(probably won't be) like the last time || torr

Briony had only lasted about an hour before she had to go outside, catch her breath, and indulge in a cigarette, bringing the honey-laced tobacco up to her lips before she exhaled softly. A large part of her expected that he would be this way—not particularly helpful, full of witty remarks and annoyance as if she were distracting him from something far more important. Whether it had simply been the way he knew how to teach or his unwillingness to do this all together, Briony was not certain, but what she did know was that she couldn’t let it get to her. If she could look past his lackluster attitude and unwillingness to answer her questions like she needed him to, there was much to be learned.

When she had returned home from their last meeting, first in a very long time, Briony had considered for some time whether this was worth going through, to begin with. Sickles aside, the potion seemed like something she could figure out through trial and error. But who would she test it on and for what purpose? How would she gain access to the information if the potion itself was forbidden? When Briony had first broken into the business of illegal dealings, she had not understood the depth of the problems she would be getting into. Once a contract had been made, she could not break it without the idea that reciprocation was just around the corner. If she messed up, her safety was in danger. If she attempted to cheat, well it would certainly come back to her two-fold.

Moving her head from side to side to relax her shoulders a little, she stubbed out the cigarette into the cobblestone below her feet, she returned inside, attempting to keep her facial expression calm as she faced him again. She forced a small smile, reminding herself that being polite might throw him off and if she could avoid being the fuel to the fire that made his attitude burn, there was a higher chance that things would work out in her favor. “Shall we continue, then?” she asked, tucking strands of her medium-long hair behind her ear as she moved over to the table where she had left her notebook and quill.

“And would you please answer my question about the Ashwinder eggs? This would go by much easier if you cooperated a little, you know,” she added quietly, turning her attention back to her notebook, picking up her quill and ready to write if he would be inclined to answer her question. "How long with the potion take to brew anyway?"

@Torrence Regan

"Back for more? You must be a real sadist then, aren't you, Kent," he remarked with a smirk as she made her way back to the work bench. Something they had in common. He came around to where she was standing, shooing her with a flick of his hand, away from the cauldron that he stirred three times counter clockwise before moving on.

Torr wasn't used to someone working with him in his shop and he was almost positive she was being annoying on purpose. Did she really need to ask this many questions? Every time he had a thought or an idea of what to try for one of his own assignments, there she was with that stupid fucking notebook and quill, throwing another question at him. He hadn't wanted to show that she was getting on his nerves because to him that meant weakness and a victory on her part so instead he did just about everything he could do to annoy her right back. Not answering questions, pretending not to hear her just to make her repeat herself only to say "what a dumb question" and not answer her anyway, changing the subject when she got on one of her particularly annoying habits of digging in with that stubborn expression she had.

If not for that no-questions-asked favor he finagled out of her, he would have thrown her out hours ago. He was still tempted to do it.

The heat from the fires under the cauldron licked at his forearms as he checked another potion, jotting down a few notes before he pointed in the direction of some vials with various ingredients. "Hand me that," he demanded and then glanced up. "No, not that one. The beetle dung, Kent," he barked before snatching it out of her hand, twisting the top off and dusting some into his mortar.

"Now what was your question about the Ashwinder?" he asked sweetly, pretending like he didn't remember. She had only repeated the question at least three times. He wondered when she would give up on this. Torr wanted to know how far he could push her. "I already told you how long it would take. Didn't write it in your little notes?" he asked with a sneer as he moved about the room again, rudely bumping her with his shoulder on purpose.

“Do you think I’m purposefully trying to torture you with my presence?” she arched an eyebrow, amused by his choice of words but not completely convinced by them. “If anything, I’m a masochist, I must be if I’ve come to you,” she added pointedly, tucking some loose strands of hair behind her ear as she considered just how much of a masochist one really needed to be to deal with Torrence when you needed something from him. At least, Briony could say that he had always been consistent and though she wasn’t enchanted with his attitude, much of what he said or did had not taken her by surprise. “It’s the knowledge I’m after, Regan,” she added for clarification in case he needed it. But also, to further dissuade him from thinking that she was enjoying this little exchange any more than on a professional level, even if she was.

It wasn’t just that he was being difficult in that he wouldn’t answer her questions or let her inquire about what he was doing but in the sense that he seemed to get a kick from ordering her around. “This—” she started as she reached for a vial, obviously it had been the one he had pointed to until he suddenly changed his mind, “You could’ve just said that,” she muttered in return, recognizing the ingredient almost immediately before handing it to him. Even though he practically snatched it out of her hand, all Briony could really focus on for a moment was that their hands had touched and it flooded her with memories that she was much more comfortable forgetting in the recesses of her mind.

Regardless, Briony had more important matters at hand, like asking the question that she had already felt that she had asked about a hundred times once more. It was important after all, “Must they always be frozen? If manipulated correctly, one must assume that even in their natural state of intense heat, they’d be much more potent, correct?” she asked. It was a valid point, she figured, though Briony had never attempted to handle Ashwinder eggs in their natural state.

“We’ll considering how vague your statements have been, it’s a little hard to know what is fact and what is simply your rude musings over my very valid questions,” she said, only a tiny degree of anger evident in her otherwise calm tone. She didn’t like the idea that spending time with him was making her upset, it wasn’t as if he had been the first Potioneer she had ever encountered with that sort of attitude. But, at the same time, Briony somehow knew deep down that he must be testing her. Clenching her jaw slightly as he bumped into her, she turned to him. “If you’re so desperate to touch me, I’d think you’d be doing much better than bumping into me like a five-year-old,” she said without thinking.

"Whether you're doing it on purpose or not, you're succeeding," he retorted, glancing at her to see her haughty look before smirking and looking away. He hadn't particularly liked her hanging around, buzzing around like an annoying gnat all day, and the only way that had made it tolerable was attempting to irk her as much as she irked him. The word 'masochist' on her lips had him glancing back at her, a devilish smile pulling up his lips. "Well, far be it from me to stand in your way of getting off," he told her, with a lift of his brows, his tone full of the sexual implication he meant to imply.

As much as she was entertaining to annoy, it was just plain annoying in turns. Her grumbles, her attitude, her ungrateful tone.. he'd thought she'd be a little more grateful that he had allowed this at all. "I did say that, pay attention," he snapped at her. He leaned down and grabbed his pestle off the bottom shelf that was tucked under his workbench and started grinding the ingredient, expertly twisting his wrist as he ground it into dust. Just like he hoped to do with whatever resilience she thought she had. He slid his gaze to her and gave her a patronizing smile. "Hmm. No wonder you needed the help. What an amateur question. You probably would've been better retaking fifth year Potions, love," he told her sweetly.

But then as gracious of a teacher as he was, Torr decided to deign her with a response. He explained in a sickeningly sweet tone how Ashwinder eggs needed to be harvested frozen so temperature control was very important, but he didn't leave room for questions or additional commentary. This was the one gift to her she would receive today. The memory of finding some Ashwinder eggs with Perdita resurfaced and he was still angry that she had absconded with them when he had rightly found them.

Torr finished grinding the beetle dung and reached over to grab a measuring spoon to dole out the precise amount before he walked around the table for his scales, his eyes finding her with interest. "Desperate to touch you?" he repeated and came closer, really close, just a hair breadth away from her, looking down into her face, noticing the flecks in her ochre colored eyes. He flicked his gaze between her eyes and her lips and then back again just before laughed in her face and slid away. "Really think highly of yourself, don't you Kent? You should work on that."

Good, she wanted to reply, glad that at least he found her company as displeasing as she found his, though to what degree she was yet to find out. If anything, Briony figured that he was enjoying it, seeing it as some sort of challenge or something equally twisted. And even if she did hear every sexual implication in his words and was mildly curious about the sort of aftermath that would come along with making the mistake of ever opening herself up to him again, Briony also couldn’t stand the fact that she’d even come to such a silly conclusion. But she reminded herself again, for what seemed like the twentieth time that day that they had come to an agreement and that no matter what he said, she was getting the information that she needed.

“I am well aware of how the harvesting of Ashwinder eggs work I was simply asking a hypothetical question,” she responded, much more offended by his insinuation that she should have retaken fifth-year Potions than anything else that he had said to her so far. It spoke to where her priorities were, probably in the wrong place. But regardless of Torrence’s insult, Briony had performed very well in all her coursework, excelling in every class that she took not because she enjoyed the subjects or the studying but because she simply could not stand to be second best at anything. The fact that she had very likeminded friends only made it that much easier to never allow herself to fall behind.

But in Torrence’s presence, she felt a little stupid asking questions and that in itself made her feel even more unwilling to speak to her in the way that she might have spoken to the Potioneering mentors she had encountered in Italy. And to think she even considered asking him to be her mentor so that she could continue working on her certification, Briony almost scoffed at the thought. “Thank you,” she muttered, writing down what he had noted in her notes, making sure to draw a big star beside it to come back to it later. She felt there was more to it and she intended to find out. Possibly from someone that was much easier to have a conversation with.

Briony tensed when he came closer to her, suddenly feeling a little nervous but extremely uncomfortable by the proximity of his face, so much so that she leaned back just slightly. She wasn’t really sure where he was going with this but she held her breath, for a moment very willing to let him do as he wished before chastising herself for even thinking that in the first place. She finally let out a breath when he moved away, her shoulders relaxing. “That’s not what I meant,” she insisted. Maybe she did but didn’t like the sound of it when he called her out on it, “Not nearly as highly as you think of yourself,” she emphasized. “But I suppose you enjoy torturing everyone that comes in asking you for a favor? I assume you haven’t many friends, do you?” she added, leaning closer to check on the potion.

“If this isn’t typical amortentia, will there even be a smell? It’d be highly suspicious if there wasn’t a way to mask the smell and deceive the person my client is attempting to use it on, wouldn’t it? Maybe I’ll have to have you try it after it’s done to see if it works,” she smiled at the thought. It would be amusing at best.

He shrugged at her response and turned away from her so that she couldn't see the satisfied smirk on his face. Was that a hint of insult he had detected in her voice? Good. He hoped he was getting to her. Although, she was still saying 'thank you' and that was something, even if it was heavy with reluctance. "You're quite welcome," he answered back sardonically, well aware there was more he could be doing to help and not giving a shit about it in the least.

She's the one that signed up for this, wanted help and all that. He assumed that she had thought twice before asking him of all people so anything after that was fair game, no holds barred. And he was never a fan of playing fair anyway. Where was the fun in that?

Torr's smug smile was slow as he saw her leaning back away from him. It was retreat even in this tiniest of forms and that meant victory on his part. But then he was moving away anyway and leaving behind that look in her eyes that he couldn't quite decipher and didn't care enough to try. "And that's the difference between me and you. I think very highly of myself and am very deserving of that honor," he said with bravado before glancing her up and down and then shrugged with one shoulder as if to say the same wasn't the case for her. "Believe me when I say anyone coming to ask me for a favor really enjoys the type of torture I provide," Torr added lasciviously, turning with a secret smile to bottle a tiny vial of one of the potions for testing.

He was doing it carefully as this potion was particularly finicky and one he had been working on for weeks so her questions, persistent but annoying, made him sigh with a bit of frustration. She just wouldn't give up, would she. "So am I hearing this correctly? You won't test your own potion? Are you that doubting of your own work?" he tsked as he shot a glance over his shoulder at her.

Briony couldn’t stand the way he talked, she decided but could tolerate it much more than the way his eyes and gestures only further added insult to injury. Whether or not he was going out of his way to make her feel something was yet to be determined but it was obvious that he took much pride in getting a reaction from her with everything that was said. He was enjoying his little power trip, Briony decided, not that it came as any form of a surprise to the witch. “There’s much more merit in having someone else tell you how great you are instead of stroking your own overinflated ego,” she retorted, shrugging at him in the same way that he had shrugged at her as if the words she spoke were a truth that could not be disputed.

“I doubt most people come to you with academic pursuits, Torr,” she continued, “but then again, I really couldn’t care less about the sorts of women you entertain here, I am simply here to find answers to my questions and leave you be, isn’t that what you’d like?” she asked as nonchalantly as she could. Briony was well aware that he wouldn’t suddenly turn a new leaf and ask her to stay should she volunteer to leave, but the small, emotional part of her that remained in the back of her mind would not be entirely opposed to such an idea.
 
Nevertheless, it had become rather obvious that as soon as she walked into the shop with a notebook and quill in hand along with her millions of questions that he couldn’t wait to get rid of her. That, she figured, could be said with much more certainty. Not that she was in any way curious about the sort of company that he entertained in his shop. Maybe she did care a little, as the naturally inquisitive person that she was but that was the last topic of conversation she wanted to have with him. Especially at that very moment when he was obviously so intent on making her give up.

She looked at him rather suspiciously, curious about the effects of the potion but not necessarily willing to test it. It sounded like a challenge, one that she did not like. “Maybe I will, under much more favorable circumstances,” she noted, a nicer way of saying Not here, not with you. How convenient it would be for him, the Potioneer administering the potion, to have her, the foolish girl that had once dealt something for the man in front of her, completely at his bidding. “Amortentia might be a game to you, Torr,” she admonished him as if he wasn’t aware of the potion’s nature. “but we both know it would be an unnecessarily inconvenient situation for the both of us. I’ll simply have to figure something out, maybe try it on one of your girls?” she asked hopefully.

Gods, she was so righteous and judgmental. He wasn’t sure why he had agreed to this little deal in the first place even if he did enjoy getting under her skin. The reward almost wasn’t worth it. He wondered if he was flippant and rude enough if she would walk away all on her own. Go find another potioneer to nag, though admittedly not as good as he was. It was a good thing he had had years of honing his craft of being an absolute asshole.

He gave her a lazy grin at her judgey little comment and said, “I’m happy for someone else to stroke my enormous.. ego. Are you volunteering?”

She wanted his help and yet she threw little insults and assumptions at him, as if he was too dumb to pick up on them. He takes at her again as he bottled up another vial for testing, labeling them with a scratch of his quill on labels he pressed into the glass. “You want my help and get you throw barbs. Manners, Kent,” he admonished her without even a look in her direction.

But the fact that she didn’t want to try the potion, specifically with him there, made him think she had gotten a little smarter in at least some ways. Good girl. Torr turned and leaned against his work bench as he looked at her again, a lazy, indolent smile on his face as he crossed one ankle over the other, his arms crossed in front of him too, a picture of ease and arrogance. He huffed a laugh at her. “On one of my girls?” At least she’s had one thing right there. “If you think I need Amortentia, then I don’t think you’re remembering me correctly. Need me to remind you?” One dark brow perked, promise glittering in his cobalt blue eyes.

Never again, she retorted to his question in her mind almost immediately but dared not say it out loud, knowing that rather than being taken for the insult that it was, Torr would find a way to transform it into something much more sentimental than it was. Or maybe it had been, either way, it wasn’t an avenue she was going to willingly explore with the likes of him. Instead, she took a deep breath, well aware of that tone of his and how it probably meant that he was only moments away from tossing her onto the street without any intention of fulfilling his end of the bargain. Unfortunately, Briony was in no position to complain, she needed the money that came with the potion and therefore needed to push those pesky emotions aside that so often threatened to consume her.

“No…” she started, looking up at him and resisting the urge to roll her eyes, “thank you, I’d rather not,” she said instead. Briony had no intention to apologize, per say, but was perfectly capable of toning it down a little for him. At least, for now.

But it was hard for her not to want to wipe that insolent smirk right off of his face, the look of someone who had won a prize without even trying for it, he wanted to make her uncomfortable, that much was obvious. “I remember,” she said as coolly as she could, even if it was obvious that she had spent time thinking about him in that context before. He might have hurt her but that did not stop her from feeling a little attracted to him, even if it all felt like anger at the moment. “Fine, don’t you have any assistants we can try this one? Or perhaps I can have one of the girls at the apothecary?” she suggested, it wasn’t the best alternative, but it was better than offering herself up. Even if it was all in the name of science.

“Or maybe I’ll just trust your judgement and give it to the man,” she added, looking up at him for any signs of deception. “Or would that be a stupid move on my part?”

Torr shrugged off her decline of his offer with an easy smirk. Why was it so satisfying to get under her skin? He at least was mostly enjoying it, holding her need of his help over her felt so good. And yet she was irritating too. Did all women enjoy being annoying or did it just come naturally?

He heaved another impatient sigh and shook his head. "You're not trying out your piss poor attempts at a basic potion on my assistants. I'm sure you can pay a beggar off the street to.. help you," he told her with a smirk. Would be funny if even a beggar turned her down. Then he slid to the next cauldron and peered inside and then pulled out a timepiece from his pocket, watching the rate of bubbling. Not enough. He spelled the fire a little hotter before moving to the next cauldron.

At her next question, he shook his head and sighed again then leveled a look at her. "Why would you give a potion to a client if you haven't even tested it yourself, Kent? That's the dumbest fucking thing you've said today," he threw at her, irritation clear in his voice. And then fora  reason he didn't know, he threw her a bone. "There are plenty of lowlifes down on Tenth who are willing to test out potions for a fee. Just make sure they're clean first otherwise it might mess with your results," he told her. He was certainly not going to chance the few people he had on call to test his potions on her shoddy work, but there were always more than one way to stir a cauldron.

“They’re hardly piss poor” she retorted, wrinkling her nose in response to him and not in the least bit amused that he would even dare say such a thing. Briony might not have been the best at socializing and possibly not as good at Potioneering as Torr was but it was just due to his experience. Surely he had not put forth as much effort as she had like she did in all of her studies. “It’s not like I’d kill your assistant, and I doubt you couldn’t very well find another one,” she said pointedly.

“I get paid for making the potion, not for guaranteeing that it works,” she said in response though maybe he was right, maybe it was worth putting in a little more pride into her work. And it wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy the challenge, Potioneering had always been fun because it was more about what could be rather than what already was however this was different, this job was done more out of desperation than interest and that desperation had led her here with Torr whom she had all but swore she’d never see again.

“Thank you,” she said several moments after she processed what he was saying, these were the sorts of things that school could not have prepared her for, these loopholes and extra knowledge on where to find things that were probably frowned upon by the magical community. “See, now that wasn’t so hard was it?”

"Ah, but I have them trained exactly how I like so why would I want to start that fun little process over again," he told her sweetly without even bothering to look at her. He had more important things to worry about, the cauldrons calling his attention right in front of him. One potion in particular that had been an ongoing project for the last week was particularly fussy. How annoying.

He moved around the workbench to cauldrons on that side, flicking his fingers at her to get her to move out of his way before he examined the pale peach color of a potion bubbling in this one. Hmm almost there. "I lied earlier. That is the dumbest thing you've ever said," he drawled, half-distracted again even as he threw insults at her. "Why even become a potioneer if you're going to chase off your clientele with shoddy work," he said, glancing at her once just so she could see his arrogant smirk.

Torr stepped back and grabbed a towel to wipe his hands on before he shook his head. "I'm a saint, what can I say," he said simply before he turned on his heel. "See ya, Poesy's around if you really need to irritate someone else," he tossed at her over his shoulder, not bothering to explain that he had to meet a client at the edge of town for a delivery that was so important he had to do it himself. Bri was on her own.

/end

“Well I didn’t become a Potioneer with the intention of doing this sort of work in the first place,” she said pointedly. Her initially attraction to Potioneering had come from her insatiable curiosity, she loved to know how things worked, how she could put herbs together and stir a little magic into creating something wonderful. But she had needed the money and now she was stuck doing the sort of thing she had promised herself she would never have to do—work that she felt absolutely no passion for.

But that wasn’t something she was going to explain to him as she watched him leave, frowning a little at his sudden departure as she felt she had plenty of questions he hadn’t even begun to answer but she left it at that, returning to tend to the potion in the cauldron, wondering if maybe she could convince Poesy to try it out, or something to that effect. 

It felt like she’d be sitting here at least one more hour before she could figure it out.

[/end]