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WHO: Vriska & You!
TONE: Light and airy. Think Three Musketeers Bar.
RATING: PG-PG-13
WHEN: Friday, May 25th after classes.
WHERE: Outside in the gardens.
WHAT: Vriska is practicing spells.
STYLE: Prose or action, I'll roll with whichever.

If there was one major roadblock Vriska was having at school right now, it was pronouncing spells and incantations correctly. It drove her up the proverbial wall when a spell she knew she could cast wouldn't work because of her vocal handicap. It made her want to feed her books to the lake creatures out of spite.

Yet here she was, out in the gardens after class and standing before what looked to be like a small pile of what could have been a small bouquet of flowers (presumably clipped from the flower bushes around her) burning. Vriska glowered down at it like it had insulted her mother, her wand in hand. The spot on the stone where the fire was taking place seemed a little blacker than normal. A logical conclusion would be this was not the first fire Vriska had set there today.

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When he actually made it outside, this was one of Tavros's favorite place to hang out. Mainly, he just hoped he might see a fairy flitting around the flowers. But mostly there were just bees and other insects. Never a fairy. But he could still be hopeful! He just didn't really get out there often enough to check regularly. Getting around inside of the castle was hard enough, but navigating the grounds could be even worse.

Fortunately- or maybe unfortunately, he'd decided to come out there that day.

Only to see smoke and fire. He'd picked up the pace and made it to the gardens faster than it could be thought possible for a boy in a wheelchair, and when he got there he was out of breath. When he saw Vriska and when she was doing, his eyes widened. "What are you, uh, doing? There could be, fairies hiding in those!"

Her glaring was cut off when Tavros exclaimed at her. She looks over at him and moves to stomp out the remaining flames with her shoe, maybe with a little more force than needed.

"No fairies here. Just stupid flowers that do not float."

Tavros lets out a relieved sigh. If there were no fairies hiding in the flowers, it was okay, right? It was a shame about the flowers though. "You were trying to, uh, make them float?" he asks after a few seconds, "How come?"

While he speaks she is scraping off the ash from the sole of her shoe with the stone. "I must practice spells." She stops and waves a little to her mouth. "I am not good at... speaking." Her accent dealt a heavy blow to her spell chanting and the consequences were obvious as the burning flowers on the ground.

He raises an eyebrow at her statement. "What is it that you mean, uh, when you say you aren't good at speaking?" he asks, "Because... Words seem to be, coming out just fine. I don't think anything is, um, broken... or anything."

Of all the things John had expected to see during his trip to the outside (aka, find a plant he was sure he had seen in the fields once, and that he was running out of in his potion ingredients inventory), a fire wasn't one of them.

And yet there it was, burning away a few flowers, with Vriska standing in front of them, wand in hand.

Naturally, he approached her. "Hey! Why all the fire?"

She was watching it burn, not yet ready to stomp it out as John called out to her. Vriska looks over at him, lips pulled into a frown. "Spell went wrong." More like she pronounced it wrong. Due to her thick accent a lot of spells she should have mastered by now (and have in theory) were victimized by her poor English.

"Why do you mind?"

"I was just curious," he replied, approaching Vriska and the flowers, looking at the burning pile with curiosity. Spell gone wrong, huh? That made him curious about something else.

"What were you trying to do?"

"I try to make it float." It wasn't a spell she couldn't perform, but she still felt the need to try and perfect it. She moves over to put out the fire and look for more poor flowers to pluck.

"Why do you come out here?"

"Oh..." Well... He couldn't say he had ever heard of wingardium leviosa doing that. He was about to ask what had gone wrong when Vriska made him question.

"Hm? Oh, I was looking for a plant I'm running out of," he said, picking through his pocket to look for the page he'd ripped from his text book. "A moly." He held the page up so Vriska could see the illustration of the black stemmed blue flower.

Off the topic of her failure of a spell she comes closer to take a better look at the picture in his book. Hands behind her back her expression turned curious. One of her doomed flowers looked a little like that one...

"What does it do?"

He points at the small writing under the picture, moving his finger along as he reads. "They can help you counter effects of Dark Enchantments if you eat them. But I'm looking for one because they're also a potions ingredient. Like for the Wiggenweld potion."

Peter spent most of his time outside when he wasn't in classes, wandering around and enjoying the fresh air.

Except it wasn't so fresh so he detoured. "Practicing? Anything I might be able to help with?"

The fire was a bit disconcerting, but he'd seen worse issues with new spells.

She was already moving to stomp out the flames and try again with a new batch of flowers when she is approached by the professor. Vriska looks over to him and shrugs, lips still pulled into a frown.

"Is nothing you can help with, I think." The problem was her accented speech as it made it difficult to pronounce her spells right. It had been a problem since first year.

"Maybe not the spell you're practicing but I do know some charms to help with the fire." If he noticed the accent and realized it was the problem, Peter didn't bring it up, but he was more than happy to show her some fire-proofing charms to help reduce the damage of failed spells.

With the fire out now she was already plucking a few new flowers for her next experiment in phonetics. She looked over at him. "That is... useful. Lot of my spells like to turn to flames, unfortunately."

"Then here!" He demonstrates the fire-proofing charm carefully, trying to make it easy to see the wand-movements and hear the words. "I've found it useful when practicing spells I don't have a knack for."

You know who likes fire? This guy. He's going to watch for a moment before stalking over curiously, looking over her shoulder while adjusting the strap of the bass slung over his shoulder.

"Nice."

She jolts away from him when he speaks over her shoulder, eyes wide and wild with brimming annoyance already sparked by her failure of a spell.

"Go away!"

[He jumps as well when she yells but he's not on fire so he must be okay.]

Why?

[Not on fire yet.]

You annoy me.

Shinra is crouching by a small flowering shrub when he catches a glimpse of what seems to be a small fire out of the corner of his eye. He turns, gleefully noting that it was -in fact- a fire before quickly pulling himself to his feet and making his way over to stand next to Vriska. He peers at the blackened spot on the stone before turning to offer Vriska a smile.

"Did something spontaneously combust? I've done that a few times, but my fires are usually during potions. What were you trying to do?"

Steve enjoyed spending time in the gardens. It had the best light right after class, and Steve could spend hours drawing in the gardens. He was there now, sitting cross-legged and with his sketchbook in his lap. He had noticed the smell of burning for a little while now, but he had only just decided to go investigate.

He stands up, stretching and heading towards the spell. He blinks curiously at Vriska, stepping close to her.

"Are things okay, miss?"

She was already stepping out the ashes with a little more vigor than necessary, a few new flowers in her grip when Steve questions her. Vriska looks over at him and purses her lips.

"Yes, it is... okay. Just accident. Nothing more."

Steve glanced at the pile of ashes, then up to the flowers in her hand. It didn't take a lot for him to figure out the fires were on accident. "Trying out a new spell, miss?"

"Vriska. Not miss." She looked away from him to start picking a few more flowers. "Not new. Only practice, you see." She picked a few roses, ignoring the thorns in favor of breaking the stems.

"Is it your business?"

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