Post by Bianca <3 on Oct 5, 2014 18:19:16 GMT -5
Hi! I wrote a short story today for the BVU issue, and I always feel uncertain about things I write too quickly. I need a fresh pair of eyes. Please let me know if anything seems weird/rushed/typo'd etc.
Thanks!
Thanks!
Teaching and Topiaries
“Jhudora—did you really have to do that?”
“Whaaat?” Jhudora asked, feigning an innocence she certainly did not feel. She and the Faerie Queen were standing in her front garden, staring at a life-sized topiary of a Kau. “In my opinion, he looks better as a bush than he ever did in real life.”
Fyora pressed her fingers to her temples, massaging her headache. “Can you please tell me why you turned Professor Leon into a topiary?”
Jhudora crossed her arms over her chest. The dark faerie’s large leathery wings rumpled behind her back. “I had a good reason.”
“Which was…?”
“He was three minutes late returning a quest item. That sort of laziness can’t be tolerated.”
Fyora continued to smack her face in frustration. “You know we have a problem now, right?”
“How so?” Jhudora asked, examining her nails. She had just re-painted them a noxious shade of green. She was debating whether she should put little skull decals on them in her free time.
Fyora glared at her. “Professor Leon is a professor at Brightvale University! He has a class to teach in the morning, and topiary spells take 24 hours to completely wear off.”
“I don’t understand how that’s a terrible thing,” Jhudora said, plucking an out-of-place leaf off of Professor Leon’s head. “Just give the kids a day off.”
“I’m not allowing that.”
“Then find them a sub. That’s even better—students love substitute teachers. They’re all the more fun to torture.” Jhudora grinned, flicking the leaf to the grass. An overzealous enchanted snapdragon eagerly ate it.
Fyora looked over at Jhudora suddenly, the cogs in her head whirring. After a moment, she smiled, and her eyes shone mischievously.
Jhudora didn’t like that look. She could tell it was bad news. “Why are you looking at me, like this?” the dark faerie demanded.
“Because you’re right, Jhudora.” Queen Fyora smiled sweetly. “I’ll just find them a substitute teacher. And I know the perfect faerie for the job…”
- - -
Jhudora grumbled to herself as she stalked her way down the hallowed halls of Brightvale University. Several students shrunk back as she stormed past them, pressing themselves against the white stone walls to avoid her vast wingspan. One girl even screamed.
“You think I’m happy to be here?” Jhudora muttered to no one in particular. She adjusted her black pencil skirt, cringing as the itchy fabric clung to her pair of tights. You have to wear business casual! Fyora had reminded her pointedly that morning. When Jhudora had refused, the Queen of Faeries have waved her wand and replaced Jhudora’s usual ensemble with one of her own choosing.
And as much as Jhudora had tried to change out of the clothes, they were stuck to her skin, as if adhered with glue.
When Jhudora reached Room 188, she was surprised to see that it was not a small classroom like she had envisioned, but rather a large lecture hall with over 200 seats set up on several tiers. Only about half of those seats were filled, but it was enough for Jhudora to shiver as she felt everyone’s eyes fall on her. Clearly, most of the students were surprised to see her standing in front of their classroom. Hushed whispers rang throughout the hall, and a few students cautiously slipped out of their seats and exited through the back doors.
Jhudora rolled her violet eyes and leaned against the podium. She had no idea how the microphone worked, so she pulled her wand from her sleeve and held it to her mouth. “Class is starting now,” she announced, her voice echoing throughout the lecture. Even the kids in the far back cringed as her voice rocked through them.
“All right,” Jhudora said, slowly walking across the front of the lecture hall. She felt as if she were performing on stage. “If you got into this university, I’m assuming you’re smart enough to know who I am, so let’s cut to the chase. I am your substitute teacher today, and don’t you dare try any of those cute little tricks where you switch names or play a prank on me.” She held her wand out menacingly, and a pigtailed Ruki in the front row flinched. “I turned your professor into a topiary. Don’t think I would hesitate to do the same to any of you.”
There was absolute and utter silence in the lecture hall. Which is exactly what Jhudora wanted.
“Okay.” The dark faerie strummed her nails on the podium. “Today we’re going to focus on potion-making.”
Almost immediately, a hand shot into the air. Jhudora narrowed her eyes as she glared at a brown Moehog sitting in the middle. But instead of lowering his gaze, the boy looked her straight in the eye, his chin set defiantly. Jhudora immediately disliked him.
“Jhudora,” he said after not being called on, “this is not a potions class.” He said the word with clear disdain. “Professor Leon teaches a Brightvalian History class.”
“Well I am going to teach a potions class.”
The Moehog rolled his eyes. “Brightvale University does not teach magic classes. It is a pillar for higher education. It’s not the Faerie Academy.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
Jhudora frowned. “Are there really no magic classes taught here?”
The assembled students shook their heads. The Moehog just smirked.
Jhudora took a few slow steps up the central aisle to where the Moehog was sitting. “Well,” she said, leaning against his seat, “since your magical education is clearly lacking, let me impart you with the most important lesson I can give you about magic.”
She aimed her wand at his face. A blast of green light later, there was a Moehog-shaped topiary sitting in the lecture hall chair, its face twisted in an expression of surprise.
Jhudora smirked, spinning her wand. “Don’t mess with someone who can cast spells.”
The dark faerie walked back down the aisle to the front of the room, happy to see that every in the class was staring at her with wide mouths. Their faces displayed a variety of emotions: shock, horror, amusement… But most importantly, respect.
That’s how it’s done, she thought with a grin. She waved her wand and suddenly there were small cauldrons in front of each student. “Okay,” she said, “now we’ll get to potion-making.”
But again, someone raised their hand. This time it was the skinny Ruki in the front row. “Miss Jhudora?” she asked, staring at the pewter cauldron that had appeared in her lap. “Where did these cauldrons come from? Did you just… conjure them from thin air?”
Jhudora was shocked by the girl’s ignorance. Brightvale Univertsity students were known to be some of the brightest of Neopia’s inhabitants, but clearly none of them knew the basic workings of magic. “You cannot create something from nothing,” Jhudora explained almost wearily. “That goes against the fundamental laws of the universe. When you conjure something from thin air, what you’re doing is borrowing the object from some other place. I typically borrow my supplies from Illusen.” She gestured to the cauldron; the metal on the side was engraved with the earth faerie’s signature leaf design. “I’ll send them back afterwards, don’t worry.”
“So…” The Ruki hesitated, looking up at Jhudora’s face. “Is magic like a combination of physics and chemistry…?”
Jhudora pointed her wand at the girl, and she trailed off into a terrified squeak.
“Why don’t we save our musings for Philosophy 101 and get back to the lesson, hmm?”
The girl nodded, terrified, her mouth shut tight.
Jhudora waved her wand again, summoning several ingredients and small metal contraptions that could produce flames. “The girl is somewhat right,” she finally admitted, staring at the students all shoved so close together with all of their ingredients. “A chemistry lab would probably be better suited to our potions class, but we’ll make do.”
She gestured to the board, and a piece of chalk rose into the air. It wrote in spidery script, listing out the directions on how to brew Jhudora’s potion of choice. “I’ve decided we’re going to work on a Vanishing Potion,” she announced to the class as the chalk squeaked against the board.
“Wh-why?” a pale-faced Aisha asked.
Jhudora smiled, clasping her hands together. “Because you never know when you’re going to want someone to disappear.”
“Does it actually… make them…”
Jhudora rolled her eyes. “Does no one actually know the laws of magic? This is an absolute disgrace. I’m going to have a word with the president of this institution when today is over.” She massaged her face. “No, it does not actually cause them to disappear. That would be very illegal, and I prefer to stay outside of dungeons rather than inside of them. This potion will transport them to a random destination.” She shook her head. “Now, can we actually work on brewing?
Luckily for Jhudora, the rest of the class went more smoothly than she had expected. The students were incredibly smart, and even though they knew little to nothing about the fine art of potion-making, they were a determined bunch who clearly wanted to prove to her that they were, in face, competent. They didn’t have a lot of room to brew, but they did their best, using textbooks as cutting boards to chop up silvery sea grass and squeezing pickled eyeballs into their cauldrons dutifully. When one guy squirted at eyeball at the girl next to him as a joke, Jhudora had to turn him into a topiary, but beyond that, things were working out well. And the dark faerie was excited to have a second topiary to give to the botany professors when she left the university.
Near the end of the class, Jhudora walked around the classroom, surveying the results. Though dutiful, most of the students had messed up at least one of the steps, resulting in concoctions that were not a clear serum that they should have been. “I see a lot of blue solutions,” Jhudora remarked. “I feel like several of you stirred the brew clockwise instead of counterclockwise. That’s a very rookie mistake.” She took one blue potiom and splashed it onto the girl who had brewed it. The girl shrieked for a moment, but then quieted when nothing happened.
“See?” Jhudora said, gesturing at the girl. “She’s not vanishing at all… though this concoction is great for getting rid of pimples, so you might want to save it after all.”
However, the Ruki in the front row had a beautiful concoction that was perfectly clear and the consistency of honey. “This is what we want,” Jhudora said, ladling the girl’s solution into a clear vial and holding it up for the rest of the class to see. The dark faerie was actually somewhat impressed, though she refused to give the girl any credit, let alone learn her name. She passed her the vial back to her, somewhat happy that at least one person had learned something during the class period.
“Well, class ends in five minutes,” Jhudora said, glancing at the clock mounted on the wall, “so I guess you can all—”
“JHUDORA!” came a harsh cry.
Everyone turned towards the door as saw a very odd sight. Standing in the doorway was a Kau, but his skin was an odd conglomerate of smooth fur and jagged-edged leaves varying from lush green to bright yellow. Twigs stuck out his ears and flowers budded from his chin, and he walked stiffly into the room. His legs were still coated in what looked like bark.
“Professor Leon,” Jhudora addressed. “What are you doing here? My topiary spell hasn’t worn off fully. I don’t think you should be moving around so much.”
“How dare you…” the Kau sputtered, spitting out leaves, “turn me… into a plant! And then come here and teach… my class!”
“I’ll take responsibility for turning you into a plant, but the teaching was all Fyora’s fault—”
“Why are there cauldrons?” the Kau shouted, gesturing to the rows of students. “This is a history class!”
“Well, I realized the curriculum here at Brightvale University was a bit lacking and decided to do something about it.” Jhudora crossed her arms over her chest, glaring down at the Kau. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“Yes I do!” the Kau shouted. “Magic should not be taught in a university. It is not a skill practiced by respectable beings!” He glared at her. “As evidenced by the fact you turned me into a house plant.”
“I’ll have you know that you were clearly an outdoor plant. I left you out on the front lawn so you could enjoy the lovely weather we’ve been having in Faerieland as of late.”
Professor Leom humphed and then turned his glare to the class. “Get rid of those cauldrons now!” he shouted, waving his arms; small leaves fluttered to the floor like confetti. The students looked shocked. Some of them shifted uncomfortably in their seats.
Then the Kau’s glare fell on the Ruki in the front row. “Claudia, drop that vial and pull out your history textbook. I am going to teach this class the way it should be taught—”
Suddenly, Claudia thrust the vial of potion at the Kau, spattering him in clear liquid. There was a gasp from the crowd, and the Professor’s jaw dropped. “Claudia! What has come over y—” But before he could finish his sentence, the Kau vanished into thin air. There was no puff of smoke, no blaze of light. One second the Kau was there and the next he was gone.
There was another collective gasp in the classroom. Even Claudia looked stunned. She stared down at the vial in her hand in shock.
But Jhudora simply clapped her hands together. And soon, the whole class joined into, whooping and cheering for the small Ruki.
“Very nice work,” Jhudora said proudly. “See that’s the way to make a Vanishing Potion.”
“Jhudora—did you really have to do that?”
“Whaaat?” Jhudora asked, feigning an innocence she certainly did not feel. She and the Faerie Queen were standing in her front garden, staring at a life-sized topiary of a Kau. “In my opinion, he looks better as a bush than he ever did in real life.”
Fyora pressed her fingers to her temples, massaging her headache. “Can you please tell me why you turned Professor Leon into a topiary?”
Jhudora crossed her arms over her chest. The dark faerie’s large leathery wings rumpled behind her back. “I had a good reason.”
“Which was…?”
“He was three minutes late returning a quest item. That sort of laziness can’t be tolerated.”
Fyora continued to smack her face in frustration. “You know we have a problem now, right?”
“How so?” Jhudora asked, examining her nails. She had just re-painted them a noxious shade of green. She was debating whether she should put little skull decals on them in her free time.
Fyora glared at her. “Professor Leon is a professor at Brightvale University! He has a class to teach in the morning, and topiary spells take 24 hours to completely wear off.”
“I don’t understand how that’s a terrible thing,” Jhudora said, plucking an out-of-place leaf off of Professor Leon’s head. “Just give the kids a day off.”
“I’m not allowing that.”
“Then find them a sub. That’s even better—students love substitute teachers. They’re all the more fun to torture.” Jhudora grinned, flicking the leaf to the grass. An overzealous enchanted snapdragon eagerly ate it.
Fyora looked over at Jhudora suddenly, the cogs in her head whirring. After a moment, she smiled, and her eyes shone mischievously.
Jhudora didn’t like that look. She could tell it was bad news. “Why are you looking at me, like this?” the dark faerie demanded.
“Because you’re right, Jhudora.” Queen Fyora smiled sweetly. “I’ll just find them a substitute teacher. And I know the perfect faerie for the job…”
- - -
Jhudora grumbled to herself as she stalked her way down the hallowed halls of Brightvale University. Several students shrunk back as she stormed past them, pressing themselves against the white stone walls to avoid her vast wingspan. One girl even screamed.
“You think I’m happy to be here?” Jhudora muttered to no one in particular. She adjusted her black pencil skirt, cringing as the itchy fabric clung to her pair of tights. You have to wear business casual! Fyora had reminded her pointedly that morning. When Jhudora had refused, the Queen of Faeries have waved her wand and replaced Jhudora’s usual ensemble with one of her own choosing.
And as much as Jhudora had tried to change out of the clothes, they were stuck to her skin, as if adhered with glue.
When Jhudora reached Room 188, she was surprised to see that it was not a small classroom like she had envisioned, but rather a large lecture hall with over 200 seats set up on several tiers. Only about half of those seats were filled, but it was enough for Jhudora to shiver as she felt everyone’s eyes fall on her. Clearly, most of the students were surprised to see her standing in front of their classroom. Hushed whispers rang throughout the hall, and a few students cautiously slipped out of their seats and exited through the back doors.
Jhudora rolled her violet eyes and leaned against the podium. She had no idea how the microphone worked, so she pulled her wand from her sleeve and held it to her mouth. “Class is starting now,” she announced, her voice echoing throughout the lecture. Even the kids in the far back cringed as her voice rocked through them.
“All right,” Jhudora said, slowly walking across the front of the lecture hall. She felt as if she were performing on stage. “If you got into this university, I’m assuming you’re smart enough to know who I am, so let’s cut to the chase. I am your substitute teacher today, and don’t you dare try any of those cute little tricks where you switch names or play a prank on me.” She held her wand out menacingly, and a pigtailed Ruki in the front row flinched. “I turned your professor into a topiary. Don’t think I would hesitate to do the same to any of you.”
There was absolute and utter silence in the lecture hall. Which is exactly what Jhudora wanted.
“Okay.” The dark faerie strummed her nails on the podium. “Today we’re going to focus on potion-making.”
Almost immediately, a hand shot into the air. Jhudora narrowed her eyes as she glared at a brown Moehog sitting in the middle. But instead of lowering his gaze, the boy looked her straight in the eye, his chin set defiantly. Jhudora immediately disliked him.
“Jhudora,” he said after not being called on, “this is not a potions class.” He said the word with clear disdain. “Professor Leon teaches a Brightvalian History class.”
“Well I am going to teach a potions class.”
The Moehog rolled his eyes. “Brightvale University does not teach magic classes. It is a pillar for higher education. It’s not the Faerie Academy.” He crossed his arms over his chest.
Jhudora frowned. “Are there really no magic classes taught here?”
The assembled students shook their heads. The Moehog just smirked.
Jhudora took a few slow steps up the central aisle to where the Moehog was sitting. “Well,” she said, leaning against his seat, “since your magical education is clearly lacking, let me impart you with the most important lesson I can give you about magic.”
She aimed her wand at his face. A blast of green light later, there was a Moehog-shaped topiary sitting in the lecture hall chair, its face twisted in an expression of surprise.
Jhudora smirked, spinning her wand. “Don’t mess with someone who can cast spells.”
The dark faerie walked back down the aisle to the front of the room, happy to see that every in the class was staring at her with wide mouths. Their faces displayed a variety of emotions: shock, horror, amusement… But most importantly, respect.
That’s how it’s done, she thought with a grin. She waved her wand and suddenly there were small cauldrons in front of each student. “Okay,” she said, “now we’ll get to potion-making.”
But again, someone raised their hand. This time it was the skinny Ruki in the front row. “Miss Jhudora?” she asked, staring at the pewter cauldron that had appeared in her lap. “Where did these cauldrons come from? Did you just… conjure them from thin air?”
Jhudora was shocked by the girl’s ignorance. Brightvale Univertsity students were known to be some of the brightest of Neopia’s inhabitants, but clearly none of them knew the basic workings of magic. “You cannot create something from nothing,” Jhudora explained almost wearily. “That goes against the fundamental laws of the universe. When you conjure something from thin air, what you’re doing is borrowing the object from some other place. I typically borrow my supplies from Illusen.” She gestured to the cauldron; the metal on the side was engraved with the earth faerie’s signature leaf design. “I’ll send them back afterwards, don’t worry.”
“So…” The Ruki hesitated, looking up at Jhudora’s face. “Is magic like a combination of physics and chemistry…?”
Jhudora pointed her wand at the girl, and she trailed off into a terrified squeak.
“Why don’t we save our musings for Philosophy 101 and get back to the lesson, hmm?”
The girl nodded, terrified, her mouth shut tight.
Jhudora waved her wand again, summoning several ingredients and small metal contraptions that could produce flames. “The girl is somewhat right,” she finally admitted, staring at the students all shoved so close together with all of their ingredients. “A chemistry lab would probably be better suited to our potions class, but we’ll make do.”
She gestured to the board, and a piece of chalk rose into the air. It wrote in spidery script, listing out the directions on how to brew Jhudora’s potion of choice. “I’ve decided we’re going to work on a Vanishing Potion,” she announced to the class as the chalk squeaked against the board.
“Wh-why?” a pale-faced Aisha asked.
Jhudora smiled, clasping her hands together. “Because you never know when you’re going to want someone to disappear.”
“Does it actually… make them…”
Jhudora rolled her eyes. “Does no one actually know the laws of magic? This is an absolute disgrace. I’m going to have a word with the president of this institution when today is over.” She massaged her face. “No, it does not actually cause them to disappear. That would be very illegal, and I prefer to stay outside of dungeons rather than inside of them. This potion will transport them to a random destination.” She shook her head. “Now, can we actually work on brewing?
Luckily for Jhudora, the rest of the class went more smoothly than she had expected. The students were incredibly smart, and even though they knew little to nothing about the fine art of potion-making, they were a determined bunch who clearly wanted to prove to her that they were, in face, competent. They didn’t have a lot of room to brew, but they did their best, using textbooks as cutting boards to chop up silvery sea grass and squeezing pickled eyeballs into their cauldrons dutifully. When one guy squirted at eyeball at the girl next to him as a joke, Jhudora had to turn him into a topiary, but beyond that, things were working out well. And the dark faerie was excited to have a second topiary to give to the botany professors when she left the university.
Near the end of the class, Jhudora walked around the classroom, surveying the results. Though dutiful, most of the students had messed up at least one of the steps, resulting in concoctions that were not a clear serum that they should have been. “I see a lot of blue solutions,” Jhudora remarked. “I feel like several of you stirred the brew clockwise instead of counterclockwise. That’s a very rookie mistake.” She took one blue potiom and splashed it onto the girl who had brewed it. The girl shrieked for a moment, but then quieted when nothing happened.
“See?” Jhudora said, gesturing at the girl. “She’s not vanishing at all… though this concoction is great for getting rid of pimples, so you might want to save it after all.”
However, the Ruki in the front row had a beautiful concoction that was perfectly clear and the consistency of honey. “This is what we want,” Jhudora said, ladling the girl’s solution into a clear vial and holding it up for the rest of the class to see. The dark faerie was actually somewhat impressed, though she refused to give the girl any credit, let alone learn her name. She passed her the vial back to her, somewhat happy that at least one person had learned something during the class period.
“Well, class ends in five minutes,” Jhudora said, glancing at the clock mounted on the wall, “so I guess you can all—”
“JHUDORA!” came a harsh cry.
Everyone turned towards the door as saw a very odd sight. Standing in the doorway was a Kau, but his skin was an odd conglomerate of smooth fur and jagged-edged leaves varying from lush green to bright yellow. Twigs stuck out his ears and flowers budded from his chin, and he walked stiffly into the room. His legs were still coated in what looked like bark.
“Professor Leon,” Jhudora addressed. “What are you doing here? My topiary spell hasn’t worn off fully. I don’t think you should be moving around so much.”
“How dare you…” the Kau sputtered, spitting out leaves, “turn me… into a plant! And then come here and teach… my class!”
“I’ll take responsibility for turning you into a plant, but the teaching was all Fyora’s fault—”
“Why are there cauldrons?” the Kau shouted, gesturing to the rows of students. “This is a history class!”
“Well, I realized the curriculum here at Brightvale University was a bit lacking and decided to do something about it.” Jhudora crossed her arms over her chest, glaring down at the Kau. “Do you have a problem with that?”
“Yes I do!” the Kau shouted. “Magic should not be taught in a university. It is not a skill practiced by respectable beings!” He glared at her. “As evidenced by the fact you turned me into a house plant.”
“I’ll have you know that you were clearly an outdoor plant. I left you out on the front lawn so you could enjoy the lovely weather we’ve been having in Faerieland as of late.”
Professor Leom humphed and then turned his glare to the class. “Get rid of those cauldrons now!” he shouted, waving his arms; small leaves fluttered to the floor like confetti. The students looked shocked. Some of them shifted uncomfortably in their seats.
Then the Kau’s glare fell on the Ruki in the front row. “Claudia, drop that vial and pull out your history textbook. I am going to teach this class the way it should be taught—”
Suddenly, Claudia thrust the vial of potion at the Kau, spattering him in clear liquid. There was a gasp from the crowd, and the Professor’s jaw dropped. “Claudia! What has come over y—” But before he could finish his sentence, the Kau vanished into thin air. There was no puff of smoke, no blaze of light. One second the Kau was there and the next he was gone.
There was another collective gasp in the classroom. Even Claudia looked stunned. She stared down at the vial in her hand in shock.
But Jhudora simply clapped her hands together. And soon, the whole class joined into, whooping and cheering for the small Ruki.
“Very nice work,” Jhudora said proudly. “See that’s the way to make a Vanishing Potion.”
Thanks for sharing it with us. I have a few suggestions for minor edits, which you can take or leave just as you like.
