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Rue Delaney

Tally Staff
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About Rue Delaney

  • Birthday 01/22/1990

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  • Pronouns
    She/Her
  • Time Zone
    GMT + 10

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  1. Rue couldn’t do much but stand there silently while the young lady walked out of the classroom. She blinked. Well, that didn’t go well at all. She sighed and made a mental note to contact her later. She turned to address the class that remained, nodding gently to the newcomers. ‘I apologise if anything I have said over the last few minutes left you with the impression that I do not few fairies as sentient, intelligent beings on equal footing with us. Because they are. My point is simply that they operate on laws often unknown and incomprehensible to us, and demand respect. Not doing so is liable to be dangerous. Remember Hippogriffs.’ She tilted her head. ‘Herbology, Potions and Care of Magical Creatures all have some overlap. Please defer to the relevant professors for their expertise.’ She was angry with herself as what Geraltine had said finally clicked. Care of Magical Creatures, right. That did seem like something of a faux pas. But then what was deemed ‘sentient’ seemed so arbitrary. Were hippogriffs not sentient? Despite their complicated systems of honour and pride? ‘If you’ll excuse me. I’d best check on the young lady who just left.’ She meant Samhain. She’d sensed some distress. It wasn’t as though she could entirely leave the classroom, that would be irresponsible. But once she was out of earshot of the rest of the class she called softly to Kiki, giving her a piece of paper to carry to Samhain. ‘Make sure she’s okay for me, please?’ With a small yowl, the cat raced off. Samhain would find a small black cat following her with a note in her jaws that read: Are you alright? Please send a response with Kiki, I can provide you with class notes later if you wish. Ps. Don’t be nervous, Kiki gives wonderful hugs.
  2. Rue smiled reassuringly at Samhain, filing all the information away in her mind for a later date. Geraldine’s prior experience didn’t tell her much, which was frustrating. Ah well. ‘We’ll make a start then.’ She picked up the roll and started through through it with her fountain pen, changing the ink to green and red as needed to tally up the house points. Rue frowned, tapping her lip with her pen in thought as she considered the final tallies. ‘Okay we have a number of students still missing, but I’ll knock ten points off their penalty so long as they arrive and complete the task today.’ Placing the clipboard down, she faced the class and indicated the objects on the table before her with a wide sweep of her hands. The table contained a central basket of banksia pods, some soft bristled paint brushes, a box of gardening gloves and several glass jars filled with a thick golden liquid. ‘I’m sure you are all at least passingly familiar with faeries. You may have heard stories about them. But the most important lesson you will ever learn from Mr Eron and myself is that you must never insult a fairy creature.’ Her expression was grave. ‘Ever. It may be the last thing you ever do.’ Rue smiled again, trying to be reassuring. ‘Of course what we consider ‘rude’ may be quite different from what the fair folk do. In general, avoid insults, politely refuse all gifts, and never thank them for their work. Anything that implies that you owe them a favour might put you on the hook for something unpleasant later down the road.’ She pulled on a pair of gloves and picked up a banksia pod, showing them to the class. ‘I’m sure you all recognise these but just in case: These are seed pods from the banksia tree, very common throughout Australia. They appear quite ordinary, but if you know how, you can get them to talk.’ She rapped one with her knuckles. ‘These creatures are not fae, but they make useful go-betweens if you are not confident in your skill in communicating with fairies. They also make excellent practice.’ Placing the banksia pod back down, she picked up a jar of honey. ‘Banksia people are extremely rude, so be prepared for some foul language. And I don’t want to hear you repeat any of it! Understand? You’re all adults. I’m sure I can trust you.’ She unscrewed the top of the jar. ‘Unlike humans, fairies don’t take insult to banksia people. They find them quite amusing and they generally cannot do them any real harm, as they are both magical. This means that you can practice your fairy etiquette with banksias, but you can also use them to pass messages and requests on to the fair folk without fear of mistakes.’ She held up the jar. ‘Of course, Banksia’s don’t normally talk. That’s where this comes in.’ Rue reached into her robe pocket and produced her wand, turning around to write in the air as if it were a chalkboard. The letters stood out easily in the slight shade of the tree. ‘This is your recipe. I suggest you write it down in your books. I’ve prepared a mixture in advance for today.’ The writing read: 1 cup of wattle honey Mix with a teaspoon of morning dew Add crushed mint to taste Charge by the sun for 3 days. Or the moon for 2 days. Please note: Cloudy days don’t count. You’ll have to leave it out for three sunny days, they don't have to be consecutive. Rue put the unscrewed jar down on the table and picked up the banksia once more. ‘So all you need to do for today is take a little bit of the honey on your brush, like so’ - she dipped a brush in the jar. ‘And smear it on the banksia pod. You should aim to get it into one of the little ‘mouth’ like open pods for the best effect.’ There was a pause as she did so. The banksia in her hand shuddered, shedding dust and excess bark until three mismatched eyes opened in the pod, dropping seeds everywhere. ‘Bloody hell Lady! What time do you call this?’ It yawned widely. ‘Woke me up from the best dream I’ve had in ages.’ It glared around at the class. ‘Ugh. Let’s get on with it then!’ The banksia opened and closed its mouth as if chewing for a moment, seeming to settle down a little as it registered the honey mixture. ‘… pretty bloody good stuff this…’ Rue cleared her throat, looked at the class and laid a finger on her lips with a wink - she then proceeded to say something quite rude to the plant, though notably she didn’t use any foul language. The little thing promptly went still and closed it’s mouth with an audible snap. No matter how Rue prompted it with more honey, it remained silent. ‘And that’s why they make good practice. If you’re rude to them, raise your voice even a little, they’ll stop talking. They’ll do whatever they can to provoke you. So watch your tongue. Oh and they bite, so don’t forget your gloves.’ She put her instruments down on the table, stripped off her gloves and dusted her fingers. ‘Right then! Everything you need is right here. Form groups if you like. Sit where you like within reason. I want you to talk to these little ones, ask anything you like and make a note of what you found interesting or boring about the experience and hand in your notebooks at the end of class.’ She checked her watch. ‘We’ve got just under 40 minutes. I think that will be sufficient.’ Rue returned to her little seat under the tree, picking up her book. ‘If you’ve any questions I’ll be right here, and I’ll come around to check your progress as we go.’ She considered for a moment before waving her wand again. ‘End of term homework is to make your own honey mixture. As long as it works you’ve passed. Though if the banksias particularly like your brew, you’ll get extra points.’ ((OOC: For absent players - if you post in this thread participating in class then the house point penalty will drop to -5. Homework can be done just by discussing with me on Discord or PM. Just let me know how well you want your character to do and I'll award points accordingly. If you like we can rp it out, but it's obviously not necessary.))
  3. Rue nodded, taking her hands away from the polished broom handles and followed Violet into another section of the shop. She cleared her throat. ‘In truth, this is my first time since graduating.’ She shrugged with an unsure little smile playing at her lips. ‘I was never the swiftest in flight, but I was stable and I’m reasonably confident I can stay aloft for a long time, provided I don’t try anything reckless.’ She had never owned her own broom, always relying on the school supply for the few times she needed one. Quidditch wasn’t an especial passion of hers, but she enjoyed watching the games even if she could barely follow the passage of the balls. ‘I’m a new teacher at Tallygarunga this year. I’ll need to learn all the rules of Quidditch over again if I want to support my students!’ Hopefully none of them ever asked her to practice with them. Rue could just picture herself toppling over headfirst into the oval grass if she tried to so much as swing a bat.
  4. Rue hummed in response. As absorbed as she was in the broomstick in front of her, she didn’t hear Violet’s question for a few seconds. Then she turned her head and smiled distractedly. ‘They look wonderful, but I’m afraid I don’t know much about brooms.’ She ran a hand admiringly over the clean polished wood. ‘In truth, I’m a first-time customer. I’m a little tired of using the telephone wires to travel around - not at all good for my health.’ She said this while looking like no one could possibly be healthier, with a healthy complexion despite her fair skin and a fair amount of strength in her diminutive frame. She turned to face Violet with a slight rustle of green skirts. ‘You would play Quidditch, I assume?’
  5. Rue looked up at the sound of Geraldine’s approach, setting a heavy book down on the table and clicking her tongue in sympathy. ‘Come under the tree, dear. It’s cooler.’ Frowning, she approached the young woman, tilting her head from side to side as she examined her face and tutted. Turning around, she snagged a large tub of sunscreen out from under the table. It was the stock kind, bought from coles that morning - cancer council. ‘Slather yourself with this. I won’t have you burning on my first day.’ She pushed the bottle at Geraldine and turned to greet her other students, waving happily. ‘Ah! Good.’ She stood on her toes, pointing at each in turn and counting under her breath. ‘Five already. Excellent.’ She produced a clipboard stuffed high with tattered papers, dug in the pockets of her long skirt and found a fountain pen. ‘Sign your names away and find a comfortable spot. Don’t be shy! It’s much cooler under the pouches.’ Rue pointed above her head to the gently turning sachets hanging from the branches, which gave off the scent of mint leaves and a cool flurry of air. Rue studied her watch for a moment, frowning. The class had five minutes to start and she didn’t really want to rush into things. Nor did she want to have to mark students late on the first day. She decided to give them another ten minutes all up before the red ink came out. ‘Alright! I might as well introduce myself. Good morning everyone. My name is Rue Delaney and I will be your Herbology professor. I’d love to learn everyone’s names but I’m a forgetful sort so you’ll have to forgive me if I get any of them wrong.’ She smiled distractedly, tucking a stray lock of bright red hair behind her ears. ‘Seeing as I’m as unfamiliar with you as you are with me, why don’t you all tell me a bit about yourselves and how much you know about plants? It gives me something to work with.’ She paused, hands tucked into her skirt and clearly waiting for volunteers.
  6. (Timothea Dracias) Geraldine (nor, indeed, the professor) didn't have to wait long before the crunch of feet on grass became audible. A second later, if one were to turn their head, the person those sounds were originating from came into view: an averagely slender girl of average height and an average head of brown hair, who had an uncommonly mischievous grin on her face as she walked into the area with a sprightly step. Perhaps it was because she liked herbology--perhaps it was because she had finally cracked the code to the perfect stinkbomb recipe. Maybe it was even both. With Tim Dracias, it was rather hard to tell. "Huh," she murmurs to herself through heavy breaths--she wasn't much for walking, or indeed much physical activity. "Second one here. What the hell?"
  7. 6/02/18 It was a hot afternoon, even in the relative shade of the eucalyptus trees of the central gardens. A number of fold out tables had been set up in the shade, complete with chairs and baskets of equipment. Closest to the tree was a wood bench covered with a patchwork quilt and strewn with chalk and odd herbs. Scented pouches hung from the branches of the trees, charmed to give off a cool breeze as they dangled so that the air surrounding the tables was a good ten degrees colder than it should have been. Rue paced around the circumference of the gardens, speaking quietly to the empty air and making odd gestures each time she paused. A flash of green lit from under her feet and she smiled, satisfied. The wards were set, none of the Neighbours would be able to enter should they come looking for her. ‘… and in her right hand, a silver dagger~’ She hummed to herself as she looked over the equipment once more. The roll - check. The subjects - check. Potion - check. Gloves - check. First aid kit - check. ‘She says that I, can’t be your bride~’ All that she needed now were her students. Rue looked at her watch, ten minutes until class time. Oh she did hope she wouldn’t have to give anyone detention on her first day…
  8. Rue Delaney

    Rue Delaney

    Rue was born in South Australia on a bush property an hour or so outside of Ceduna. Her family consisted of a single father raising her along with two other sisters and his elderly mother. Her grandma took care of the children while her father worked in town. She was a solitary child and more than a little odd. Out of all the children in her class, she consistently caused the most trouble. Frogs in the fishtank, a baby wallaby in the lost property basket, odd writing all over the classroom walls, children crying about curses and bunyips. Her father was at a loss. It only got worse once she entered primary school. Finally her grandma took her aside and had a long conversation during which her father was not allowed in the kitchen. After that every weekend and Friday afternoon they would pack a lunch and go walking in the bush. Her dad wasn't sure what they did, but Rue was much calmer in school. Then when she turned eleven, her father woke at midnight to smell burning. Fearing the worst, he entered her bedroom and discovered the incense, the small animal bones and dried plants strewn everywhere with his youngest daughter sitting in the middle, smeared with charcoal. He was furious. Her grandma only scolded her for attempting such an advanced spell. An explanation was due. Her father and grandma had a long conversation and Rue could understand very little of it from listening at the keyhole. But in the morning her father seemed calm and her grandma was writing a letter. The letter was addressed to the Principal of Tallygarunga. 'Sorry, but could you accept a late student?' It wasn't the old magic. It wasn't traditional. They wouldn't teach her how to find a hagstone, or charm a faerie knight. But her grandma was too old to teach her, too frail to keep up with her energy. Rue attended Tally the following year and became quite notorious for her pranks. Fortunately she grew a sense of responsibility and no one was ever seriously hurt. Once she graduated, she decided to stay on as a teacher. She took an apprenticeship with the former herbology expert for three years and later completed a Bachelor of Education at the local muggle university. 2018 will be her first teaching year.
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