TAFFC: Que Sera Sera

IC: He sighed, sending her a reply.
"Break anything else?"

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IC(The Highwind Household): "N-No!" she responded into the mic, speech-to-text program translating her panicked vocalisations into a text back to Jolek.

Gingerly pushing the remains of the snapped Kinect out of "sight", she twiddled her thumbs awaiting Jol's response.

IC:

"Uh, sure, let me take a look." The teenager stood, peering over Desde's right shoulder at the piece of paper, one eyebrow raised.

"Well, I'm not quite certain what the position of the moon has to do with actual scientific fact, but the reason why the color changes as it does is because of an excess of base that isn't neutralized by the acid."

"And the reason it turns red rather than another color has to do with the type of indicator used, rather than the virility of the brewer- When the hell was this textbook published? The Dark Ages?"

IC: Kaira.

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IC: "I'm soooooooorrrrrryyyyyyyyyy!" ;_;

IC:

"..."

"That explains a lot." Rebekah said, nodding. "They were all high as a kite and neck deep in the New Age when this was written."

"And much sense was made that day."

IC:

"Well, anyway." Rebekah shrugged slightly, refocusing. "The answer they're looking for in the second one is that the color depends on the virility of the brewer. But if you want to get snarky, you could point out that it actually depends on the chemical indicator."

"And most of the others are mumbo jumbo answers that you could probably guess by watching the first five minutes of Harry Potter's potions class."

IC:

"Thanks, guys," Dor said quietly as they filed back to their half of the booth and the waiter came with his Tarkhun. Eyes never leaving Maglod's, the prettyboy lifted the glass and drained it in two seconds--

"Ohhhhhhhh sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyyit!" Mag muttered.

Dor blinked several times and made an "aaah!" sound as he reached for his throat and began trying to forcefully reopen his airways.

"WHAT THE FUCK." he cried weakly. "SHIT TASTES LIKE LIQUID DEATH METAL, B."

IC:

"Thanks Bekah."

IC:

"Not a problem. I did my own work twenty minutes ago, and it was kinda dull, so I really have nothing better to do."

IC: "Welp." Jol said evenly, pocketing his smartphone. "Looks like I may be down a game or a few."

IC: Corinthia

The acrid fumes from Corinthia's mixture made her eyes water. She wiped them with a forearm, considered breathing through her mouth to evade the stench, realized breathing through her mouth would mean more of the smoke would enter her system, and resigned herself to working in noisome conditions.

She wasn't the greatest at alchemy -- it was a newer class and a culture shock for someone used to the straightforward facts of chemistry -- but at least she currently possessed a passing grade. It helped that the teacher seemed to think explosions were amusing and would award bonus points for the oddest mishaps depending on how much he was giggling.

The image of a middle-aged man giggling like a little girl flashed in Corinthia's vision. She shuddered. Focus.

Now she had to pour another substance into the thingamabob (which looked suspiciously like a cauldron) and stir. She did so. The smoke abruptly turned purple. Was it Corin's imagination, or was the smoke actually sparkling a little, too?

Well, dang. Corinthia switched her iPod to the Beatles to properly capture the mood.

IC:

"Alright, warmups. Three laps of the gym. Go."

The speaker was a bored looking woman in her mid fifties, who looked like she hadn't done much exercise herself for a few years. Her instructions given, she sank back into her seat, opening a magazine.

"Three laps? Isn't that a little low? Considering this gym's size, that works out to less than a quarter mile."

"..." As if in shock, the teacher looked up. Standing before her was a teenage girl who looked about ten times as fit as she was, frowning in confusion. "What are you looking for? A marathon? It's a warmup, for God's sake."

"Well, what are you doing after the warmup?"

"Volleyball."

"... So, you intend to give us a brief stretch for a warmup, and then have us play volleyball? This is a PE class, isn't it? Shouldn't we be doing something active?"

"Who's the teacher here, me or you?"

"It can't be you. You haven't done anything physical for a minimum of three months."

IC: "Mister Brewer. Cloaking potion works."

"80% for not being fun. Experiment a little, boy! Try and see what else you can do with it!"

"If I shoot fireballs out of my eyes will it be a hundred?"

"As long as you don't hit anyone. The room is fireproofed, go wild."

"Cool."

So based.

IC: Megan

"Really, really, not sure if I should ask how exactly you know what all of that tastes like, though I'm doing it anyway," The silver-haired girl said. Megan wasn't really the best when it came to situations such as this, and probably social interaction in general, though she tried to lighten the mood nonetheless.