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fiannalover · 3 months

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Public relations

(Content warning: drugging, second person POV)

7 a.m. classes suuuuuuuck.

Trying to ignore your bad life decisions, you focus on just looking around at the people already waiting for class alongside you. No one too fancy, no one who stands up too much.

With one exception.

Fluffy, long black hair, preppy shirt and skirt in low-key, cozy colors. Such a perfect girl next door vibe, it feels unreal.

And then it becomes unreal in a different way, as she holds a beaker to her face, swirls it around a bit, seems unhappy with it, puts it to the side, grabs a mortar and begins to energetically pestle something in it.

“I’m sorry. What are you doing?”

“Chemistry.” She answers, with the specific tone of voice that carries a hidden ‘obviously’. “I really need to get this done, so I’m prepping some things before the teacher stops by. My name is Medeia, by the way. Since you kindly asked.”

Oh. You never talked to her, but you’re pretty sure you saw her running all over the place through the previous year. She joined a couple semesters after you did, most likely, but already had quite the reputation. “You’re that magician girl.”

“Potion maker, not magician. The distinction is meaningless, but it matters to me.” She stresses, like you know a single thing she is talking about.

At that point, the professor arrives, and she openly leaves it clear she’ll apply full focus to that. Eh, so be it.

—----------

“Why bother with doing that? Isn’t magic bullshit worthless?”

“As I so kindly keep telling you, and you so kindly keep ignoring, it is not magic. Just potions.” She reaffirms. “And I find your ignorance very interesting when, amongst others such students, one of your underclassmen is a recently shifted werewolf, just as an immediate example.”

“There is one of those here? Gross. Not like that interests me, so I don’t bother to learn about it.”

The girl’s eyebrow raises inquisitively in response to that. “I’m sorry. What major are you doing again?”

“P.R.”

“Ah. Figures. Don’t worry, I’m sure you'll sell yourself off real quick.” She snarks, before opening her bag, picking a small sachet of some mysterious powder, and letting the substance fall into her water bottle. “You should be careful. Ignorance opens many blind spots. Before long, one of them will make use of your confidence in a way you’ll be lucky to live to regret.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It is a warning.”

“Hum. Perhaps if you try to teach me what I’m mi-”

“I have a girlfriend.” She said, shutting down your move with zero hesitation. Tsk. Boring girl. What was up with that holier than thou attitude.

“Of fucking course you do. Well, the faeric shit you seem to like was trouble for my grandma’s time not today. We’re the ones to rule the world nowadays.” She hums while shaking her bottle, leaving it clear she has no interest in the topic. “What are you even doing, anyway? Love potion? Mercury? Magic acid?”

“Lemonade. Non alcoholic. Just water and lemon juice powder.”

You blink. “That’s it?”

“I'm thirsty. The fact I know a thing or two of alchemy does increase my appreciation of it, though. The mundane strengthens the awe of the fantastical, and that inspires the beauty of the former. One way or another, the more you know, the better you see the dangers in both.” She matter of factly answered, taking a sip with joy. “Hum, I should add an extra pinch of sugar next time. Maybe make it from scratch and figure out how to add honey.”

—-------------

Your mouth is salty.

You try to soothe it with some more beer, but it only makes it worse, somehow. Something is wrong. Something is… weird.

You get up from the bar’s table and wobble your way out. The music and cheering feel like howls to your throbbing head, specters hovering around you while you’re unable to make out any distinguishing qualities. Eventually, you’re out on the street, with the cacophony of the party replaced by the all encompassing madness of the moonlight.

The car… I gotta get to my car.

Each step feels heavier and more unstable, as if your blood had turned into pure lead. You turn a corner, then another, unsure of your directions, until you can determine two things.

This street is deserted.

There is someone here.

Your body gives up on sustaining itself, falling to the ground. You probably should be worried about how you felt no pain at all from the impact, but that comes as a relief right now.

… Hrgh… red.

Looking ever slightly forward, struggling to keep your eyes open as the trail of color goes on, you see someone in front of you. You can't really make any characteristics, but the person's mouth is wide open.

You must be dreaming. No one has teeth that sharp and sparkly white, is all you can think of as it leans towards you.

"Back off!"

A brown object swings towards the mystery person, and you can't quite make sure if it hit or not. You think you see something thrown in its direction, and before long some girl kneels by your side.

"O- ourse- you." Your ears fail you. You're so sleepy… "Drink- ow."

Something is pressed to your lips, reminding you that it still feels like pure salt is coating your tongue. Unable to resist, you open wide and begin drinking.

It's sweet. So delightfully, amazingly sweet. Somehow, all you felt these last couple minutes of pain fade away, shifting into a pleasant dream.

Yes… you can fall asleep, finally… So thick and syrupy… like honey…

—-------

You wake up the next day on your dorm's couch.

Jerks. Might as well have tossed you on your bed.

You react with confusion over your flatmates' tease about your latest fling, and the fact you think your headache isn't as bad as it should be. Your face feels itchy too. Are those scratch marks and bandaids? What the hell went on-

Reaching for your pocket, you feel something in it which most certainly wasn't there before. Taking it out, you see a paper napkin in which, alongside a phone number, was scribed:

Medeia Camille

Potion Maker and student, here for your needs.

You open your bedside table's drawer and throw the paper in, memories of a night that never happened beating from behind a curtain of wood.

#fian writes #fian's OCs #medeia camille

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fiannalover · 11 months

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OC Tag Game

Tagged by @mountainashfae! Sending it ahead to @marquesspm, @tlozypaka-tina and @misecinn

Favorite OC: Medeia Camille, my little overcompetent Potion Maker.

Newest OC: uuuuuuh, I think Viana Asclepias, pokémon game verse therapist, specialist in poison antidotes and the like. Pastoria native from a family used to the Great Marsh mons.

Oldest OC: Medeia again! My oldest girl, she's from my The Sims 3 high school phases. Which is also why she gets crossover privileges dibs.

Meanest OC: I'm too much of a softie normie to properly write non villain mean people /half-j. Gonna go with Faris, my fair youth. The sadism drips from him with ease if he doesn't like you enough.

Also, my b for the fact you're lucky if you so much as saw him being namedropped once before.

Softest OC: Conversely, this is tough competition, but gonna go with Zena Florine... winning a close race with like at least 2 others because she does not physically fight people.

Most aloof/standoffish OC: Tempo Reis. He's still learning how to Not Accidentally Be Rude to people who aren't, like, hiring him, so generally keeps to himself most of the time.

Melieu has been dragged Out of this against his will. it is being painful.

Dumbest (affectionate) OC: They are all dumb and smart in different ways, is what I feel like saying... think I'm gonna go with Ruby, out of you know, The Religious/Paladin-ness.

Smartest OC: Oh, Myldrid. He's a pokémon professor. So much multidisciplinarity.

Horniest OC: shrug

OC you'd be best friends with irl: ... Medeia. Friendly, outspoken, will speak to you in an equal level, no major trauma issues, fun hobbies, writer. She has it all!

#fian rambles #fian's ocs #thanks for the tag!#I got many pokemon ocs...

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