Oh, what is this?? She’s seen similar in old pictures of her parents, but she’s never had the opportunity to hold such a relic herself. She hobbles back to Mary Grace to show it off. “Oh my god, look at this. It doesn’t even have a keyboard. If I text all his contacts, will they get it?” The real question is likely, would Mr. Berzelius’ phone plan allow for that kind of excess, but she doesn’t know it.
Mary Grace yanks open a drawer on Mr. Berzelius' desk, rifling through a stack of paperwork he was probably supposed to read instead of drawing on. "You know, you could ask Party Bug the Sequel if he found any sensible shoes lying around," she suggests, though she doesn't actually expect Chanel to follow through. Which is fine.
Though it'll be hilarious when she gets swarmed by bugs and can't run away from them.
"Only one way to find out, ain't it? The fuck you so curious about who the teachers are boning anyhow?"
Her eyebrow arches. “Do I look like someone who wears used party bug shoes.”
Of course this isn’t sustainable, but she’ll find the other eventually. And then she’ll be able to run just fine. In the meantime, she flips open the phone, eager, but she’s thwarted by the ancient technology. She certainly could spend all evening figuring this out, but there’s more to do, even she knows that. Keeping the phone, she goes to snoop near the potion itself, trying to find a recipe. Notes, anything. She can’t remember anything that needs three bubbles, exactly.
“I get bored with just school and activities sometimes, don’t you?” She explains herself shrugging, “This is like independent research. What do teachers do in their spare time, and are they or are they not all vampires?”
Here with a doubtful look at her alchemy teacher who literally hasn’t aged since she was an infant, apparently
"Maybe if he had some nice, comfy Uggs," she teases, eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief.
"Shit, between school, cheer, student council, work and bullying Bear and Cori every day, I ain't got time to sort out who is and isn't a vampire." She reaches into Mr. Berzelius' other pocket and pulls out a wallet, and Mary Grace is willing to bet all the money in this thing there's an unused condom from college still in there.
"Wasn't there something about a werewolf teacher though?" She flips open the wallet and starts to dig through it. "Maybe it's little Alvy himself."
"Sounds like a time management problem, to me." She gives back as good as she gets, an accidentally identical sparkle in her eyes. But she does remember about a werewolf teacher, and that's interesting.
"...There was." She doesn't remember, exactly, where they'd landed on that. For all her big talk she can only concentrate on so many teachers at once. "But it can't be him. Werewolves age faster, all the transformation stress."
She's curious, and begins stirring the remainder of the potion in the cauldron, daring it to blow up in her face. Chanel has learned just enough from Alchemy to not stick the spoon in her mouth. "...I wonder what potion Mr. Crockett takes. He looks scared of it, didn't he? I'd say he's the werewolf, but I don't think this is wolfsbane." It doesn't have that tell-tale blue mist coming off it.
"Hmmm, maybe it's Amortentia," Mary Grace suggests, and she bumps her shoulder against Chanel's when she leans in to smell the potion. Not that she can smell anything significant. The scent... particles... are probably frozen, too.
"Or a sleeping potion and he's being melodramatic." Mary Grace sighs and turns, leaning against the table. She's still got Mr. Berzelius' wallet in her hand and she flips it open and closed idly as she talks. "You're gonna fall and twist your ankle in those things, ya know. There's monsters out here."
"Ooooh. Berzelius has been with Crockett all along, through illegal means, a scandal."
Chanel muses, and takes the opportunity to lean in, too. Just to smell. But there's nothing. Weird. She tucks her hair behind her ear, and busies herself with inspecting the flasks of ingredients on the desk, trying maybe to deduce what went in here, like that'll reveal the secret.
Then she pauses to flex her toes and go on pointe on her left foot, to match (sort of) the heel of the other. She spins to face the other girl, meeting Mary Grace's eyes with abject, if light-hearted, defiance.
"Worried?" She asks, pointed, as if she's not. "I can handle monsters."
"You have to admit," Mary Grace says, running a hand along the rim of the cauldron. "Their chemistry is palpable."
She grins up at Chanel, currently towering over her in her single heel, and bites down on the inside of her lip. "And when one of those vines sneaks up and," Mary Grace slides her foot forward, tilting her toe up just enough to tickle the bottom of Chanel's foot, "tries to snatch ya?"
Chanel agrees, absently, but she's not looking at her teachers much right now. It's fine to take breaks in hell, yes? Yes, probably. She brings her foot down on top of Mary Grace's, a little harder than absolutely necessary. "Crush it." She says, simply. She reaches out and clears the bug from the other girl's hair. It's been annoying her. "Easy."
Mary Grace has been stepped on by enough horses not to flinch when some half-barefoot ballerina stomps down, and she doesn't move her foot.
"Aw, but that was a gift from your brain," Mary Grace teases as Chanel reaches for the bug in her hair, and her hand flits up to hers. Not to stop it, just to touch her wrist, lightly brush a finger along the back of Chanel's arm.
"You know, I think Mr. B tossed something in the sink back there," she offers, as if she's paying much attention to their surroundings at all. At no point does Mary Grace actually look at the sink, or make any moves toward it.
Edited (closes my eyes and presses submit i can't look) 2020-06-06 17:41 (UTC)
This, minus the parts where she's lost a shoe, had to discard her dress, and they're trapped in the memory of a teacher with no real way to get out, is rather how Chanel hoped prom would go. Which she'd never admit, but the little out-of-place smile playing around her lips is likely evidence enough. As is the fact that she finally kicks her absurd single shoe off, so she can stand level to face Mary Grace.
"I'd like to think my brain can give better." She threads her fingers lightly through the other girls', and for a moment, they're close enough to kiss.
But not yet.
"Oh, you're right." Chanel does turn to look at the sink, and steps toward it to inspect. She lets her fingers stay entwined, though.
Edited (this is the 666th comment because she's the devil) 2020-06-06 18:26 (UTC)
Just as Chanel gets to the sink, the scene abruptly starts to move once more. Alva finishes filling bottles and corks each one, lickety split. It's fascinating how fast he works. Monty almost forgets to answer him until he offers one of the bottles out.
"Oh, I couldn't intrude on your night," Monty says finally, awkwardly, reaching to take the potion from Alva's hand.
Alva laughs and pulls the bottle back, quick as a snap and just out of Monty's reach. "Come to this week's poker game, Thursday night, or I'm not going to give you any of these." He flashes an infuriatingly boyish smile "Campus could really use the excitement, huh?"
Monty huffs, scowling. "No. Don't be a bastard."
A bark of laughter from the Potionsmaster. His favorite sort of compliment. "Ah, now that's the Monty Crockett I've heard rumors about. Here for three weeks and I was beginning to wonder if it was all slander."
"It is all slander," Monty insists, exasperated.
Alva extends the offered potion once more. "I'm joking. Just come to poker night once and see how you like it. I promised Cas I could convince you to come and neither one of us wants to hurt his feelings."
Monty's face blanches. "What?"
The scene freezes. In the sink, the silver bottle glows faintly gold. In the back of the room, the door out of the Potions lab stands open, though here instead of looking out into Central Classrooms, it leads back to the Peckenpaugh auditorium.
[MEMORY REPLIES MET! You may continue to scene in this thread or exit at this time. Be sure to grab that linchpin before you go!]
Oh, there's movement. The memory continues, the way it's supposed to, the way the other memories Mary Grace had entered had continued eventually. She'd just been distracted. Not that saving Mr. Crockett was ever going to take priority here.
She follows Chanel toward the sink and leans against it, fingers still twisted in hers. There's something glowing in there, but they don't need to grab it quite yet.
"See? What'd I tell you?" Mary Grace says, her thumb running along Chanel's knuckles. "That's chemistry."
Ah, victory. See? That wasn't so hard at all. Chanel grabs the silver bottle out of the sink. Her record glowed as well, so it makes sense she should take it. She should by all rights be looking in Mr. Berzelius' phone, or at least comment on what a bastard he was, indeed, but. She's a little distracted.
"Well. I've seen better."
She smirks, then, assessing a risk. They have a few minutes.It's fine. Chanel presses Mary Grace up against the sink, giving in and kissing her. Just for a moment. She'll separate and turn away, after that, like it never happened at all. Save more teacher couples, perhaps. But just for now.
Mary Grace inhales sharply, her heart thudding in her chest as Chanel kisses her. Oh, things to do, people to save, blah blah blah, but this is her prom night, and it's not like she's getting paid for any of this.
She slips one arm around Chanel's waist. "You know, we don't know for certain that's the key," she says, quietly but with no shortage of confidence. "No harm in looking around a little more."
Eventually, they'll head to the door. It's there for them, after all, and there's nothing standing in their way.
Chanel and Mary Grace completed the memory "Blackmail"!
Upon emerging from the memory out into the auditorium, the portal snapped shut behind them.
Elsewhere in the auditorium, autumn leaves, a magimagicicada was freed! Montgomery Crockett, however, is still trapped somewhere within the nightmare tree.
Chanel and Mary Grace each earned 5 Tokens for completing the memory!
They earned an additional 1 Token for grabbing the linchpin before leaving.
You can check your token totals in Pouch's shop here, and maybe see if there's anything worth grabbing while you're there!
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peckenpaugh2020-06-01 11:09 am
MEMORY: Blackmail
MEMORY: Blackmail
MEMORY: Blackmail
Though it'll be hilarious when she gets swarmed by bugs and can't run away from them.
"Only one way to find out, ain't it? The fuck you so curious about who the teachers are boning anyhow?"
MEMORY: Blackmail
Of course this isn’t sustainable, but she’ll find the other eventually. And then she’ll be able to run just fine. In the meantime, she flips open the phone, eager, but she’s thwarted by the ancient technology. She certainly could spend all evening figuring this out, but there’s more to do, even she knows that. Keeping the phone, she goes to snoop near the potion itself, trying to find a recipe. Notes, anything. She can’t remember anything that needs three bubbles, exactly.
“I get bored with just school and activities sometimes, don’t you?” She explains herself shrugging, “This is like independent research. What do teachers do in their spare time, and are they or are they not all vampires?”
Here with a doubtful look at her alchemy teacher who literally hasn’t aged since she was an infant, apparently
MEMORY: Blackmail
"Shit, between school, cheer, student council, work and bullying Bear and Cori every day, I ain't got time to sort out who is and isn't a vampire." She reaches into Mr. Berzelius' other pocket and pulls out a wallet, and Mary Grace is willing to bet all the money in this thing there's an unused condom from college still in there.
"Wasn't there something about a werewolf teacher though?" She flips open the wallet and starts to dig through it. "Maybe it's little Alvy himself."
MEMORY: Blackmail
"...There was." She doesn't remember, exactly, where they'd landed on that. For all her big talk she can only concentrate on so many teachers at once. "But it can't be him. Werewolves age faster, all the transformation stress."
She's curious, and begins stirring the remainder of the potion in the cauldron, daring it to blow up in her face. Chanel has learned just enough from Alchemy to not stick the spoon in her mouth. "...I wonder what potion Mr. Crockett takes. He looks scared of it, didn't he? I'd say he's the werewolf, but I don't think this is wolfsbane." It doesn't have that tell-tale blue mist coming off it.
MEMORY: Blackmail
"Or a sleeping potion and he's being melodramatic." Mary Grace sighs and turns, leaning against the table. She's still got Mr. Berzelius' wallet in her hand and she flips it open and closed idly as she talks. "You're gonna fall and twist your ankle in those things, ya know. There's monsters out here."
MEMORY: Blackmail
Chanel muses, and takes the opportunity to lean in, too. Just to smell. But there's nothing. Weird. She tucks her hair behind her ear, and busies herself with inspecting the flasks of ingredients on the desk, trying maybe to deduce what went in here, like that'll reveal the secret.
Then she pauses to flex her toes and go on pointe on her left foot, to match (sort of) the heel of the other. She spins to face the other girl, meeting Mary Grace's eyes with abject, if light-hearted, defiance.
"Worried?" She asks, pointed, as if she's not. "I can handle monsters."
MEMORY: Blackmail
She grins up at Chanel, currently towering over her in her single heel, and bites down on the inside of her lip. "And when one of those vines sneaks up and," Mary Grace slides her foot forward, tilting her toe up just enough to tickle the bottom of Chanel's foot, "tries to snatch ya?"
MEMORY: Blackmail
Chanel agrees, absently, but she's not looking at her teachers much right now. It's fine to take breaks in hell, yes? Yes, probably. She brings her foot down on top of Mary Grace's, a little harder than absolutely necessary. "Crush it." She says, simply. She reaches out and clears the bug from the other girl's hair. It's been annoying her. "Easy."
MEMORY: Blackmail
"Aw, but that was a gift from your brain," Mary Grace teases as Chanel reaches for the bug in her hair, and her hand flits up to hers. Not to stop it, just to touch her wrist, lightly brush a finger along the back of Chanel's arm.
"You know, I think Mr. B tossed something in the sink back there," she offers, as if she's paying much attention to their surroundings at all. At no point does Mary Grace actually look at the sink, or make any moves toward it.
MEMORY: Blackmail
"I'd like to think my brain can give better." She threads her fingers lightly through the other girls', and for a moment, they're close enough to kiss.
But not yet.
"Oh, you're right." Chanel does turn to look at the sink, and steps toward it to inspect. She lets her fingers stay entwined, though.
MEMORY: Blackmail - REPLIES MET!
"Oh, I couldn't intrude on your night," Monty says finally, awkwardly, reaching to take the potion from Alva's hand.
Alva laughs and pulls the bottle back, quick as a snap and just out of Monty's reach. "Come to this week's poker game, Thursday night, or I'm not going to give you any of these." He flashes an infuriatingly boyish smile "Campus could really use the excitement, huh?"
Monty huffs, scowling. "No. Don't be a bastard."
A bark of laughter from the Potionsmaster. His favorite sort of compliment. "Ah, now that's the Monty Crockett I've heard rumors about. Here for three weeks and I was beginning to wonder if it was all slander."
"It is all slander," Monty insists, exasperated.
Alva extends the offered potion once more. "I'm joking. Just come to poker night once and see how you like it. I promised Cas I could convince you to come and neither one of us wants to hurt his feelings."
Monty's face blanches. "What?"
The scene freezes. In the sink, the silver bottle glows faintly gold. In the back of the room, the door out of the Potions lab stands open, though here instead of looking out into Central Classrooms, it leads back to the Peckenpaugh auditorium.
[MEMORY REPLIES MET! You may continue to scene in this thread or exit at this time. Be sure to grab that linchpin before you go!]
MEMORY: Blackmail - REPLIES MET!
She follows Chanel toward the sink and leans against it, fingers still twisted in hers. There's something glowing in there, but they don't need to grab it quite yet.
"See? What'd I tell you?" Mary Grace says, her thumb running along Chanel's knuckles. "That's chemistry."
MEMORY: Blackmail - REPLIES MET!
"Well. I've seen better."
She smirks, then, assessing a risk. They have a few minutes.It's fine. Chanel presses Mary Grace up against the sink, giving in and kissing her. Just for a moment. She'll separate and turn away, after that, like it never happened at all. Save more teacher couples, perhaps. But just for now.
MEMORY: Blackmail - REPLIES MET!
She slips one arm around Chanel's waist. "You know, we don't know for certain that's the key," she says, quietly but with no shortage of confidence. "No harm in looking around a little more."
Eventually, they'll head to the door. It's there for them, after all, and there's nothing standing in their way.
Well, almost nothing.
MEMORY: Blackmail - COMPLETE & TOKENS!
Upon emerging from the memory out into the auditorium, the portal snapped shut behind them.
Elsewhere in the auditorium, autumn leaves, a magimagicicada was freed! Montgomery Crockett, however, is still trapped somewhere within the nightmare tree.
You can check your token totals in Pouch's shop here, and maybe see if there's anything worth grabbing while you're there!