Reece Campbell (Draco)
I don't want to be administrated!
Fri Jan 24, 2014 05:44
83.172.126.221

Originally, herbology had all been a scheme for him. It was a possible route to determining what drugs the faculty used to make students fall so easily for their magic tricks, and so Reece had thrown himself into it, inquisitively poking through each lesson and even coming in for extra work last term in hopes of getting on the professor’s good side. And then, over that extra work and those years of attention, the lanky Scots boy found himself actually liking the class. Yeah, tending plants wasn’t the sort of way he would have chosen to spend his free time, it wasn’t always boring but it didn’t exactly give him a vibe of productivity either, yet somehow the variety of impossible dancing flowers and whatever other bizarre greenery the professors managed to pull out of the dirt was appealing to study. Maybe they were producing drugs and maybe they weren’t, but either way, herbology was predictable in that it was simultaneously weird and normal, weird plants plus normal methods. It didn’t require him to start flapping his magic stick around, and as long as he didn’t have to contribute to that side of things, he could certainly handle attending these classes for a few months.

Recovering from the momentary surprise of a blob of something plant-y landing on his desk, Reece pulled the collar of his hoodie up over his nose to block out some of the smell and leaned forward, warily poking the blob with one gloved finger. The whole thing seemed to shiver at the touch, vibrating back and forth and slowly oozing continuously. It was a blobby black slug-that-was-actually-a-plant and it was oozing goop. Reece was perhaps surprisingly unopposed to their new herbology professor, considering his unsurprising opposition to most of the other adult figures at RMI, but this most recent lesson was causing some doubt in Plantman Scotty’s methods; the man seemed way too happy about the goopy slug than was necessary. Interest would’ve been understandable, acceptable, but that big smile he had treated them with from the front of the room? The boy shook his head and settled back in his chair.

Why did the tuber ooze? He could see the actual boils now, which was where the remnant pus seemed to be oozing from, however, pus obviously couldn’t come out of nothing, which meant it was being generated from something internal. Were the boils creating pus or was it something else inside… or was the tuber even creating its own pus to begin with? Plantman Scotty had pointed out that touching the pus created boils, so then maybe the boils had come from the plant contacting pus from an external source. The best way to narrow down the possibilities, Reece decided, would be from the inside-out. He could smuggle some of it out of the classroom and take it up to the mock chemistry lab set up in his dorm for proper analysis - but in order to do that, he needed to get the pus out, which was a minor problem because he didn’t even want to get close to the smelly goopy thing right now.

Pulling his knapsack up onto his lap, he ducked his head over it and began rummaging inside with his free hand, fingers grazing past book spines and pens and a couple apples nicked from the dining hall at lunch. As more items in his sack were identified not to be the item he was looking for, the black-haired boy’s scowl deepened. Where was his gas mask when he needed it? It probably wouldn’t help much with the smell, but at the very least it’d reassure him that he wasn’t ingesting any weird chemicals along with the smell, which was sort of the whole reason why he had bought the mask in the first place and thus made it all the more inconvenient that he had left it in his dorm. No one else in the room had a gas mask, of course, but no one else understood the risks as well as he did. And, hey, if the delay in finding his mask took long enough, maybe he could just nick someone else’s goop on his way out at the end of the class? ‘Aye, perfect.’ Then he wouldn’t have to face any risk at all.

In his mock preoccupation stalling searching through his knapsack, he paid little attention to the person who approached his desk, only reacting once they’d spoken up. “Not a chance, I don’t want that rubbish in my mouth,” he pointed out irritably, lilting accent muffled by the collar of his hoodie that was still pulled as a screen over it, before actually looking at the person in front of him. “Er, sorry, ma’am. That was… rude...” Reece trailed off, grey eyes surveying the woman with some level of criticism. The number of times he’d been in a direct conversation with the faculty was few and limited mostly to detentions, so he felt a bit taken aback to have been addressed by none other than The Enemy’s replacement. Well, technically, The Enemy himself had been a replacement of The Original Enemy, which made this woman The Third Enemy, and that was starting to get just complicated enough to make him suspicious. Surely a secret agency would be better organized than that? In the four years he’d been here, they’d already gone through three different leaders, and, hmph, it was getting ridiculous. “Won’t happen again,” he finished off with a nod, accepting the bottle of goop and trying to make himself look busy observing it in hope that the woman would leave him alone.


  • Hands-on administratingHeadmistress Elizabeth Guinevere Warren, Thu Jan 23 18:12
    Elizabeth Guinevere understood, as anyone with common sense should, that the respect held for the certain leadership positions did not, necessarily, transfer with those positions. And as more... more
    • I don't want to be administrated! — Reece Campbell (Draco), Fri Jan 24 05:44
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