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Petra Soroka     The misandry club started as a joke, but as Petra began to take the process of actually setting it up more seriously-- entirely because of Rosalyn's confusion-- she became more and more fond of the idea.

    There's a base but compelling appeal to throwing her money and weight around a little bit, especially when she can use it to treat a bunch of girls she feels positively towards, and she's still riding the high of freeing Matilda from her medical cage and seeing how excited she was by the eclipse. And so Petra wields the influence of a Concord Partner for her most noble goal, asking her agent Seoyoon to find some country club somewhere that's beholden to the Concord for one reason or another and then showing up there.

    What Petra-- or rather Seoyoon-- finds is one that's actually indebted to the Concord indirectly because of Petra's actions. Situated at the very edge of the Sierra Nevadas, in what used to be northern California but is now part of the Greater Cascadia Autonomous Region ever since the complete and yet harmless dissolution of the United States, the club slash resort is now largely trafficked by multiversal rather than national interests. What this means is, when Petra informs them of her interest in taking an afternoon there, she claims an entire banquet patio with a mountain view without having to lift a finger.

    The artificial warpgate is set up and powered on for direct, one-stop travel, and taken down once Petra and her invitees have stepped through. In Matilda's case, Petra swoops by the LRC during her discharge to roll her wheelchair out herself, bringing her down the ramp from the warpgate and into the resort on her own.

    The patio that Petra got could comfortably fit thirty people under its wooden overhang, with seats and chairs in various arrangements. The only chairs she's actually interested in using are the cushioned lounge chairs set up at the edge, nearby the granite-rimmed charcoal trough, fed with gas to provide a steady, low flame as long as they're there. It's high enough in altitude that the early fall air has just a small bite of cold to it, and there's a view down the slope of the mountain with pine trees that roll down into a glittering lake.

    The moment the four of them are all in their private patio, Petra nabs a prepared mimosa off the self-serve bar and pushes it into Matilda's hands, then drapes herself across the arms of an armchair.

    "Well, welcome to the first official meeting of the broadband's girls' club."
Foundation Scions     Dizzy-eyed from the no-doubt faster than approved wheelchair-pushing, and clutching the hand-rests in a worry to not tumble out, the Matilda in-question from the Unexpected Matilda Delivery Method, is a giggly, distractable mess from the moment she's wheeled through the warpgate into the crisp Sierra Nevada air. It's a big change from the nighttime fields and forest-lines around the Foundation, that they viewed the eclipse from- "Ah! Comme c'est lumineux!"

    For the first time in about ten days, she's able to wear something other than a hospital gown- ten days, for that matter, feels an unbelievable length! She can only clearly remember a few of them, but it felt a matter of weeks! So, she's back to a laundered-up version of what she was wearing when she checked in, none other than her SPDM Monitor Assistant's getup, with that silly skort and tiny red tie!

    "Ouah... I recall-once meeting with ma mère at a similar caliber of establishment! She had matters to attend to, but the mountains, they were quite fit to wander around!" Staring out at them, Matilda scuffs a foot on the ground, in a little impulsive lean out of the moving wheelchair closer to them, like that should just work, consequence-free. A little 'Ach, zut,' gets murmured out when she quickly scoots it back up away from concrete!

    Then, she's stopped, and, despite being nearly fully-well, she wobbles, from dizziness, when she does stand up! She flashes a little palm-forward wave, to Nimue, and Rosalyn- "So that is what your faces look like!" is a bad first choice of words from her! And then there's a mimosa in her waving-hand!

    Slow and deliberate, almost-cautious, with one hand down at her side, Matilda brings the rim of the mimosa flute under her nose, sniffs at it, and then smiles real big- "Petra! This has proper, champagne français, non?" She sips it, and her balled-up hand at her side wiggles back and forth a bit, and her whole torso does-so to a much lesser degree, excitement needing motion! Half the glass is gone before it's no longer tilted back! Pitifully whiny, "Jus d'orange fraîchement pressé- the hospital's food, was so, so flavorless! How wonderfully suited!"

    For whatever reason, Matilda just, stays standing for a while, even bouncing slightly on her heels. She's having a good time already!
Lustre Team     Since this isn't a job, all two members of Lustre Team don't have to arrive in their work outfits! Which were already kind of fantasy anime dressy, so it wouldn't be too ridiculous, but, as consummate professionals, they understand work-life balance! Or at least, like, work-life separation!

    So Rosalyn shows up in a surprisingly pretty light summer dress; two-layered, embroidered, lace cuffs and hem, fancy v collar, base white decorated with the family sky and royal blues in ribbon, sash, cuffs-binds, inner silk blouse, and slutty little ruffled necktie, coordinating silver-ameythst jewellery with an errant spash of purple thread design. Nimue shows up as if they clearly hadn't coordinated outfits whatsoever, because she decided on the equivalent of miniskirt and stockings with chunky boots and a blouse she matched to an even sluttier tie, using loud pink and pastel daffodil to make her look like she'd get kicked out of any college with a dress code in the country. She did her nails even brighter.

    Nimue brought her staff! And a backpack studded with pins and dripping with glittery baubles and charms, only the former of which were bought multiversally. Rosalyn brought a purse, a wine bottle, and nothing else. She keeps four feet away from Nimue at all times.

    "Finally. Somewhere with some class."
    "Nowhere is going to be classy on the job!"
    "If that horrible radio is to be believed, everywhere is 'on the job' to these people."

    'Well, welcome to the first official meeting of the broadband's girls' club.'

    Rosalyn looks perfectly pleased to be here! She only says "First? What happened to the last club?" Nimue is also pleased to be here! She skips right up to Petra immediately! "Ooooh~! What an honour! Oh wow you didn't tell me you were rich, Petra~" "Really now? I recall you seizing on the first mention of a castle."

    'Ouah... I recall-once meeting with ma mère at a similar caliber of establishment! She had matters to attend to, but the mountains, they were quite fit to wander around!'

5tWhilst Rosalyn hands over the bottle as a sort of customary gift to Petra, Nimue is getting distracted immediately by Matilda. "Ohmygosh it's you!" she squeals, throwing up her hands at the first sound of her voice. "The cutie from the radio! Hi! Hi~" She gasps when Matilda stands up, pivoting to croon "Oh is that really okay?! You brave girl . . . Do you have a condition? Where's your assistant? Oh is this a special time for you to go outside? No no, come over here, sit down!" Hallucinating a sickly oujo storyline already, she rushes over to firmly grab Matilda around the waist and arm and physically guide her to a seat.
Petra Soroka     Petra has, for better or for worse, picked up many fashion cues from her college environment, and not so much from the women there. This isn't a place that warrants a costume from her, since she's not doing *theatre* here, but she'd feel so crude just wearing her t-shirts and nothing fancier, so she compromises in a way that coincidentally lands her in the exact realm of fashion expectations for the modern rich, for a particular demographic.

    All of her clothes are high quality, but mundane. She's got a tight fitting white crew neck shirt underneath a oversized but insubstantial jacket, unzipped to frame her mother-of-pearl inlay pendant, with baggy linen pants and sneakers. She's also got sunglasses pushed up to her forehead, and the outfit is counterbalanced by conspicuously glittering earrings and manicured nails.

"Ouah... I recall-once meeting with ma mère at a similar caliber of establishment!"

    "Mountains are so fit for wandering." Petra isn't looking ahead of her while pushing Matilda's wheelchair (certainly faster than advisable, because that's more fun!). Instead she's looking out over the mountains, and idly wondering already, before even reaching their destination room, about whether it might be more fun to just run around in the woods.

    But no. All things in moderation, or rather, each in their individual excesses. And it'd be embarrassing in front of Rosalyn and-- just Rosalyn.

    "What *does* your mom do, anyways? I mean, divination, obviously, but she sounds cool. And I've never, like, heard of her being around."

"Petra! This has proper, champagne français, non?"

    "It'd better."

    Petra has no opinions at all about this herself, but she'd be kind of petulantly annoyed if she went through so much effort (none at all) to be *scammed* by a 'high class establishment'. Scooping a little bit of Silver off of her tail, the morphmetal extends from her hand to reach over and nab the champagne bottle without getting up, bringing it over for her to examine.

"First? What happened to the last club?"

    "Lost in the war." Petra keeps investigating the champagne bottle for a minute longer, failing to glean anything at all from it, before bouncing up to her feet and stretching.

    "But anyways!! I'm glad you're here! It's so nice to just hang out, sometimes, where those freaks on the radio can't bother us."

"Oh wow you didn't tell me you were rich, Petra~"

    Suddenly, Petra worries she's done something evil by flaunting it like this. A moment later, she resolves this feeling with the internal mantra that all wealth in the world should belong to women, and she's just doing her part.

    "It's-- well, I'm a Concord Partner, so it's only natural. And what else is it good for besides this?"

"Oh is that really okay?! You brave girl . . . Do you have a condition?"

    "She's *so* brave." On the other side of Matilda, Petra is flanking her with Nimue like her two greasy aunts, one step short of massaging her shoulders. "She was sick for *weeks* because of the doctors sabotaging her."

    The wine bottle's placed on the table near the crackling fire, and at the bar, there's enough alcohol for ten times as many people as are actually here. There's little sandwiches and stuff too, and a phone to call staff, but since the patio's set for full capacity, there's probably no need to do anything more.
Foundation Scions 'What *does* your mom do, anyways?'

    "Why, she is a highly-renowned consultant, for the Foundation, and a similarly renowned businesswoman of fine crystal goods, enchanted and not!" A little sigh, curling up ever so slightly in the wheelchair, "She is quite busy! So, she is not around much to hear-of."

. . .

    Matilda, after taking a moment to look around, between Rosalyn, Nimue, and then down at herself, remarks- "Hah! Petra, if you had worn some sort of neck-tie, then there would have been un uniforme émergent pour le club des filles!" Matilda fiddle-adjusts the Z-shaped tiebar ornament on hers, the big blue topaz set in it quite pretty in the light! Her tongue is, of course, stuck between her teeth in focus for the maneuver! "... Hmph! Quelle ironie!"

'I'm a Concord Partner, so it's only natural.'

    Wanting in on it, and just not detecting Petra's momentary unease, "The Bouanich family is quite wealthy, too! Maman, she is so very succesful, and quite high-class! So! It is good of you to provide only the best!"

    Matilda, looking towards Rosalyn, immediately alerts on her jewelry- "Ah! Those amethysts, they are very boldly-colored! Do they have stories to them, Ms. Rosalyn?" Tell the rockhound about the rocks!! Tell her!

'The cutie from the radio! Hi! Hi~'

    "Ah! Oui, yes! But, to be more accurate, I, Matilda Bouanich, am from Paris, France," A tiny pause, "Er, and also the St. Pavlov Foundation! I am not mostly from the radio, but, ah-hem, I am only the most charming!"

    Repeating the wave, with the mimosa'd hand, "Hello Ms. Nimue! Your hair, it is so fluffy!"

'Do you have a condition? Where's your assistant?'

    "Hein? Do I have a condition? Why, my condition, is only the best!" Matilda misunderstands, in the daze of being praised and fussed-over! She's right back to dizzy-eyes, especially when Petra joins in! She makes a little 'Hwuaph' noise when Nimue grabs her, shoulders stiffer, eyes-wider, and then just kind of melts into letting herself be guided, with a faintly moon-eyed smily expression.

    "Ah, er, an assistant? Some-day, Sonetto, she will be my assistant! I bet she could carry me right into a chair..." Flumped down, she immediately wiggles a little on the cushion, resulting in sitting kinda funny, until she's sorta just kneeling upright? "Merci Nimue, Petra! You both did very-good jobs in..." What were they doing..? Matilda looks from side to side, a little, and decides to drink more of her mimosa! Faintly blurbled as she's sipping, "I'm so brave!"

    "Ce n'est sûrement pas encore un rêve, n'est-ce pas?"
Lustre Team     'Lost in the war.'

    "Ah." That's all it takes for Petra to *know* Rosalyn has taken her seriously. Not only that, but in a weirdly knowing-sisterly way! "A shame. And all too common of one, wouldn't you agree?" she says, stopping to examine a glass before anything is poured, folding her arms and rotating it in the light. "Such things will happen so long as people are people, but it would be an improvement to say the least if they didn't insist on taking valuable history with them."

    'But anyways!! I'm glad you're here!'

    "Of course you are." she says with a little smirk, finally putting down the glass, smoothing out her dress under her, and taking a seat. "Cultivating one's social life is of grievously misunderstood importance among adventurers, believe me. It's so very tiresome to try to explain to those who can't stand any entertainment less rowdy than a bar fight."

    'It's-- well, I'm a Concord Partner, so it's only natural. And what else is it good for besides this?'

    "Mhm mhm~ No, for real, I totally understand~" Nimue says, not understanding. "What is money for but making people happy, right~?" And by 'people', she means Woman. "Removing curses, for one." Rosalyn adds, huffing. "Well I don't know about you but that makes me happy! Unless it's a certain special kind of curse--" Rosalyn starts loudly snapping her fingers, declaring "Those don't exist!" strictly.

    'She was sick for *weeks* because of the doctors sabotaging her.'

    "She's so brave!" Nimue babbles back. Then her eyes shoot open wide, and she squeaks, scandalized, "Sabotaged?! What's their problem?!" Then she throws up her hands, already back to her spacy-evil grin. "Wait wait! Let me guess! A rival! A rival from another house! A rival in love! But over her stay, she came to view the object of their shared obsession in her and how she resembles her, and hopelessly fell into obsession herself, secretly poisoning her to keep her by her side and at her mercy!" There's the distinct sense that she began that thought innocently, then added details as she went along.

    Rosalyn sighs, gives up on having an opinion, and settles herself into the chair. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath of mountain air, and breathes out with a measure of enjoyment. "What unexpectedly excellent taste. My family's villa, too, is in the mountains."

    'The Bouanich family is quite wealthy, too! Maman, she is so very succesful, and quite high-class!'

    Nimue squeals for five consecutive seconds. "Gods! Everyone here is a rich girl?! How did I get here! Ahh, I'm in heaven! I'm dead and the gods finally noticed what a valiant crusader for women's rights I've been and they sent me here!"

    'Ah! Those amethysts, they are very boldly-colored! Do they have stories to them, Ms. Rosalyn?'

    Rosalyn, less instantly enthused by Matilda until she hears a proper introduction, side-glances and says, "The necklace was a gift from a suitor; long-passed in the war, but it's a tasteful and sentimental accessory. The earrings were to commemorate joining the Blue Moon guild itself. They're expensive magical items, I'll have you know." Those weren't a gift. She bought them herself. With the money her family gave her to travel. As startup capital.
Lustre Team     'But, to be more accurate, I, Matilda Bouanich, am from Paris, France'

    "Ooh! Paris France!" "Rosalyn of House Rispada. A pleasure, I'm sure." "You already know my name, right~? Riiiight~? Remember? On the radio?" She fawns over Matilda with ditzy little giggles at her '''joke'''. "You're soooo brave~" She plops herself into the chair next to Matilda. For the time being. Petra will not escape being creeped on forever. "So! Tell me about Paris France!)" Nimue says, already leaning way over the arm. "It sounds like a big~ deal~"
Petra Soroka ". . . and hopelessly fell into obsession herself, secretly poisoning her to keep her by her side and at her mercy!"

    Several seconds after Nimue's bizarre fanfiction ends with silence, Petra twists around to look at Matilda. "Matilda, were you secretly poisoned?"}

"My family's villa, too, is in the mountains."

    "Yeah?" Then, with no other windup, "You get along with them?"

"I'm dead and the gods finally noticed what a valiant crusader for women's rights I've been and they sent me here!"

    "This is a salon." Petra declares authoritatively. "A salon for women's rights. So you're right where you belong."

"They're expensive magical items, I'll have you know."

    "Magical for what?"

    Petra folds her arms on the side of her chair and rests her chin on them. The gender-ambiguity of 'suitor' instantly made her lock on to figuring out the status of the only person here she doesn't already know for sure is strictly a lesbian. "Did he give them to you for protection?"
Petra Soroka "Petra, if you had worn some sort of neck-tie, then there would have been un uniforme émergent pour le club des filles!"

    Petra looks around to double check, then down at her own outfit. Wagging her finger jokingly, Petra nabs a bloody mary for herself to sip from. "All wearing ties to a *girls'* meeting? Not very woke of you. It seems like only I, can uphold traditional standards of femininity here."

    Petra is the least femininely dressed person here! By a long shot! "I've got a tie on my Library uniform, but that's work, and this is hanging-out."

"I am not mostly from the radio, but, ah-hem, I am only the most charming!"

    Conspiratorially, leaning over to talk to Nimue like Matilda can't just overhear, "She's literally *so* cute. She's like this *all* the time. And this girl she's into, she doesn't even see the appeal! Can you believe it?!"

"Why, my condition, is only the best!"

    "See!"

    Petra swings her arm out to point at Matilda with her glass-holding hand, only not sloshing the cocktail out over the rim for drinking a bunch already. "In a fair world, women would be falling all over her."

"Some-day, Sonetto, she will be my assistant!"

    Cupping a hand to the side of her mouth, Petra says in a stage whisper, "That's her."

"Such things will happen so long as people are people, but it would be an improvement to say the least if they didn't insist on taking valuable history with them."

    "Oh my god. I'm always saying that!"

    Really, Rosalyn is the only one here who feels like a peer to Petra, even if she is kind of stupid. She drops into her chair and crosses her legs over each other, before restlessly scootching the entire setup closer to the fire so she can feel the warmth on her. "I've been saying that for the whole course of this war I've been involved in. I keep chronicling stuff while we go on, that'd pretty much just be annihilated otherwise."

    Petra wiggles her foot to point with the toe of her sneakers out into the wilderness. "You know, funny story, but I actually toppled the whole nation that used to be here, without destroying a single thing. It's a bit of a fixation of mine."

"It's so very tiresome to try to explain to those who can't stand any entertainment less rowdy than a bar fight."

    Petra scoffs and rolls her eyes, taking another drink. "God. *Men*. I mean, I like to roughhouse sometimes myself, but sometimes I talk about, you know, music, or poetry, or literature, and I just get blank stares."

"Removing curses, for one."

    "Oh, I don't pay for that. My--"

    Petra, in the casual and comfortable air of the patio, has started her sentence incorrectly. There is no path here that leads out of danger, and no word that can follow 'my' and lead to 'Tamamo' without implying something she can't take back. After freezing, Petra decides to rewrite the sentence from the beginning and bulldoze past it.

    "Tamamo can always deal with them, and-- well, if it's not threatening my life, she wouldn't do anything about it, but then I'm basically fine anyways? I've inoculated myself with larger curses over time, so they only make me stronger now."

"Sabotaged?! What's their problem?!"

    Petra tucks her feet under her butt on her chair, curling around to the side to lean over and lower her voice. "Humans hate magic on her world. It's a whole thing, and it's so annoying."
Foundation Scions 'All wearing ties to a *girls'* meeting?'

    "Heyyyyy! They are girls' ties!" Like she didn't just comment on the ironic nature! "Besides! I am dressed very smartly, and in such a way where I could easily run-around, if need be, as the Monitor Assistant of the SPDM must on-occassion! The jupe-culotte, is an excellent article of clothing for just that! Tendance et utile!"

'Unless it's a certain special kind of curse--'
'Those don't exist!'

    "What sort of curse? Matilda Bouanich, she is quite the prodigy of arcanum! I would know for certain if it exists, if you tell me of the variety!" Then, quieter and faster, "I might need to consult the library, which may take some time, but, that's besides the point! Tell me what type!"

'I'm dead and the gods finally noticed what a valiant crusader for women's rights I've been and they sent me here!'

    "You look more to be alive!" She's soooo helpful!

'And this girl she's into, she doesn't even see the appeal!'

    "She will see my appeal some-day!" Matilda's proud, right now, and not even soggy about it! Just dizzy! She's all smiles about it! It's fine! Good luck, Matilda!

'They're expensive magical items, I'll have you know.'

    "Évidemment! I could tell that!" Matilda rolls her eyes for only a moment, before her attention is right back, a little more subdued- "My condolences about the suitor, but, remembering her by such a means, that is most-understandable. Gemstones, they capture much of a person's memory, and they last so very long. I hold similar gems in close fondness, myself." Why's she assuming the suitor was a woman!

    'You know, funny story, but I actually toppled the whole nation that used to be here, without destroying a single thing.'

    It takes Matilda a moment to recall, but, slightly scolding-tone, "You did destroy exactly one thing, actually, Petra!" She pouts, but then the pout goes away, because she didn't ever really get scolded that hard for the mission, sort-of, being a failure- her own efforts were commendable! Yay!

'Sabotaged?! What's their problem?!'

    "Hein? Sabotage? What, and where?"

'Secretly poisoning her to keep her by her side and at her mercy!'

    Matilda puts a finger to her lips in order to muse better, and mumbles out, "The healer who gave me the concoction in order to make me feel as though I were so, so terribly soft... I do not think she had such intents! J'ai tellement oublié..." Perking up a bit, "Oh! But, I certainly did not know her previously!"

'Matilda, were you secretly poisoned?'

    "Was I..? Je ne sais pas..."

'So! Tell me about Paris France!'

    Matilda automatically leans in towards Nimue, as well, equally too-close. She doesn't seem bothered! She seems happier, actually! la Ville Lumière- the city of light, is what it is also known as, but, not only that, it is a city of gardens, great promenades, art, cuisine, busy, bustling people, and most of all," A dreamy sigh, "Romance, of many sorts! The French do many things well, and most of all, understand the truths of love!"

    Straying a little, "I remember its boulevards from when I was very small, but I visit on-occasion! It is a very different city, but the truths of it, they stay very-much the same! You must see it, and walk along la Seine! Good things will come of it, as they do for many-others!"

    Matilda blinks, and turns her head a little, while still so strangely close-leaning. Whispering slightly, "Your arcane fluctuations, they are somewhat fizzy, Nimue!"
Lustre Team     'All wearing ties to a *girls'* meeting? Not very woke of you. It seems like only I, can uphold traditional standards of femininity here.'

    "Excuse me. This is traditional." "I personally believe that women can do anything."

    ansi9243,'She's literally *so* cute. She's like this *all* the time. And this girl she's into, she doesn't even see the appeal! Can you believe it?!')

    "Noooo! I mean, but-- Okay but that is just classic perfect romantic adorable unrequited love! But still!" Nimue almost lunges over the arm of her chair at the thinnest excuse to give Matilda a big, clingy hug, while Rosalyn starts drinking. "That's so not fair! You're trying so hard all the time! How in the hells has she not noticed you yet?!" That wasn't the word Petra used.

    'In a fair world, women would be falling all over her.'

    Nimue looks back at Petra with her cheek against Matilda's shoulder. "It's so not fair. We have to be the change we want to see in the world." Rosalyn looks at her. Nimue pauses. "I'm just saying generally!"

    'That's her.'

    Nimue mouths 'Sonetto', then lunges to Petra's side instead, warded off by Rosalyn's hand, seeing as she's in the way. "Is she straight?" she stage-whispers, eyes narrowed. "Because, like, there are ways to be sure sure."

    'Oh my god. I'm always saying that!'

    "I'd hoped you would." Rosalyn says, snobby emphasis on 'hoped', overall fondly approving despite it. "War as often as not is merely what the rabble will into existence because they're tired of the way things are and would rather die than remember it. When it begins with some nobler goal in mind, they'll make it that way, if it goes any longer than a year or two. They just can't restrain their baser urges. Every one of them contains the seed of wanting everything achieved by their ancestors and their betters to be wiped clean so they might never be so inconvenienced as to properly live in the shadow of it."

    'You know, funny story, but I actually toppled the whole nation that used to be here, without destroying a single thing. It's a bit of a fixation of mine.'

    Rosalyn looks at Petra over her champagne glass like 'Okay. I'll bite'. "Really now? And how exactly did you do that?"

    'God. *Men*.'

    "Men!!!" Rosalyn sighs, then reluctantly adds "Men. The Blue Moon guild is, might I say, far and away the best at curbing the needs of most adventurers to live like animals, but no organization, no matter how esteemed, is an island."

    'Tamamo can always deal with them'

    "That's what I've been saying! Can't we just go to her?!" "No, I think not." "Why?!" "It was your mistake. As usual. I will not beg for charity to right it. It merely falls to me as ever to mind you." "You're just afraid she's going to fall for me." Rosalyn inhales her drink, and begins coughing behind her hand.
Lustre Team     'Humans hate magic on her world.'

    "What?" Rosalyn coughs out, teary-eyed, through her fingers. "That doesn't even make sense!" Nimue whines. "Who hates magic?! That's for weird inbred freaks who live underground and kidnap virgins!" Not helping Rosalyn's drinky cough. "Sigh. I bet it's a bunch of guys too. I bet they just want to persecute poor, sweet Matilda because she's so talented. I bet they're coping and it's all just sour grapes because they're talentless and ugly and smell bad. I bet they don't even have one elemental affinity between them."

    'Yeah? You get along with them?'

    Rosalyn recovers at a slightly unfortunate time. She has to go back to drinking to recoup her dignity. Like a cat. "Perfectly well. I seldom travel back to see them, given the nature of my work, but if you were expecting something exciting, you'll be sorely disappointed."

    'A salon for women's rights. So you're right where you belong.'

    This time Nimue comes sprinting up to a different chair; or rather, to get close enough to Petra she can kneel in front of her and grab one hand with both of hers, overperforming with slightly unwholesome glee "Yes! Yes! For the cause of civilizing the Multiverse, I will follow you, brave leader!" "Oh please. Present her a ring while you're at it, hm?"

    'Magical for what?'

    "Could you imagine me wearing a helmet?" says a woman who's admittedly very well-taken care of hair is doubtfully any longer than Petra's. "It'd be a gross indignity."

    'Did he give them to you for protection?'

    "No, he gave it to me as a reminder." Rosalyn says, and airily sips her drink. "I said I needed time to think about it." Nimue coincidentally lets go of Petra's hand to come right back to the chair next to Rosalyn now, sitting in it with more force than she has to.

    'What sort of curse? Matilda Bouanich, she is quite the prodigy of arcanum!'

    "Well you knooowwwww . . ." She says, coyly twirling her hair and staring off into the distance. "The kind that even S rank adventurers don't want to talk about." "No." "Because they're embarrassing." "Stop." "The kind of curse that makes it impossible to wear armour because it strips off your clothes!" "That isn't real." "Or the kind that reduces you to an animal, like a slave to your urges!" "It's never happened." "Or like the kind where you're mind controlled into--" "This ridiculous conversation is over!"

    'She will see my appeal some-day!'

    "Yeah? Yeah?! What's the plan? Spill, girl~!"

    'My condolences about the suitor, but, remembering her by such a means'

    Rosalyn makes a face, but wisely keeps her mouth shut.

    'The healer who gave me the concoction in order to make me feel as though I were so, so terribly soft... I do not think she had such intents!'

    "The concoction . . ." Nimue whispers, reverent. "Do you know her name? That sounds su~spi~cious~"
Lustre Team     'la Ville Lumière- the city of light, is what it is also known as'

    "Oh! Oh!" The chair creaks from her bouncing. "You're from the city! Like, a big capital?! Is it a city where everyone uses light magic? Rosalyn's whole house does! Is it like that? Are you from a noble house too~?" How would she know. "Oh gosh! Okay wait no this is totally my whole thing! A city of romance! Of lovers! Of magic and wonder and that amazing accent!"

    'Your arcane fluctuations, they are somewhat fizzy, Nimue!'

    Some modest quantity of 'non-vacuousness' sparks up in her grey eyes. "Fizzy? What, because--" She looks back nervously at Rosalyn, who isn't paying attention. "Oh, because of, um, my affinity? That's normal, so, don't worry! I'm not even fluctuating at all! I'm just really happy!"
Foundation Scions 'Who hates magic?! That's for weird inbred freaks who live underground and kidnap virgins!'

    Worried, "I do not think so-many humans live under the ground, or practice kidnapping of anyone!" But then the topic shifts, and she just starts nodding a little- giggly-dizzy, "Well, I am so very talented, and sweet! In fact, I was recently promoted for deeds requiring my extraordinary talent at divinatory arcanum! Being able to so readily view-upon an encampment, it was deemed quite useful!" Hushed, "Now, I have a badge!"

'What's the plan? Spill, girl~!'

    "Long-term, surely, she will see my talents, and how fashionable, heroic, and excellent the great Matilda Bouanich is, and become my dedicated assistant as I am top Investigator of the St. Pavlov Foundation, putting storied deed after storied deed down on my official reports, succesfully!" But that's not where the juice of it is-

    Quieter, gigglier, "Short-term, surely, she will discover her feelings for me by having to rescue-me out from the clutches of an insidious organization's attempts to recruit me away from my true allegiences, along-side her, and all others close to me. C'est infaillible! We will bond, and all-else, it will be history! Petra's advice, is quite handy, surely!" She giggles, dizzy-dreamy, thinking about history, and wanders off to get another mimosa.

'No, he gave it to me as a reminder.'

    "Hein? Is that the whole of the sentiment..?"

'Is it a city where everyone uses light magic?'

    With an exaggeratedly frustrated sigh, "You would expect-so, but no! Amongst the arcanists of Paris, already so-low a number... I do not think there is such a trend! The nick-name, it originates because, as-befitting such a grand city, it was the center of philosophical enleightenment, for quite a long time! Everyone who was someone, wanted to be there!" Another dreamy sigh. "Or was it because of the streetlamps..?"

    "The Bouanich bloodline, is a renowned family of diviners, and skilled arcanists! I, suppose, I use arcanum relating to light? The Moon, her light is so useful to lens through crystal quartz, in order to beckon-forth visions!"

    "It is, en totalement, my 'thing' as-well!" Well, not really! She's not that much of a city girl! Nefarious liar! That won't stop her from also bouncing excitedly! "We are so like-minded! Perhaps you were meant to be French!"

'I'm not even fluctuating at all! I'm just really happy!'

    Turning her head the other way now, Matilda says, "Fluctuations are the natural pattern for it to take! They all have," A little fussy noise, trying to put it to words, "A 'feel', to them? Yours, it fizzes, like sour soda-pop would! What affinity do you mean, though?")] She takes Nimue's glance away as a weird chance to lean in even personal-bubble-bursting closer, just neutrally interested in 'new person'! Does she notice she's doing it? "An affinity towards fizziness? That would be something!"
Petra Soroka "I am dressed very smartly, and in such a way where I could easily run-around, if need be, as the Monitor Assistant of the SPDM must on-occassion!"

    Petra's mind is, as before, immediately captured by the very appealing topic of running around, and her eyes wander off to look out into the woods. "There's so much running around space out here. It's *really* the best part of this whole section of Earth."

    Petra glances up at the sun, which allows her to jab her finger approximately west towards the coast. "Actually, it's *so* nice running around out here. A couple hours that way, if you go all the way to the ocean, that's basically right where I took Lilian for a night after that whole incident with the Americans."

"How in the hells has she not noticed you yet?!"

    That's, honestly, more accurate than the word Petra used, despite the dangerous aura it carries. Petra firmly believes that anyone within Matilda's strike range who simply *notices* her charm, even if it's in a bit of a 'quel animal est la Panthere Rose?' sort of way.

    "There's just no way she's straight. And, like, every arcanist I've met has been gay-- er, except one. No, I've been collaborating with Matilda on this project for a while. She's just got *challenges."

"We have to be the change we want to see in the world."

    Petra looks at Nimue, then at Rosalyn, raising her eyebrows just a little.

"Every one of them contains the seed of wanting everything achieved by their ancestors and their betters to be wiped clean so they might never be so inconvenienced as to properly live in the shadow of it."

    "Oh, man. Have I got feelings about that." Petra shifts around in her chair to adjust for her tail a bit, uncomfortable with how it was squishing against her, and it pops out behind her back. "But really, without getting into the, psychotic specifics, I think everyone's got an obligation to suffer the burden of their ancestral past so that they can overcome it. Being 'unrooted', like so many people *try* to be, is basically a spiritual death sentence."

"Really now? And how exactly did you do that?"

    Petra props her knee up to her chest to prepare for storytime. A trio of droplets of morphmetal dart over to the bar, collecting a pair of tiny sandwiches for her as well as another drink for her to go through while chattering.

    "Well, Matilda's right, actually, I did destroy one thing. A bunch of jingoistic wizards from this shithole of a country tried to take a local monument and, like, ritualistically imbue it with the spirit of nationalism to expand the borders of the United States."

    She waves her hand. "I, being the exceptionally talented psychic and anti-Americal devil that I am, targeted it with my psychic power to crush the collective American spirit into the hollow ideological vacuum that it is. Everyone just stopped acknowledging the existence of the country after that."

    "Matilda and a bunch of other people were there to try and stop me, but failed." Which, just like with Ru Li and talking about Hydrochoeria, is a really strange social dynamic to try to convey to someone. "It's a running theme."

    "Oh, but Matilda was so clever, though. We spent the trip looking at rocks and stuff, and going to a museum, and then she divined this whole little scheme to try to destroy my robot."
Petra Soroka "The healer who gave me the concoction in order to make me feel as though I were so, so terribly soft... "

    "Matilda, you *are* so, so, so terribly soft!"

    Possessed by some kind of inarticulate fawning cute-aggression, Petra perches herself on the arm of Matilda's chair to squeeze her bicep with the hand that isn't holding her wine. To Nimue, "She's really got the cutest kind of soft-- like, look at her thighs, see, there? She's got basically the perfect pear shape, and her skin's so soft and pale so she just has this whole-- this whole... gumdrop look to her. It's fucked up that she isn't pulling."

"I will not beg for charity to right it. It merely falls to me as ever to mind you."

    "Maybe, once she has a job for you, she'd do it as a, like, forward on the job payment. So you're at maximum effectiveness. --Oh, those necklaces came off, didn't they?"

"You're just afraid she's going to fall for me."

    For some reason, Petra gets fussy at this. "She has a wife."

"That's for weird inbred freaks who live underground and kidnap virgins!"

    "Exactly! Oh, it is guys, basically. Socially, I mean." It's actually nicer to be near Matilda than it is to be stuck in her own chair, so Petra stays there. Her tail reaches around to shove the back of the chair, shifting both of them closer to the fire. "It's like-- they hate the divine feminine, like, arcane truth of intuition. They hate *hysterical bitches*. It's some rotten stuff."

"I seldom travel back to see them, given the nature of my work, but if you were expecting something exciting, you'll be sorely disappointed."

    That weirdly seems to be a running theme for this cluster of girls too, actually, despite its relative rarity among Elites. Petra glances around to Matilda again, then back to Rosalyn. "Well, sure, not everyone needs some, like, contrived family drama. I think that's true of most of us here-- I barely ever see mine, but, like, sometimes I do. Why *did* you start adventuring then?"

"Present her a ring while you're at it, hm?"

    A little bit flushed and buzzed now, Petra absentmindedly moves her hand from Nimue's onto the top of her head, to scratch her scalp like a dog. To Rosalyn, entirely honest, "Oh, no, I'd be killed if that happens. I'm under a strict no-marriage policy."

"No, he gave it to me as a reminder."

    "To purchase mental real estate~" Petra giggles, co-conspiring in pride. "What's a pair of magic earrings buy out of your so-limited time, one spare thought per day?"

"Well you knooowwwww . . ."

    "How many of those have happened to me before...?" Petra muses, mostly to herself, but perfectly audible to everyone. "At least a few. I've been *forced* into so many clothes, you have no idea. It's dangerous out here."

"Oh, because of, um, my affinity?"

    "What *is* yours, actually? I remember Rosalyn's is... water, ice, and light, which is *so* cute. Matilda's kinda like that too. Crystal type...."
Foundation Scions 'It's *really* the best part of this whole section of Earth.'

    "Second-best! There is an excellent amount of mineral prospecting to do, whilst running about!" She likes rocks! "Otherwise, you are correct! Good job, Petra!" She giggles, and awws, at the mention of the date-location, also-approved! "You are very good at geography!"

'God. *Men*.'
'Men!!!'

    Matilda, distracted-giggly, blurts out "I prefer women!"

'We have to be the change we want to see in the world.'

    "I, too, would like to see that change! In the world!" Is she paying enough attention? Who can say, as she's sipping at mimosas and looking like a dizzy-eye emoji come to life.

'The kind of curse that makes it impossible to wear armour because it strips off your clothes!'

    Whispered, "The Foundation doesn't allow such anti-armor curses to be utilized, despite the obvious utility. On account of the ethics, and image-issues in doing so." Huh. "Altering behavious through arcanum, that must only be done to pacify, and not rile-up. For similar reasons!"

'Matilda, you *are* so, so, so terribly soft!'

    "Hein?! What?! But, I have not been given the concoction! I do not feel as though I have been made into a quilt-comforter!" She looks a little panicked, and jumps where she's seated! Squeezing her bicep doesn't create a bit of surprise, though. She's fine with it! She even follows Petra's prompting, to look at her own thighs, and kinda flex her knees in towards one another. It's definitely not embarrassing!

    "I am not made of candy, Petra!" is still a necessary little scolding! She's perfectly happy with Petra staying near, though. She's been lonely, and it's nice! Getting shoved closer to the fire is an equally acceptable bit of chosen-for-her maneuvering!

'I'm under a strict no-marriage policy.'

    Matilda *gasps*. "Petra! Are you betrothed? Is that the reason for such a policy? Who is it to? Or, or-" She pauses for a moment, and her eyes widen, and she just nods, ominously. "Je comprends, Petra."

'I've been *forced* into so many clothes, you have no idea. It's dangerous out here.'

    Matilda looks right over, close, at Petra, to say, "That has not happened to me! I, shall keep an eye out, and be prepared if the risk rears its head! A diviner should always plan-ahead!"
Lustre Team     'I was recently promoted for deeds requiring my extraordinary talent at divinatory arcanum!'

    "Wowwww~" Nimue croons, drawing greasy little circles with her finger on the arm of her chair. "Divination, huh~? So are you like, an astrologist~? Or some kind of priestess~? That's pretty rare, you know~ If you ever want a job--" "She just told you that she was promoted." Rosalyn groans.

    'Long-term, surely, she will see my...'

    "True! True! Soooo true girl!" Nimue says, "But what's the plan! Come on!" then shouts "There you go! That's a plan!" at the worst idea Matilda has ever had. "You can't just wait! You have to ensnare her in your charm! She's gotta be forced to be around you and focus on nothing but you so that she has to see how beautiful you really are and all your talents and virtues and stuff! It's the combined impact! The impact! You have to sweep her off her feet and make her obsessed!"

    'Hein? Is that the whole of the sentiment..?'

    "I beg your pardon, but it was a long time ago, and I dislike excessive prying into my personal life." says Rosalyn. "I said I needed time to consider it. He left me the necklace so I wouldn't forget to think on it while he was at war. Then he didn't return. That's all you need to know." It's such a weird thing to state with so little sentimentality.

    'Amongst the arcanists of Paris, already so-low a number... I do not think there is such a trend!'

    "Arcanist." Rosalyn seizes on the word, and rolls it around in the bottom of her champaign glass. "Is that the tradition? I'm not familiar, but I'll bet that I can find a close equivalent to a class or job that I know of." "I already made my guess! I bet it's like astrologist or priestess! Oh-- But that is a shame! I love when cities have a whole, y'know, like, theme!" She snaps her fingers. "I knew you were a light type! I can tell! I can tell by listening!"

    'We are so like-minded! Perhaps you were meant to be French!'

    Nimue barely knows what that means, but she blushes, then covers her face, then wiggles back and forth in her chair. "Ohhh . . . Who, me? Oh I couldn't . . . that sounds so fancy, so magical, and I'm really just a common girl. You know? I just wanted to be an adventurer! I don't think I could cut it in House Paris--" "House Bouanich." "Not that I'm not so flattered!"

    'An affinity towards fizziness? That would be something'

    Rosalyn sighs. "Her elemental affinity is acid. It's an uncommon one, especially for a healer, so she always gets like this." "Hey . . ." "Hm? Were you expecting to dance around it forever? I hope you don't plan to stay a nobody girl. I don't have any use for a partner without ambition." "I know, I know! You always say that!"
Lustre Team     'if you go all the way to the ocean, that's basically right where I took Lilian for a night after that whole incident with the Americans.'

    MISSILE. MISSILE. MISSILE. Nimue lunges again and Rosalyn stops her with her outstretched hand to keep her drink safe a second time. "Like a date?! Isn't she married?!" Nimue squeals, loud and effusively approving. "You sly-- um, something other than a dog! Tell me! Tell me all the details! How did you get away with it?!" "Really? Now? You've nagged me so many times to visit her wife and beg for a curse removal already." "That's different! This is girl on girl bonding!"

    'There's just no way she's straight. And, like, every arcanist I've met has been gay-- er, except one.'

    Rosalyn sighs again. "Just the right class for Nimue, then." she says, backflipping back and forth over the line of bisexual ally and barely tolerant WASP like it's a competition. "Don't you give me that look. Put your brows right back where they were."

    'I think everyone's got an obligation to suffer the burden of their ancestral past so that they can overcome it.'

    "Ah! At last!" Rosalyn throws back her head and one hand, suddenly very unclear between whether she's being sarcastic or bitterly sincere. "Someone who speaks sense! Rootlessness is a plague amongst the adventuring masses specifically. No, nothing less than the Blue Moon guild would do."

    "Wow! I don't get it at all but that sounds super impressive!" "So you crushed an entire cabal of disreputable wizards and ended their mad schemes of arcane transcendance and conquest merely out of hatred for their country?" Rosalyn sips the last of her glass, puts it back down, and says, slightly saucily, "You are a 'tyrant heroine', no?"

    'Oh, but Matilda was so clever, though. We spent the trip looking at rocks and stuff, and going to a museum, and then she divined this whole little scheme to try to destroy my robot.'

    "And now you two are besties! Rivals to besties always works! I'm saying this! I'm saying it all the time!" "Thank you for your restraint." Rosalyn says drily to Nimue.

    'She's really got the cutest kind of soft-- like, look at her thighs, see, there?'

    "Mhm, mhm, yeah. Yeah you're right." She's biting her lip. "Pulling?" Moment of hope: gone. "She should be drowning! If you need some tips to keep you busy with practice until Sonetto falls into your lair-of-the-heart, you know who to call~" Sbe wiggles her fingers. What's wrong with her.

    '--Oh, those necklaces came off, didn't they?'

    Rosalyn makes a face. "With effort." she says. So, is the curse talk still contemporary? How?

    'She has a wife.'

    "Deaf ears, I'm afraid." Rosalyn sighs. "Not to matter. She won't get far with it. She's never managed." Nimue looks back, indignantly opens her mouth, glances off to the side, and smushes her lips hastily back together.
Lustre Team     'It's like-- they hate the divine feminine, like, arcane truth of intuition. They hate *hysterical bitches*. It's some rotten stuff.'

    "Two banned words! Bzzt bzzt! Two pay cuts!" Nimue howls on reflex. "Send those moids back to the mines where they belong! They should be toiling away until they die digging up pretty gems for Matilda to wear! They should get crushed in a cave in and be so glad, just so, so happy, their lives meant enough to be a small part of the decorations she wears!"

    'Why *did* you start adventuring then?'

    "It was fate~!" Rosalyn groans. "On a day ordained by the stars, she came to me--" "We met at a royal function by chance. Several adventuring guilds were receiving royal commendations for their service in the war. My family had to be there, but Nimue was so infatuated with the grandiose narrative of adventuring that it turned infectious. We wrote each other for a while." "We did waaaay more than just that~ You're leaving out your cute promise to join the Blue Moons as soon as I did! The very first try, too! That's my Rosa~"

    'Oh, no, I'd be killed if that happens. I'm under a strict no-marriage policy.'

    "Reaaaally? It kind of makes you even hotter though. Or is that the problem~? If you got any more alluring, the girls would eat you alive~"

    'To purchase mental real estate~'

    Rosalyn laughs. Then she looks like she's been tricked into saying something mildly stupid, tinged pink. "Posthumous fondness, at least. But it's easy to be remembered well when you're dead."

    'How many of those have happened to me before...?'

    "None." "I'm telling you! They won't admit it!"

    'I've been *forced* into so many clothes, you have no idea. It's dangerous out here.'

    Nimue suddenly grips her chest hard enough to wad up her tie. "What-- . . . What kind?" she whispers.

    'I remember Rosalyn's is... water, ice, and light, which is *so* cute.'

    "And exceptionally rare."
Lustre Team     'I prefer women!'

    "It's crazy anyone doesn't!"

    'The Foundation doesn't allow such anti-armor curses to be utilized, despite the obvious utility.'

    "I knew it! I knew it I knew it I knew it I knew it knewitknewitknewit!" Nimue is in danger of breaking her chair from bouncing on her knees while gripping the side like that. "They're just keeping it hidden! But there's no ethics or image issues in dungeon! Actually, there aren't even laws there! So it happens!"

    'I am not made of candy, Petra!'

    "But you are so so so so sweet~"
Foundation Scions 'If you need some tips to keep you busy with practice until Sonetto falls into your lair-of-the-heart, you know who to call~'

    "I am a natural talent! Though, practice works-well with natural talent, so, by all means! Tell me your tips! Consider yourself called!" No hesitation! Scary!

'And now you two are besties! Rivals to besties always works!'

    "Hein? My rival is Sonetto- Petra and I got-along prior to that!" A pause, "What were you restrained from?"

'They should be toiling away until they die digging up pretty gems for Matilda to wear!'

    "Ah?! But, I like to find them myself, in the rough, or in gem-sellers markets! It is half of the practice, to stumble across that which is precious, guided by fate and luck, and a keen eye, deft hand, and sharp wit!"

'On a day ordained by the stars, she came to me--'

    "A good reason!"

'We met at a royal function by chance.'

    "Grandeur is meant to be infectious! Stories of heroics, those, of course, create new heroes! I remember hearing-such from mon grand-père, and, as-of now, I am very-much one to 'adventure'!" Sort of. "There is no-one to blame for that matter, Ms. Rosalyn! That, is simply the way of things!"

'We did waaaay more than just that~'

    Matilda covers her mouth to snicker. Of course she snickers.

'I knew it! I knew it I knew it I knew it I knew it knewitknewitknewit!'

    Matilda makes a little startled noise at the intensity of Nimue's bouncing, looks left and right, and then, tongue-between-teeth focused... reaches out an index finger to boop Nimue's forehead. Surely that will work to still her, and save the chair, and thus her, from clatttering to the ground! Surely! It's also such a weird maneuver! Especially for her to then carry-on talking!

    "Quoi? No laws at all? Surely, whatever laws of the lands they are on applies, no?" Matilda then has a thought, it's evident right there in her eyes, as though a lightbulb flashed over her head! The thought should not be spoken! The thought is still obvious to everyone! She pulls the finger off of Nimue's forehead, and puts it to her chin, contemplatively.

'But you are so so so so sweet~'

    "Hein?" Startled, "I am, of course, number one in all things! Such is natural! I am sure I am sweeter than a gum-drop, actually! Surely! Sugar does not compare! What were we speaking of, again?"
Petra Soroka "This is girl on girl bonding!"

    "That's how I do all my bonding," Petra declares, falsely, in a way that will surely skeeve Rosalyn out. Then, for Nimue's actual question, Petra glances around as if someone could be spying in on their conversation.

    "Weeeelll... I can't *gossip* about these kinds of things. That'd be, like, such bad form. I mean, you know, I'm pretty happy with where I'm at, if you know what I mean. But that *was* just our extra, private night out in the woods, after several days on a trip together."

"Petra! Are you betrothed?"

    Petra giggles, and says, hushed over the top of her glass, "Well, *Lilian* made me promise." That's gossip, though.

"Rootlessness is a plague amongst the adventuring masses specifically. No, nothing less than the Blue Moon guild would do."

    "You're gonna fit right in among Elites, then." Petra snickers, cooperatively mean-spirited. "Oh, I mean, because you're already used to the fucking type of slop-people that they are. Don't worry, you're not alone in it."

"You are a 'tyrant heroine', no?"

    Petra leans back in her (and Matilda's) chair, languidly returning her arm to Matilda's shoulders. "I really like 'tyrant heroine'. I think that's the best descriptor of me so far. You should come visit my flying island sometime. It's a trophy from another one of my tyrannical conquests."

"If you need some tips to keep you busy with practice until Sonetto falls into your lair-of-the-heart, you know who to call~"

    Petra finally lowers her voice to *actually* be a whisper, just to say aside to Matilda, "Stay safe."

"We wrote each other for a while."

    "Oh my god?" Taken by surprise by the story, Petra holds her fingers up to her mouth with a gasp, sitting forwards. "Wait, that's so cute? You two are so sweet, actually?"

"It kind of makes you even hotter though. Or is that the problem~?"

    Legs crossed, squeezed into the chair with Matilda, a mixture of attention and alcohol turns Petra's cheeks pink as she inadvisably, smugly, sticks to the bit. "Oh, we're definitely already toeing the lethal line for me just by talking like this. It's been a bit of a problem lately."

"What-- . . . What kind?"

    Petra's mind, for whatever reason, seizes on the nearly four-years-past event of her fight with John Doe. After knocking him out, Petra leveled her gun at his head, and Sarracenia Sundew threw a plushy at her to envelop her in a big stupid onesie. "... Rope."

"And exceptionally rare."

    Airily like approval, as a peer, Petra adds, "I was, I think, the most naturally talented psychic ever taken in by my-- school, at the time that I was. I broke the equipment they had to measure it."
Petra Soroka "We will bond, and all-else, it will be history! Petra's advice, is quite handy, surely!"

    "That's true. That's right. My success," Physical proximity to Matilda, especially while tipsy, has started to make Matilda's speech patterns infect Petra a little bit. She slides down from her perch on the arm of Matilda's chair, to instead wedge in beside her on the cushion, draping her arm across Matilda's shoulders.

    "It's visible to anyone who's paying attention. And you're so good at paying attention." Petra lowers her voice, like she's confessing to a crime, which technically she is.

    "Hey, Matilda-- I could use your help with something, actually. I've got a spell, a diagnostic spell, that I need your help retooling a little bit. And in exchange, I can get you a love potion recipe."

"Altering behavious through arcanum, that must only be done to pacify, and not rile-up."

    Petra gently lays her finger against Matilda's lips. "Shhh. Remember. It's okay if you drink it yourself."

"Or was it because of the streetlamps..?"

    "I think it was the streetlamps...? But it's also, like, the enlightenment. But Paris is such a pretty-- I've never been to Paris, I think. How long's it been, since you went back?"

"The Moon, her light is so useful to lens through crystal quartz, in order to beckon-forth visions!"

    Petra leans her head against Matilda's shoulder fondly, looking out past the charcoal fire to the mountains. "I wonder if you could do divinations from the moonlight through the Beauty of Ash... wouldn't that be so nice? I love crystals."

"She's gotta be forced to be around you and focus on nothing but you so that she has to see how beautiful you really are and all your talents and virtues and stuff!"

    Petra raises her glass up in enthusiastic approval, and her tail thwap-thwaps between Matilda and the side of the chair. It's, actually, notably 'fizzy' too, but as a physical sensation instead. "Yeah! That's how you do it! That's how you get it done!"

"I'm not familiar, but I'll bet that I can find a close equivalent to a class or job that I know of."

    Petra decides this is a question for her to answer instead of Matilda, because Rosalyn said it, and Rosalyn's the one who's capable of listening to Adult Opinions. "Oh, it's more of a race thing. But, like, not really, because they look identical and can-- interbreed. Wow that was the wrong word."

    She waves her hand back and forth in front of her face. "Some people can do magic there, and some can't, and it's way more common than it was on my world, but still kinda rare. So there's whole social roles about it. It's basically, like, women 2."

"Her elemental affinity is acid."

    If Nimue had just out and stated it, then Petra probably would've moved on, but her unusual skittishness towards the topic makes Petra *way* more interested. She shifts around, squiggling against Matilda to lean off the arm of the chair.

    "Just the one? So what's that mean, in practice? Are your healing spells... acid-aligned? Or do you just have an easier time with acid-based stuff?"
Foundation Scions 'So are you like, an astrologist~? Or some kind of priestess~?'

    "A diviner! That is the term! Of celestial movements, through crystal, but, there is no different term needed, as all diviners, they have their own methods, most of them unique!" Matilda, who has many jobs, too many, in fact, asks- "What sort of job?"

'It's the combined impact! The impact! You have to sweep her off her feet and make her obsessed!'

    Giggly-dreamy, "I am sure I will do exactly that!"

'Arcanist' 'Is that the tradition?'

    "Non, non- it is a species! I, for instance, am an arcanist, though, most people of the world- my world, that is, are human? Some are other things, that would take longer to explain! Arcanists, they weave and create arcanum! Magic, is the term you are using? But, arcanum is the term considered more-proper!" She shoulda brought her lecture materials! She did bring her lecture tone.

'Well, *Lilian* made me promise.'

    More wide-eyed ooh-ing.

'Oh I couldn't . . . that sounds so fancy, so magical, and I'm really just a common girl.'

    Quizzical expression, "The country of France has many common girls! Please do not worry! Not all can be a Bouanich- very few can, but, Paris, it is still a very large place! Full of adventures, and catacombs!"

'Her elemental affinity is acid. It's an uncommon one, especially for a healer, so she always gets like this.'

    "Oh! Comme c'est super! Acid, such as, those of alchemical solvents, and things to break bindings, and catalyze matters? What is to be embarrassed over? Does your arcanum- er, element, feel 'fizzy' to express? No, tell me in your words how it feels! Je suis curieux!" She leans forward, eagerly awaiting the answers! She wants them!

'I really like 'tyrant heroine'. I think that's the best descriptor of me so far.'

    And then she leans back, content to kind of just snuggle up against Petra, seemingly automatically, with the arm across her shoulder. "I would prefer to not use that one on reports regarding you to the Foundation, Petra! I think they would get-" Well, not the wrong idea. She hmmms, wiggles around a bit, taps the crystal of her mimosa glass on the armrest, and adds, "It would look better for you if I did not repeat it. You would risk losing your job as dog!"

'Stay safe.'

    Whispered back, vaguely sleepy-automatic, reassuring, "Do not worry! I am always prepared." Hm!

'Hey, Matilda-- I could use your help with something, actually.'

    "Ah! Yes! I would very-much be able to assist such a spell! You are asking the correct arcanist, and will not be dissapointed!" Working on a spell is as much of a payment! But, a love potion, that has her having ideas again-

'Shhh. Remember.'

    "-Oh, je vois. I remember." Scary. For a moment at the finger-on-her-lips, Matilda, automatically, almost bares teeth?

'I wonder if you could do divinations from the moonlight through the Beauty of Ash... wouldn't that be so nice? I love crystals.'

    "Ah! Yes, I am sure I could! And, we would have to dance to catch the visions as they flit-about, refracted through and through! Oh, Petra! You have excellent ideas! Surely it would work! Surely!"

    Humming, excited, and wriggling about in the chair a little, she sticks her arms upwards at the sky, palms-up, "What manner of visions they would be! Those of running, and instinct, scattered-so through something that large? Quelle merveilleuse... I can almost picture it! Constellations on the forest-floor to run through, under the moon-light..." Who said anything about a forest?
Lustre Team     'Consider yourself called!'

    Rosalyn begins shaking her head. Nimue stares at her. "No." "What? She asked." "You're not giving her tips. She has her whole life ahead of her."

    'What were you restrained from?'

    "Oh, you know." "Being rude to our host."

    'It is half of the practice, to stumble across that which is precious, guided by fate and luck, and a keen eye, deft hand, and sharp wit!'

    "Then they should be carrying you! On a palanquin! Until they die!"

    'Grandeur is meant to be infectious! Stories of heroics, those, of course, create new heroes! I remember hearing-such from mon grand-père, and, as-of now, I am very-much one to 'adventure'!'

    Rosalyn stares off into the distance, and says little more than "Mh." Nimue continues in her strangely avoidant stead. "We spent all~ day~ Together~ And when I told her I was gonna become an adventurer, she was like, 'Oh! Me too! Actually, did you know I was already in training?' It was so cute!" Rosalyn is too spaced out staring at the mountains to even respond to Matilda's snickering. Nimue gets away with a big wink.

    'Quoi? No laws at all? Surely, whatever laws of the lands they are on applies, no?'

5tShe stares, lightly baffled, at Matilda's finger, until she has to go crosseyed to see it at her forehead. Then, Nimue leans right over the chair and prods Matilda in the cheek. "Boop~!" She giggles about it too. "The term 'dungeon' already implies a legal gray area. Often, they're ancient ruins, or places of magical power, where sovreignty is contested, or else unknown, and they cannot be occupied, nor does anyone wish to."

    'Sugar does not compare! What were we speaking of, again?'

    "Your pefect skin and soft squishy thighs." Nimue blurts out, utterly shameless.

    'Hey, Matilda-- I could use your help with something, actually. I've got a spell, a diagnostic spell, that I need your help retooling a little bit. And in exchange, I can get you a love potion recipe.'

    "Hey!! Love potion?! Spell?!" "Oh gods not this again. I need another drink." "Okay then you do that! Shush so I can hear! Who are we diagnosing? Is Petra a sexy doctor too?! Do you wanna trade love potion recipes?"

    'Shhh. Remember. It's okay if you drink it yourself.'

    Her eyes go wide. This drives the breath right ouf Nimue's chest. "You're a genius." she whispers.

    'That's how you do it! That's how you get it done!'

    "I'll even prove it! I'll put the moves on Mina the Halberd Witch when she gets here!" Rosalyn sits bolt upright. "You will not! Don't you have any idea how hard I have to work to compete for the competent ones?!" "Hard with the guildmistress all night long~" "Silence! Shut! I'm serious!" "I've said a biiiillion times before I'll help!"

    'Oh, it's more of a race thing. But, like, not really, because they look identical and can-- interbreed.'

    Both of them double takes at Matilda now. It's so transparent they're searching her for any kind of stupid little fantasy racial tell. "It's a normal word."
Lustre Team     'Some people can do magic there, and some can't, and it's way more common than it was on my world, but still kinda rare. So there's whole social roles about it. It's basically, like, women 2.'

    "How perfectly strange." Rosalyn says, momentarily captivated. "Magic infuses every aspect of our lives so thoroughly that I can't even imagine being without it. Still, if it were so, I can imagine why one would grow to jealously resent it. The poor, crippled things." "Yeah I'm actually with Rosa on this one? That's just so weird. How do they do anything without magic? What happens if you get a papercut?" "I imagine they spit on it."

    'Just the one? So what's that mean, in practice? Are your healing spells... acid-aligned? Or do you just have an easier time with acid-based stuff?'

    Nimue laughs nervously. Her unwholesome intensity is somehow completely absent when she glances side to side like that and actually keeps her personal distance. "One is normal! Most people have just the one. It's just Rosa who's so amazing, you know? I'm not anyone special. Um, and it's, kinda both? There's-- oh gosh, um, gee, uh, there's a whole complicated, like, belief system, about, how affinities come from, or, predict, or, are informed by? Your, like, traits. As a person. As, like, the lens that you're filtering the focus of the world through, and-- It's complicated! The healing just stings a little sometimes! It works fine!"

    'That's how I do all my bonding'

    Rosalyn rolls her eyes? Does she think it's a joke?

    'I mean, you know, I'm pretty happy with where I'm at, if you know what I mean. But that *was* just our extra, private night out in the woods, after several days on a trip together.'
    'Well, *Lilian* made me promise.'

    Nimue throws herself back and forth in her chair so violently that Matilda is whipped with heir hair and the hingest creak almost as loud as her "AHHHH! THAT'S SO-- THAT'S INCREDIBLE! YOU'RE LIVING THE-- THEY SHOULD WRITE BOOKS ABOUT YOU!!" Rosalyn has to take two tries to shout "Quiet down! I was just able to relax for once, until you started shouting!" This causes Nimue to flop down into her chair, which tips almost all the way back over, then rights itself from her weight. "Gods. You haven't even seen her. I looked her up and I would kill someone for the privilege of gagging on her cock." Rosalyn only has time to indignantly open her mouth before Nimue claps both hands over her mouth and strains out "Oh no no I hope that wasn't offensive! Oh I'm so sorry!" to Petra?

    'Oh, I mean, because you're already used to the fucking type of slop-people that they are. Don't worry, you're not alone in it.'

    "Hmph. Freeholders." Rosalyn says, just like 'men'. "They are what they are. Surely some of them will prove useful; or at least entertaining." Is she on her third glass now. She just loves posing by the fire with a crystal glass. She looks like she's straight off a romance novel cover. "As for your flying island--" "Come see her trophies of conquest . . ." "I would be happy to."

    'Wait, that's so cute? You two are so sweet, actually?'

    "She is!" "She has her moments." Nimue grins digustingly wide at Rosalyn, who tries to hide her embarrassment in her drink.
Lustre Team     'Oh, we're definitely already toeing the lethal line for me just by talking like this.'

    "I'll be gentle~" Nimue giggles, bubbly-drunk despite consuming absolutely no alcohol.

    '... Rope.'

    "Hot."

    'I was, I think, the most naturally talented psychic ever taken in by my-- school, at the time that I was. I broke the equipment they had to measure it.'

    Rosalyn still doesn't really get what 'psychic' is, but decides it must be close enough. "Really? Well, most success is destined in hindsight. I wouldn't be surprised if you could muster a dual-element score at all."

    'What sort of job?'

    "Adventuring! What else?! Us against the world! Sleeping under the moon and the stars! Deciphering ancient runes and appraising long-lost magical artifacts~!"

    'But, arcanum is the term considered more-proper!'

    "'Arcanum' refers to a specific school of magic where I come from." Rosalyn says, patient, helpful, still somehow superior. "It would be impolite to use in the company of an accomplished druid or soulbinder."

    'The country of France has many common girls! Please do not worry! Not all can be a Bouanich- very few can, but, Paris, it is still a very large place! Full of adventures, and catacombs!'

    Nimue smiles. She gets an oddly misty look in her eyes, and slumps down so her chin is on the arm of her chair. "You kinda remind me of Rosa when she was little."

    'Oh! Comme c'est super! Acid, such as, those of alchemical solvents, and things to break bindings, and catalyze matters?'

    Matilda did it. The great Matilda Bouanich made Nimue blush. "H-huh? Oh, well, yeah! There's nothing wrong with it! O-obviously! It's just, y'know, people are always obsessed with their light and water healers; even wind healers! It's just an excuse for them to complain about me." She's reduced to restless squirming, in fact. "It feels, like, haha, Idunno, um, like-- like a fizzy drink when your throat is all goopy! Like the little sting that makes you know the disinfectant is working on your rash, y'know? The kind that feels sorta kinda good? It's like you can feel all the old stuff peeling off and everything underneath is so soft and new. Like you can just scour off all the gross stuff that the world is always pushing on you and there's this bright, shiny, pure, beautiful thing that you're trying to get at, that you can almost touch, and it's just, there, but you can't touch it, because if you do you'll make it dirty again and foul it all up, so you just, know', admire it by the sting of getting rid of everything else."

    ". . . Sorry, h-haha. That was kinda stupid! I'm gonna shut up now."

    'Do not worry! I am always prepared.'

    "Do be sure to remain un-seduced by various dark seductresses." Rosalyn says, smoothly taking over for Nimue, in her own way, for reasons that are inscrutable and make Nimue blush.
Foundation Scions 'No.'
'What? She asked.'

    High-pitched, "No? What do you mean, no? I did ask! I want the tips! I have my whole life ahead to plan-out, preferably, with all fore-knowledge, and, as many tips as I can gather! Please do not speak for me!"

'Then they should be carrying you! On a palanquin! Until they die!'

    Matilda considers this, picks up her mimosa, stares into the little refraction-glimmers of its glass (or crystal), and says, "But then the palanquin would fall, and I would tumble-out, and be at risk of bumping my head! It should be a pull-cart instead. Yes!"

'Boop~!'

    "Ah!" She's gotten got! She tilts her head to the poked-cheek side, trying to free herself of the boop, and then, boops Nimue again?! Matilda Bouanich must have the last laugh, or something like that! She giggles, too.

    Possibly to Rosalyn, but staring right at Nimue, "A face cannot be occupied..." What does she mean by this?

'Your pefect skin and soft squishy thighs.'

    Matilda goes 'Oh!' and then sort-of rolls around, where she's sitting in the chair, bunched-up against Petra. "C'est vrai, je suis parfait, et un excellent sujet..." A little whinier, "How come it is so obvious to you, but not Sonetto? Perhaps she is in need of tips, in how to look at others! You are better at it!" Then, looking down at herself a bit, and pouting, "Surely, it is not the jupe-culottes! Is my perfect fashion the issue? What does she like..."

'Do you wanna trade love potion recipes?'

    Matilda rapidly swaps between looking at Nimue, and at Petra- hushed, "Whose recipe is better?"

'I imagine they spit on it.'

    "They do not do that! The protocol, is to place, a goo that kills infectants, upon it, and then to cover it up. Spitting is obsolete."

'As, like, the lens that you're filtering the focus of the world through, and-- It's complicated!'

    Piping in, lolled over a little bit, very-much in the spirit of lazy tipsy drowning, Matilda adds, "You both speak of it as if it is quite important! That makes sense, very-much so! C'est normal!" The magic-liking, superstitious diviner arcanist, thinks that lensed aspects to focus through, sounds normal! Fork found in kitchen!

'As for your flying island--'

    "It is up very high, and the bridges are made of rope!" Yayyy. She's drunk.

'Well, most success is destined in hindsight.'

    "Non, les succès sont *pré*destinés."

'Adventuring! What else?'

    Blinking, and maybe not having remembered the rest of the conversational line, "I would like to 'adventure'! I have not yet been given a chance to appraise an artifact, but, surely, I will do so very well at it! And under the Moon, that is an excellent place to be! Youpi! J'accepte!"

'It would be impolite to use in the company of an accomplished druid or soulbinder.'

    Gumpy-slouchy, and pouting, leaned up against the arm rest, "I've met a druid who had no-problem with 'arcanum' as a term. Hmph."
Foundation Scions 'It feels, like, haha, Idunno, um, like-- like a fizzy drink when your throat is all goopy!'

    Matilda enthusiastically almost-hisses a "Oui! Yesss! Like your arcane signature, exactement!" She wriggles up so she's leaning against the armrest of her (and Petra's) chair in order to listen more focused-ly! "Like, the chemical processes, sometimes-used to treat and cleanse gem-stones, that leave harsh, perfect finishes somewhat inappropriate for all but the show-floor behind glass, too?" That's taking it out of the context of healing, though. Matilda hmmms, again.

    "Je vois! Je sais!" She's also squirming! "You can still hear it hiss and bubble in the cleaning-basin, and see its result once the rock-tumblers are opened again! And the curatives..." She nods, enraptured in the flow-of-thought tone of the explanation. "It certainly sounds to be special, when you talk of it! Superbe..."

'I'm gonna shut up now.'

    Matilda tries to waggle a finger, on the hand she's just picked up a mimosa with, and then puts it down, to belated waggle her finger- "Please do the opposite of that! Please speak more!"

'Do be sure to remain un-seduced by various dark seductresses.'

    "Pardonnez-moi?"
Petra Soroka     It's actually very nice to snuggle up against Matilda like this. Petra gravitated towards her mostly out of unconscious fondness and animalistic warmth-seeking, but now that she's squeezed into the chair with her, the sustained physical contact is as warmly relaxing as it always is for Petra. Her tail wraps around Matilda's waist and squeezes, warm like the top of a dryer and fizzing with insubstantial static pops.

"Not all can be a Bouanich- very few can,"

    "Sonetto can. She's gonna be."

"How come it is so obvious to you, but not Sonetto?"

    Petra just reaches down to stick her hand between Matilda's legs and squeeze her thighs affectionately, sighing enviously as she does. "And you can still feel the muscles under there... my thighs used to be this soft, but then I started doing *combat*. If you got your cute little thighs around her face, either she'd go to town or she's not human. Or, a person. You know what I mean."

"You would risk losing your job as dog!"

    "Oh, that's true. I've gotta be soooo careful with my presentation around Laplace...." Petra whines and rubs her cheek against Matilda's shoulder. Skipping several thoughts, she sighs mournfully. "I don't wanna get abandoned at the shelter."

"I am always prepared."

    Petra nods knowingly, rubbing Matilda's back with her eyes closed. "Condom in the wallet and emergency contact one tap away. Go with god."

"-Oh, je vois. I remember."

    Without any hesitation, the moment Matilda's teeth are showing, Petra slips her thumb into Matilda's mouth to gently scrape the pad against her canine. "Yeah, see? No one's going to jail here. We're all good girls."

"Who are we diagnosing? Is Petra a sexy doctor too?!"

    "No, I wasn't the one who performed the surgery." As smugly subtle as Petra thinks she's being, this also immediately answers the question of who this is about. "I'm just the researcher behind it. Every day Mesmer cries herself to sleep wishing she was me."

"Whose recipe is better?"

    "Haven't tried mine yet. --Wait, Nimue, do you really have one?"

"YOU'RE LIVING THE-- THEY SHOULD WRITE BOOKS ABOUT YOU!!"

    "Well, they write something about me." Unfortunately for Petra, she already knows that Nimue knows, and letting Nimue know that she knows can only make it worse.

    Then she double-takes and startles upright, staring at Nimue with wide eyes and a confused expression. The first thought-- apologizing to her on Lilian's behalf, for talking about that so openly-- is the much scarier one that makes her stiffen, but the second thought that comes after that one's been challenged and drained away is weird in a different way. She snorts and turns her head to the side, half-covering up a blush with her fourth (now slowly nursed) cocktail.

    "Jesus Christ. Uh-- no, it's-- it's alright," Lamely, as Petra realizes she has no idea actually how to engage with this. "I don't mind."
Petra Soroka "Hard with the guildmistress all night long~"

    Okay, like, not actually though, right? Surely not. Rosalyn managed to stick consistently to 'he' through two exchanges about her dead, nameless, uninteresting lover-hopeful, and so Petra's inclined to believe her. It's kind of, like, *gauche* not to, and it's not really like Petra has much stake in the alternative.

    "But like, what work actually did you do? With the Guildmistress?"

"Magic infuses every aspect of our lives so thoroughly that I can't even imagine being without it."

    "I can." Petra sighs, thoughtful and on a down-beat of her mood, to take the topic seriously. Even when-- especially when-- talking about her power as 'magic', she's still not operating in the same social landscape as the ones who were comfortably born into it and loved it all their life.

    "I lost mine for a long time; my own fault. It's... sort of tied to my mental state, so it got weaker and weaker over time until I lost it. So I guess the answer is just that I did everything worse, and was angrier about it." She shrugs one shoulder, the one opposite Matilda to not disturb her. "Not that that makes me any more sympathetic to the human position on it. I think they should be lined up against the wall and shot."

"I wouldn't be surprised if you could muster a dual-element score at all."

    "Maybe. That'd be nice." She sounds sentimental, rather than dismissive about it. Petra idly scritches the base of Matilda's head at the back of her hairline, warmly forming positive associations with the smell of her so close to her. It makes her feel, just by default, a lot more sappy about magic.

    "Where I grew up, I never really had a 'specialization' at all. My real talent wasn't anything I was proud of at the time, and I didn't have the same kind of, um, discrete and expressive wishes that everyone else did, so I mostly came across as if I was barely a psychic at all. Now I'm fine with it, but it does mean I missed the whole period of my life where my magic would've been studied or categorized at all."

"You kinda remind me of Rosa when she was little."

    "Childhood friends...." Petra plants her cheek on her palm, watching Rosalyn and Nimue with faintly misty eyes. Then she grabs Matilda's wrist and rubs her face into her hand, inarticulately affectionate. ""You're all so cute. I love childhood friends. They're so, so precious."

"There's-- oh gosh, um, gee, uh, there's a whole complicated, like, belief system, about, how affinities come from, or, predict, or, are informed by?"

    "Oh, yeah, yeah! I get it! It's like... pattern cosmology, or star signs. I mean, it's your tool. It's the *material* of your tool. How could it not say something about you? That'd be so boring, right? So I wanna know, I wanna know."
Petra Soroka "Like the little sting that makes you know the disinfectant is working on your rash, y'know? The kind that feels sorta kinda good?"

    "Oh!!! Yes!" Petra starts getting excited about Nimue's explanation, sitting up and clapping her hands together. She seems mystified about the glass in her hand preventing her from doing this, so she downs the rest of the cocktail and levitates it away with her Silver. "I love the smell of disinfectant. And bleach. You're so pretty." That's not really the virtue being discussed here.

    "It's like, you know, polishing a diamond, and..." Matilda, the rock-knower, gets to it first and more eloquently, causing Petra to squeal with delight. "Exactly!" She kicks her feet and rolls halfway over towards Matilda, hugging her and pinching all the soft spots of her arms and face.

    Returning to Nimue, Petra gets as serious as her BAC allows her to be. "No, it's not stupid. It's not. See, it's like... so much about a human being is bullshit. And every... people like to think of self-improvement like it's always adding things on, but just as often, it's cutting things away. There's so much cruft built up around everything and it drives me so insane, but you can hope that, like, at the center, there's something worth having there, right? It's the kindest way to think. Or, I don't know if I know any kinder ways. I'd hide a body with you."

"And, we would have to dance to catch the visions as they flit-about, refracted through and through!"

    During the talk about the Beauty of Ash, Petra fondly runs her hand down Matilda's hair. "You know, the Beauty of Ash is kind of, like, just the stripped down beautiful core of... everything. It's, like, skinless, but so gentle, and sharp. I wonder, even though it's made of light, whether it's kind of like acid...?"

"What manner of visions they would be!"

    "But I just love light so much too...." Increasingly nonsensical, Petra feels like she's floating on some soft, interconnected cloud with all of her club-mates. The bonds of girlhood are so, so strong, and magic is such an important thing to bind them, and everyone gets along so well too.

    A little bit teary-eyed, Petra wraps her arms around Matilda in a longer, lingering hug, and then pulls away to give her a kiss on top of her head. "You're so sweet Matilda. You're so cute. I'm really happy that you get along with her as much as you do, it makes me really happy. We should do that sometime, definitely. And I've gotta show Nimue and Rosalyn her too, 'cause everyone deserves to see."
Lustre Team     'Please do not speak for me!'

    Nimue makes a series of hand-signs and loudly implied mouth-shapes that are all sort of pointless foreplay to her getting out her phone.

    'It should be a pull-cart instead. Yes!'
    'Sonetto can. She's gonna be.'

    It's amazing that someone can giggle that intoxicatedly without having a drop. It's like she can absorb it from the others.

    'A face cannot be occupied...'

    "No no, a dungeon. Dun-geon." "You got this Matilda!"

    'How come it is so obvious to you, but not Sonetto?'

    "Perhaps she simply isn't interested, and that is that." first says Rosalyn, only for the conversation to continue on, which makes her unconsciously lean in her chair until she's in Nimue's space, and Petra talking about getting Matilda's thighs around Sonetto's face just feels so strangely endearing after three glasses that she sighs and tries again. "Perhaps she is very preoccupied. It's just as natural to not notice the beautiful roses in the garden or the perfect weather outside when one's mind is plagued with heavy burdens. You would be surprised in what ways that weighty responsibility makes one . . . spacey." Nimue, oddly, smiles a little bit, slooowly leans up against Rosalyn, and keeps her mouth shut.

    'Whose recipe is better?'
    'Haven't tried mine yet. --Wait, Nimue, do you really have one?'

    "Yeah~" Nimue giggles. "Wanna try swapsies~? Same time~"

    'They do not do that! The protocol, is to place, a goo that kills infectants, upon it, and then to cover it up. Spitting is obsolete.'

    Rosalyn scoffs. Nimue laughs.

    'Youpi! J'accepte!'

    "Youpi!" Nimue goes to throw her arms in the air, then realizes that'd bop Rosalyn, and settles for snuggling back into her instead; chastely separated by the arms of both chairs, in as much as that does anything but makes her back hurt.

    'I'm just the researcher behind it. Every day Mesmer cries herself to sleep wishing she was me.'

    Nimue, who has no idea who Mesmer is, says "Well if you ever need some willing test subjects, call me~" She's had a phone for a week and is already doing the thing with her hand.

    'I don't wanna get abandoned at the shelter.'

    "Noooo! Don't get abandoned! That's not okay! You're so cute! I'd adopt you."

    'You both speak of it as if it is quite important!'
    'Oh, yeah, yeah! I get it! It's like... pattern cosmology, or star signs.'

    "It is considered to be important, far and wide." Rosalyn says, emphatic on 'is', patiently neutral on the rest. "The most common thought is that one's physical, mental, and spiritual attributes are intertwined in a way that creates natural ease for the flow of magics. Light, as an example, since it keeps coming up, is commonly associated with those capable of strong and unwavering beliefs, who overcome challenges surprisingly, by code or faith or bonds or dogma, expressing purity of conviction." "Yeah. And acid makes everyone say I'm sneaky and fake and I must be doing something secretly bad whenever they're mad at me." "The more civil interpretation is that it announces one who knows how to seize and capitalize upon opportunity."
Lustre Team     'I've met a druid who had no-problem with 'arcanum' as a term. Hmph.'

    Placated, Nimue turns up her head to face almost nose to nose with Rosalyn and says "Isahane didn't mind that one time." "She doesn't seem to mind anything you do or say. I genuinely don't believe she understands the situation she is in." "Maybe it's a heavy burden~ Like you said~ She is Semi-S." "No, no, none of that. I happen to like her strange monofocus." "I like that she's six feet tall and has horns~ Did you know one time she talked to me about wolves for three hours?"

    'But like, what work actually did you do? With the Guildmistress?'

    Rosalyn sighs, brushing a wavy lock of hair out of her face, and coming this close to resting her chin on the top of Nimue's head. "Negotiations of contract, a mention here and there of investments, thorough reports for all of our operations and expenses, reparations for this girl's mistakes, organizing social functions, meeting our noble and 'classier' clients to put a good face to the guild; all kinds of things." she says, tired-defensive.

    'I lost mine for a long time; my own fault. It's... sort of tied to my mental state, so it got weaker and weaker over time until I lost it.'

    Nimue thinks she understands. Her face goes pale while Petra continues on. She even keeps her mouth tightly shut while Rosalyn says "Excuse me. Some of your company, may I remind you, is human." Nimue is also just not correct about it. Or, she is, kind of?

    'Jesus Christ. Uh-- no, it's-- it's alright. I don't mind.'

    "Oh-- Oh thank gods, ha, haha . . ." she laughs in relief, clutching her chest and uttering a big, theatrical 'phew!'. "I'm always so worried about that kinda thing, but it's so scary to ask! There's only a couple at the guild, and they're so skittish sometimes; like, obviously I'm gonna worry about them before that, right?" Nimue thus succeeds at advancing further into Petra's personal life than anyone who isn't fucking her.

    'Childhood friends....'

    Nimue goes "Yeah!" Rosalyn sighs and rolls her amethyst eyes, but smiles, still, somehow less drunk than Nimue, but only just. "Nimue is the only one I keep in touch with from those days." "Lots and lots in touch~" "We get along well enough. And more important, by far, we live interesting lives." "Heeee~!"
Lustre Team     'Je vois! Je sais!'
    'Oh!!! Yes!'
    'harsh, perfect finishes somewhat inappropriate for all but the show-floor behind glass'
    'I love the smell of disinfectant. And bleach. You're so pretty.'
    'You can still hear it hiss and bubble in the cleaning-basin, and see its result once the rock-tumblers are opened again! And the curatives...'
    ' And every... people like to think of self-improvement like it's always adding things on, but just as often, it's cutting things away. There's so much cruft built up around everything and it drives me so insane'
    'It certainly sounds to be special, when you talk of it! Superbe...'
    'Or, I don't know if I know any kinder ways. I'd hide a body with you.'

    Nimue freezes like a deer in the headlights at the utterly unprecedented bombardment of understanding and praise she gets for the one delirious little babble-ramble she'd actually thought important to apologize. Then she starts nervously laughing, then subtly bouncing while turning red, then pressing her hands into her face and wiggling back and forth whilst alternating between high-pitched monotones and incoherent squealing. When she burbles "Thank you so much you're both so pretty and I love you so much and you really get it and you're so beautiful on the inside and I would kill myself if you told me to and!" Rosalyn reaches around her to gently push aside one hand and ostensibly wipe away tears? Like she's done this before? Which makes Nimue laugh again!

    'You're so sweet Matilda. You're so cute. I'm really happy that you get along with her as much as you do, it makes me really happy. We should do that sometime, definitely. And I've gotta show Nimue and Rosalyn her too, 'cause everyone deserves to see.'

    "She's a person?" "Made of crystals? How fantastical. No no, how interesting. Tell me more." The moment that 'the Beauty of Ash' clicks as someone, putting sappy romantic perspective to Matilda's dreams of dancing around in the crystal light, Rosalyn settles in head-to-head with Nimue, and both watch with rapt attention.