Manifest Anima: Planes Divided IC

[Celaira]

The Senate Inerva University General Populace

• 
  Senate meetings in Ominar were, as many bureaucratic gatherings ended up being, equal parts utterly rapturous and dreadfully banal. There was something heady and intoxicating about them--being a part of what ostensibly were the fifty most powerful individuals in the world, sitting in decadent luxury, musing upon the fate of the world--and somehow so utterly boring. There was a pageantry to the events that could not be denied, but so much of the discussion ended up being entirely ordinary and dull. Who would be responsible, what would change, why things should or should not be--after the first time they simply became process. Rote in word and rote in memory--vote for your own interests, and vote against your opponents'--and that would be that until you were next summoned. Idle chatter and half-heard murmurs blanketed the chamber, a low drone ever-present in the background, that gently thrummed in intensity like the ebb and flow of a wave cascading through the air.
  
  At the head of the room a man sat, imperious gaze cast down over the rest of the chamber, his red eyes roving back and forth between each senator's face in turn. "Are we ready to begin?" The man's voice carried through the room effortlessly, its deep baritone notes commanding attention. The idle chatter drifting through the room immediately ceased, and the head of the senate waited for the day's issues to be raised by one or more of the other members.
  
  "Regarding the upcoming Statute 53 and its associated decrees, the Caligine Institute humbly requests an amendment: according to the regulations of the earlier Statute 47, Licentia are given human status for the purposes of economic qualification--they are subject to all of the same laws that a human or prae would be in terms of employment, wage, and taxation. We have considerable evidence suggesting that increasing this equality to social rights will end in prosperity. Indeed, there are Licentia on this very Senate that are integral to the operation and wellbeing of our city--why should we not offer them the same privileges that we take for granted when their participation is not inherently less than our own?"
  
  The voice of Witch-Queen Sofiya was, today, a clear and precise British one--each syllable enunciated and stressed in clear and dulcet tones that conveyed a sense of passion about this particular cause. Licentia were, she reasoned, just as important as anyone else. Their circumstances were often unique, but extending them the basic protections and liberties that others took for granted would earn them no small amount of goodwill--and goodwill was how the ruling elite maintained their position.
  
  "Seconded." Another voice, sweetly lilting and melodic, spoke out. Nabriales gave a vigorous nod accompanied by a broad smile to enunciate his agreement with the statement. He brought his hands together as if to clap, but the faintest flicker of red eyes upon him was enough to stop that particular urge before it happened and his hands moved to rest upon his seat instead. Though discouraged from that method of expression, his eyes lit up with multifarious hues and sparkled brightly as they surveyed the room.
  
  Across the chamber, far from any other Precursors, another voice rang out, clear and true, "Sustain," Illaerion said, agreeing with the prior two. He looked rather bored, elbow on surface before him, hand propping his head up as he leaned into his chair. These meetings were always so dull, but then...better he be here than his father. He turned his gaze across the room's occupants and in turn noticed another representative expressing their agreement, a certain Thris Narinel. The licentia was ostensibly the head of operations for Second Sun Analytics. Unlike the others, Thris did not speak, simply nodding as he made a gesture of agreement that the others would have become quite used to by now.
  
  Turning his attention elsewhere, Illaerion wondered who might move against this proclamation.
  
  A voice cut the low rumble of the crowd. A familiar sound to many of the Senate, the husky, low contralto of a respected business-owner.
  
  "I know it's becoming something trite to ask, but is this really even a question? Of course licentia deserve equal rights. We can sit here, long's we like, bitterly bantering to a similarly-flavored end, but we all know the truth. Sentience is and always has been the guiding line for personal rights."
  
  Peony Camaz. Sharp eyes staring down a sharper nose, her orb-like lenses glistening in the incandescent light. Before she could continue, something caught the corner of her eye--and, of course, the ears of the rest of the Senate.
  
  He could do nothing quietly.
  
  "I should certainly hope no one objects! It would certainly make things…"
  
  Hoshiaru's body--and presence--threatened to fill the entire room. A massive creature in and of himself, he was surprisingly well-groomed and contained during Senate proceedings. His stance shifted, and the senator to his right looked as if the man were about to eat him whole.
  
  "Uncomfortable for some of us." It was unclear whether he was speaking about licentia or merely the surrounding Senators, and it was certainly his character to never distinguish his thinly veiled threats from his off-handed commentary. His hand drifted up to the bullet hole in his cheekbone, rubbing it almost nostalgically.
  
  "Ah, but, my friend…" Spoke a honey-dipped German voice, sweeter than chocolate-covered strawberries and hot cocoa on a winter morning. Harli's interjection came from seemingly nowhere, as if a coquettish response to some inside joke between her and the oni taking up two chairs.
  
  "Have we even considered the implications of such a thing? There are social strata to consider. What the licentia lack in rights they gain in a certain… Camaraderie. And that closeness has not gone unnoticed by the rest of our civilian population, much as I'd like to think otherwise.
  
  Consider the outcry. Especially from the prae! Dear God, we'd never hear the end of it. I do not mean to expose some conflict of interest in myself--I've nothing but good things to say of my licentia contacts. You included, Mr. Ōmagatoki." Her smile widened, eyes half-lidded with content. "But I am a very well-traveled woman. There are so many conflicts that arise from merely granting rights to an oppressed party. There'll be riots. Backlash. Perhaps even a trending hashtag, God forbid."
  
  Harli pulled up the paper in front of her. Was she prepared for this? Perhaps, but the woman had a reputation for never bringing a knife to a gunfight.
  
  "I have here an annotated list of events. A plan, if you will, that I would ask you all to look over. I say we still grant the licentia their rights--" her eyes met Hoshiaru's once again, saying nothing and perhaps too many things, "--but over the course of perhaps a year or so. A slow, intentional burn. My assistant will provide the papers to you all momentarily." Harli gestured to the back rows, where a young, skittish woman had a whole sheaf of papers in her arms, chatting with what was supposed to be a senator, but looked rather more like a pimp.
  
  In moments, she was handing the entire stack over to him. "We aren't going to be doing that, Mizz--pardon, Doctor--Kobeltraupe." Smooth as silver.
  
  Kaidan "Pinks" Pendelton strode--as he always did--down the steps back to his seat, placing the papers in front of his superior, the Chalcedony. Geniveve's cyclopean countenance seemed to sneer.
  
  "Too much time, too many problems, way too much implementation. You want to have a bunch of licentia rioting outside the Senate doors? Because that's what you're gonna get with this half-measure nonsense. If any of you have reservations, I invite it, but this is a do or don't situation. Don't put a paper in front of my face unless it's to sign this into law." Pinks was ever the sensationalist, but he knew how to control a room.
  
  Witch-Queen Sofiya's eyes impassively darted amongst those who had just spoken and made their opinions known, giving little away and observing much. After her colleague finished his speech, the corner of her mouth twitched into the beginning of a smile beneath her mask and she stood up, arms outstretched, as she began to address the room:
  
  "We must present a united front either way--and allowing valuable citizens to spend more time than absolutely necessary as second class citizens for no justifiable reason cheapens us all. The prae can say what they want, but this city does not heed their wishes and nor should we. They will be curtailed, if necessary, as will all who stand in the way of progress--progress that the humans of this city are quite eager to see implemented, if the Caligine Institute's research is correct." she finished the sentence pointedly, looking directly at Harli, before seating herself. It was a matter of pride, of course, that her own organization would not produce erroneous information and simple diligence that she would not make decisions without the proper consideration. Those elected to the Senate were not, after all, known for mistakes.
  
  A curt nod came from the far end of the room, brief enough that it would not have been noticed had Sofiya's gesture not drawn attention to it. Teresa offered no words or clearly visible emotion, simply opening a notebook on her lap, tracing over a few words with an outstretched finger, and closing the book again with a faint snap that echoed in the silence for just a second. It was plenty enough to make clear her opinion on the matter, and her eyes turned to the sanguine orbs that presided over the floor.
  
  The head of the senate nodded in acknowledgement to each outcry on the floor. "Well then, let's put it to a vote, shall we?" After a moment's pause, he spoke again, his eyes shifting to look to his right. "Inerva, what say you?"
  
  The elderly woman who sat at the senate leader's right hand glanced first at him, and then pointedly around the room. Her eyes of glassy blue showing knowledge that few in the room would ever truly possess. "Aye."
  
  The man nodded, and then began to recite each senate member's name from memory, listening intently for their votes. This senate did not require a record keeper, for its magic was all the record it needed. Each vote ascended on the air, residing like small fluorescent lights in front of the senate leader's face though only he could see them, as per the rule of the enchantment. Red for nay, blue for aye. Seconds counted on, a single set of eyes darting back and forth between the flickering lights, until it all came to a stop.
  
  "The motion passes. We shall resume further discussion in our next meeting--you will all be informed when the date is decided. Until then, you are dismissed."
  
• 
  
  It was a fine day, fine indeed. Sunlight streaming through windows into a classroom that one might call something more like a conference or lecture hall. It was huge, with plenty of floor space, and a number of curved tiers with desks. The desks were filled with chattering students, first and second years mostly, all wondering what they were in for exactly. The air was practically dripping with tension.
  
  "Excitement, trepidation. Awe, wonder, fear, and a good wine," Reates said to himself quietly, a smile playing its way across his face, dancing in his eyes, curving his lips. He sat far afield and above the other students, plainly in a desk in the top right corner of the room...observing.
  
  He'd also accidentally fallen asleep...and had only woken up about 5 minutes ago. From the perspective of the students...he was now 10 minutes late. Some had left, but most had stayed, too intrigued with the rumors they'd heard of them...well, at least that kept many of the first years in their seats. The second years, on the other hand, were not so bound by curiosity. No, they weren't confused, but instead worried.
  
  You see, he had a reputation to uphold and any delay in the class typically meant he had something special planned and indeed he did.
  
  "Maybe he's not coming,"] he heard a first year utter.
  
  "I doubt that, he's only ever done that three times, and two of those times the room was sealed once we entered and we had to fight our way out through a magical gauntlet."
  
  "Wait, what, is that legal?"
  
  "Yeah...we checked after we got out. Turns out that was his exam."
  
  The first year looked mildly frightened, "Is...is that standard for his class?"
  
  The second year laughed, but it was full of nervous tension, "Nothing in his class is standard."
  
  As they spoke, Reates felt an idea rather suddenly eat him whole. Flipping out his phone with one hand he began texting with his thumb even as his other hand shifted through motions, formulating a spell matrix.
  
  After about 15 seconds he sent the message.
  
  

  "Eight-five-seven-three-oh-nine. Time's on the dime. Sans the shelves. Bring powder and a pen. Code Dragon."

  
  It was a Wednesday.
  
  That done, he continued through the spell matrix and, once his phone was safely in his pocket--teleported by the way--he started up with his other hand. Strangely, despite the sheer amount of talented magic users in the room, no one noticed that a spell was being cast.
  
  Though it would not be initially visible to the students, golden whorls of vis began to invisibly etch themselves into the marble flooring and climb up the walls like ivy climbing a trellis--shapes formed from lines, and then lines formed from the shapes--and then in a sudden explosion of colour and light the center of the room was filled with a plume of rainbow-coloured smoke that washed over the students' desks and the lecturer in the corner in equal measure. It hung in the air for a second, light and vis glinting through it, before it cleared and in the previously open stretch of space before them was an enormous dragon clad in iridescent scales of every hue and tone imaginable. The remaining wisps of smoke suddenly pulled themselves through the air, deep into the open maw of the creature, and with an almighty surge of vis a colossal conflagration coated in a corona of colour cascaded towards and over the students. The flames were cool to the touch, and though they lasted only for a few seconds the students would all notice themselves smelling curiously of both cinnamon and cloves as it dissipated, leaving nothing so much as a hair out of place.
  
  As the students looked forward, the air now clear, the dragon that had stood before them was gone--replaced by a beaming man who clapped his hands together in an outburst of joy and excitement. Without so much as a single movement, the screen behind him gave off a gentle glow as the numbers "857309" wrote themselves on the board, and below that the words "Runicography--an Introduction to Matrices" appeared as the horned individual spoke loudly and clearly in time to their appearance. As he finished, several students got to their feet. Several began to clap and hoot and howl with excitement, and several others turned to leave--only to find that the doors would not budge so much as an inch and that no magic on the face of the earth would extricate them from the premises.
  
  "I forgot shelves!" the lecturer shouted, gasping as the realisation hit him, before raising his hand up in front of his face so that a phone could appear in it and he could look at it. Then, after a second, he took a deep breath and released it slowly before turning to the class and returning the phone from whence it came. He had not in fact forgotten shelves, and though the first year students would no doubt be very confused, anyone who had ever taken a class from Nabriales would know very well that this sort of incident was commonplace.
  
  "I have arrived in a timely fashion… wait, no, in dragon!"
  
  Reates smiled, still working his matrices as the events transpired. 'Even more grand than I imagined, always exceeding expectations Nabri!' he sent through the waves, an impression in the wind, from one mind to another.
  
  "In-DEEED," roared an explosion of sound from the corner as color swirled and boomed from Reates, forming the silhouette, then the textured form of a serpentine behemoth, twining its way throughout the room, between and above students. One poor man ended up pinned beneath its clawed foreleg.
  
  "Welcome to our class, a joint class never to be for-GOTTEN," the voice boomed, enhanced and modified by the spell. Reates himself remained utterly undetectable as he strolled between students, occasionally poking or brushing against someone in time with the flowing whiskers of the glamourous beast.
  
  Quite casually, the invisible inadvertently inane instructor made his way to the front, where he took his place beside Nabri, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.
  
  "Glad you could make it. This would have been horribly inconceivable otherwise," he said with a grin, his emerald eyes shining with glee. Then, turning back to the students, some in a panic, and others who were outright freaking out, Reates snapped his fingers.
  
  The dragon vanished, dispersing into vis and, curiously, a group of iridescent butterflies, which flitted about and occasionally lit on a student.
  
  One poor sod, crying rather shamefully, exclaimed "I was just curious, I swear I didn't mean any harm. Dooon't put me through a gauntlet," eliciting a bit of guilt in Reates' chest. He leaned in towards Nabri, "Mate, would ye mind solving that one with a well placed potion toss?"
  
  With a well-practiced flick of his wrist, Nabri teleported the blubbering student up to the lectern he was standing at and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, rubbing it gently as he offered his other to the student, outstretched and now graced by a small phial filled with a tincture of rosy red. The student stifled a sniffle and drunk it down in a single gulp, the colour returning to his cheeks and his breathing shallowing almost immediately.
  
  "What's your name and specialty?" He asked quietly, using the arm that had just held the potion to gesture to the other students in the lecture hall.
  
  "I'm Billy, I specialise in Hieroturgy..." the young man replied, and as he finished Nabri gave him a nod before teleporting him back to the seat he'd chosen earlier. As soon as he arrived the students nearby immediately leaned in, chattering away with questions and offering words of comfort, before Nabri raised his voice and turned to address the gathering of students. He cleared his throat to get their attention, before placing a hand on Reates' shoulder and magically amplifying his voice to reach everyone:
  
  "I'm Nabriales and this is my colleague Reates, and you are all in the mandatory Runicography introduction. The little stunt that I just pulled was a combination of a standard runic array and the translated spell matrix of a potion to transform me into a dragon--can any of you tell me how many vectors, at a minimum, the conjoinment index requires in order to overlay the spell pattern of an existing form of magic into a standard runic matrix capable of performing spellcraft via external vis conduits?" He asked, awaiting an answer from the audience. There were a few hands raised, some more tentatively than others, and Nabri let himself chuckle a little under his breath. He took a step back, allowing Reates to step forward and take the floor for himself. This was usually how the two of them began classes--one of them issued a fiendishly complex challenge (though this was quite simple, really, thanks to being the opening of an introductory class) and the other determined who among those that dared to answer was capable of withstanding their combined scrutiny. It could end up being quite distressing, for that one student, but it normally left the others absolutely floored by the depth of the discussion. This was, after all, Inerva University: brilliance was its reputation.
  
  In that vein, Reates decided on a further demonstration. The decision was a sudden one, so sudden in fact that as he was halfway through stepping forwards, the floor glowed in an expanding pattern, and he vanished only to reappear beside a young lady halfway up the tiers of the hall.
  
  She squealed as he gently placed a hand on her desk. "Alyssa, you had your hand raised, mind sharing?"
  
  Shrinking under the glowing gazed professor's attention, the woman cleared her throat, once, twice, three times before she managed to utter a single syllable only for Reates to cut in.
  
  "Don't worry lass, it's just the introduction," he beamed at her companionably and patted her hand lightly before the floor glowed and he reappeared by Nabri.
  
  Alyssa breathed out a sigh of relief, found her courage, and spoke up, "I...I believe the number of vectors required in the conjoining index is roughly ten, but it depends on the complexity of the spell. Are...are you asking for the minimum amount or the one specific to your spell..." she paused, then realized she'd forgotten to say... "...p-professor?"
  
  Quietly, Reates chuckled.
  
  Nabri let out a hearty laugh at the response after Alyssa had asked "p-professor?", and drew some vis into his fingertips in order to draw a diagram that she could actually visualise.
  
  "I asked for the minimum number possible for any spell--and ten is not that number!" He stated, still bouncy and vivacious in his tone, as he began to draw a diagram in the air. While it was not initially large, as his fingers traced the pattern it grew larger and larger, until everyone in the room had a clear view of it. After he finished, he appeared to the left side of it and pointed at several spots on the map which became ringed with the same rainbow pattern as the dragon's scales earlier.
  
  "The minimum number of vectors in the conjoinment index to write any given spell as a matrix relying on external vis conduits can be demonstrated quite simply--the correct answer is seven."
  
  As he continued to speak, he explained the subject thoroughly by beginning with the fundamentals and gradually building on that explanation, switching to allow Reates to speak whenever the difficulty level increased significantly. The remainder of the class proceeded in much the same fashion--with Nabri explaining fundamental concepts and elaborating on the magical superstructures that were introduced, and Reates going off on sprawling tangents about the aspects of the new topics that they introduced. Though the conversation was, initially, quite meticulous and planned (thanks to an extensive effort between the two professors) as the more complex facets of the explanation were introduced the two began spending more and more time explaining things and bantering amongst each other that were not strictly related to the topic at hand--but the conversation was so engaging that almost all of the students were utterly rapt in the magical revelations that were laid out before them.
  
  After three and a half hours (the introduction was originally planned to last thirty minutes), and the initial point was finally reached, Nabri stepped forwards and addressed the students.
  
  "... and that is why seven is the minimum required number!"
  
  Though the reaction was not quite as intense as the introduction had been, the room left in uproarious laughter and cheer as the doors unsealed themselves and swung open. Many students rose as if to leave, but before they could actually move Nabri spoke again.
  
  "First years are required to attend this class and do not have to sign up--but second years may indicate their interest in taking this class at the lectern here. Before you do so, are there any questions?" he asked, surveying the room briefly before turning to Reates to check if he had any questions. It was clear that the two of them had an... unorthodox relationship, but that quickly fell to the wayside before their combined expertise--and that was something that many students simply would not pass up.
  
  At least, not without questions.
  
• 
  An Hour After the Senate Meeting...
  
  "And we're live, people!" Announced the director with a flick of his wrist, jabbing a finger at the photogenic young thing behind the newsdesk. Her blonde hair flowed in shallow trusses, hazel eyes fixed on the magitech camera that floated a few feet away from her. The broadcast room was all a-hustle and a-bustle, with lighting crew flitting this way and that. An illusionist sat on standby with their reference images and cues firmly clasped to their clipboard, ready to fire off an image or four as the broadcast demanded.
  
  "I," she began, soft, well-enunciated timbre filling the room, "am Amity Wayleigh, and this is the Ominar Morning Electromagic News. Hello and good morning to everyone out there, especially our licentia audience. You've all waited so long for this senate decision, and I'm pleased to be the first to announce that in a staggering 42-8 vote, licentia are to be officially granted all clemencies and rights associated with Ominar citizenship. This is a proud day for the licentia civil rights movement, Flux Populi, and for our fair nation as a whole. All of us here at OMEN are proud supporters of our licentia population, and hope to see them flourish in the coming months as they're granted the freedoms they should've had for years."
  
  Amity's well-formed face fashioned a wonderful plastic smile.
  
  "Now, we have some messages to our station here that we're going to read off live--and I'd like to thank our illusionist, Marlon Abbensborough, for being here at the studio today to conjure these up. Marlon?"
  
  On cue, Marlon, the illusionist, gave a wave of his fingers and--as if from the ether itself--a clipping of a social media status popped just to the right of Amity.
  
  "Ipuprofen32 said 'Congrats! My girlfriend and I are on holiday in Solhavre right now, but we can't wait to come back to our hometown in light of all of this.' Hope you enjoy the sunshine, Ipuprofen32! We'll be happy to have you back.
  
  Seasonsyeetings said--what--no, we can't say that on TV! Bleep it out! Oh my god!" Marlon's magic quickly covered up a particularly offensive message targeted at 'big booty mir'aj girls' which would, of course, live on in infamy for the rest of the newstation's days.
  
  "A-anyway, moving on, fredfredburger sent…"
  

 

[Luma]

Tick, tick, tick...

A generously-sized clock on the wall reminded everyone in the room that the teacher was now late by a few seconds... and then a few more. Seated on one of the side desks towards the front was a diminutive girl with bright purple hair: Sonia Seraphina, easily the most bored person in the class. While others waited with eager anticipation, her's was more irritation.

"Honestly, how long are we going to wait for tardy professors..." she muttered to herself as if trying to win back the part of her that wanted to leave. Ultimately though, she stayed seated. Runicography had a lot of practical uses, and despite the sometimes ludicrous time-sink, it was an opportunity she couldn't afford to lose.

Sonia shifted in her seat. She stretched out her arms like a cat. She casually began to transmute doodles into the desk with her finger, restoring it afterwards with a sweep of her hand. Glancing up at the clock, she sighed in anguish. That was long enough; she'd been more than generous. Time she left to research a few things on her own..

Just as Sonia had risen from her seat, however, the classroom literally exploded out into action, prompting her to sit back down indignantly. "Finally," she whispered, watching the display. Runicography-- or rather, this class --was definitely living up to expectations, and continued to do so…

...for a very long time.

...a very, very long time.

Two hours in and Sonia's chin was resting gently on the desk. At least Nabriales was something nice to stare at amidst the barrage of information that was either 'theoretical' or covered last year. Maybe some of the students were impressed by this whole 'potential meaning of life' stuff, but what practical uses did this have? In fact, how were they even on this topic?! Wasn't this Runicography?!

…

Was she glaring? Maybe she was glaring. Maybe… just maybe... she wanted to smack the two of them for keeping her captive three and a half hours! Standing from her desk to head for the exit, she paused as she passed the two teachers, turning to them and opening her mouth to say something. Just a few choice words…

"Thank you for your time, professors," Sonia concluded politely, leaving the room. She couldn't hold back murmuring to herself shortly after as she wandered the hallways, "I should've said it… given them a piece of my mind; and jeez, now I'm practically starving." Pulling her phone out of her pocket, Sonia gazed at the screen, flipping through menus and watching the text scrawl into existence as fast as she could think up the words to say.

Group Chat: Sophia Seraphina, Skye Seraphina, Sonia Seraphina​

Are either of you hungry?

I'm about to eat if you'd like to join me for a bit.

 

[Ehb]

Letting out a satisfied sigh. She pushed her purple fringes away from her eyes. She gave a warm smile to her partner. Player one only gave a wink.

"Round two?" He asked, smiling.

"Really? You running a potion on yourself to keep going?"

He shook his head.

"Nah. Simpler reason." He leaned up from where he lay.
"I'd say that we're just one more round away from making this the best day ever. C'mon."

She chuckled as he leaned in closer to him in return.

"Kay' long as you don't embarrass yourself, I can go again. I Didn't have anything planned today."
"Let's do some stupid stuff together then, yes?"


Buuuuur
But, a very inconvenient and intruding silenced phone buzz drew the two's attention away.

"Yours or mine?"
"Yours Sophia. Mine's on silent."

The young woman over to dig for it in the covers.

"...Like it's supposed be, by the way." He insinuated.
"Oh shut up. With suppliers and junk little things like this are potentially important. Now, where in the hell is that pho... Ah. There we go."

Digging it out of the covers. The young woman illuminated her face with her phone's preview screen.
A new message it seemed. A quick glance....

...and She tossed her phone back onto the bed in a disinterested fashion.


"Spam? Or was it an important business call?"
"Closer to spam."
"Happens when you use your personal phone for your business card number. We can cross dimensions in yet we can't stop some assholes with a call list. Shame."
"Yeah. But anyway, gotta head out. Looks like something just came up."

A sad look of disheartening appeared on the man's face as he watched her tie back her hair and slide off the side of the bed.

"...Really? You said it was spam."
"Yup, spam. I'm gonna use your shower."
"R-round two?"
"No. No round two."

---

"A-anyway, moving on, fredfredburger sent…"

Sophia shut the door behind her. Cutting off the news broadcast.

Being able to go from zero to prepared in about thirty minutes was one of Sophia Seraphine's special hidden talents. She walked out the door looking like someone ready for a Sunday stroll... all the way back in the 1800s mind you. Bedhead to groomed. Ruffly to refined. She was dressed in plain clothing. Looking like someone out to go to the corner store. Somehow she pulled off even this plain look stylishly. Whether a plain store or a nightclub she looked ready to go at it.

She didn't use Glamor magic despite being a practicing mage.

Getting oneself from ravaged to pristine without the use of glamour was a bit of a tough proposition in such a time-frame. However, this young woman was still well aware that she still had a few radiant and prime years ahead of her in the looks department. Yes, hard work and persistence was certainly much more admirable than taking such shortcuts like Glamor Magic! But really at the end of the day it was just that such magic was unnecessary for someone who was still young like her.


Today, the outside temperature was generally perfect. Like pretty much everyday in Ominar. In the city where mages and otherworldly beings were free to be, such things as staves, clanking potion bottles, and other 'occult' artifacts being carried by wizard and alien alike were about as common as soda bottles and old people.

Things that were super exciting were commonplace here in the island metropolis. It was the norm. And as with anything that was the norm, it generally could get mundane. So by extension, the normal in this abnormal place could get boring.

So much so that people had to turn to things of pleasure like Hallucinogenic Potions, Fisstech, or Bizarre and ethically questionable hobbies.

But even for Sophia her pastime was generally mundane as well. There was nothing amazing about having a smoking habit. Sleeping with people also wasn't much more amazing either. At least Sophia could turn one of those vices into a bit of dignity by using a pipe to look classy. Still, the whole long-term ruining her lungs thing didn't sound too good. Maybe she should start using the Juice that was catching on with the kids these days? At least that was a slight improvement over literally sending clouds of tar into her respiratory system.


People could judge vices all they want. But, there were certain complications that would arise from bringing any boyfriend back to the shop, and having them discover the sibling-hood. That was where people started getting ideas. Like having multiplayer rather than versus. With her adorable sisters Sonia and Skye that was a big, BIG, Nono.

So illicit relationships it was. Normal, do but don't tell relationships. Sophia could at least still look like a model citizen that way since it was generally kept under wraps. When things got out of hand, magic offered a multitude of solutions. Yay magic!



All in all, Sophia Seraphine most certainly had nothing to complain about in a world like this.
With her shop she was finally financially stable. She was able to support her little sisters and chase after all her vices in her free time to her heart's content. But really though, today was a bit abnormal. Since it was her birthday she decided to let loose a bit instead of the same old regimen of train here and study there.

She didn't get any kind of birthday greetings from Skye or Sonia though. But that was okay. They were probably just so busy with their schoolwork and training. Having a quick lunch with them was something that Sophia really wanted. Not just something her body was craving for. Though maybe a Blueberry Parfait might get her and her body into an agreement with each other.


Today was her birthday. Yup. What did she even have to show for it? Business owner? A nice title, but that was it. She could go penniless if something went wrong. Even though she was comfortable and fine. Somehow, all of this still... sucked. The now - this now, somehow left a bad taste in her mouth. She still didn't like the kind of adult she had grown into.

If the young honor student would look at her now, would they be embarrassed and ashamed at the things she's had to do in order to make all of this work? Or would she be mad at all of the promised things of their life being... substituted with this mundane life? Probably, her past self would be disappointed in her. Very disappointed indeed.

Still, there wasn't much point to mull over such things. That was pretty much depression on the horizon. Sophia still had to be a functional member of society... and a competent business owner in order to affirm her life wasn't a waste, and take care of her sisters who were still trying to find themselves. At least she could give them that chance.

But when was it going to end? What was the point she could look back and say to herself: You did it. Yeah! Totes worth it!

The day Sonia and Skye ultimately walk out onto their own lives... what would she be left with? Would she only realize then that the choice she made was wrong?



The young woman, broke her deep thought and blinked.

"...Oh right. I never messaged you back, huh?" Sophia brought her phone back out. She composed a reply to the Seraphine family group text.
She spoke into the speaker.

"Sorry it took so long. I'm down for anything. Just say when and where."

The phone plinked in confirmation and sent the message.

"Text to speech is awesome~!"

 

[Karyra]

Skye decided to sit at the beach. Her shoes kicked off, and stretched out in the sand, she was content. She'd even let her purple hair down, which was a mistake because later she'd be dealing with sand in her hair and Sophia would ask what she was doing. Maybe she wouldn't because Sophia seemed occupied lately. Skye figured that it was because Sophia's birthday coming up. Which was part of why she was playing hooky from school today. She needed a bit extra cash and had done a super quick and easy job for some guy. Mundies really liked magic, didn't they? She just did a birthday party for some kid.

Now she needed to figure out what Sophia wanted for her birthday that was worth sixty dollars. Skye might as well as the sun for what it wanted for its birthday. Just giving the cash or cards really wasn't the message she wanted to give Sophia.

Maybe she could buy some new yukata for her Japanophile sister? Sophia could always enchant it later if she wanted. Then what color? Not cyan, definitely. She had enough of that color. Maybe purple? That could work. Skye knew a place she could probably go and buy a yukata like that. If only Skye could enchant the yukata like the others that Sophia owned... then she wouldn't foist more work onto Sophia, like usual.

Skye sighed as she looked up the clouds hovering around the beach, drifting carelessly. She wished they weren't so immune to the despair that she was rapidly falling into. "I don't know how to do anything without causing Sophia or Sonia to worry..." Skye reached up to touch her eyepatch, which was all her fault, too.

She sat up to look at the ocean. It stretched on for miles and miles and was almost as infinite as the future, or the number of gifts she could give Sophia. However, she didn't find a better answer there, either. Skye grumbled and flopped back down onto the sand. Skye quietly pulled out the photo from her pocket, trying to look at her parent's faces past the big black x on their faces. "You guys would know what Sophia would want better than me. You were our parents, and parents usually just know these things. I can't compete with that, and neither can Sonia or Sophia."

Her phone buzzed, and Skye was grateful for the distraction. It was Sonia texting for lunch with the rest of the sisters. Hmm.

Yeah I'll join you. Like Sophia said, where and when? If you're not decided, I could go for a burger! :D Skye replied.

Skye started the process of dusting herself off. She wasn't that far from Inerva University, so unless Sonia picked somewhere super far away, Skye could probably have time to window shop as she walked to the restaurant that Sonia chose. Maybe she'd settle for the yukata idea, unless something else jumped out to yell that it was the perfect gift.

Yeah, right. She'd probably walk the whole city and still not find the right gift for her enigmatic oldest sister. Sonia was easy. Magic text books. Sophia always seemed to require some kind of perfect gift as a thank you for raising them, and for helping Skye train. And there was no such thing as the perfect gift, Skye figured.

---

Kiran woke up that morning, tossing off the mess of blankets that his bed had become. He should do something about that, but he didn't really want to, either. It was perfectly workable, and he'd have to replace the darned bed in time anyway. He reached for his glasses, missing them a few times with his reaching fingers. It was still early, but since the pub didn't open until lunch -which was sometime around 11- he could whip up a quick breakfast and relax.

He quickly changed and prepared to head downstairs. The pub was as it had been last night, clean and tidy. How a man could be so two-faced that his business was neat and tidy but his living area being so littered with laundry and trash was beyond most people. Kiran preferred the excuse that he was tired after work and practically fell asleep where he stood every night. Which wasn't untrue, but at the same time the truth was closer to that of his own petty laziness.

He moved to the kitchen, which was set behind the bar, and separated from patrons by shelves of good alcohol. The kitchen was clean and up to date, which Kiran loved. Almost 400 years old and he would sooner sever a limb than separate from his grill or microwave. Kiran grabbed the apron hanging by the door, putting it on. He quickly pulled out ingredients for a breakfast croissant sandwich, putting eggs, swiss, mayo, and lettuce together into it. After he was done, he grabbed a glass of orange juice from the fridge and set out his meal for the day, only to realize that he was short on a few critical groceries like butter and potatoes. He'd probably have to go out after breakfast to grab some.

He moved out to the bar, placing his food down and creating to portal to the vault where he kept the remote away from rowdy patrons. He clicked one of the two TVs over the bar on to the news.

"-in a staggering 42-8 vote, licentia are to be officially granted all clemencies and rights associated with Ominar citizenship. This is a proud day for the licentia civil rights movement, Flux Populi, and for our fair nation as a whole. All of us here at OMEN are proud supporters of our licentia population, and hope to see them flourish in the coming months as they're granted the freedoms they should've had for years."

"Hmm. Good for them." Kiran said. He really didn't care about these civil rights movements, but if they became citizens today he'd probably get swamped with licentia today. Celebrating was hungry business, which meant he really couldn't put off the groceries. He quickly ate, washed his dishes, and hung the apron back up where he'd gotten it from.

He quickly wrote down a list of what he needed, running a quick inventory of his kitchen, and then walked out the door. He really hoped today would be a quiet shopping trip, as he should get back quickly. He could teleport, but then he'd just be showing off, and walking was healthier besides.

At least the weather was nice.

 

[CorrosiveCherry]

The din of the broadcast station kicked, whickered, pitched, and roared. The thrumble-rumble hustle-bustle faded into a staccato of footsteps harmonized by a hundred little fugues of conversation. Interns flitted hither and yon, the rustle-tap-tap-tap of papers and dress shoes sweetly tinn--

"Yuka. Yuka. Yuka, oh my god, are you high again?" asked a close cohort of the fox-formed femme, who had, up until that point, been standing completely still, a magitech console screen floating in front of her. A whisper of something old--much older than anyone present--snapped Yuka back to reality, reminding her that she did, in fact, need to keep the entirety of her shit together.

Yuka was not high. Yuka was, however, hungover.

"Yuka is not high. Yuka is, however, hungover. Yuka also wishes that she would stop speaking in the third person whenever she's being sarcastic, but we can't always get what we want. This is the last time they call me in for an OMEN segment. Are you fucking kidding me? Who gets up at 8? I haven't been up at eight o'clock since..." Yuka didn't actually trail off, but rather, swapped into Mandarin Chinese to finish it all off with something completely unintelligent--and invariably insulting.

"Sorry. Jesus. I'm tired and cranky. How're you holding up, Snay?" Her heavily-lidded eyes batted away the dregs of her irascible mood, locking with Cissnei's. Cissnei Cselke had been a friend to Yuka ever since she showed up on OBN's doorstep, looking for a job. Together, Yuka pushed her to move up from receptionist to camera crew, owing much to Cissnei's grasp of magitech. She'd always been a little timid, but something about the scrappy, sharp-tongued little gumiho brought out the best in her.

"Yikes! I was wondering when I'd be a part of the conversation. I--" "aw, fuck" Cissnei hadn't even managed to get the words out before their mutual enemy, Amity Wayleigh, arrived on the scene. Amity was a wonderfully attractive woman, but she had the propensity to be a bit of a bitch. Not that anyone had ever told her that.

"Cselke. Noroimiya. Why were you late to set today? Noroimiya, you were supposed to pre-screen those statuses. Do you realize what a problem you just created for me? Has anyone told you that you're a bit thick, or is this all news to you?" Amity wasted no time in laying into Yuka--it was a common thing.

"Has anyone told you that you're a wonderfully attractive woman, but you have the propensity to be a bit of a bitch?" Yuka had been waiting to use that line. She would've been lying if she said that she didn't have a bit of a thing for Amity's bent for short skirts, but her legs did not make up for the bilious nonsense that she so often spewed.

"I checked the statuses. You know I always do. Have you considered the possibility that Marlon has that weird molester mustache for a reason? And, perhaps, he is kind of a weirdo, as most of our illusionists have been for the past fucking--what--six months? We've gone through like four. You know I do good work." Yuka's expression stayed flippant, but level. Cissnei hadn't spoken a word, but she had attempted at least three noises that could be construed as a yelp.

"You and the mute are on thin ice, Noroimiya. You already know that. You can't be wearing all that jewelry without it getting in the way, and both producers have told you as much. And you--" Amity's eyes flitted over to Cissnei, who was almost crying. Perhaps actually already crying.

"You need to learn to speak up and quit hiding behind this reprobate," "nice. someone kick your ass at scrabble?" "Or I'll have your asses on a platter. Got a smart remark for that one, Noroimiya?"

"Of course I do! You'd be insulted if I didn't. I'm going to go with 'yeah, that'd make three of us who've been bare-assed on someone's table. That what you're looking for?" Yuka's arms crossed, her hip jutting out--she was all sass at that point.


"I swear to god, I'll get you fired one day, Yuka." Amity's rage was toothless, and Yuka knew that. This had been an ongoing thing, and Yuka had long since been holding onto little nuggets of information that kept her out of the crosshairs--but the two would always be locked in the world's cattiest combat.


"Awww, first name basis! Where I come from, that's pretty intimate, there, honey. Am I finally growing on you?" Yuka gave Amity the most obnoxious grin in existence, ineffable and vile like the deepest pits of hell.


"Like a tumor." "ha! nice." Amity scoffed and strode off, the clack of her heels fading into the near distance.

The moment Amity was out of earshot, Yuka clapped her hands together and let out a sharp, short cackle. Cissnei had, in the past few minutes, managed to die where she was standing, face contorted in her final dying throes.

"Well, that was fun. You want to go get some coffee?" Yuka's tone turned suddenly sweet and innocent as she wrapped an arm around Cissnei, who let out a small yelp of relief.

Cissnei's secret skill was yelping in a variety of emotions, and it was one that she put into practice nearly every day.

"I--yeah. U-um. Yeah, that's--that--that sound-sounds good. Sure. L-let's do that." Cissnei looked like a fish out of water. Which, considering her licentia heritage, could have been seen as a racist remark. A pretty little thing, her bright orange hair looked like fire against her pale, pastel blue skin, freckled in deeper navies and framed by fat, rectangular glasses. Her purple irises hadn't stopped quivering, and though she stood a good two heads above Yuka, she looked positively tiny at the moment.

"Jeez. You look like a fish out of water."

"That's--" Cissnei's shock turned into a smile. Yuka knew just how to snap her out of her reverie. "That's racist, you ass. You're paying for coffee."

"Like either of us can afford it!" The two giggled at the remark, and their lively chatter returned. Today, it seemed, was going to be a good day. Yuka's phantoms hadn't bothered her all day--save for a few instances here and there--and her hangover had mostly passed after her altercation with Amity.

And so, the fish and the fox strolled out of OBN's front doors, free to spend the day's hours as they pleased--the one benefit of working such an early shift.

 

[A Lowly Wretch]

Beep! Beep! Beep! Be-

A hand lazily slapped at the digital alarm clock ringing in his ear, fumbling a couple whacks before finally hitting the snooze button and ending the ceaseless chorus of electronic beeping.

Just another morning for Howell. Against a strong inclination he chose to rise up from beneath the covers, yawning deeply. He was well ready to sleep all the way to dusk but his job needed him by one so here he was, up by noon and ready to tackle yet another day of driving about town dropping off packages. Wasn't the most physically intensive work ever but the pay was pretty much as minimum as the law would let his boss get away with and his hours were pretty much garbage. His shifts were pretty much whatever hours the senior employees didn't want to take leaving him with night shifts backed up against noon shifts leaving him about a cool four hours of sleep before he needed to be out to work again. Pretty much the only positive was that he got at least three days a week off because that's the bare minimum they needed to offer him. Lord forgive if they were to accidentally give employees more money than they were strictly required to.

Luckily for him his rent was just cheap enough to afford on a paycheck like his. Maybe not that and hot running water but it kept a roof over his head no less. He rose cumbersomely from his bed, his bare feet sticking to the filthy carpeting. Howell wasn't the most filthy resident in this worn out crack den of a building but given how it was less expensive for the people who built it to throw some cheap carpeting on the floor instead of laminated wood or tiling it was a pain and a half to even bother cleaning. It wasn't like the roaches and mice that lived in the walls made that job any easier. He already had a hard enough time working his current job while hunting for a second one to pick up just so he could stay on top of bills for once in his life.

Walking across to his bathroom, the odd crunch and snap beneath his feat of things he'd much rather not dwell on, he pickup up his tooth brush from an old plastic coffee cup he's been reusing for the greater half of the year now and spread some tooth paste across it. He figured it'd be fine if he didn't have hot water for stuff like this. Upon turning the handle for the cold water however to his disgruntlement a foul brownish sludge poured from the tap, the stuff halfway mixed in the water that dribbled from the faucet. Through the dark rings under his eyelids he looked down at it all. I'd say he frowned but that'd imply he wasn't frowning from the moment he woke up. As it stood he simply dumped his brush back in it's cup, turned the filthy faucet back off and grabbed the mouth wash instead. It was a fine substitute for brushing his teeth on days when even water was too much a luxury for this hole he called his residence. He'd have to complain to the land lord about it but any time not spent discussing this month's rent for him was time well spent.


Out from that sordid mess into his more generalized mess he went over to his laundry pile and dug out his work clothes. There was no time for breakfast nor did he really have anything in the fridge that would qualify as food in the strictest sense. A box of soda and a couple expired condiments hardly made for meal of any sort. The only thing that really counted was the box of saltines that was sitting atop his fridge and those weren't exactly food to run a whole day on. It looked like yet another day of his usual breakfast: Coffee and a cheap egg sandwich from the local coffee shop.

Dressing up he gathered up his things: Phone, wallet, vis blade and handgun. He had sewn extensions into his pants pockets so he could fit his weapons in them and keep them out of sight. He wasn't packing heat just so he could get harassed by cops more than he was normally. He carried about two to three magazines on him plus one in the gun itself. That might seem a bit much for a basic delivery guy but given the neighborhood he had to go to and from work in a little extra heat was just the thing to keep by his side should his luck keep it's unfaltering stride in terrible-ness. After all, in a city run by mages most street punks looking to start something either rocked hard magitech or were some sort of messed up breed of Licentia. If there was one thing certain it's that Howell knew there was nothing he could realistically be packing that could trump half the crap all these gifted wizard and ancient monster whack-jobs roaming the underbelly were hefting. His weapons weren't for cutting his way to the top, they were to cut down the chaff, the punks just looking for any chump with the poor sense to walk into the wrong neighborhood without a means of defending oneself.

Now that he had his stuff he was as ready to get out there and tackle the world as he'd ever be. That is to say not but it was adult to at least fake it until no one could tell the difference. Opening the door he was met with the customary haze that permeated the air in this place. It wasn't any good in his room but outside it was much worse. Just a door down against a wall an older fellow in a ratty brown coat and old jeans laid passed out against the brick wall, a smoked cath pipe loosely clutched in his hand. Shutting and locking the door behind him he just walked on over the guy, striding over the splayed out legs as he went on down to the staircases where he descended to the ground floor. The dim flickering lighting made it tempting to want to use the handrails but given how well they were bolted on he'd just take his chances going down the stairs hands free rather than try and use that death trap.


Now out of the building he began down the street along the sidewalk, idly walking on down to the bus stop. All around him the poverty of this side of town was all too evident, a stark contrast to the gleaming modern towers that cast their long reaching shadows over these downtrodden neighborhoods. Brick stores and apartments caked in graffiti and advertisements, both aggressively trying to cover one another, lined the street sides all the way down. The amount of trash littering the sidewalks was easily greater than the number of pedestrians using them. Given how pretty much all the trash cans set out were repurposed to hold fires for those worse off than even Howell the only place people really left their trash were in dumpsters or on the street sides. All of it was a stark reminder that in humanities pursuit of magic those who couldn't afford such niceties were left to fight over the scraps off the rich's dinner tables like so many street dogs.

There he stood, glaring out into the urban decay almost lost in a daze of introspection and sleep deprivation. He was suddenly stirred out of his half-trance when a bizarre humanoid figure addressed him from the corner of his eye.

"Heyyy, Howell buddy! How's it hangin'?" Greeted this unfortunate licentian acquaintance of his from beneath it's hood.

"Same as usual Tapper." He answered back flatly, too tired to express himself beyond a monotone. Tapper was one of the local street pushers, an annoying little guy who always buddied up to anyone and everyone.

"Good to hear man! I'm livin' it up myself. 'Ya hear the news? Licentia are gonna be full citizens 'n shit. The big wigs voted it up and everything so it's official like."

"Good to hear." Howell never really was one to tune into the news outside of looking up the weather and traffic reports on his phone. Even online he was more the sort to keep to himself, rarely mixing himself up in gossip or political discourse. He didn't really pay much mind to it but this wasn't a topic the guy would bring up out of nowhere just to lie about. Tapper was usually full of crap when it came to his business but he was no compulsive liar.


"Sayyy I got a real banger of a party roarin' up this Saturday. It's gonna be lit, everybody's gonna be there!" Tapper boasted in his usual high energy fast loose mannerism.

"Neat." He could not be any less interested in attending this party if he hadn't even heard it existed. Even after only just hearing of it he was certain he wanted nothing to do with this other than put it from his thoughts entirely. He was also fairly sure that Tapper was talking this little event of his up so much to call it an exaggeration would be an egregious understatement.

"Whaddya say? Party girls, drinks, some sick music and plenty of the good stuff eh? Eh?" Tapper subtly not-so-subtly tried to rope Howell into this party he was planning.

"I'm working saturday." He lied. It was a faint hope that it'd be enough to shut this pest up and earn him back some peace.

"Maaan you gotta get 'ya boss of your back. You're what, two hundred and somethin'? You're in the prime of your life man. You gotta live it up while you can, live fast die hard 'ya know?"

Howell wasn't even going to attempt to correct Tapper's gratuitously incorrect grasp of the human life span. He just idly pulled out his phone to check the time in the faint hope that the bus was pulling up soon so he could spend less time chattering with guy.

As luck would have it he could see the bus pulling up the turn. As it slowed to a halt at the stop the metal doors slid open and he climbed aboard. The only real thing to greet him was a small backlit panel, the driver firmly concealed behind a steel wall. Given how rough this neighborhood was the drivers needed protection and they only needed to see out the front anyhow so they worked inside sturdy metal boxed wielded into the metal rectangles on wheels they drove. Even the door leading into the driver's seat was thick with steel and heavy locks. This wasn't one of those better off bus companies that had the money to spare for protective hieroturgies for the few that'd even bother running buses through the less civil sectors of the city so the drivers defenses were fairly basic. It was just a big metal box with a sleek card scanner for passengers to pay through. After all the bus company barely gave a fig about the driver's comforts but they would stop at nothing to ensure that the passengers were always readily able to pay.

"Later Howell!" He gave a wave back to Tapper as he tapped his card on the scanner. With his payment scanned in the doors shut and he was on his way to work.

 

[Luma]

Sonia idly tapped the top of her phone with her thumb as she wandered the hall. Skye was pretty prompt, but Sophia on the other hand...

"Guess Sophia's just busy," Sonia concluded to herself after a whopping 47 seconds had passed. "Like she always is. Well it should be more comfortable with just Skye anyway."

Flipping into another app, Sonia pulled out what looked like it was supposed to be a list, except it only contained one person: Skye Seraphina. Tapping on her name, a map opened up and scrolled across the world before punching down a little marker with some GPS coordinates. Truthfully, Sonia had synced their phones to be able to track each other a couple years ago. As far as she knew, Skye had no idea, and every time she'd ask how Sonia knew her exact position, she'd make up some 'location spell' she'd learned at school.

N 45° 11' 30.773"
W 30° 31' 1.723"

Also shown were several key pieces of info to help make long-range teleportation that much easier; one of those apps you couldn't really attend Inerva without hearing about... a lot. Stepping aside into one of the blank 'teleportation rooms.' Sonia thrusting a hand out and began drawing patterns in the air with her finger. The semantics, in her version of the spell, weren't strictly necessary, but for longer teleportation, especially in and out of Inerva, it was important to get the altitude right. Falling to your death was no laughing matter.

The space in front of her began to warp and compress and after about a minute, she stepped forward into... the sand? Right, Skye was near the coast, so this much be the beach. Logical. Sonia stole a quick 360 look at her surroundings, catching sight of Skye's purple head fairly easily. Unlike before, at such a short distance, Sonia was able to warp the distance away more easily, popping up just a few feet away. She immediately answered.

"Burgers are fine. At this point I'd probably even try some of Sophia's sushi... maybe," she tacked on at the end. "Are you ready now, or is there still something you need to do?"

---

Sand was awful, Skye concluded as she finally finished getting the awful stuff off her uniform to a degree acceptable that it would look like she wasn't playing hooky. However, she had missed her hair, leaving it loose. She began to pin it back up when she heard something from behind her. Like teleporting...?

Skye jumped about a foot into the air and landed on her butt. It was then covered in sand, again. Stupid sand.

"Sonia....! I just managed to get all the sand off!" Skye whined.

She threw a little bit of sand as revenge.

"I don't know how you manage to always find me. I swear I'll figure it out eventually. If Sophia knew I was playing hooky she'd kill me... so let's just go together, okay? At least until I get all this sand off, finally."

Besides, Sophia was probably busy. At least, Skye really really hoped that she was. Explaining this whole beach situation wasn't exactly going to be easy. Or fun, for that matter.

Skye racked her brain for a burger place nearby. Burger Queen? Nah, Skye hated their fries. Wacky Ronald? But she wanted a real burger.

"How about we go to Burger Billy's Burger Shack Of Burgers? Unless you have a better suggestion?" Skye asked. "Oh, and we're walking. I always get sick if we teleport. Nausea and eating are the worst pairing."

Skye tied up her hair -she was tired of trying to get the sand out of... well, everywhere. She wondered if Sonia had thought about getting a gift for Sophia, but decided not to ask. Better not to stir anything up like that quite yet. Skye started to walk towards Burger Billy's Burger Shack Of Burgers, checking back to see if Sonia was following behind yet or not.

---

"Okay, how is that my fau— pffth... hey!" Sonia dusted the sand particles off her jacket, watching as they dispersed into the ocean breeze. "BB's hm? Not exactly fine dining... or dining at all, but I always appreciate prompt food, so sure. If you just stand right here I can—"

Sonia was interrupted and released the most in-your-face, obvious sigh possible. "Isn't it like 10 minutes away? You know, the cumulative time across your life that you could save with teleporting can actually add full, 24-hour days to your life," she commented pointedly, wandering alongside Skye. "Depending on just how slow you walk, how far you need to walk, and how frequently you need to do it, it could even saves weeks, perhaps months. That's well worth the cost of any... 'portal sickness' you might develop in my opinion."

After a few minutes of walking, Sonia finally dropped the topic and remained silent for a bit, finally piping back up to ask, "So how is school then? If you ran off because you're having trouble with something, I suppose I could..." she trailed off somewhere in the process of saying 'help' or 'tutor you,' involuntarily shuddering a bit at the idea. "—recommend some effective resources. I found this list of textbooks which are considered the most optimal for each subject. It helped me a lot."

Turning a sidewalk corner, a small shack came into view in the distance. Truthfully, it looked more like a building-sized shed, and completely out of place next to the buildings around it. The basic look of Burger Billy's Shack was— at this point —iconic in this part of town, or perhaps 'infamous.'

Now within smelling distance of the greasy food, Sonia began to edge ahead, eventually arriving at the outside counter. Not unlike an ice-cream place, one never actually ate at the shack, so much as ate from it, and usually with crippling regret afterwords. "Just a Shack Burger for me," Sonia ordered, immediately slapping down the exact change she'd pre-counted from her pocket onto the counter. A few moments later, a paper plate was slid back from inside, featuring a massive burger greasy enough to potentially be used as a makeshift mirror. "There go my health goals for the month," she joked, grabbing it through 5 layers of napkin and chomping a massive bite.

---

"Sonia, you're always way too focused on the destination. Plus, if I hadn't walked from the beach, we would have missed the great views on it." Skye replied to Sonia's insistence on teleportation.

It wasn't really a far walk, and Skye never got why powerful magicians always teleported everywhere. There was all the time and space folding and making sure you didn't fall to your death. Plus, Skye really really hated how sick she felt afterward. Her stomach felt like it would take months to return when she teleported and that was a horrible feeling.

The shake in question was around the corner, and Sonia quickly ordered. Skye pondered the menu for a second and then just ordered the same as Sonia.

"Eh, I don't need to worry too hard about those as long as I keep up my training. But still... I feel like I should do like, fifty extra sit ups or something when I eat from BB's." Skye said.

Convenience versus quality was an uphill battle. Skye preferred the faster type of restaurants, but when she was worried about expenses and gaining too much flab she'd opt for a packed lunch.

Skye dabbed at her burger and let it drain off a bit before taking a bite. She liked grease as much as the next person, but she really should at least counteract some of it. Skye also vowed never to look inside a BB's kitchen if she could help it. She felt like the floors were composed mostly of grease and the despair of the workers.

"Oh yeah, I was wondering what to get Sophia for her birthday. I know you probably don't wanna give something super awesome like me... but I still want to thank her somehow. It's a big milestone for her, and I feel guilty that she spent a good chunk of her life helping us."

Maybe the grease and heartburn might distract Sonia from being upset at Sophia for a moment? Probably not, but Skye was going to have to explain her playing hooky sooner or later and Sonia wasn't the one that Skye had to lie to. It was all white lies of course, but Sophia might see through it if Skye didn't at least attempt for some backup.

"Do you have any ideas? I was thinking maybe another Yukata for her."

---

Sonia visibly tensed up at the mention of Sophia's birthday, coughing a few stray bits of burger out of her throat. A few steps later, she fell back into a nearby bench on the sidewalk, taking a moment to rest and ponder this new information while she finished the burger.

"Right, that is today, isn't it," Sonia confirmed. "Might be why she's busy. Well, if you want the perfect gift, one of my classmates shared a spell which can theoretically extract desires from the human mind. It's not even half as illegal as it sounds, and I bet he'd do it if I asked. We'd just need to find some way to get Sophia to stay still for an hour or two. Maybe while she's sleeping?"

From the absolute absurdity of the suggestion, most people would've taken Sonia's offer as a joke, but Skye had the advantage of knowing her sister: the offer was dead serious.

"I guess the kimono option works too though, considering the time constraint. Plus, there might be some things she'd like that she doesn't technically want, as far as her mind is concerned. A predictive spell like that would be impossibly challenging to design." Sonia took another generously sized bite of health concerns in a bun. "My nanotransmutation lab let me keep the giant diamond from last year, so I could just give her that. Maybe I'll transmute it into a little statuette of her."

---

Ah, so she probably shouldn't have mentioned the birthday. So Sonia and Sophia were still fighting. Skye didn't really get it, but she supposed those two had a different relationship. Skye understood some of it though. She on some level knew that Sophia would never deem Skye good enough to do what Skye always dreamed of.

"Yeah, that's what I'm thinking too. Except for the spell part. Which reminds me that I should double check the runes in the shop later." Skye said.

She considered that she should have grabbed fries as she sat down next to Sonia. They'd be greasy too, but somehow BB's made excellent fries in spite of their greasy than a teenager that never showered burgers. A really misnamed store, all in all.

"Yeah, it's too bad I don't I have time for that sort of spell, Sonia. I could have had the perfect gift moths ago. Then again, she's pretty easy to shop for if you know the right places to shop. I'm not sure why she likes that Japanese stuff so much. We're French." Skye said. "And the Japanese are obsessed with the French. So I guess it's all one big cycle?"

Skye finished off her burger in a few bites, trying to eat it quickly without tasting it too deeply. It was drowned in mustard as usual. Skye sort of hated mustard but if she asked for none it'd still be on her burger.

"But new subject. How were your first classes of the semester at Inerva? I'm dying to hear what you learned. Was it more on teleportation? Runes?"

---

Sonia released a powerfully audible sigh at the question. "Most of today was actually just one class. The professors decided to show off by transforming into a dragon for a while... which was interesting I suppose." Shrugging, she continued, "The rest of it was pretty much three hours of them talking non-stop. I mean... I guess I learned a few things, but..." she let that thought hang so she could take another bite.

"It's a huge time commitment, but I really can't give up Runicography, given how useful it is. Especially with my... project."

For the most part, Sonia had learned not to bring up her project, and a mental reflex immediately kicked in, almost forcing her to change the topic. "Also, even if it's technically true, I wouldn't exactly call myself French. Then people would start thinking I could speak it without a translation rune. I'm really an Ominarite through and through." Sonia finished shoving the last bite of burger in her mouth.

---

"Guess we're more French approximate, then."

Bing. Skye's phone went off, having received Sophia's text.

At BB's now. Ah, here's the coordinates if you wanna teleport. Seriously though, how do you guys not get sick when you do that? D:

"Annnd... sent." Skye said. "I'd say that appearances can be decieving. Do that class, maybe it'll be more exciting than you think. Runes are like that you know? We just write in a dusty old language and poof! Stuff happens."

Skye turned and threw her wrapper into the trash, watching it skitter around the rim before falling in. Sophia probably could just sink it without looking. Skye tried not to sigh.

"So, how goes your project? It's a pretty tall order, right? Were you planning on giving your project a cool codename yet to avoid dancing around this topic in public or what?"

Sure, she could just let that mention slide. Orrrr she could take the opportunity to tease her older sister like the younger sister she was.

"Gonna call it a homunculus or maybe a golem? Or are those both taken?"

---

Sonia returned a strange look. "Put yourself in the project's place. You wouldn't want to be called a 'homunculus' or a 'golem,' right? I keep trying to call her a 'Synthesized Neuronic Assistant Lifeform,' but it hasn't caught on yet. The most I could manage was SNAL. Most of the people helping me just call her Sophie though."

Suddenly, Sonia shook her head. "Right, sorry. It's progressing, but too slow to be a birthday present. Maybe next year?"

Sonia casually tossed the wrapper at the same can, missing by a good margin, wrapper hitting the sidewalk. "Anyway, good lunch, but I should get back to school. Thanks, Skye." Pulling up her app again, Sonia murmured her way through a similar spell and stepped straight back into the same room she'd left by, leaving Skye there alone.

 

[Raijinslayer]

A lone figure stood along a beachfront, watching the waves roll over each other in the Ocean blue as he stood with his bare feet buried deep within the sand. As the waves rolled in, a slight shiver ran through him as the shock of cold ran up his legs, and he looked down in silent wonder as he felt the water tug the sand out from underfoot. It was a strange sensation, standing atop a surface that was constantly shifting like this, but the feeling as the sand and ocean water brushed passed his skin was. . . pleasant.

So this is the sea. . . Gael wondered, tilting his head ever so slightly as he crouched down, to run his hand through the wet sand, Absent-mindedly, he began to draw a figure in this strange phenomena, unsure exactly what it was. Before he could begin to get a sense of it, however, the waves returned once more, stealing away any sense of form or definition from his work, returning it back to the formless mass of wet sand it had been before. So fickle. . .

---

Gael looked around as he traveled down the boardwalk that ringed the beach, hidden from sight and sense thanks to his magic. This lack of detection allowed him to observe those around him without disturbing the moment. He'd learned rather quickly that people in Medius didn't seem to appreciate being studied, some getting so perturbed by it to the point of trying to accost him though he naturally evaded such scenario's by enacting his Annulment of Nothing. . . something that often seems to perturb said individuals even more. And while observing people reacting to his 'disappearances' had been fascinating, he cut down on his time outside of his hidden state so as to lessen the amount of attention he'd draw to himself.

Currently, he had taken the time from his daily studies of the populace around his current place of dwelling to follow a few individuals around throughout the day while hidden. It had proven to be quite enlightening, as he discovered things like the rail system, places where people gather to eat lots of delicious smelling food, an underground version of the rail system, and many more wondrous things before his latest subject had led him to this beach. Along with his study of the Sea and the sands, he had also been watching more than a few people as they interacted.

People here seemed to be more at ease than the ones in the city proper, less hurried and frantic. In fact, some of the people here had taken to just laying underneath large bits of fabric for hours on end, seeming to just enjoy being in the presence of the ocean itself. A strange behavior, though understandable given his own interactions with the water's bringing him no end of simple pleasure.

But most interesting to Gael was the interactions that some of the beach-goer's engaged in, where men often engaged with or stared after members of the opposite sex, often leading to a number of interesting conversations and more than a few conflicts. After his hours of examination, however, Gael felt the urge to try out such an interaction himself, curious how far he'd be able to get by with what he'd managed to gather from his study. The only issue being just witch subject to test for his experiment, hence his walk down the boardwalk.

He was getting ready to simply give up on the ordeal when he stumbled across a pair of girls, talking about some sort of project before one of them pulled out their phone and vanished, leaving the other one alone. Wasn't much to catch his eye, but it was more interesting than anything else he'd come across today. But first, he needed to adopt the proper attire.

No sooner had the thought came to him did a prickly sensation start to form across his body, the usual armor he wore dispersing back into the swarm of drones that formed it, those not needed for his new wardrobe filtering through his pores back into his body while those that remained formed a pair of white shorts of similar material to that of most of the other men on the beach seemed to be wearing.

With his outfit addressed, Gael let go of his magic, allowing his presence to be detected as he jogged over to the solitary girl, his footsteps still hardly making a sound as he approached, before he came to a stop behind her(perhaps a little too close) and giving her a tap on the shoulder to alert her to his presence.

When she turned around, he'd give a big smile and a friendly wave, a small pictogram of a waving man standing on his shoulder to help sell the message of greeting he was trying to convey.

@Karyra[/hr]

 

[Karyra]

Skye was busy trying to message Sophia when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Jumping up in surprise, she juggled her phone for a second before ultimately catching it. Jeez, who the heck just tapped on a stranger's shoulder? Plus, whoever it was had to be pretty stealthy. Years of teleporting surprises made her appreciate hearing people sneak up, and she needed to refine that skill anyway.

As she turned around, she saw some guy in white swim shorts and a little... was that an illusion of a person on his shoulder? Her eyes flicked between the illusion and the man's face. He seemed nice enough, but she was still a bit on edge.

"Uh... hello. Can I help you somehow...? Are you lost or something?" Skye asked. This guy was weird, but she wasn't going to say anything. He could be a prae or a licenta or something. It would be pretty rude to judge based on her initial gut feeling of him as human.

How does one respond to this? Sophia would be on her way now, and as cute as this guy was, she had a prior obligation. Unless... Sophia canceled. Skye really hoped not. She had been looking forward to hanging out with Sophia for the first time in a while. However, she could still do that at the shop.

"I'm waiting for my sister. You could... uh... join me I guess? My oldest sister knows a lot about this place. I don't really know how I could help you, sir."

 

[Raijinslayer]

Gael and the figure on his shoulder both shook their heads at Skye's question about them, still smiling as he first pointed to himself than to her. After that, he mimed conversing with the figure on his shoulder, bubbles filled with squiggly lines appearing over each of their heads. It seemed he just wished to strike up a conversation, an idea that would be reinforced as he walked over to a nearby bench to take a seat and expectantly patted the seat next to him.

Whether or not Skye did sit down, he would make a gesture to himself before pointing to the figure on his shoulder which suddenly morphed into a long line of white that would curl over itself over and over until it resembled a set of letters.

Gaël

Once again, Gael pointed towards himself to make sure she understood, then gesturing to her with a questioning look.

@Karyra