Spell 4 - [Action] Willow Rosenberg

[goddessofscooby]

[Willow is sitting in the main living room, candles alight around her at various points around the room, a makeshift cauldron on the table in front of her, and several powders herbs and mysterious liquids are displayed next to the cauldron. With her legs folded and her eyes closed she begins her spell.]

Spirits of cleansing, I call to thee.

[She

Comments

[lt_linguist]

[And of course, one xenolinguist chooses that time to wander into the room. And it reeks.]

Oh my god, what is that?

[goddessofscooby]

Uhura! I'm sorry!

[Such guilt. Lots and lots of guilt.]

This... uhh... was a spell going wrong.

[lt_linguist]

[Uhura is going to utter a strange curse word that roughly translates to "the fecal matter of a Cardassian boar".]

Too many rats' tails or something? [An attempt at a joke.]

[goddessofscooby]

I think that'd make it smell better.

[She contemplates using a spell to push the air out of the window. But decides against it. Her track record of fixing magic with magic isn't exactly positive.]

[slaying]

[Buffy has slept in late. Again. Blame the busy night getting humiliated by a snarky vamp. No, she doesn't want to talk about it. And she's wearing her extra-cover-y sweater. That's to hide the bruises.]

Willow? [She asks, expectantly. While waving a hand in front of her face to clear away some of those noxious fumes.]

[goddessofscooby]

Healing ointment. It went over to the dark side!

[She fans the air again.]

I think I got the latin wrong, but it's supposed to be a really powerful disinfectant for magical poisons and stuff. I thought it'd be useful.

[slaying]

There is nothing disinfecty about that smell. Jeez, what are the components? Burnt hair and rotting kelp?

[goddessofscooby]

It's like the potential tracking spell went worse.

Can you get the door?

[hippocraticly]

[ This is a good example of why McCoy hates magic. It's lucky for him that he hadn't got round to nailing all the windows shut as he stumbles out of his room bleary-eyed and very confused. First a potato exploded in the microwave, now his living room is full of smog? ]

... The hell?

[goddessofscooby]

Sorry Dr McCoy!

[She's still fanning at the air. In vain.]

I was trying to create a magical wound cleanser. Incase people start magically poisoning each other. Sorry.

[hippocraticly]

... A magical wound cleanser.

[ He repeats in disbelief as the tendrils of smoke loft around the living room in response to her desperate fanning. ]

[goddessofscooby]

Well, if there are poisons you can't cure with medicine, It'd be all useful and stuff.

[Willow looks so apologetic it's almost dripping off her face.]