nine times out of ten - Printable Version
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nine times out of ten - Noble Greengrass - March 25, 2025
Winning ten bucks on a scratch-off lotto ticket
The keys you thought disappeared
Every vacant moment you've exhausted all the options
That you thought could fill the hole
Every star you're wishing on just hoping for a little self-control
Tired of feeling selfish
You're tired of feeling restless
You're tired of feeling down
Sometimes he wished he hadn't gone to the Ministry to be turned back to normal. When he was under the influence of the New Year's magic, he'd been happy. An unnatural, pervasive happiness — but happy nonetheless. Now he was normal, and things were normal, and he didn't think he liked normal.
Jemima was going to have a baby, and Noble was scared; Daffodil had a baby, and maybe he'd saved her life, but it wasn't like it mattered; he had not spoken to Miss Hunniford since December. He spent a lot of time in his workshop. Sometimes he worried that Miss Henrietta Cartwright was the only person who understood him, because she was the only person who knew the worst thing Noble had ever done. Sometimes this, all of it, felt like a way for him to make up for the Sanditon hurricane, because he could not come up with another explanation.
He was working on calming potions. They were always popular, and now that it was spring, some mamas were collecting them before the summer started. A knock came at the door. "Come in," Noble called, tone already exasperated. He expected Clem, or maybe one of the other residents — he wasn't expecting anyone.
He missed Grace. He didn't mind when she came to bother him. Well — he'd minded in the past. But now, he missed her enough that he did not think he would mind the intrusion.
Tilda MacFusty Philomena Sprout
RE: nine times out of ten - Tilda MacFusty - March 31, 2025
That…was the last time Tilda ever tried to feed two groups of baby mooncalves without separating them into their own pens. Her vivarium pens still needed to be upgraded though, and she thought that perhaps she’d done it enough times to prevent the absolute stampede that ended up happening. Of course, no one could hardly blame the baby mooncalves. After all it wasn’t as if she’d just fed them hours previously and planned to do it again in the next few hours.
At least, she thought as she made her way down the street to the Greengrass residence, the two sets of parents had control over themselves when it was feeding time. Because the adolescents certainly did not. It was fortuitous that she was going to Noble’s to pick up a potion for one of her patients; she was nursing a massive headache (and probably a bruise on her forehead) from being head butted by two adolescent mooncalves who weren’t quite aware of their own strength yet.
After going through the back gate, Tilda knocked and waited for Noble’s answer. When it came (was it just her or did he sound frustrated?) she poked her head around the door first to give him a weary smile before she stepped all the way through. “Hullo Noble,” She greeted mildly; cautiously, before setting her healer’s bag on the workbench with a sigh, making one of her stray curls flutter out of her face before falling right back to where it had originally been. She brushed it out of the way. “Sorry, I know I don’t have an appointment.”
At least, she thought as she made her way down the street to the Greengrass residence, the two sets of parents had control over themselves when it was feeding time. Because the adolescents certainly did not. It was fortuitous that she was going to Noble’s to pick up a potion for one of her patients; she was nursing a massive headache (and probably a bruise on her forehead) from being head butted by two adolescent mooncalves who weren’t quite aware of their own strength yet.
After going through the back gate, Tilda knocked and waited for Noble’s answer. When it came (was it just her or did he sound frustrated?) she poked her head around the door first to give him a weary smile before she stepped all the way through. “Hullo Noble,” She greeted mildly; cautiously, before setting her healer’s bag on the workbench with a sigh, making one of her stray curls flutter out of her face before falling right back to where it had originally been. She brushed it out of the way. “Sorry, I know I don’t have an appointment.”
RE: nine times out of ten - Noble Greengrass - April 12, 2025
Noble raised his eyebrows at the sight of Tilda MacFusty, who he hadn't expected. He smiled after a beat. Miss MacFusty looked a bit haggard, something about the stray hair and maybe an expression on her face, and she was, even better, not a resident of his house. "MacFusty," he said, by way of greeting. "No, no — it's good to see you."
She probably needed something, if she was here; the nature of potioneering, or maybe of his life, was that people only came in when they needed something. He hopped off his barstool and took a step back from his cauldron, as if to solidify that she had his full attention.
She probably needed something, if she was here; the nature of potioneering, or maybe of his life, was that people only came in when they needed something. He hopped off his barstool and took a step back from his cauldron, as if to solidify that she had his full attention.
RE: nine times out of ten - Tilda MacFusty - April 28, 2025
He looked surprised to see her, but that could have just been the fact that she hadn’t been able to book an appointment before she arrived. Tilda gave a small smile in return, a speck of warmth blooming in her chest at his greeting. “It’s good to see you too,” She sighed, entering fully. They ran in similar professions - she didn’t feel the need to put on a front of false cheerfulness, even when visiting his work place.
“I have to pick up a potion for a client,” She jumped right to the point, her hand coming up to rub the sore spot at her temple. “But I was also wondering if you had a potion to help with headaches...for me.” She laughed sheepishly, her eye fluttering a little as she tried to clear the wobbly vision that had suddenly come over her now that she’d stopped moving.
“I have to pick up a potion for a client,” She jumped right to the point, her hand coming up to rub the sore spot at her temple. “But I was also wondering if you had a potion to help with headaches...for me.” She laughed sheepishly, her eye fluttering a little as she tried to clear the wobbly vision that had suddenly come over her now that she’d stopped moving.
RE: nine times out of ten - Noble Greengrass - May 19, 2025
A potion for a client, that was easy enough — Noble opened the drawer of potions he kept ready for clients to pick up, wondering if he could guess which one of hers. That thought was stopped short by her request for a potion for her — he turned back to her, concern drawing his eyebrows together and lining his forehead.
"Sure," Noble said, because he was a potioneer, so this was sort of what he did. "Do you know what caused it?"
There was something concerning about the way her eyelids were moving, now that he knew to be worried.
"Sure," Noble said, because he was a potioneer, so this was sort of what he did. "Do you know what caused it?"
There was something concerning about the way her eyelids were moving, now that he knew to be worried.
RE: nine times out of ten - Tilda MacFusty - July 4, 2025
Unfortunately, she very much knew what caused it. Tilda kept her head ducked behind her hand as she explained: “I was erm - in one of my vivariums and got in the middle of a den of mooncalves. It was feeding time, and one got too eager and head butted me.” She gave a wince, removing her hand as she now wondered if she was beginning to sport a bruise. There was a spot that seemed more tender than the rest just near the top of her forehead. She let the bench take her weight and leaned back a little. “I’m sure it’s just a momentary dizzy spell.” She reassured.