[center][h2][color=007236]Mathigyle[/color][/h2][/center]

Mathigyle never slept, he merely brewed potions and wandered halls every once in awhile. The darkness didn't keep itself quaint. He would need to advise the boy with the short, black hair to not wander so aimlessly in the middle of the night. And to not peep in such convenient holes that the Head mistress and he had inexplicably missed. There were no cracks now, the lich could feel it. Mathigyle had too many tasks to complete to always be on guard. The next, unwatched night might be more... eventful.

Mathigyle's courses were instructed approaching evening, and in the dead of night for the advanced students. It was when Mathigyle brewed best, and received his greatest inspirations of alchemical genius. Checking three watches and tracing the air with his finger, the lich estimated a rough time table in which he had to brew before class. He was in one of his many, secret laboratories within the school, but it was impossible to tell which. [color=007236]"Soon..."[/color] Mathigyle arched his creaking neck towards Jeffrey. [color=007236]"Soon."[/color]

[@kagethekiller]

And as Mr. Mors wandered into his classroom, there would be a tiny glass container on the corner of his desk. The size of a thimble, it was in the shape of an Erlenmeyer flask. Microscopic bubbles collected at the center of the bright pink liquid and radiated to the outer walls of the glass before popping. The carbonation, though, did not seem to decrease with time. This must be that telepathic potion you asked for. But you were teaching History now! Whether Mr. Mors returned the flask or kept it for his own private use was a decision within his hands.

[@kagethekiller] [@NewMoonGamer] [@Lady Athena] [@WizardGirl]

On your desks were beakers containing an earthy brown liquid that seemed to twist about into a central whirlpool, despite any lack of momentum acting upon it. Another of Mathigyle's experimental concoctions, no doubt about it. Veteran teachers would note that Mathigyle often offered one his many concoctions to the faculty after a night's brewing, but he barely mentioned when it was going to happen. Too many zany projects on his mind to think about that. Whether you trusted the lich's alchemy abilities or not, drinking a strange potion was another matter. Those who might drink the potion would be visited by Mathigyle later to collect data. His brews most often yielded beneficial data, but there are occasionally minor mishaps. If you refused the drink, it was no insult; you merely did not wish to take part in the study and advancement of alchemy. Despite your choice, instinct told you another glass would be poured on your desk soon enough.