Strange Brews

[Miriam Bell]

"Seriously considering it. Especially since not having the right thing to wear is hardly an excuse now." she laughs.

[Will Stanton]

"Well, just be careful, or your elegant dress might end up petticoats and Mary Janes mid-smoldering look," Will teased.

[Miriam Bell]

"I thought you said you were done trying to murder me?"

[Will Stanton]

"Oh, I'm sure you wouldn't die of embarrassment. Now, maybe someone else would die laughing......"

[Miriam Bell]

"Watch it, I'm not above cutting a dress into dishrags. But you probably wouldn't even mind that, would you?" she teases.

[Will Stanton]

"Ah, you misunderstand.

Being a dress? Fine. Being cut into strips? Sounds fun. Being a dishrag? You know I'm all in.

All three in succession? Well, now you're using the dress wrong, and that is a bit nails-on-chalkboard. Connecting the first and the third is the problem."

[Miriam Bell]

"Good to know. Have to tailor my threats correctly."

[Will Stanton]

"Ah, but then you'd have to explain to Sam why your flats are in the toaster and the DVD is being used as a coaster and there's a tiny man hogtied in the soap dish or something. Total anarchy."

[Miriam Bell]

"Oh I'm sure she'll figure this out. So what you're saying is I shouldn't use this bottle as a candle-holder?" she asks and dips two pinched fingers into the clay to tug some of it upwards with the mental image of a candle imprinting onto it as she pulls it up and out of Will. "Or does that count as up-cycling?"

[Will Stanton]

Miriam pinched and tugged, withdrawing a long tapered sage-green candle, about 10 inches tall. It wasn't perfectly straight; the curves and twists suggesting and hinting at Will's feminine form without explicitly defining it.

I suppose that would depend on the upcycler," the candle thought at her. If they're just being creative or if they're striking a blow against consumerism."

[Miriam Bell]

"What about against cheeky shapeshifters?" she smirks and puts the candle into the bottle opening with the top first and rather than set it up as a candle holder just starts shoving the candle into the bottle's neck.

[Will Stanton]

Woah, what th... Will mentally protested as they were shoved wick-first into the bottle. A split appeared at the base of the candle, two stumps that could be legs if you squinted just right kicking slightly as Miriam jammed it in.

[Miriam Bell]

With just the 'legs' sticking out she puts the bottle down and peers in, clinking against the glass with a fingernail.

[Will Stanton]

The candle pivoted a little in the bottle, just enough for the 'front' to approach Miriam. The candle gained a little more definition; still clearly made from wax but a little more recognizable, Will's hair braided up in a ponytail that slimmed down into the wick of the candle proper.

It was enough personification for Miriam to tell Will was sticking her tongue out at her, and flipping her the bird.

[Miriam Bell]

"Classy." she smirks and leans over the edge of the cauldron to set the bottle onto the ground.

"You really are a brat, no matter the shape you're in."

[Will Stanton]

"Some things transcend shape, form and substance," the cauldron agreed. "What, you thought being green was my only identifying characteristic?"

The candle continued to squirm, though it was stuck fairly securely in the bottle. Shifting into clear, defined arms and legs -- or just shrinking slightly -- would free it pretty much instantaneously, but that didn't appear to be Plan A...

[Miriam Bell]

"Just making sure you know why you're being stuffed into a bottle. Maybe if you behave I'll light the candle."

[Will Stanton]

"Pulling me out to specifically not use me? Oh, I'm not sure that's a battle you want to get into, Miriam," the cauldron chuckled.

With a squeak, a thump and a splash, the candle fell all the way into the bottle, briefly bobbing up and down in the remaining champagne. Some loose wax, stripped off by scraping against the bottle's lip, floated on top. The candle itself had a couple grooves now cut into its side where it had scraped itself through, visible through the glass as it righted itself with a smug look on its face.

[Miriam Bell]

"Well, now I definitely can't light it. That's on you though." she says and swirls the bottle around.

[Will Stanton]

Will fell back over as Miriam swirled the bottle around, sloshing the remaining champagne over her and causing her to slide up against the side of the glass. She pouted a little, and bobbed in place for a minute, eying the smooth sides of the bottle contemplatively.

[Miriam Bell]

"I don't think so." she smirks and rakes her fingers through the clay until she fishes out what she has in mind, a cork with which to stopper the bottle. "Cheeky girls get a bubble-bath in the time-out bottle."

[Will Stanton]

The cork fit snugly into the top of the bottle, sealing it from the outside world. Miriam would pick up a sense of smug satisfaction from that one at keeping the candle trapped -- the cork being used properly, don't you know.

The wax Will stomped her feet a little bit, making a splash in the champagne, before pressing her hands flush to the side of the bottle. With a bit of concentration, they melted a little bit, flattening out and sticking to the sides. She then began trying to climb up the side of the bottle, bit by bit.

[Miriam Bell]

"Well, she's having fun." Miriam grins, slowly tilting the bottle so the vertical climb slowly turns into an overhanging one.

[Will Stanton]

The Will-in-the-bottle was left dangling from the side, her legs kicking in midair as she tried to adjust to the changing topography. Swinging back and forth and gathering some momentum, she began monkey-barring it towards the cork, picking up speed.

[Miriam Bell]

Unfortunately for WaxWill, Miriam shifts her grip to hold the bottle by the neck, which makes the steepest part of the climb warmer and more inclined to soften wax hands trying to cling to the surface.

"You're nothing if not persistent, I'll give you that." she laughs.

[Will Stanton]

Will gamely kept at it for a minute, but Miriam could see Will's hands losing their definition, wax fingers melting into one another until they resembled a ball rather than an actual hand. That softened the grip enough that Will lost connection entirely, sending her plummeting back down to the bottom of the bottle with a splash.

Will pouted for a moment, spitting out some of the champagne. Temporarily stymied, she moved from action to petulance. She turned around to face away from Miriam and shifted to add a little more definition to her form, mooning the telepath.