Closed Pride Solo

Hex: #465c67 | English | Russian | Swedish | September, 2023

Nichlas shrugged off any lingering frustrations as he schooled his features into the familiar blankness, a frosty eyed coldness that was like a welcome embrace after all this anger. Only the throb of the forming bruises along his jaw were the constant reminder of how close Slava had gotten to a victory, pushing him towards a loss of control and the almost curse he wished he had been able to sent at the other boy in that moment, if only that hadn't mean a clear loss of control for him and with that, a victory he wasn't willing to give the other boy. It would have been an undeserving end to their dance, as if stopping before this song they were dancing to was even finished and who was he if he had done that?

Reminded of the pain, Nichlas flexed his jaw and was immediately rewarded by the thrum of pain that responded as well as the stinging of his split lip. It had been quite a while since he had bled, unwelcome memories of a broom race catching up to him. The strike of thorns biting into his skin like merciless claws as he flew through the thickets. An aftermath of pride had followed then too. Now however, he was in his domain. The early evening announced a nearing dinner time and Nichlas could afford to miss one meal. He had set his mind on other things, things that required his immediate attention. Such as his bruised ego... jaw and split lip. So rather than heading to the dining hall like most would about now, he instead headed to an empty potions classroom. He hated in potion rooms away from home, having set out everything at home just to suit his needs. His order, his cleaned surfaces. However this would have to do.

He walked across the shelves jars, containers and ingredients with a quiet hum as he found the ingredients with ease, knowing their exact spots and handling them with utter care as he gathered what he would need. It was then that he placed them on the work surface before going to collect one of the cauldrons. Choosing one he then carefully inspected and wiped clean to ensure doubly that there was no residue of any former potion stuck somewhere.This was peace or perhaps as close to it as Nichlas would get to feeling at peace nowadays, whenever he was forced to share a dorm and with that his sense of order and privacy. With a flick and a steady voice he began to place several charms and spells on the door to the Potions room, effectively locking himself in and others out as to not be disturbed. With a weird grace he moved his wand as he spoke "Colloportus, Repugnat Reseratum, Monitus," the incantations almost like a melody as they took the desired effect. Three spells, all for one purpose. A locking charm, an Anti-Alohomora charm and lastly and just to be save the Intruder spell to alarm him in case his other protections failed. With that settled he turned his attention back to the cauldron, placing his wand gently next to it as he knew full well he would need it for the brewing process.

There was a sense of calm that overtook him, that was so out of place for him but increased tenfold by the added security of being alone and not to be messed with. His gaze drifted over the ingredients he had carefully laid out, taking them in as he needed and got ready for the careful preperation process. Unlike other potioneers who liked to work on the ingredients while brewing, Nichlas liked to have his focus free and found a sense of readiness in preparing the ingredients beforehand, so that he simply had to add him. What were he to do, after all, if someone were to interrupt him during the brewing process against all odd, leaving him unable to prepare the ingredients in time and ruining a whole batch of what could have been a beautiful potion?

So Nichlas took a good look at the ingredients he had laid out and pulled on a pair of think dragon hide gloves in black with a silver-blue trim that he had received for his birthday at one point and that were of marvelous quality, as he went to double check the ingredients. Three murtlap tentacles he had taken from a preservation jar, a jar of honey, Bubotuber pus which he would need two measures of, a container filed with various seashells of which he would take 6, and of course a container with Flobberworm mucus, the thickening agent, of which he would also need two measures of. This was one of the simpler potions, much to his dismay, which also meant he would have little reason to do much preparing. He had some small petri dishes and vials to measure out the ingredients beforehand. However before doing so, would put the cauldron on a medium flame so it could heat up without him having to worry about it. As soon as he set the flame, he took out a mechanical stop watch from his pockets and started the timer. He checked the murtlap tentacles for their quality, handling each of them with careful precision as he inspected their preservation quality and the quality in which they were harvested. When he found nothing wrong with them, he wiped off his gloves and moved on. He unstoppered the jar of honey, so all he needed was to tip it into the cauldron once necessary, and measured out two fluid ounzes of Bubotuber pus into a glass vial only to cross reference the weight with a scale. Potions were sensitive and one could never be too sure or perfectionistic. He wiped of his gloved hands on a piece of cloth and then began to pick out six similar sized sea shells with one hand as he reached for mortar and pestle with the other, almost as if attuned to the task he began to carefully crush the seashells into a fine powder before placing the mortar next to the cauldron for later use. Four minutes had passed, he realized and gave a calm glance to the cauldron as it was heating up. He smiled as he used his gloved fingers to brush through the powder of seashells to check its quality, before wiping off his hand on the cloth once more when he found himself satisified with the product. Now to the last ingredient, with plenty of time to spare. The Flobberworm mucus was perhaps the most difficult to measure perfectly due to its slime-like consistency. He had once, when he was much younger, made the mistake of measuring the mucus with a glass vial only to find it had stuck inside and was too difficult to get out in time, which had ruined the potion. So instead he would use a petri dish and measure the mucus inside of it until he had 2 measures of it ready to be used later. He checked the stop watch, relaxing as it showed him that he had two minutes left before the cauldron would be properly heated and took the time to properly wipe his gloves clean with the cloth, just in case any of the ingredients had left a residue on the dragon hide.

For the remaining minute, he stood there, stop watch in hand and eyes watching as the clockhand moved, waiting for it to tip over to the next minute mark. And as soon as it did, his posture straightened and he took the pliers and added the three Murtlap tentacles into the cauldron, followed right by the contents of the honey jar. He carefully grasped the wooden spoon and stirred the forming substance five times, clockwise. As soon as he did he placed aside the wooden spoon onto a clean cloth meant just for the wooden spoon's resting place in-between stirring, before grasping the cauldron by its handles and moving it off the heat, careful not to disturb its contents too much as to not cause any adverse effects by carelessness. After wiping his hands clean with the cloth, in case any of the Murtlap or honey could have stuck to it, he grabbed the Bubotuber pus in the vial and tipped it into the cauldron, gently shaking the vial to ensure that even the last drop found its way into the potion, before placing the empty vial aside to be cleaned later and taking the wooden spoon to stir the mixture three times, counter-clockwise. Once more he repeated the process of taking out the wooden spoon, setting it aside on its own cloth and wiping off his hands on the cloth he had been using for it previously, before heaving the cauldron back onto the flame. He took his wand, handling it with an odd amount of delicacy, as he waved it over the potion in a wave that resembled drawing the letter 'N' with lazy movement on a flat surface, yet with complete purpose as if it would add his own signature to the mixture, before setting aside his wand and lowering the heat of the flame. He took the stop watch and began the timer, he had now an hour of time before he needed to resume.

The Swede sat aside the used materials to be cleaned later and to make space for him to sit down, not until after he had wiped down the surface to get rid of anything he would not want to get on his study materials. Then he sat down and leaned over his parchments and a well-read copy of an Herbology course book. His quill flew over the paper in graceful arches as he began to work on a three page essay on the uses of more commonly available herbs in commonly available Potioneering over those that took time, effort and money to grow. As he occasionally flipped through the pages of his copy the book revealed smaller parchment notes that have been stuck into the paper and helped categorize arguments and call out the lines important. Aside from that there was no dog-ear or highlighted phrases in sight. Then again Nichlas seemed to show a particular awareness of the books contents as if he had read it often enough for there to be a recognition of where he had to open the book to gain access to a particular topic within.

It was when the timer rang gently that he sat down his quill and capped his ink jar, before standing up and bringing his focus back to his potion that was simmering along. He slipped on the gloves once more and pinched the crushed seashell powder before adding it to the cauldron, repeating the movement twice more before gentle brushing the tips of his fingers together to get rid of any leftover powder that had remained stuck to the leathery surface of the gloves. Meanwhile he already grabbed for the pre-measured Flobberworm mucus and added that too. Now all that was left to do was wait and keep attention to the cauldron, as he would occasionally have to stir the mixture clockwise until it turned into a pasty consistency. It took a while, especially since he wished to ensure the mixture turned out silky and smooth, as he would have disliked a grainy texture during application of the paste. He found a lot of potions quality could be read from the way it felt during its use.

Once happy with it, he waved his wand, this time however he would complete his initials with an 'F' rather than using another 'N'. There was intention behind magic and while doing this without using ones mind would have sufficed, Nichlas wished to go the extra mile; give his potions something extra, something superior. And so far this method has not disappointed him.

He turned off the heat and took the potion off the burner, placing it instead on a cooling mat, bringing his focus back onto his essay. And as the potion cooled down, his focus and knowledge of the topic allowed him to finish the essay and with smug satisfaction he placed the last dot at the end of the parchment and began to roll it once the ink had dried. To use up any extra time he then began to just read through the Herbology book and refresh his knowledge on the ingredients and its applications, as well as studying ahead for the next potion class which would likely require knowledge on some of the more advanced plants. It took some hours and the sun beginning to set when the outside of the cauldron was finally cool to touch and the paste had further set. Nichlas began to look for some of the paste jars he had brough (and previously cleaned of residues) before getting started on cleaning everything up once more and setting aside the materials he used.

Now he just had to get back to his dorm, store away the pastes for later use, except for one that he would be needing to open. After all he did have the bruise on his jaw and the split lip. And since neither were a welcome present by the brute, even less so was the glitter, he would be getting rid of that right away.