There was something wrong with this potion, for sure, and unfortunately, Ezio had no idea what it was. Sure, he could cook up a perfect immortality potion (only after blowing himself into a wall repeatedly for two months), and a resurrection potion was a breeze (it still blew up), but whatever the heck was wrong with this one, Ezio didn't know. It was always the simpler things that escaped him. That was annoying, but it made sense all the same. He had his phone playing music, one earbud in, the other resting against his shirt, and he was trying to make a luck potion.
Finals were soon. To say he was stressing out was kind of making light of it. This was his last term, and he needed to pass. His goal was so close to being reached, he was almost an attorney, finally, it'd really suck to make it all the way here and then lose it. So he was brewing potions, studying a lot more than he should, and praying to whatever god was listening that he passed. Ezio had been working for it for a long time now. By this point, he wanted it because he'd gotten this far already, he may as well see it to the end.
A little hesitantly, Ezio dropped another pinch of dried herbs into the cauldron, and, as always it did, it suddenly flashed a bright white, and threw Ezio into the wall. Ezio slammed into it, hit the floor, and sighed, dropping his head onto the flooring repeatedly. Whyyyyy could his potions not fucking explode?! It was him. He was doing something wrong. No idea what, but something.