Bob potion recipes

Bob did so, in fine humor, and for the next two hours we made potions. Potions are all made pretty much the same way. First you need a base to form the essential liquid content; then something to engage each of the senses, and then something for the mind and something else for the spirit. Eight ingredients, all in all, and they're different for each and every potion, and for each person who makes them. Bob had centuries of experience, and he could extrapolate the most successful components for a given person to make into a potion. He was right about being an invaluable resource - I had never even heard of a spirit with Bob's experience, and I was lucky to have him.
That didn't mean I didn't want to crack that skull of his from time to time, though.
The escape potion was made in a base of eight ounces of Jolt cola. We added a drop of motor oil, for the smell of it, and cut a bird's feather into tiny shavings for the tactile value. Three ounces of chocolate-covered espresso beans, ground into powder, went in next. Then a shredded bus ticket I'd never used, for the mind, and a small chain which I broke and then dropped in, for the heart. I unfolded a clean white cloth where I'd had a flickering shadow stored for just such an occasion, and tossed it into the brew, then opened up a glass jar where I kept my mouse scampers and tapped the sound out into the beaker where the potion was brewing . . .
"You're sure this is going to work, Bob?" I said.
"Always. That's a super recipe, there. "
"Smells terrible. "
Bob's lights twinkled. "They usually do. "
"What's it doing? Is this the superspeed one, or the teleportation version?"
Bob coughed. "A little of both, actually. Drink it, and you'll be the wind for a few minutes. "
"The wind?" I eyed him. "I haven't heard of that one before, Bob. "
"I am an air spirit, after all," Bob told me. "This'll work fine. Trust me. "
I grumbled, and set the first potion to simmering, then started on the next one. I hesitated, after Bob told me the first ingredient.
"Tequila?" I asked him, skeptically. "Are you sure on that one? I thought the base for a love potion was supposed to be champagne. "
"Champagne, tequila, what's the difference, so long as it'll lower her inhibitions?" Bob said.
"Uh. I'm thinking it's going to get us a, um, sleazier result. "
"Hey!" Bob protested, "Who's the memory spirit here! Me or you?"
"Well - "
"Who's got all the experience with women here? Me or you?"
"Bob - "
"Harry," Bob lectured me, "I was seducing shepherdesses when you weren't a twinkle in your great-grandcestor's eyes. I think I know what I'm doing."
I sighed, too tired to argue with him. "Okay, okay. Sheesh. Tequila. " I got down the bottle, measured eight ounces into the beaker, and glanced up at the skull.
"Right. Now, three ounces of dark chocolate. "
"Chocolate?" I demanded.
"Chicks are into chocolate, Harry. "
I muttered, more interested in finishing than anything else, and measured out the ingredients. I did the same with a drop of perfume (some name-brand imitation that I liked), an ounce of shredded lace, and the last sigh at the bottom of the glass jar. I added some candlelight to the mix, and it took on a rosy golden glow.
"Great," Bob said. "That's just right. Okay, now we add the ashes of a passionate love letter. "
I blinked at the skull. "Uh, Bob. I'm fresh out of those."
Bob snorted. "How did I guess. Look on the shelf behind me. "
I did, and found a pair of romance novels, their covers filled with impossibly delightful flesh. "Hey! Where did you get these?"
"My last trip out," Bob answered blithely. "Page one seventy-four, the paragraph that starts with, 'Her milky-white breasts. Tear that page out and burn it and add those ashes in. "
I choked. "That will work?"
"Hey, women eat these things up. Trust me. "
"Fine," I sighed. "This is the spirit ingredient?"
"Uh-huh," Bob said. He was rocking back and forth on his jawbones in excitement. "Now, just a teaspoon of powdered diamond, and we're done. "
I rubbed at my eyes. "Diamond. I don't have any diamonds, Bob. "
"I figured. You're cheap, that's why women don't like you. Look, just tear up a fifty into real little pieces and put that in there. "
"A fifty-dollar bill?" I demanded.
"Money," Bob opined, "Very sexy. "
I muttered and got the remaining fifty out of my pocket, shredding it and tossing it in to complete the potion.
The next step was where the effort came in. Once all the ingredients are mixed together, you have to
force enough energy through them to activate them. It isn't the actual physical ingredients that are important - it's the meaning that they carry, too, the significance that they have for the person making the potion, and for those who will be using it.


Storm Front Chapter 8, Page 87-90