::The landlord brings Wesley into a really shit apartment.::

"Here you go, slut."

::Wesley frowns and continues to gag from...you know. He looks to the landlord, expecting him to hand over the keys and such.::

::Which he does, and slaps Wesley's bum.::

"Rent's $5000 a week. I expect a downpayment sometimes soon."

::He leaves.::

::Wesley glares outrageously at the door as the Landlord leaves, just speechl--...er, unable to think of the words to convey his feelings about the ridiculous rent, especially considering the quality of the apartment. He walks to the refrigerator, opening it only to find spoiled milk in a half-gallon jug.::

("Best by November 27, 2003".)

::Wesley decides not to deal with the rotten milk right now and heads over to the couch to watch TV. Of course, he doesn't have cable and the reception frankly sucks.::

::Bored, Wesley turns off the TV and walks out, trying to think up some ways to pay his extravagant rent.::

::Wesley enters his apartment and leaves the door open to see people passing by in the hallway.::

::Wesley looks at his crappy coffee maker and looks around to see if he had the appropriate items needed. After checking the pantry and cabinets, he manages to find some crap coffee and sugar.::

(I wonder if one of the neighbors would be willing to let me use one of their coffee filters.)

::Wesley leaves his apartment and walks into the hallway.::

::Wesley enters his apartment for the first time in two months, completely forgetting about how shitty his apartment is. He locks the door and lies down on the couch, falling asleep eventually.::

::Wesley wakes up, showering, changes clothes and performs other grooming tasks. He then walks out to the hallway.::

::Wesley locks the door behind himself and hobbles to the couch. He takes a seat and sets the large stick next to the couch before lying down and groans in discomfort because of his ankle. He elevates his feet on the arm of the couch and falls asleep minutes later.::

::Wesley wakes up and stands up from the couch and cringes, remembering about his ankle, which is swollen by now. He limps over to his makeshift cane and walks to the hallway with his communication materials.::

::Wesley enters his apartment and hobbles to the kitchen. He walks to the counter near the stove, turning it on and puts the herbs down. He finds a pot already on the counter and fills it up with water before placing it on the stove. Feeling somewhat recharged from his earlier nap, he gestures his hands and a wind skitters a barstool towards him. He stops the wind flow and takes a seat.

Wesley writes down and measurement the amounts of the ingredients he's using as he works. He drops something here and there into the boiling water and after seeing the stuff boil for a while, Wesley scoops some of it out with a ladle and transfers it into a bowl. He takes it to the couch and places his finger inside of the bowl to get some of the stuff out and rubs it against his swollen ankle, waiting for the results of his experiment.::

[It works. Your ankle feels much better. Wait. You ankle turns a green colour. Oh well.]

::Wesley stares at his green ankle, though he is pleasantly surprised that the random concoction happened to ease the pain in his ankle. He stands up, feeling some discomfort. He grins as he walks to the stove without his cane, limping a little.::

(I'll manage.)

::He scoops up the rest in a tupperware box and places it in the refrigerator. Wesley turns off the stove and decides to go practice his power some more because he can't sleep, so he wanders around town and heads to the pier with his spare notebook and writing utensils.::

::Wesley enters his apartment, locks the door, drops his stuff and falls asleep on the couch.::

::Wesley wakes up and returns to the door to pick up his ingredients, taking them to the kitchen. He starts up a pot of water, rips a sprig of one herb and the stem of others, tossing them into the water, which is approaching a rolling boil.

Wesley walks towards the refrigerator, opening it up briefly to obtain his healing salve. He returns to the stove, scoops up the ointment, dropping it into the pot. He waits for several minutes for the concoction to coagulate, writing down the ingredients he'd just used. When the concoction is ready, Wesley turns off the stove and allows it to cool.

He takes it to the couch and rubs it against his green ankle, trying to fully restore his ankle by taking out the green pigmentation resulting from his previous trial.::

[The greenness disappears but now you have no ankle at all. Sorry. There's a gap between the top of your foot and the beginning of your calf that's completely invisible. Yay.]

::Wesley gasps and frowns at his now-invisible ankle. He walks over to the kitchen and titles the sheet of paper "Invisible Gel". Wesley takes the stuff back to couch so that he can correct his current situation and watch his stories on his TV.::

::Wesley, having worked some more on the ointment all of this time, rubs it against his ankle again in an attempt to restore his ankle.::

[Yep.]

::Seeing his ankle reappear, Wesley grins to himself and writes down the appropriate ingredients before entitling the recipe "Healing Ointment". He puts the stuff away in a safe place and leaves his apartment for the hallway.::

::Wesley escorts Josie inside. He quickly writes a note and hands it to her.::

Go take a seat and watch TV.

::He walks to a table to pull out the stuff he just bought from the magic shop.::

::Josie, still shocked from what happened in the magic shop does what Wesley tells her to. But she doesn't watch the tv, she stares at her hands instead.::

"I had...claws..."

::Wesley nods to her as if this wasn't anything out of the ordinary, laying out the herbs in a certain way.::

"But how?"

::Josie stares at her hands a while longer then tries to make her claws come out. Nothing. She frowns.::

"And I felt so strange around that guy, like I was meant to punish him because he's done really bad things to people, but I don't even know him."

::She looks at Wesley, a tad panicky.::

"What's going on?!"

::Wesley writes down a note...::

I don't know why you do those things. I just know that you have powers and have no memory of them or about yourself.

::... folds it up into a paper airplane and throws it towards Josie.::

::Josieopens the airplane and reads it.::

"Powers? What are you on about?! You're playing jokes with me and it's not funny. I know I don't remember anything! Did you club me in the head and take advantage of me and that's why I don't remember anything?"

::She feels her head and nothing hurts so no, but still, panics.::

"What happened? Why can't I remember anything? Why would I have claws? I don't even know if I should trust you or not!"

::Josie wraps her arms around herself, she breathes hard and starts to hyperventilate oh and then she smokes out!.::

::Wesley sighs, shakes his head and continues with his work, realizing that he can't chase after Josie what with her teleporting away. He throws some herbs in a mortar per the instructions in the book he's using and grinds them with a pestle.::

::And back in the same place she was before. Josie jumps up and backs into a wall.::

"What just happened?! What's with all this smoke?"

::Wesley stops grinding the herbs and writes down another note reading "That's your power." He folds the notebook sheet into another paper airplane and throws to Josie.::

::Josie reads it, then sits there where she is and doesn't move. She's terrified.::

(That was fun!)

::or not.::

"That was fun! In a terrifying sorta way!"

::Wesley nods and continues to grind the herbs in the mortar.::

::Josie turns on the tv and sits watching quietly now with a dumb grin on her face.::

::Wesley throws more herbs into the vessel and grinds some more. When he's down, he walks into his bedroom, looking for cigars.::

::Josie lies on her stomach and flicks through the channels.::

::Wesley finds the cigars and takes it to the table, unraveling one of them.::

"Anything I can do to help?"

::Wesley throws in more herbs in the mortar and imitates grinding it with the pestle, demonstrating to Josie what he needs her to do.::

::Josie nods and goes over to do what Wesley showed her. She hums quietly to herself.::

::Wesley empties the contents of the cigar and walks away to look for a box of matches in the kitchen. Upon finding them, he looks to Josie, signaling her to stop with the grinding.::