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Hogwarts RPG Name: Charlie Upstead Gryffindor Sixth Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Aurelio Kaiser Slytherin Fourth Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Alexei Petrov Slytherin Second Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Yves Flamel Slytherin Seventh Year Hogwarts RPG Name: Achilles Zacharias Ravenclaw Fourth Year Diagon Alley Proprietor:
Ezekiel Ransom-Kruus Ollivanders x12 x12
| sort of catching up but apparently mostly /giving/ up Lovely™ | Captain Hurted | Ariana's Bane | Resident Antagonist | Unparalleled Delight "Tentacles. Yes. Those wriggly bits." Abey nodded and smiled because it was nice when people understood his less than proper descriptions of things, rather than looking at him all weird actually.
... Oh... oh no.
As the seminar progressed, and Abey paid actual attention actually, he soon felt a very difficult-to-ignore sinking feeling in his stomach. Not only was the ProfessorHealer saying a lot of words that Abey didn't even recognise, let alone understand, he then proceeded to give them a whole lot of instructions in one go, rather than take them through it step by step, and then wrote the lot on the board for them to refer to, which............. made things a whole lot harder actually.
Abey chewed on his lip and, at first, tried to remember what the Healer had told them, but already he was starting to mix up the earlier stages which made him all the more unsure. Which meant... using the written instructions.
A sense of impending doom filled Abey all the way from the tips of his toes to the ends of his hair. This was bad, this was awful, this was TERRIBLE. This was all going to go wrong.
Like others had done, Abey put on all the protective clothes and stuff that had been laid out for them. Okay. Easy. Fine. All good. Next, he... kept watching everyone else, but most people were a lot faster than him, and Abey couldn't be sure who was doing the first step. He stared up at the board - really stared at it - and then back at the things on his workstation, again thinking back to the verbal instructions again.
So... he needed a wriggly bit - a tentacle. Abey fished one out of the jar after struggling a little with the lid, and sort of just held it in his hand, giving it a good look. Gross. He looked up at the board again; something about squeezing it? Searching through the written instructions, Abey tried to find a word he recognised, but the words were all wobbly and flashy more than usual and weren't staying still or cooperating at all actually and he felt his anxiety levels get higher and higher until his breathing got quicker and his eyes started prickling as the stress of not knowing what to do and not being able to keep up really started to get to him.
Trying to ignore his wibbling bottom lip, Abey bowed his head right down and tried to sort of maybe turn completely invisible. He still had a handful of tentacle too, but... well... all he could really do was try to remember and/or guess what to do with it. Swallowing a hard lump in his throat, Abey tried his best to squeeze the tentacle like he was squeezing a sponge, but he held back from doing it too much, because what if he ruined it? He couldn't remember for the life of him what the Healer Man had said about that - if anything - so all he could do was to be careful. But what if he was being TOO careful? He didn't knoooooooow.
The tentacle juice was squeezed into a vial, but again, Abey couldn't remember how to tell when it was done and what was too much. He stayed where he was, looking a little bit lost for a moment or two, before just... doing away with the stupid thing, throwing it into a bowl like everyone else seemed to have done.
The Healer had already started talking again, so before Abey could even try to remember what to do with the stuff in the vial, he had to take a break and pay attention to the next lot of instructions or he really would be doomed in a minute.
And there WERE a LOT actually. Abey tried to keep up, he tried to listen, but now, being that he was fretting and worrying, the words that were going into his ears now sounded just as strange and wobbly and wrong as when he looked at them written up on the board. All of the information was too much to keep up with and it felt like STAMPEDE of words actually, coming at him in millions of different forms. And oh, how he hated words.
Too much, it was toooooooooo much. AND he looked like an idiot with these goggles on, and nobody liked looking like an idiot when they were upset.
Now sniffling just a little bit, Abey tugged his gloves back off and dropped them onto his desk, then pulled off the stupid goggles so that he was free to rub at his eyes and shed just a few tears because of how utterly hopeless he was at everything. Wibble.
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