Professor Scott Padral
Boils and Pus... It's Bubotuber Time
Thu Jan 23, 2014 09:29
204.108.148.11 (XFF: 10.230.216.40)

Walking into the Herbology room, Scott settled into his new desk and awaited his fourth and fifth year students. He played with the hem of his nerdy tee shirt with a bowtruckle saying "My Tree" on it as the first of the students began to stagger in. The young, scatter-brained professor was eager to begin class, as this was one of his favorite lessons to teach -- not to mention one of his first at RMI. He planned it with much thought last night and wondered how he was going to show the students the uses of the plant without going into the potions portion of it, and finally, after a long while, he figured it out. Scott's deep gray eyes seared across the faces of the students who entered, reminding himself of some of their names. It was impossible for him to learn all of them so quickly; he knew only those of students who volunteered in class more than the others, which meant he knew three or four names total. He ran a hand through his dark black, curly hair and watched the clock tick. He decided to be a little lenient today about tardiness, since he was still relatively new and he wanted to make a good impression on the students. As a professor, he told himself he would try and hide his comedic side since he wanted to be taken seriously, but wasn't sure how well that was going to work out.

When students said something stupid, did they honestly expect him to not be sarcastic?

At 1:05, five minutes after class was scheduled to start, Scott flicked his wand and the door closed slowly with a click. He stood up and the students' chatter ended almost immediately.

"Welcome," Scott boomed with a goofy smile on his face. The chalk behind him wrote his name on the board, but with another flick of the wand, it collapsed to the floor, "Please pay attention, as today is an especially fun lesson." He sat on an empty pot that was in the front of the room, between his desk and the students.

Scott had always loved plants. Ever since he could remember, he'd spent his time identifying different plants and tracking where they grew and such. It was his favorite pass-time. Of course, once he went to college he found a way to turn it into a profession; but he'd always think of it as a hobby first. In the “it’s a hobby” spirit, he'd attempted to get used to the Rocky Mountain flora and fauna, so Scott had walked through the forest next to the pitch and saw the lovely plants and things that lived there. The smell of different trees, berries, and flowers wafted through the air as the sound of students playing Quidditch erupted in the background.

When the many stares of his students snapped Scott out of his thoughts, he cleared his throat and turned to the blackboard in the back of the room. He strode back and picked up the chalk from the ground, writing the name of the plant they'd be studying on it. He knew that magic could write for him as he explained, but Scott enjoyed writing on the board himself.

"Now," he said and stepped out of the way. The students read what he'd written as he explained the lesson, "Bubotuber. Who knows what it is?" The blank states of his students answered the question for him. "Hmph. No one."

He strode forward until he was pacing through the aisles of students. "Bubotuber," he explained as young eyes warily followed his steps, "is a black, slug-like plant often confused with actual slugs by animals that eat them but is distinguished by the yellow, pus-filled areas on the limbs for humans and grows upwards, rather than side to side like others of his kind." Scott let his very long sentence sink in as he retreated to the front of the room, where he waved his wand and a squirming mass appeared in the once-empty pot. There was a cloth covering it, though he knew the students could figure out what it contained. He smiled sweetly and turned on his heel to face the class again. One of his students pointed out that he’d called the Bubotuber a “he”, but Scott left it alone with a smile.

He knew what he said.

Scott's weight shifted to his heels so his face leaned forward as he spoke, "Bubotuber pus smells of petrol, so it's quite distinct. Undiluted, it causes nasty boils on the skin. However when diluted properly, it does just the opposite."

He whipped the cover off the tall plant, and a smell of gasoline filled the air. Some students cringed at the ugly sight, and others (typically boys but a few girls as well) leaned in to get a better look.

"Diluted properly, the pus will cure acne, which I understand teenagers have a small issue with sometimes." Scott took a deep breath, but immediately wished he hadn't; the smell of petrol was quite strong since it was right below his nose. He took a step forward and raised his wand. Appearing on each desk was a small, not fully grown Bubotuber plant, which the pus of would hardly affect the students if touched. Many of the children shot backwards as to not touch the plant, and Scott chuckled.

"You didn't honestly believe I was just going to show you a large one without giving you your own? Or show you the pus without teaching you to obtain it?" he asked with a goofy smile. Scott shook his head as he scribbled more instructions on the board. Behind him, he could hear slight pops, and he knew that a few other tools were appearing on the desks of his students: the gloves they had to wear, the long-sleeved aprons they had to keep on at all times, and a few empty bottles with corks. "I can't help dilute it; that's Professor Gallico's job over in Potions. But for him to dilute it, we do have to get the pus out for him." He could hear a few ew's from the children, which made him chuckle again. He went up to his Bubotuber plant and grabbed one of the limbs. Already wearing his safety equipment, Scott held the bottle up to one of the boils and squeezed it. The smell of petrol intensified as the arm of the plant thrashed, but as soon as all the pus was out, he corked the bottle and the plant relaxed.

"Once you put the gloves and aprons on," he explained as he placed the bottle on his desk, "take these instructions and go from there. If you need help, let me know." After finishing his short instructions, since this was rather easy, he sat back and put his feet up on his desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

The board read,

To obtain pus:
Gloves and aprons on; do NOT roll the sleeves
Bottle at the ready
Squeeze the boil of the plant so the pus shoots into the bottles
Cap it immediately afterwards and repeat for all boils


"Enjoy."

OOC: Welcome to Herbology! Please write at least 200 well thought out words to explain your experience here in my class. If you need help, tag Scott. There won't be any boils on hands or arms or ANY skin because Scott will have made sure that everyone wore their gloves and aprons.

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