i of newt toil until trouble

Witch Impulse, for all your alchemical needs • c!Impulse rp blog for urban fantasy au • 18+ • multi-shipping friendly

[impulsivealchemy]

Tag Directory (wip)

#impyblogs - original posts & rp threads

#askpulse - answered asks

#open to beeverse - rp starters

#ooc - out of character

tags to be added

[dreamwasinthevents]

Dream has managed to sit up in the time that it took Impulse to stumble. He downs the milk immediately, lurching forward as suddenly both potion effects vanish. He swallows the bile that rose in his throat from the reaction, and settles in the cage. "Think I can get some of that juice too? Wash the taste out of my mouth?"

He glances down at the chicken and narrows his eyes at it. Luck potion or not, he considers swallowing it whole to regain some energy. As if sensing his intentions, the chicken struts calmly out of his range. "I despise you," he growls at the chicken.

[impulsivealchemy]

Impulse drops down on a couch next to the cage before he downs his own milk. He leans back and lets out a large huff of relief as all the lingering effects disappear. The dizziness and disorientation leaves along with the stupor the antidote overdose put him in. The biting edge of withering he didn’t realize was still there calms down. The burning from what he now realizes is magic overload doesn’t go away completely, but it settles to where he doesn’t feel like he’s burning out his own lungs.

“Show some respect for the lady of the house,” Impulse scolds, reaching down. Effie takes the outstretched arm as the invitation it is to climb up and loaf in his lap. “I don’t know about the juice, feeding strays just encourages them. We have enough freeloaders that we enjoy. Give me one reason I shouldn’t box you up and mail you to one of your weird neighbors.”

[dreamwasinthevents]

"The shipping costs for me would be outrageous," he says without missing a beat. "Of all the things in your vents, why the fuck is there a chicken?"

[impulsivealchemy]

“… That is a reason, I’ll give you that,” Impulse admits. “It’s not just any chicken in the vents. Dream meet Effie-Nugget-Henrietta-Doomclaw. Effie meet Dream, the local pest. Unlike you, Effie lives here and is free to roam where she likes.”

Effie clucks looking smug from his lap.

“Why are you always in the vents yourself? Don’t you have an apartment in the other building?”

[impulsivealchemy]

“Oh, of course! I’m Impulse, nice to meet you,” Impulse steps back and swings open the door wider. He bends over, scooping Effie up from underneath with one deft hand when she makes a break for it, the little drama queen.

“This is Effie, the star of the show.” Effie clucks, settling further into a content loaf atop Impulse’s hand. “Please come in, and tell me about what you got there, fabric’s not really my specialty.”

[threadwitchpenelope]

Penny coos at the adorable chicken, then enters the apartment. "Well, I work as an enchanter and a seamstress. I can put enchantments on clothes to various effects. I figured I'd bring some samples for you to look at and then perhaps we could work out a deal?"

She glances around the apartment. "I wouldn't mind making some things for you in exchange for eggs semi-regularly."

[impulsivealchemy]

Impulse sets Effie down in her grassy pen, giving her a few pets when she clucks forlornly at his retreating steps.

“You run the Golden Orb, right? I saw your posters. I’m a witch too. I do commissions, mostly brewing potions, but I’ve been thinking about getting a storefront to build business.” He grabs an empty bowl from the cupboard and opens the fridge, rearranging the eggs to reserve a dozen for Penelope.

“There we go. What sort of things are you offering?”

[impulsivealchemy]

“Coming!” Impulse calls, looking up from his desk at the knock. He caps his redstone dust jar and sets it next to a few vials of pufferfish poison before standing up.

He opens the door, making sure to nudge Effie back with a careful foot, to see a blonde woman on their doorstep.

“Hi, what can I do for you?”

[threadwitchpenelope]

"Hello! I'm Penelope, from the other building. I heard you're offering trades for eggs?"

She holds up a bundle of cloth. "I think I have something you might be interested in and I'd like to hope it's worth a dozen."

[impulsivealchemy]

“Oh, of course! I’m Impulse, nice to meet you,” Impulse steps back and swings open the door wider. He bends over, scooping Effie up from underneath with one deft hand when she makes a break for it, the little drama queen.

“This is Effie, the star of the show.” Effie clucks, settling further into a content loaf atop Impulse’s hand. “Please come in, and tell me about what you got there, fabric’s not really my specialty.”

[impulsivealchemy]

Impulse posts a simple flier to the apartment’s community posting boards. It’s on plain white paper pinned up with black and yellow thumbtacks and covered in various cartoony chicken doodles drawn in the margins by the others.

Fresh free-roam chicken eggs available at apartment 204!

Trade only. No cash, bring something you think is worth similar value.

Sincerely,

Residents of 204; Zedaph, Impulse, Tango, Skizzleman, and Effie-Nugget-Henrietta-Doomclaw

[threadwitchpenelope]

Penny blinks at the ad and considers what she has on hand. She goes back to her apartment to gather a few things, then heads to the other building with a small bundle tucked under her arm.

She knocks on the door and readjusts her offering as she waits.

[impulsivealchemy]

“Coming!” Impulse calls, looking up from his desk at the knock. He caps his redstone dust jar and sets it next to a few vials of pufferfish poison before standing up.

He opens the door, making sure to nudge Effie back with a careful foot, to see a blonde woman on their doorstep.

“Hi, what can I do for you?”

[impulsivealchemy]

Impulse is in a dead-eyed stare down with the broken coffee machine when he hears the shout. There’s no telling who committed such a warcrime; Zed trying to mod it by combining it with the roomba, Tango supercharging and short-circuiting the thing when his coffee doesn’t come out boiling hot enough, Skizz’s general hilarious bad luck. Impulse is pretty sure he didn’t try to transmute it in his sleep again given the lack of extra shiny bits.

Impulse turns to eye his potion brewing stand. There’s swiftness potion in there now but surely add some coffee grounds and…

The shout almost wakes him up. Almost. It echoes out of the (heavily trapped) vent. That’s not the voice of the usual unwanted (an important distinction) trespasser. But Impulse doesn’t recognize it either. Clucking echoes after, not pained but not altogether happy.

Effie.

Oh no. That wakes him right up. He’s too big a guy to fit in those vents himself - no clue how Dream does it. Impulse dumps the finished swiftness potions in his empty mug and rushes out the door. He doesn’t look as he steps onto the elevator and presses a floor, his fingertips still faintly sparkling from yesterday’s order of luck potion.

It takes forever and a half for the doors to ding and open. As soon as they do, Impulse stumbles out only to get a face full of fowl as Effie comes flying at him. The potion effect on her sparkles as she lands ruffled but safe in his arms. There’s a man Impulse has never seen before looking like he got mugged by a feather pillow and lost standing in the communal laundry room.

“Did you just throw my bird?”

[wilbursootings]

Wilbur attempts to push the fucking attack bird away from his face, still shouting as he does. Why do they have an attack bird in their laundry room. Are their washing machines really that special? Was it in the vents? That's Dream's thing, he's pretty sure Dream copyrighted it and everything. He could sue.

The bird goes flying, flapping it's wings, and lands in the arms of a man who probably lives in the building. Apparently the owner of the bird, and Wilbur is pretty sure he has to be neglectful, or why would the thing be traversing the entire building? He should report him to PETA or something.

"I did not throw your bird, I defended myself," he says, crossing his arms. There are definitely feathers in his hair. He doesn't bother to do anything about it. "She landed on my head while I was innocently trying to do my laundry."

[impulsivealchemy]

Impulse stares at the man in front of him. He doesn’t recognize him and he’s fairly close with all the residents. But Impulse is admittedly a bit of a hermit when he gets too deep in brewing, so it’s possible he missed something. The man does look very put out though with his spilled laundry and the feathers tangled in his hair. Pathetic all around. In a way that makes him want to pat them on the back and laugh. Well, Impulse isn’t in the habit of driving out strangers who come in through the front door.

“Effie, were you being rude to a neighbor? I taught you better,” Impulse scolds. Effie clucks innocent as ever, turning to stare in the exact opposite direction of the man she harassed moments ago. Impulse shakes his head. Such a bad liar. “Sorry about Effie. I’m Impulse. My coffee machine’s down but how about I treat you to a cup of something while you wait?”

[impulsivealchemy]

Impulse posts a simple flier to the apartment’s community posting boards. It’s on plain white paper pinned up with black and yellow thumbtacks and covered in various cartoony chicken doodles drawn in the margins by the others.

Fresh free-roam chicken eggs available at apartment 204!

Trade only. No cash, bring something you think is worth similar value.

Sincerely,

Residents of 204; Zedaph, Impulse, Tango, Skizzleman, and Effie-Nugget-Henrietta-Doomclaw

[dreamwasinthevents]

Dream has managed to sit up in the time that it took Impulse to stumble. He downs the milk immediately, lurching forward as suddenly both potion effects vanish. He swallows the bile that rose in his throat from the reaction, and settles in the cage. "Think I can get some of that juice too? Wash the taste out of my mouth?"

He glances down at the chicken and narrows his eyes at it. Luck potion or not, he considers swallowing it whole to regain some energy. As if sensing his intentions, the chicken struts calmly out of his range. "I despise you," he growls at the chicken.

[impulsivealchemy]

Impulse drops down on a couch next to the cage before he downs his own milk. He leans back and lets out a large huff of relief as all the lingering effects disappear. The dizziness and disorientation leaves along with the stupor the antidote overdose put him in. The biting edge of withering he didn’t realize was still there calms down. The burning from what he now realizes is magic overload doesn’t go away completely, but it settles to where he doesn’t feel like he’s burning out his own lungs.

“Show some respect for the lady of the house,” Impulse scolds, reaching down. Effie takes the outstretched arm as the invitation it is to climb up and loaf in his lap. “I don’t know about the juice, feeding strays just encourages them. We have enough freeloaders that we enjoy. Give me one reason I shouldn’t box you up and mail you to one of your weird neighbors.”

[dreamwasinthevents]

"My name is Nugget, and I'm a big fat chicken," Dream chimes before he can stop himself. He lays on the floor, pretty much prone due to the weakness potion. He twitches every time the poison ticks damage on him too. "Hey, uh, dude, not to add to whatever the fuck's going on with you, but do you have any kind of healing? This poison fucking hurts."

[impulsivealchemy]

Impulse hums and walks over to the kitchen. Well stumbles. Effie follows with a much more dignified strut. The burning in his chest hasn’t gone away. Instead it’s slowly spread to his limbs. A problem for future Impulse. Just like the now gold handle of the fridge. A surge of magic flooded his tattoos, activated the redstone dust infused in the ink, and turned the plastic to gold. Did he eat a redstone block while he wasn’t looking??? Instead of thinking, Impulse calls out, “I have juice… leftover pasta… Effie eggs… someone ate my cake… Wait who-? Oh! Milk!”

After a lot of banging around and the sound of something shattering against the floor, Impulse returns to the living room holding two mugs of milk. His mug is black with four hearts in pink, yellow, red, and blue in a row. He sets the extra one next to Dream’s head. It’s white and covered in cartoonishly round honey bees.

[wilbursootings]

Wilbur doesn't usually venture into the Hermit building. It's not the sort of place you should go into lightly, especially if you're a friend of Tommy Innit. Mostly because he will shout at you for fifteen minutes about his nemesis who apparently lives in the building.

Wilbur has a feeling the so-called nemesis probably doesn't feel the same, much like the barista Tommy had declared his nemesis a month ago.

But the Hermit building has a laundry room that is clean and machines that don't somehow dye his white shirts pink, so he can sneak over here to do his laundry and leave before anyone notices he's there. Usually it works perfectly.

Usually.

He carefully ignores the weird noises from the vents when he first hears them; used to it from hearing Dream crawl around. Granted, this sounds different. There's more. Clucking?

He tilts his head, looking at the ceiling just in time for a blur of feathers and claws and a beak to descend on his head, shimmering faintly with magic, and he shouts loud enough he's pretty sure the entire building can hear him.

"What the fuck?"

[impulsivealchemy]

Impulse is in a dead-eyed stare down with the broken coffee machine when he hears the shout. There’s no telling who committed such a warcrime; Zed trying to mod it by combining it with the roomba, Tango supercharging and short-circuiting the thing when his coffee doesn’t come out boiling hot enough, Skizz’s general hilarious bad luck. Impulse is pretty sure he didn’t try to transmute it in his sleep again given the lack of extra shiny bits.

Impulse turns to eye his potion brewing stand. There’s swiftness potion in there now but surely add some coffee grounds and…

The shout almost wakes him up. Almost. It echoes out of the (heavily trapped) vent. That’s not the voice of the usual unwanted (an important distinction) trespasser. But Impulse doesn’t recognize it either. Clucking echoes after, not pained but not altogether happy.

Effie.

Oh no. That wakes him right up. He’s too big a guy to fit in those vents himself - no clue how Dream does it. Impulse dumps the finished swiftness potions in his empty mug and rushes out the door. He doesn’t look as he steps onto the elevator and presses a floor, his fingertips still faintly sparkling from yesterday’s order of luck potion.

It takes forever and a half for the doors to ding and open. As soon as they do, Impulse stumbles out only to get a face full of fowl as Effie comes flying at him. The potion effect on her sparkles as she lands ruffled but safe in his arms. There’s a man Impulse has never seen before looking like he got mugged by a feather pillow and lost standing in the communal laundry room.

“Did you just throw my bird?”

[dreamwasinthevents]

Dream managed to worm his way into the Hermit's vents, somehow managing to not trigger some of the traps he could see. He doesn't know what Tommy's thinking by saying these vents are worse then their own. Fucking brand new, barely any dust to be found, and...

A chicken.

Dream stares at the chicken. It stares back at him.

There's luck potion on the chicken, giving it an unnatural glint. He narrows his eyes at it.

The chicken stares back at him. Cocks its head and Dream feels a sense of impending doom. It almost seems to say, "Better luck next time!"

And then three things happen almost simultaneously: 1) a potion of poison and weakness splashes on him; 2) a cage drops right on him, trapping him in a very small space; and 3) he drops through the vent into Impulse's living room.

"Well. Fuck."

[impulsivealchemy]

Impulse is trending to his window box full of roses - his very favorite, very rare, and very deadly wither roses - when a cage comes crashing out of the ceiling vent and lands in front of him.

Admittedly it is a familiar cage.

With a familiar unwelcome vent dweller dripping potion inside.

That doesn’t help the withering effect already turning his veins black from the rose he just crushed in his hand.

“Fuck,” Impulse agrees.

Biting back so many more curses, Impulse snatches up the obnoxiously bright pink spray bottle hanging next to the planter. He pops off the top and chugs the antidote they usually use on small cuts. In small doses. His chest burns like that one time he ate redstone on a dare and the world goes fuzzy around the edges, but the creeping black stops just above his elbow.

He isn’t dead! Yay.

It isn’t going away.

Hmmm.

He is a bit dizzy though.

Effie clucks and starts pecking at the lock on the cage. Impulse giggles.

“Eff-ee. Nugget. You’re so small. Why’d I name you Nugget? Are you made of gold?”

[peskypeskybird]

So I found this chicken sitting on the fire escape. Zed has already convinced Skizz we should keep her. How much trouble do you think we’d get in if the landlord finds out?

I mean, one building over they're allowed to keep Dream, so I think a chicken is perfectly reasonable.

[impulsivealchemy]

Impulse stares and tilts his head. Effie (short for Effie-Nugget-Henrietta-Doomclaw, destroyer of couches, the first of her name, queen of the fire escape, second freeloader of apartment 204) tilts her head in turn. Freshly washed, dried, and spoiled with treats by the entire apartment, she’s looking much better than the waterlogged bird he found.

Zed has officially won this argument, the conniver. He wormed Effie right into their hearts. Good thing Impulse didn’t find a sheep or he’s certain they’d be starting a farm.

There is the matter of where to house her though. Tango helped him set up a “mini portable indoor magickified grass field” in their guest room while Zed and Skizz built her a tiny coop. Tango also tampered with the window hinges to let her in and out of their balcony garden. But Impulse doesn’t want her to be restrained to the small four walls of their apartment. She deserves the chance to wander, to stretch her legs and explore. They all have half a dozen ways to track her down so losing her isn’t an issue. But where would be concealed from the landlord enough and safe enough to let a chicken free roam?

A soft ding from his brewing stand distracts Impulse. His potions are ready! His pest control prank potions…

Well there’s a thought! His traps aren’t deadly. And it’s nothing a few drops of luck potion won’t help her avoid until he thinks up an alternative.

Impulse watches Effie’s feathery behind disappear around a bend in the vents, gold sparks of luck haloing her head, a small bottle of light around her neck brightening the dark space as she goes.

[impulsivealchemy]

I don't know if it was you who put a cage trap in the vents but if it was you please up your game or add more traps, I think Dream's going to try to get in again.

Cage traps in the vent? Why, I'd never! ... but if you had any clues as to which entrance some unnamed vent pest might choose next I'm all ears.

For non-terrorizing reasons of course!

And please ignore any suspicious potions lying around or screams coming from the vents. :D

[peskypeskybird]

Deal. Pass the word along to Zed and Tango?

[impulsivealchemy]

Now that just sounds like cruel and unusual punishment lol. But will do o7

Should I keep an eye out for any vents under your “watch”?

[impulsivealchemy]

I don't know if it was you who put a cage trap in the vents but if it was you please up your game or add more traps, I think Dream's going to try to get in again.

Cage traps in the vent? Why, I'd never! ... but if you had any clues as to which entrance some unnamed vent pest might choose next I'm all ears.

For non-terrorizing reasons of course!

And please ignore any suspicious potions lying around or screams coming from the vents. :D