potioneer prowess pv a. neptune

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interactions @Carson Miller
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Hogwarts' Library was as huge and beautifully crafted as Astrea remembered it, the deep wood and buttery light spilling in stark contrast to the Four Bloodlines' white stone and gilded gold, whose marble statues and stained glass looked Roman in comparison to the high gothic windows bordering all sides the cramped school trove of information.

She and her tutee agreed to meet at just 5 past one in the afternoon, yet it was nearing 1:02 already and she could not pick out where the unknown male was in the midst of frantically studying students and the haze of dust drifting through the air as they were illuminated by sunlight. A microexpression of a frown pulled the corners of her lips down very slightly as she scanned the room, at last finding a boy of perhaps the same year hunched over a table and mindlessly vandalising it with his quill, walnut brown hair falling in his face as the other picked up a book before resolutely setting it back down with a loosing of limbs. Probably a sigh.

Making her way over to the table, the Slytherin blueblood evened out the puff of her shirt, the finely shorn black velvet luxuriously soft against her cold skin. The school robes held no sense of warmth, especially with the various matches of skirts her wardrobe carried. She had finished up her morning classes for the day and changed into a pair of nice and functional enough clothing less than 20 minutes ago, and Astrea had specifically picked it out for the sake of convenience in regards to the precise artform of potions. Loose sleeves would do nothing well, especially when handling bottles and ingredients. Speaking of bottles, the simple bookbag she carried on her clinked with the sound of empty glasses, a spare potions set just in case 'Carson' would want a demonstration, or perhaps to do something himself.

She stopped at the head of the table precisely as the time struck 1:05, looking over to her temporary protege neutrally.

"Good afternoon. I am assuming you are Carson Miller, correct? Astrea Neptune-Chou, at your service." She nodded her head down in greeting, her words clipped with an aristocratic accent that hinted at somewhere more exotic.

@Astrea Soleil Neptune

"Good afternoon. I am assuming you are Carson Miller, correct? Astrea Neptune-Chou, at your service." Carson picked his head up, his mood instantly lifting. He’d been looking forward to meeting his saving grace.

She was his age, and she spoke, well? Fancy? Carson wasn’t exactly sure what the word was, but whatever. Her vocabulary didn’t really match her appearance, because she looked younger and slightly doll-like. She had pale, clear skin and dark hair and eyes. She looked really put-together, with a perfectly unwrinkled shirt and shiny hair. Again, doll-like.

Being next to Carson, who’d been scribbling on a desk not moments ago, probably made the differences between the two even more dramatic. Astrea looked like she’d never scribbled on a desk in her life, one of the childish, incredibly entertaining joys Carson would have to let her in on. Then again, Astrea had a lot to let Carson in on too, most obviously grades.

“What’s up?” Carson greeted, holding out his fist as an offer of a classic, friendly fist-bump. He wasn’t exactly sure if Astrea would fist-bump him back, but this seemed like a good preface to what Carson and Astrea’s relationship would look like.

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interactions @Carson Miller
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Astrea could see 'Carson' blatantly do a once over upon her figure, the other clearly from a practically different world than she. Perhaps it would have made her disconcerted many many moons ago, but the blueblood had practically been raised bouncing between periods of constant interfering attention and none at all, so the sudden introductory interest was not surprising. She had done it herself, less than a few seconds ago, after all.

“What’s up?” The other held up a raised hand, thrust into a fist positioned horizontally that looked more of a freeze-frame of a frozen punch than anything else. Astrea, unwilling to do such a strange thing, merely glanced down at the gesture blankly before levelling her attention once more to make eye-contact. From the look in Carson's eyes, it seemed akin to a test. Too bad Astrea had no intention of failing, passing, or even participating in said pop-quiz.

"Your grades. As well as potion comprehension, if we get through this well." The blueblood deadpanned, the attempt at a 'joke' sounding much more interested in her head than they came out as. Darn.

Scribbling on tables, forming strange hand motions vs blank-faced pseudo-professionalism. It was apparent by this point- if not already noticed- that the duo had come from very different places in society, for better or worse.

Astrea only sought to better her new companion, and if they somehow managed to befriend each other- well. That would be more collateral damage in a positive way.

@Astrea Soleil Neptune

Astrea seemed like she didn’t realize what Carson was trying to do— give her a fist bump— at all, and just made cold, steady eye contact with him before speaking.

"Your grades. As well as potion comprehension, if we get through this well." Her voice was monotone, and Carson couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. He hoped she was, because he’d much rather get along with her than end up becoming enemies. He put down his fist, accepting the fact that she wouldn’t give him a fistbump.

“Well, if we wanna get technical, my grades are anything but up.” Carson laughed at his own joke. “I’m Carson, by the way, thanks for doing this.”

He was telling the truth, he really was greatful, even if Astrea didn’t seem to know what a fistbump was. They had time to learn, and soon she would be a fist-bump expert, if this went well.

“Hey, do you know what a fist bump is?” Carson asked, a small smirk playing at the edges of his lips. He wasn’t stalling or anything, he just genuinely wanted to get to know her. “That was a completely on-topic question, by the way. I think today should be a day of getting to know eachother, right?”

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The young heir watched silently as the other retracted his balled fist, face set in coolly neutral tranquillity. The expression wasn't very hard to maintain, by this point it could have been her resting face with the frequency she had pulled it out over the years in an attempt to neither offend nor lead on her fellow converser.

“Well, if we wanna get technical, my grades are anything but up.”

At this, the boy laughed slightly to himself, eyes crinkling slightly as teeth flashed. Jokes, it seemed.

“I’m Carson, by the way, thanks for doing this.”

Astrea hummed at the known information, setting down her book bag carefully with a few muffled clinks coming from the bottles inside colliding with the hardwood tables.

"Yes, you sign off your letters. It would be uncouth if I were to not know at least your name, considering that you desired help with potions." The words were bland, it seemed that Astrea's mind hadn't gotten the message that this was not a very good way to continue a conversation. Then again, she hadn't conversed very often in her life, especially in an informal manner.

“Hey, do you know what a fist bump is?”

"Is that what it is?" She questioned, a hint of distant wonder tailing the words just behind the accent that ran on ahead. Fist. Bump. Technically it made sense, the other made a fist and pushed it out as if to shove it at someone, only to let it hang in the air awaiting another ready set of knuckles. But many things 'technically' made sense in the most abstract of senses, apparently including the concept of a 'fist-bump'.

The light that filtered through the high windows glowed in tunnels of gold as it splayed readily over hardwood shelving, causing lacquered rosewood twisting columns to exhibit a white-ish sheen as the sun passed over it. Astrea's gentle observation of the light streaming through windows behind her tutoree was abruptly cut into as the sun flashed into her eyes, orbs of grey lighting up like a mirror of silver as if by fire before they were hidden away by sooty eyelashes and double eyelids.

“That was a completely on-topic question, by the way. I think today should be a day of getting to know each other, right?”

Recovering from the abrupt flash of light in her eyes, the blueblood looked down with confusion at Carson, her hands coming up to tighten the hold her pearl earrings had on her ears. "That is not the point of academic help. Wouldn't it be advisable to stay in a professional relationship in order to avoid distraction?" A slight frown coupled the question, the idea of a friendly relationship built on service and- get this- friendship sounding disastrous to her. After all, there had to be a reason why professional matters at the Gleamgate Castle was handled with carefully civil agreements and silent hidden tension. It was all a game of saving face, gaining power in numbers, and waiting it out to see who would crack first.