Alchemical Mishap

Log Info

• Title: Alchemical Mishap

• Emitter: Ravenstongue

• Characters: Ravenstongue, Telamon

• Place: Ravenstongue and Telamon's house - University District

• Summary: Ravenstongue wakes up from her nap to feed Pothy some snacks (as usual) when Telamon tries his hand at alchemy in the back lot behind their new house and it blows up in his face. Literally. Ravenstongue rushes out to help take care of Telamon, and the two make their way back inside. They discuss their relationship as well as recent events involving demons. Pothy reveals to Ravenstongue that he apparently has an 'inner voice' that only she can hear. Finally, Telamon asks Pothy if he would be willing to be the ringbearer at Telamon and Ravenstongue's eventual wedding. Pothy accepts... and promises not to eat the rings.

-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=- Dramatis Personae =--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-     
Ravenstongue         5'0"     99 Lb      Half-Elf          Female    Short half-elf girl with violet eyes and black hair.                       
Telamon              5'6"     140 Lb     Half-Elf          Male      A platinum-blond half-sil man with dancing dark eyes                       
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The newest residents of the University District are safe inside their home, away from the cold and wet weather that brings snow flurries gently falling onto the windows.

Ravenstongue steps out of her room, dressed in a long pale-blue wool nightgown that trails down to her ankles. She's wearing some fuzzy slippers and long socks, clearly avoiding the cold floors as much as she possibly can. Most shockingly: her hair is not in its usual long braid, instead falling down in gentle waves to her waist.

"Nice nap," she says with a yawn. Pothy flies onto her shoulder from within the room, clearly not about to get left behind. Ravenstongue looks at him with a side-eye and says, "Let me guess, you want me to get you snacks."

"Snacks," Pothy responds. Predictable.

Interestingly, Telamon is not inside. The house has a tiny back lot, for arcane experiments that residents might not want to do inside. And that's where he is -- standing outside, wrapped up in his work clothes, with a heavy leather apron , gloves, and face-mask over it as he stands in front of an alchemy bench.

"Okay," he mutters, glancing at his notes again. "A finger's-width of this..." He picks up the tongs, and lifts one of the vials, starting to pour a measure into a larger, wide bottomed flask.

At first it looks fine. And then it starts to churn and bubble.

"Uh oh."

Ravenstongue wanders over to the kitchen while Pothy does expectant tippy-taps on her shoulder. "Calm yourself, jeez. You're so snack-demanding," she complains as she opens up a wooden vessel containing nuts that she took from the part of the kitchen counter designated for Pothy-snacks. She pours the nuts into a bowl and places it out for Pothy to munch on. Yes, ravens can sit on the kitchen counter--but only if they're polite and if they're familiars.

She takes a glance out of the kitchen window and raises a brow as she spots Telamon in the back lot. "Huh. He looks funny like that," she murmurs to herself. Then she spots the flask's bubbling and churning.

"Is it supposed to do that?" Ravenstongue asks, a hint of concern in her voice as she takes a nut from Pothy's bowl and snaps it between her teeth.

And the answer is no, because Telamon starts to take a step back. Then there is an interesting sound. It's not like an explosion per se. More like a dragon sneezing, or the sound of one of Tel's fireworks detonating -- but cranked up a hundredfold.

The fireball is quite impressive. Multicolored, too, and thankfully it launches straight up into the air. The detonation also launches Telamon off his feet, sending him flying about ten feet back and skidding on the snow, the tongs going off in another random direction.

Looking up at the sky, admiring the snow flurries, Telamon absently pats out the smoking spots on his apron. He cranks his head up, looking past his feet to see that the alchemy bench is now burning merrily in colors of bright purple and pink. A deep, heartfelt sigh, and he gestures with a finger.

A stirring, across the lot, and a bucket of sand starts flying over towards the fire. Well, at least he was prepared for problems, as the unseen servant begins working on putting out the flames.

"Oh gods!" Ravenstongue yells as she sees the fireball go off, violet eyes widening. She runs without thinking to the back door that leads into the lot. She stands still at the doorway, panting a little as she now observes the aftermath--the unseen servant putting out the flames with sand and Telamon with a singed leather apron.

She almost takes a step out into the yard, but she looks down at her wool nightgown and realizes getting anywhere near fire is likely a bad idea. So she settles for pouting. "Tel, are you okay?" she calls out.

Pothy, however, appears to not be afraid of fire, given that he's dressed entirely in plumes. He flies out past Ravenstongue to retrieve the wayward tongs.

Telamon sits up slowly, shaking his head. "Only my pride, 'Lana. Only my pride." He reaches up and pries off the leather mask, tossing it to the side. Pulling off a glove, he runs his hands over his face to make sure there's no blood. "Blasted distillations... my fault, too."

He clambers slowly to his feet, his hair a little askew but no other apparent injuries. Watching the unseen servant dump buckets of sand on what -was- a perfectly good alchemy set, he heaves a sigh. "Well, guess I won't be trying -that- again for a bit." He turns to Raven, and has the grace to look embarrassed. "I, uh... didn't wake you, did I?"

Once the fire's out, Ravenstongue walks immediately to Telamon. She pats down his hair--even as perennially messy as it usually is, she feels a call to at least help him tidy up. "No, I was already up from my nap," she says, peering at his face intently to make sure he's not cut up from exploding glass. "We can get another one of those. We just happen to live near enough alchemy and magic supply shops to start up a potion factory if we really wanted to."

Pothy gives a little merp as he lands on the ground, having acquired the tongs--which are a little bent from what can only be presumed to be a rather rough impact. "At least Pothy saved those," Ravenstongue offers with a little more cheer in her voice.

Fortunately, it appears wearing the mask, gloves, and apron saved Telamon from serious injury. There are several blackened spots on his apron, and a couple places where glass fragments have imbedded themselves into the apron's layers. "I'm just more annoyed than anything. I was trying to mix some alchemical solutions up, but evidently I'm more out of practice than I expected." He glances back to where the unseen servant has finished extinguishing the rubble.

"He did save the tongs. Thank you, Pothy," Telamon leans down to take the tongs back, patting Pothy on the head. "I hate when things go utterly sideways like that. Because it usually means I've made a critical mistake somewhere and I need to go back to the start."

"Maybe you could get some lessons with a local alchemist," Ravenstongue offers. She spots the glass bits in Telamon's apron and she pouts a little. "And a new apron too, maybe. Let me get that off you--it's got glass in it, so you might hurt yourself trying to take it off."

Ravenstongue doesn't even wait for him to respond as she gets to work carefully maneuvering the garment off him, untying and unclasping anything keeping it in place. Pothy, meanwhile, accepts Telamon's praise and pat with a rather happy-sounding merp.

Telamon stands still, letting Raven unfasten the apron. The unseen servant collects the mask and gloves, carrying them over and depositing them beside the door inside. Once the apron's off, he shrugs his shoulders and winces. "Generally it's a good idea to replace protective gear when it's been... tested like that. There's always the chance something's been damaged and you don't know it. The gloves might be salvageable, but I'll probably wind up replacing the apron and mask."

"Just fold the apron up and set it next to the mask and gloves. I'll use a servitor to put it in something -- they can't get cuts, after all." He glances back one more time to make sure the alchemy set is out.

"Good idea," Ravenstongue responds, carefully setting the apron down next to the rest of the protective gear. She smiles a little as she looks back at Telamon. "I don't particularly want to get cut again after the soldier's attack. I mean, I've been cut before, but... It's different when it's in a place you think is safe and it's not."

She banishes the downcast note of her speech by glancing up at Telamon's hair, which has gathered a little bit of snow flurry from his time outside. So has hers, really, as well as her nice wool nightgown, but she's not nearly so concerned about herself. "I'm just surprised you decided to try it even with the tiny bit of snow that's falling," Ravenstongue says, smiling as she reaches up to Telamon's hair to shake the little snowflakes out.

Telamon opens the door inside, and takes her hand, leading her in. "The notes said it worked best in cold temperatures. Seemed like I could get away with using what I had, instead of using cantrips to frost the flasks over and over." Once both Raven and Pothy are inside, he shuts the door.

"This may come as a surprise, but it wasn't you getting hurt physically which set me off. It was... how hurt you were emotionally. I hate it when people I care about cry. All I want to do is try and fix it." He smiles at her, before putting his arms around her for a hug. "They're having all sorts of problems down there, too."

"Well, it must not have been cold enough--or maybe frosting the flasks is a safer alternative no matter the ambient temperature," Ravenstongue comments, happily taking his hand and walking inside the house. Pothy flies in, too--after all, snacks are indoors. He lands back on the kitchen counter and resumes picking at his nut bowl.

The half-elf smiles back at him and returns the hug, putting her head right underneath his chin as she usually does. "I understand," she says. "Adventurers like us get injured physically all the time. I mean, I get angry when I see you get hurt physically--but I'm angry at whatever hurt you. It's the emotional pain that's harder to deal with. Especially for someone like me."

This is where things always get better. Hugging her close. "Exactly. Getting knocked around comes with the territory." He looks down at her with a smile. "It's one of the things I love about you, though. That empathy." Telamon gives her a squeeze, before continuing, "I think the clerics need to make a serious sweep through the lower city as well as the Soldier's Defense, though. You remember how we caught that demon out at the docks? The one that was pretending to be a lucht?"

Ravenstongue peeks up from her nestled spot underneath Telamon's chin, leaning back to look up at him. The warm smile on her face turns to that of curiosity as he mentions the demon-lucht-entity. "Oh, yeah, of course I remember. Pothy was sulking about that the entire time."

"The SNACKS," Pothy wails, right before popping another nut into his beak.

"Drama-raven," Ravenstongue says with a little eye-roll. "Anyway, what about it? Don't tell me it's got a hold on the hospital now or I'll jailbreak Boti from that place."

Telamon furrows his brow. "I'm not sure. They caught -another- one of those... things there. Doing a lucht impersonation. It was... disturbing. It was making... suggestions to every one of us. The Vanguard dragging it around. Me. Skielstregar. And what it had done..." He shudders. "No, I wasn't tempted. Especially not after we saw what it did to some of the people it'd lured into its spell."

"Suggestions--" Ravenstongue frowns a little at his words, looking thoughtful. "Was it flirting? Were the people it lured infected? I wonder if it was the thing responsible for that soldier attacking me."

She does add, with a little smirk, "I am glad you resisted it if it was flirting with you--not that I anticipate you'd ever stray from me on purpose. Grandfather might break his rule and actually eat you if you did."

"And he'd be right to do so," Telamon replies with a grin. "But no, the sword cuts both ways. I did find thinking about you kept my head clear. And yes... the people were definitely infected with diseases. Skiel and I couldn't leave till the clerics had given us a VERY thorough inspection and cleaning."

His expression tightens a little. "I spent some time also contemplating small boxes and deep oceans. I heard about it when I was training, learning to control my abilities. There was a wizard who hunted down a particularly pernicious devil. Instead of destroying it, he bound it into a small box, then dropped it into the deepest ocean. I imagine it's still there. Probably insane from solitude, but..." He shrugs. "Wages of sin."

Ravenstongue smiles sweetly at Telamon. "You thought about me?" she asks in a little awed tone, like how she talks to Pothy on occasion when he's being adorable, as she's clearly taken with Telamon's devotion. "That's honestly... so sweet. Even in the face of demonic influence, you thought of me. Every day, Tel, you prove to me that some stories do take inspiration from real life."

Which is funny, really, considering she's proof that long-lost feyblooded noble ladies exist--if one could consider "Cor'lana Lúpecyll" such a thing. She squeezes him a little. "Well, if thinking of small boxes containing devils helps, too, then that's also a good thing."

Telamon presses a kiss to her brow, and hugs her back to him. "Yes, I do think about you. That's part of being in love; when another's happiness is more important than your own." He lets out a breath; not a sigh, but just an exhalation, releasing stress. "Maybe I read some of the same books you did, too."

He shakes off the meandering thoughts. "However. Keep your eyes open. One demon faking being a lucht is one thing, but two? I'm starting to get nervous that there might be more. The lucht themselves might want to watch out -- this thing had taken another's appearance. If someone's acting strangely..." He makes a 'just so' gesture with one hand.

Ravenstongue happily nuzzles back under Telamon's chin, her hold on him tightening even more--it's a very happy bear-hug, as much as the smaller of the two half-elves can manage. "Maybe you did," she says, and she allows the moment to last for a beat longer before she asks, "Have you ever read one about an ogre princess? Where the nobleman has to kiss her under the light of a full moon before her twenty-fifth birthday or she will stay an ogre forever? I always though the descriptions of love in that book were really cheesy, but, well, I think I get them now."

She looks back up at Telamon and she narrows her eyes. Almost like a glare. "How do I know you aren't a demon?" she asks, her mouth folding into a thin line... which she holds for all of a moment before she busts into a fit of giggles. "Seriously, though, I will keep an eye out."

Telamon snorts. "I doubt a demon would've blown his alchemy set sky high, for starters." He shakes his head. "You're definitely no ogre, my dear. Princess, now, that I could see. Easily. Without any problem." He runs his hand through her hair, looking at it with fascination. "I usually see you with it in a braid," he explains. "You look good with it loose and flowing."

He ponders a moment, before continuing, "Mother sent a letter with the date she'll be here. I've arranged for a table at the TarRaCe, so that's handled. Now if we could just... avoid having a major disaster or problem in the city for a few days, that'd be splendid."

It's remarkably easy for Telamon to make her blush, as always. These particular remarks make her go from just the light haze of romance's flush to a deeper crimson rather effortlessly. "You think so?" she asks. "I've always just put it in a braid, mostly because my mother used to braid it into two of them--but after she was gone, I had to do it myself, so only the one. Too much effort to do two."

She looks mildly nervous at the mention of Telamon's mother. "I agree," she says. "Otherwise she'll insist this place is too dangerous and she'll drag you all the way back to the Mythwood. She sounds like she would absolutely do that, too, based on everything you've told me."

A flash of an idea pops into her mind, and she murmurs, "Maybe a wedding in the Mythwood, though..."

Telamon shakes his head. "She wouldn't drag me back to Mythwood. Father was very firm about me needing to go out on my own. But she -would- fret and I hate it when mother frets... which, I suppose, is true of every son or daughter." He smiles wryly, though his eyes twinkle at Raven's blush. "She's not domineering. Just fierce and strong willed."

He looks thoughtful at the idea of a Mythwood wedding. "Of course, the guest list will probably startle people a bit. Aryia, of course. Randolf. Friends we've made here in Alexandria."

"Grandfather will probably surprise most of all," Ravenstongue says with a snicker. "Honestly, he might insist on officiating the thing himself. Certainly, he keeps joking that we should hurry up, and give him more grandchildren to concern himself with. I keep telling him the wedding's not for a long while yet. This was just the next practical step--living together."

"Cor'lana," Pothy says in Grandfather's voice.

Ravenstongue looks mildly startled until she looks over at Pothy at the kitchen counter and sighs. "I thought that was him for a second--he'd have been so pleased to eavesdrop, I'm sure. It's not possible for him to enter the city right now, anyway..."

She looks thoughtful again. "...Which is why it's odd that those demons are showing up. The wards should have prevented them from being conjured into the city. So... they walked in."

Telamon actually starts a bit, and gives Pothy a dirty look. "Not funny," he says firmly. "It depends on how the wards are set up. And Grandfather strikes me as an incredibly -crafty- sort... the kind of fellow who might have laid some plans just in case."

He looks thoughtful, reaching up to rub his chin. "They may have walked in. Lucht tend to be prone to wandering. A traveling lucht is about as common as... well, dandelions in a field. I hate to even give them credit but it's the perfect disguise. Nobody thinks twice about a lucht wandering about." He scowls. "Damn."

Pothy laughs at both Telamon and Ravenstongue's expense. "Haw-ha-ha-ha-ha." He preens himself as though nothing's wrong at all. Just a little jape.

"Little butthead," Ravenstongue murmurs as she gives Pothy a brief glare. She returns to looking up at Telamon instead. "He does sometimes leave to go attend to 'business elsewhere in the city'," Ravenstongue replies. "I've never asked, because he's much older and wiser than I am, so he doesn't need me looking after him."

She nods as she also considers the explanation. "Yeah. It's startlingly easy to simply just... pick a well-crafted disguise and walk in. After all, I can pass off Grandfather bird as a familiar."

Telamon sighs. "Well, the good news... for what it's worth.. is that these demons have trouble keeping up the facade. The one I encountered was... well, I know lucht like to party but it was a bit over the top for someone who was wearing chains. The demon we faced at the docks started spitting fire even before the elementals got loose."

He grins. "You can tell Grandfather he's a lot better at hiding himself than these things are. There's got to be a way we can turn that to the city's advantage."

"So they're not especially good at impersonating people," Ravenstongue says, making a small 'hmm' after the fact. It's a little thinking noise she does sometimes. "At least, not these particular demons. That one who was flirting with you--if that's the same one who was controlling the soldier, it sounded like they were also, umm, previously acquainted intimately... Are people just that desperate that they'd sleep with an obvious demon?"

"Yes," Pothy replies in Ravenstongue's voice. That seems to erase Ravenstongue's annoyance with Pothy as she snickers.

Telamon shrugs. "Some might not realize it. Others might be charmed -- sorry, but it happens. And yes, there are some sad souls who seek out that sort of thing. When we were in the slums, there were... gods, a number of people who'd been clearly besotted by the little monster. They called it by different names, not even realizing it, and they definitely took umbrage to us hauling it around in chains."

He shudders. "Honestly, the less I know beyond the basics, the better. It was... freakish. And all the way the ... thing happily talked about how -sorry- it was, that it wanted redemption and some company."

Ravenstongue similarly shudders. "It sounds like it was awful to witness," she says. "I'm just sorry you had to see all of that. At least you know I would never try to do that to anyone that I can charm--"

Pothy whistles. It's like a little song, almost showtune-ish in quality. Ravenstongue stops still, almost stiff in her body language, then she looks back at Telamon. "Did you hear what he said?"

She breaks off from Telamon and walks over to Pothy, her brows furrowed deeply. "Is that your voice, Pothy?" So she says, but Pothy clearly was not speaking.

Telamon hugs Raven again, reassuringly. "I know you wouldn't. I also know how twitchy you got when you charmed that mercenary. Like I said, you're pretty damned sensitive about that sort of thing."

When Pothy whistles, though, Tel looks puzzled... glancing from Raven to Pothy and back. "Ah... I didn't hear him -say- anything. Sounded more like whistling."

Pothy whistles again. Ravenstongue seems utterly enraptured, her eyes widening as she listens to him. But she looks absolutely puzzled as Telamon tells her that it just sounds like whistling. "He sounds like a young boy. Kind of a brat. He said that it was about time that I could hear him, and that it didn't take my mother nearly so long to understand him."

"Snacks," Pothy then politely demands. His bowl of nuts is empty, after all. At least that's understandable to Telamon.

Telamon just looks blank. Then he can't help but grin. "Well, he IS a bit of a brat... but I wonder if it just takes time to grow and strengthen the bond with a familiar? At least you two can now talk behind my back." His expression is teasing, as he goes to get out another bag of nuts.

"I admit, I'm almost jealous. The only thing Raspberry tells me is 'hee-haw'. Might as well talk to myself at that rate." Tel pours some more nuts into the bowl, and pets Pothy. "Oh, and with all this discussion of marriage, my feathered friend, don't worry. I think I have just the task for you."

Pothy whistles again in reaction to Telamon's statement that his love had found a way to talk behind his back. Ravenstongue blanches a little. "I can't repeat that! That's rude! He sounds like a little cherubic 5-year-old boy but he says some filthy things," she bemoans.

The raven accepts the new bowl of nuts and croaks happily as Telamon pats him. He's ultra-soft as always, although apparently this cuddly exterior hides a rather disconcerting inner voice. He looks up at Telamon with curiosity and says, "Lay it on me, boss," in a rough dockhand's voice.

Telamon manages to conceal a chuckle. "Well... I was thinking Pothy would make a good ringbearer for the ceremony. I'm certainly not going to leave him out of it." He gives Pothy a stern eye. "But when that day comes, you're to be on your best behavior. 'Lana won't appreciate any tomfoolery, nor will I."

He grins at Raven. "Think he'd be up to it? I'm pretty sure he could at least lift the rings."

Pothy seems almost taken aback. He looks at Ravenstongue and he whistles at her, which makes her giggle a little.

"He said, 'So long as he doesn't break your heart like that dickless bastard broke your mother's heart, sure. Promise not to eat it.' I certainly hope you wouldn't, Pothy!" Ravenstongue says, grinning from ear-to-ear.

She walks over and pats Pothy, too, smiling at Telamon. "I think he can manage just fine."

It seems a family can also be two half-elf sorcerers and a bratty raven familiar. Even if the raven asks for snacks he doesn't need.