Name: Signed Hannele Auclair, the author of this recipe
Age: You'll need to measure out 31 ingredients total at minimum to properly boil this potion to completion.
Gender: Begin by shredding your herbs and dicing larger solid ingredients, until they all blur into an incomprehensible mix of something small enough to pinch and sprinkle. Clearly female at the start, but over time she's found she doesn't quite care how she's perceived. Doesn't matter to her - and so what if it matters to those whose business it isn't? She'll have their bones in a soup at some point regardless of what their thoughts on the matter are. So there.
Appearance: Add liquid ingredients, and blend into a smooth paste before boiling in two cups of spring water (one serving). Hannele is not an approachable individual. She is tall and slender, all sharp edges (except in the cheeks; those have always maintained a roundness) for five feet and ten inches. Her head is shaved down to a light buzz, enough to see the scalp, and she keeps it this way because hair is too much to maintain. She tends to wear black, and the light bit of makeup she chooses when she's in the mood is of the same color, more for a practical purpose rather than actual vanity.
Personality: Stir in mint and rosemary to taste - this is to distract from the taste of poison underneath. She's withdrawn, isolated, alone, and she prefers it this way. The focus can be on herself at all times, her own wants and needs, and she cannot be betrayed or turned on by someone she's close to (nor can she betray or turn on them). With the volatile nature of her work, it's better to minimize the collateral damage. As such, around strangers, her ability to socialize has been greatly stunted, and she's more standoffish than not. She is blunt, brief, and tends to say things as she's feeling in the moment, be it angry or upset or flippant. People don't interest her very much but when they do it tends to be with a vengeful streak. She's much better with the creatures that lurk in the background. They hit her soft spot.
History: Refer to any past recipes and tomes to add ingredients as desired. To sweeten the potion is to make it harder for your guests to realize it's anything more than a sugary drink - the better to pass it through their mouth and continue on unnoticed. Hannele is a nomad. She began in France, grew up through her childhood years tortured by her own aptitude for things like telekinesis and angst and being a menace to those closest to her. Spent quite a few long months, if not years, in the catacombs, memorizing each path and manipulating them as she went. Mostly she embraced darker magic, studying and practicing it, and if she accidentally got a tourist or passersby trapped, she used them in her studies, if you catch my drift. They never made it back to their families - not whole, anyways. Afterwards, she headed to North America, starting in Canada, and is now making her way down to Mexico. Idle, Arizona is simply a stop along the way, and the rest is a history she'd rather not reflect upon too much. The only road is the one ahead of her.
Activity: Let simmer for three hours. Longer, to draw out a more concentrated "flavor" to the magic. Her days in Idle are numbered. Still, she's adapted the room in the inn she's staying at to her needs: curtains drawn, surfaces cluttered with her various herbs and books and vials of unmentionable things, and a Do Not Disturb sign pasted to her doorknob. Sometimes, when long hot days of searching the surrounding area for more things to collect or more blood to cut from unsuspecting inhabitants, she visits the local bar. At day's end, she does what she must to take care of the horse that's taken her across several states now. It's the only creature that shares her views and demeanor, so she's willing to put in the extra care. It's a routine that won't last. (But she must admit, the tequila is good here.)
Oddity: Garnish as desired and serve. Toppings and dosage depend on whether your recipients are friend or foe. Well, you've read this far, haven't you? Put two and two together - doubtless you can use that little brain your mother gave you for something.
