive #5 Is Alive

Test Drive #5

Class Is In Session

The Metacurriculum of Glyphics contains within it the fine and honored art of potionmaking, in which glyphs scribed into a cauldron are distilled within a liquid especially prepared to hold the enchantment. The task is remarkably finicky, and thus not particularly utilized outside of the classroom; generations of teachers have been forced to deal with the question of "when will we ever use this in real life?!", to their inevitable despair.

A pinch of cilantro, a dash of goat hoof, stir carefully and apply liberal amounts of electricity -- and you foolishly used alternating current instead of direct. Rather than a Potion of Supreme Might, your mixture has turned a vile grey, and a dark spirit has arisen from it to tell you that your personal hygiene leaves much to be desired and that your soul is so black with sin no heaven will ever accept it. This is no good -- the syllabus explicitly states that profane manifestations of magic are only worth partial credit at best. Can you and your partner rectify your mistake before the professor pops by to see how you're doing?

Shady Business

"'Ey! You!" calls a voice from the Merchant District Alley, coming from the throat of a pop-eyed, scraggle-faced man that couldn't be a shadier character if he was real slim. On catching your attention, he motions you over. "Sees that you're wizard-likes," he says, rolling his words around in his mouth in a particularly rhythmic sort of way that doesn't disguise his inability to hold one accent for more than a phrase. "Well I've got summat'll knock your bonzer socks off. Behold!"

Sweeping one hand towards a ratty old table, he whips off a cloth to reveal a rack of weapons. Pointy swords, massive maces, warhammers that resemble the smaller historical version rather than the fantasy types one pictures dwarves with, a bow and arrows, a stiletto, any number of different implements of death. "Priced as marked," the shady guy says, "and sold as is. No refunds! Some of them are probably cursed, is what I'm hinting at. Full disclosure."

The price is so good, the risk of a curse might be worth it. Did you purchase the Sword of Flaming Death, or the Dagger of Wedgies-to-the-Wielder? Is the greataxe mighty and potent, or actually foil-covered chocolate? Choose your weapon wisely. We -- we recommend you don't pick up the one that causes you to attack the nearest person in a rage of bloodlust, but what do we know?

Etreia Day

Everyone looks forward to Etreia Day in the dining hall, that special day when the food delivered to students and staff comes from that landlocked nation deep in the Tier Mountains. Little cultural blending and spices unique to the deep peaks and valleys of the isolated country have lead to a unique and renowned cultural menu that everyone is eager to partake of.

The effect isn't magical, merely biochemical, but no one can deny that Etreian food affects human emotions significantly. Light sauces and dry-rubbed fowl are terrific for energy and mood, pushing the eater into a flurry of cheerful activity that their body will likely pay for later. Sour dishes and dark bastes produce solemn moods and inhibit playfulness. Spicy foods are something of a wildcard, pushing different people to different extremes, be they happy or sad, angry or joyous. To those who expect this, experiencing these different emotions is as much a part of the meal as the taste and texture of the food itself.

To those who don't expect this, well, it's a bit of a surprise.

Labwork

Not every magical disaster is caused by some wayward student you don't know. Many of them are caused by you instead. To wit: you're on the spot in one of the magical labs, being called on to demonstrate a technique more advanced than others you've mastered so far. Failure is expected, and the wards should prevent any injury to others from a miscast spell. But will the sparks of your magic just sputter out and die? Or will you inadvertently mispronounce, misform, misshape, or miscalculate in a way that brings chaos to you and your lab partner?

(You could also manage to succeed in casting the spell, but that isn't very fun.)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From the next station over, Rapunzel smiles sympathetically in the girl's direction. "Well, I think it looks nice on you," she offers. It's a genuine statement, but Rapunzel also figures that the glitter isn't really the problem here. She leans her elbows on the desk, chin in her hands.

"You tried! That's a big step. I can't get that one to work yet, either."

"It's gonna make me sneeze," Rachel complains, and then sniffs experimentally. Since no actual sneezes seem to be coming, she flops down in the chair.

"This is like, way above what we've learned so far. It's like the want us to screw up."

"It is strange," Rapunzel admits with a frown. "But I don't think they want us to badly - they're our teachers. They want us to learn, right?"

She's honestly never had teachers in her home life until very recently, of course, between when she's from and the situations of her early life.

Rachel gives a derisive snort. "If they're good teachers, sure. If not, then..." She shrugs as she trails off. Her cynicism can be forgiven, she's mostly a product of the American Public School System.

She tries to brush the glitter off again, again to no avail. "I suppose it could be worse. And it is still magic, and magic's cool, right?"

"Hopefully they wouldn't be hired if they were bad teachers, right?" Rapunzel asks. Perhaps her naivety can be forgiven just as easily, she's mostly the product of a tower in the middle of nowhere.

She seems less perky when Rachel asks about magic, though. "...Well, it definitely can be," she says carefully.

Rachel shrugs. "It's supposed to work that way, but it doesn't always. Because it's all about test scores, not if those of us in the classes actually learn crap." She waves a dismissive hand, because in the end, it's not really something she worries that much about any more. She was so close to graduation at home anyway.

She's not blind to the other girl's tone, and so cocks her head to the side. "You don't think so?"

Rapunzel nods, taking that in, because - while it sounds unfortunate - Rachel seems to know what she's talking about there. "Why do the test scores matter to the teachers, though?" she asked.

At Rachel's question, Rapunzel rubs her hand up and down the opposite arm. "Oh, no, I mean... I wouldn't be here if it weren't for magic," she confesses. "But it has to be used for the right reasons, I think. And some people can be tempted to use it selfishly."

"It's a money thing I think," Rachel says. "And prestige. Even though colleges and stuff never care about those things. It's all stupid."

Understanding dawns in her eyes at Rapunzel's comment about selfishness. "Oh yea, of course. It's just we don't have magic where I'm from. But there are people who have powers, and you're right. Some people use them selfishly, or to hurt others. But they're supervillains. I don't think anyone here is a supervillain."

Rapunzel doesn't really follow that, but she accepts it as something she'll learn about in time, being that she's actually at a school now. Besides, talking about these powers promises to be far more interesting - Rapunzel's eyes light up with curiosity.

"Do you have powers?" she asks, dropping her voice to a whisper to do so.

Rachel smiles. This is a far more fun topic than education. "I did, there. I could summon and control bees and wasps. But I can't seem to do so here. They say that's magic I have to learn." She makes a sour expression, but then flashes a smile. "But I do still have these" she flexes her wrists and a thin bone spike extends from each forearm. "Back home I called myself The Stinger to do my hero-ing"

"Oh, I love bees!" Rapunzel gushes, grinning. "And wasps are cool, too! I hope you can learn that magic, here - I'd love to see it."

When the bone spikes protrude, Rapunzel's eyes widen even more. She laughs a little, in near-disbelief. "That's amazing!"

"Eh, wasps are assholes," she says, with a grin that took any real insult out of her words. She retracts her bone spurs and shrugs, feeling slightly self-conscious.

"So there was magic where you were from?" That seems more interesting to her.

"Oh, yes," Rapunzel responds, picking up on the shift in Rachel's focus and following the conversation accordingly. "Not like the magic here, though. It was very rare and it wasn't something you controlled with a wand or a potion."

She pauses. This part is still hard to say, even though she knows, now, that it doesn't have to be a secret. "I have magic... Or, well, I had it."

Rachel's expression goes serious as she picks up on Rapunzel's hesitation. She understands being reluctant to talk about power related things. The only reason she is here was because there didn't seem to be anyone else from her world.

"What... happened?" she asks, carefully, in case it's a sensitive subject

Test Drive #5 Is Alive

Labwork

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