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diatuooc2019-05-15 07:30 pm
magicademymods) wrote in diatuooc2019-05-15 07:30 pm
Entry tags:
Test Drive #5 Is Alive
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.)
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What she ended up getting was something familiar to her, at least--fabric, sticky on one side, inundated with wintergreen oil and other painkillers. She'd used them often enough in training for the Olympics, and even though they didn't heal over any actual wounds, they were great for sore muscles. And she'd whistled up more than one!
"These aren't much, but if you ache, this'll help that a bit. They've got a backing to them and they're sticky, you just slap them on." Isabel bent over and used one on a bare calf, to show him how it was done.
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Wait, what? Tidus shook his head and watched her with interest, cheering a little when he saw the bandages take form. He could guess at what those were, at least.
With that, he gently took them and began to wind it around his arm. His wrapping wasn't the greatest, but it was serviceable---he'd clearly had to do this before.
"Thanks. Our team medics used to hate me for all the risks I took, and I don't see that changing any time soon."
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But as he went down the list, Isabel grunted. "Oof, that does sound like a 'worst case scenario' list. Don't they have antidotes or potions for some of that stuff? I'm not sure how you bring someone back from being a zombie, though. Ounce of prevention, there."
She tilted her head at him, then. "I know risk takers, though. You only do it if you've got skills. And sometimes you just have to do anything for the shot, right?" Isabel knew that only too well--she'd gotten yelled at herself for taking a daring move or two in competition.
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Thinking of her was still hard, but he'd be okay. He'd just get through whatever this was and have some fun if he could.
"Yup! When you see an opening, you score. The rest of the blitzball league hated me for that too. But hey...you get it. And you weren't so bad yourself."
Ah, classic deflection.
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"Thanks, I appreciate it! But who's Yuna, that she scolded you?" Assuming was no good, so Isabel just flat out asked, though she could think of a few people who scolded her for taking too many chances, too.
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"She was my summoner, the one I swore to protect. She took the weight of the whole world on her shoulders and was willing to give up everything to make everyone else happy. I tried to show her that she was worth protecting too, and I hope it sunk in."
He smiled distantly. "I never got to dedicate a shot to her, but...I think I will. Helps to know that I'm in good company, right?"
He flashed another dazzling smile.
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Isabel shrugged a bit, again. "So do it here! I bet it'd still mean something. I bet somehow, she'd know."
She chuckled, feeling more than a little glad that she'd been on the end of dazzling smiles before--because boy, his was something! "So you got a name? I'm Isabel."
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After a moment, he reached up to give her a friendly handshake. "It's Tidus. Nice to meet you. Here's hoping we made the team!"