Before the human female can fill up all the jars, she has to make the cocktail that goes in them. Behold, the sacred, secret recipe her Tech II has left:
This makes a little something called FAA–Formalin Acetic Acid. It’s toxic, carcinogenic, flammable, explosive —you name an unpleasant characteristic, and it has it. And someone trusts the human female to MAKE this?!
Since PPE (personal protective equipment) is incompatible with horns and messes up Sigyn’s hair, I’m just going to throw a protective spell around us while we are here. The human female is on her own.
She’s starting with the glacial acetic acid. Think of this as vinegar turned up to eleven. It’s so awful that it’s kept in the flammables locker
The mischief I could do with just one spark…
That’s the bottle she needs. That big one, there. The one too big to accurately pour from.
Next she’s adding the formalin. It’s a preservative, a watered-down formaldehyde, if you will, but it’s still very bad for humans.
It’s in an unwieldy container too. She plans to pour some into a beaker and pour from that into the graduated cylinder. Good plan. We’ll see if it works.
The last ingredient is the ethanol. This stuff is very flammable. And also explosive. And she has fifty liters of it. Leaving quickly and going for a walk outdoors is sounding better and better all the time.
Well, at least she has the carboy pushed back and the spigot not hanging over the edge of the bench (where someone walking by, might just happen to nudge it open a bit…)
What will she use to measure out the 2700 ml she needs?
Fenrir’s Fleacollar! Sigyn is trapped in glassware again! What is it with her?!
Oh, whew! She was just behind it. Sigyn, that is one TALL graduated cylinder. You fall in that one, and I’m not sure even I could fish you out.
So now all the ingredients are in this big beaker inside a running fume hood. Fume hoods are good. They keep chemicals from filling a room with nasty vapors.
I quite like the little tornado that the magnetic stirrer is making. I think I shall devise a spell to do the same thing in my morning grape juice. Juice with a tornado would be super cool, just the sort of thing one would expect the ruler of Midgard to have!
And that, light of my life, is our exit cue. In just a minute, the human female it going to try to pour neatly from this big beaker into a large carboy with a spigot. Then she will do this all twice more, to fill the carboy. Think she can do it without spilling?
Fortunately, I have the good folks at Eek! Hazards, Sickness, and Death on speed-dial.