Chapter Text
“And you’re certain this is not some petty trick? Long enough have we been vexed by their kind to trust one word of their lie-ridden pacts and promises.” Venom dripped from the gruff, but baroquely dignified voice that broke the silent darkness of the ruined country-house. Hours had gone by before the grievance was aired, but it had been well on the mind of all present. The wood of the foundation ached as the once painfully still atmosphere broke down.
A similar noble tone retorted from the unseen crowd of lesser aristocrats in the shadows of the estate: “I sense little on the wind…. All is quiet, save us. We’ve nothing to fear. If they betray us, so be it; They cannot hope to best us all.”
Another continued the sentiment. “I pray they think themselves so cunning; their blood will please our lady well.”
A few grunts and hums of agreement rumbled about the shaded aristocrats, when a youngling of the brood voiced their desires. “T’would be so troublesome to carry them alive to her Majesty though... Best not to waste the opportunity and simply drain them here. There’s enough to go around I’m sure.”
The most displeased among them, he who had first voiced the shared concern of the many, spat in disgust at the notion. “You forget your place, stripling! Without her you are nothing, and as such, you will render unto her what she deserves.” From the shadows, the voice was given form with two heavy footfalls. “Now mind your tongue, for I will suffer no lapses in decorum during this affair.” The dark sabatons, cleaned yet weathered and worn, were all that emerged from the shadows, save for the reflective and baleful light of the figure's eyes. “Should you fail to do so, I shall see your shoulders relieved of the empty vessel that sits atop them!”
With this declaration, any whispers of shared agreement with the ‘stripling’ quickly died out. A crowd of deathly stares were pointed toward the initial offender who spoke out of turn. The surrounding vampires urged them to make amends through shoves, pushing them forth. Hushed reminders of the price to be paid for even hinting at anything even adjacent to sedition sank their long still heart. “B-But of course, Lord Zrinski. I’d never think to knowingly disrespect her grace!” The loose lipped vampire was a foppish looking sort, but less so than most of his peers; a fledgling in appearance and age. “It was absent minded selfishness that spurred the suggestion, nothing more! You know of course how hunger clouds the vision of weaker ones such as I!” Excuses and self deprecations were standard fare when challenged by a clear superior of the brood, with the offending party now beginning to prostrate themself.
Another voice interjected and stepped between the half kneeling broodling and the more heavily armored and armed lord. The woman’s words were preceded with controlled chuckles, and her tone made it clear she was born of great self-importance, even when compared to the other noble-like beings present. “Oh get up Marcell. You look even more pathetic than usual, and we’ve hardly the time to stroke one another's ego.” In a billowing dress of crimson and white, the intervening lady spun deftly to face Lord Zrinski. “Nikolai, dear brother of mine, you lose your temper all too quickly.” The sound of her approach across the cobwebbed and otherwise dusty room was marked by the clacking of her heels and the groans of the wood beneath. A hand fell upon Nikolai’s shoulder, and the woman continued to speak more broadly. “I can assure you, all of you, that I’ve arranged this meeting all in assurance that it will serve us well. There’ll be no need to draw blades or bare fangs tonight.” Her attention turned more directly back to Nikolai. “And for one to make a point of not appearing rude to our guests, you should be sure to remember as Her most beloved offspring that we need to set a good example, correct?” A resigned sigh escaped Nikolai’s lips. There was no use arguing, for his sister had the right of it, and so he channeled his anger and excess energy into incessant pacing.
Again, all was calm for a brief spell, when the wind howled unnaturally through the abandoned structure. None of the brood present were magically inclined, but as beings of the night, there was no mistaking the shift in the atmosphere; Something wicked this way came, between warped oak and pine and over the dying earth as winter began to take hold over the land once again. With this ill wind came a slamming door, but no sooner did it close did the rusty handles turn delicately, and the winds yawned openly into the foyer once more. In the previously empty frame, two cloaked figures became clear in the moonlight, and the brood’s reflective eyes were upon them expectantly. Like crones of myth, the new arrivals cackled and chuckled before they began to speak, both sharing a very similar voice, and a penchant for finishing each other's thoughts.
In unison they began, “A gathering most garish!” Their jest was ill received, and the leftmost crone continued, the other picking up her statements without missing a beat. “Have we under-dressed,” “For this most auspicious encounter?” And then together, “Lady Nádasdy?”
The addressed Lady, sister to Nikolai, stepped forth. She daintily pushed past the ‘rabble’ and her lesser siblings. “Please, Katalin will do just fine. The trappings of nobility are merely a… heartfelt reminder of what power we used to hold.”
Nikolai interrupted her train of thought with his own sentiment, “Power we will hold again soon, if your initial offers were more than just lures and empty promises.” Katalin cleared her throat annoyedly at her elder sibling. A squinting glare reminded Nikolai that his place was not at the negotiating table. Rolling eyes and crossed arms left Nikolai postured as a watchdog over the rest of the proceedings.
“As I was saying, there is little need to lose ourselves in noble frivolity. We’ve business to discuss.” An open palm extended, and held outward toward the crones accompanied Katalin’s devilishly inviting gaze. “You approached me with a promise of power in exchange for services rendered. You’ve a task you cannot complete by your hand, and so you look to us, yes?”
The twin witches concurred, “Most certainly, ‘tis shamefully ironic.” “Truly agonizing!” “That we cannot see to our own vengeance, but such is fate.” This earns a chuckle from them both, an inside joke as they enter the room proper, and raise their shadowed heads just enough that their visages become somewhat visible. They were scarred symmetrically, wounded and abused beyond the good reason of modern and ancient torturers alike, but what could be considered the shape of a face remained: Two eyes, a mouth, and a place where a nose used to be. Their skin was a rich brown shade, and despite their wounded appearance and croneish verbiage, they maintained an aura of youth, just as the blood-suckers in their midst did. What was most disturbing though were their eyes; they remained unwavering, never blinking, not unless forced.
“And to what end do your pursuits concern me and my kin? Our mother is quite careful in whom she allies herself with, now that she is free once again.”
The scarred crones guffawed at this statement. “Free? Of her tomb perhaps!” “Corpselike, to what was her throne you have bound her!” “Keeping her fragile form alive on little,” “Save the scraps of strangers you’ve plucked from the countryside.” This earned the two witches a good deal of retorts and insults hurled their way by the various night-stalkers that lurked in the room.
Turning about to and through, Katalin tried to allay the frustrations and anger of her brood. As vampires of old wealth and nobility, their pride was easily wounded, and though Katalin and her eldest brother were most clairvoyant and clear minded by comparison, words alone did little to talk down her jeering lessers. Where Katalin’s more diplomatic approach to regaining control of the situation failed, Nikolai simply seized it by force. With a heavy blade in hand, an old lamp nearby was rendered to splinters, and a fresh wound in the wall was made where the claymore landed and was firmly lodged. Several nearby nobles scattered as the strike came through, narrowly dodging the blow. With little effort, the blade was wrenched free, and the crowd fell silent. “Continue as you are at your peril, hags. My patience wears ever thin! And as for you all...” Nikolai’s sword was pointed outward over the room, guided from left to right, glimmering faintly in what moonlight did creep into the manor.
Pinching the bridge of her nose with an upturned look, Katalin did her best to return to her refined and inviting tone and posture. Her voice faltered just briefly enough for her skin-deep rage at the outburst to be well known. “Nikolai. What did I say about fangs and blades during the negotiations?” Where her brother had sincere desire to retort and argue the issue further, he was well aware that this was neither the time nor place for it. His blade sheathed with an audible clack, and a nod deferred to Katalin bade her to continue. The crones meanwhile hardly seemed phased by any of the events witnessed, having remained eerily still, their stares unbroken. “So you know then that we ourselves are both indisposed and untrusting of outsiders. Why do you think we’d have an interest in agreeing to any demand or treaty of yours?”
The question earned a few hushed approvals from the others before the crones could respond. In unison they spoke, “Witches spelt your bloodline’s doom; Witches then shall feed your centuries’ cultivated hunger! Doom and death have they wrought on us as well, so as birds of a feather, we seek to flock with you! Power and legions we can offer unto thee, should you agree, that most beneficial it would be for your lady to be full in the flesh once more, drunk on the blood of young virgin women as she was so many years ago!” A pause broke up their dirge-like speaking, and knowing eyes accompanied silvery-serpent-tongued smiles. They took turns to vocalize then, “The blood of hundreds of witches no less,” “Shall bring her,” “And by extension all of you,” And then together, “Power overwhelming!”
The wind moaned its displeasure once more at the powers that had gathered there. Nascent magic, disturbed by the dark witches’ very presence, stirred like malcontent fly swarms in a swampy summer’s heat. It billowed their cloaks, but revealed nothing of their figures beneath where strangely coloured light and smoke wisped away as unnatural aurorae. Some of the vampires shrank away or hissed aggressively at this supposed display of power. The two crone-twins made one final series of statements before acquiescing, “And we know well you hold tight to the convictions of vengeance…. Imprisoned and deprived so many years ago your lady was;” “In part by a family of witches whom we know well the location of.”
Murmurs rumbled throughout the crowd, until Nikolai growled in realization. “The Von Braunschbanks.” His statement left the crowd of lesser vampires bellowing insults, ancient curses, and calls for death on the aforementioned bloodline. Only with Katalin’s silent raised claw did order return to the court.
With a pair of raised wands from their shadowy cloaks, the crones gave the magical mist about them shape, and displayed a quaint town in a distant land. “For who are we to beseech aid in a quest for vengeance if we are not willing to aid another in kind…?” “Our power and tools, rendered unto thee,” “May be used as you please.” Finally, as one, the witches bowed out with one last condition. “So long as Luna Nova is left as ash!” The illusion dispersed and shifted, showing then the academy the crones spoke of.
Katalin maintained her calm smile and inquisitive stare, even as her kin recoiled, save for Nikolai. “If you speak true…. Then we’ve no need for further negotiation. Our mother will no doubt accept this alliance. If you do show us well this power you claim to have, then we—”
“May have a deal?” The crones finish the leading lady’s statement, to which she chuckled weakly.
“We shall see.”
The steady hum of Amanda’s motorbike died out at the turn of a key. Worn dark brown boots flipped the kickstand up and set the vehicle right and steady while she unsaddled herself.
Blytonbury was just fine this time of year, just like it was every time of year. Sure the winter cold had begun to set in, but cozy cabins and cottages ensured everyone had a fine hearth to relax by. Hot drinks flew off the counters at various cafes and markets as the townsfolk, all bushy tailed and bundled up for the morning duties, went about business. Inhaling familiar scents of the quaint little English town, both real and imagined, Amanda removed her helmet with closed eyes and a satisfied smile. She was home. The only place she could ever think of as home, and even then, it could never keep her for very long anymore.
Her obligatory biker’s jacket sported a few personal touches, patches on the sleeves from various places around Europe and North Africa that she’d visited in the past three years since her expulsion. It hadn’t been her first time back in Blytonbury in those three years, but her visits were always a bit too short for what her friends would like, especially Hannah and Barbara. Those two lovebirds were always keen on making Amanda miss them so much she’d come running back eventually, and usually it worked. She couldn’t complain: having two people that loved her so, despite distance and time away, always comforted her on quiet days out and about. She may have been a free spirit, but with ties the likes of which she had with her two loves and many friends, it was hard for her to claim she didn’t have a home.
A few familiar local faces caught on to Amanda’s arrival, recognizing that flamingo-coloured-do anywhere (helmet hair aside). The retired and diminutive mayor, less grouchy now that he no longer had to worry about official duties, was much more welcome to seeing the troublemaking firebrand about town. She usually drummed up some interesting events just when things started to feel all too samey. He gave a spirited wave from the bakery alongside a few other elders and friendly townsfolk, and Amanda returned the greeting in kind.
“Oi! O'Neill! Did you bring any new souvenirs this time around?”
“Trophies maybe? We got plenty of room on the pub wall to hang some of ‘em up!” Mrs. Berry, a local teacher, and Mr. ‘Davey’ King, the pub owner, called out.
Amanda, setting her helmet aside as she did a once-over on her ride, called back, “Not this time I’m afraid! Slim pickings out there this season.” After ruffling her hair into something more akin to her usual style, Amanda crossed over to them and continued. “Just a few restless Fae playing tricks and messing about in France. Annoying as all hell but surprisingly nice hosts. Kept me well fed and well housed for a good month or two, so long as I went along with their games and told them about how the world had changed while they were cut off.”
A younger lady snorted at the mention of fae tricksters, “You should have seen the sprites that infested Russel’s little magic shop then! Had him pulling his hair out for a whole week playin’ silly buggers with him and his stock! It was a riot!” The rest of the group giggled in agreement.
The ex-mayor piped up. “Oh, now don’t be talkin’ too loud on that business. Russel’s still sore about what they did to his hair, won’t ever live it down I imagine!”
Amanda stifled a laugh with a hand over her mouth, recomposing herself before speaking “I’ll make sure not to mention too much of it around him… At least until I get him a bit tipsy. Heh... But I shouldn’t stay and gossip too much. You know Nelson will tear me a new one if I keep her waiting long.”
Mrs. Berry remarked, “Once a drill sergeant, always a drill sergeant, that one. Tell ’er I said hi, and that if she wants me to bake the Broom-Racin’ team another round of postseason goodies, all she needs do is ask!”
In parting, Amanda gave a wink and thumbs up. “Sure thing. Think I might swing by for some of your cooking myself, if Jas doesn’t stuff a whole year’s worth of her own cooking down my throat when I see her.” And so she was off and away with a wave, and the crowd of locals dispersed whilst returning the gesture. It was good to be back.
Contented and cozy, both in body and mind, Amanda walked the streets with little rush. After a long broom ride up from France to the South-England shores, and the subsequent bike ride to town, Amanda could do with a bit of gallivanting. Memories filled these roads as much as the cobblestone did, and despite having only spent about two years at Luna Nova compared to the five her now graduating friends and ex-classmates had, this town meant just as much to her as it did to them. Familiar faces, but still relative strangers passed by and shared smiles and greeting nods with Amanda, as the natural rhythm of the town came to life and swept up the prodigal American witch into its beat.
Only when Nelson came into view around a street corner, sitting leisurely just outside a coffee house, did Amanda awaken from her would-be trance and run forward across the road.
“Oi, Nelson! Nelson!” she shouted heartily, ducking and weaving to avoid a pair of oncoming cyclists. While easily provoked, Amanda let their insults and idle swears brush right off as she focused fully on Nelson. The flight instructor shot her head around at the commotion, but recognized the voice that called her. When Amanda came into view, Nelson greeted her with a big dumb smile already plastered on her face. She rose with open arms and spoke with Amanda’s shared vigor. “O'Neill, you crazy bitch, come here!”
The two shared a few moments’ long embrace, making sure to nearly crush the other with all their strength. It only ever occured to Amanda once or twice before, but Nelson had been something of a loving aunt to her where her blood family had failed to provide. They’d always been at odds at the academy, Nelson and Amanda, but it wasn’t for lack of compatibility. Nelson was a by-the-books ex-military pilot and officer from Minnesota, but she had a well kept secret of being a daredevil and speed junkie when she was a younger lady, even more so than Amanda. While Nelson was always the first to curtail Amanda's flight-class shenanigans, she was also the very first to ever actually teach Amanda how to pull off those tricks and stunts safely. It had been a bit of a ritual of theirs ever since Amanda was expelled; Nelson wrote to her knowing she had potential to make it pro as a broom-rider and stunt woman, and while Amanda was never one to head down that path in any official sense, Nelson also grew a bit bored of the rudimentary and by-the-books tutoring she had been rehearsing for years and years at Luna Nova.
To her surprise, Amanda accepted the offer for a bit of learning here and there, and ended up making it a bi-yearly tradition. Better yet, Amanda was both the worst and best student. She talked back, she challenged Nelson, and Nelson welcomed the heated competition. Amanda’s private lessons with Nelson were a breath of fresh air that revitalized the flight instructor’s love for the path she’d chosen in life. Those lessons turned a mentoring relationship into a warm one between good friends, one that’d certainly last just as it had for Amanda and her ex-classmates.
When the two were satisfied with how long they’d tried to break the other’s back, they released one another and laughed jovially. “Strong a grip as ever O'Neill. Good to see you back in this part of the world, and still in one piece.” Nelson spoke while stepping back to take her seat once more.
Amanda rounded the table and replied, “You haven’t lost that strong arm of yours either, Nelson. And what’s this ‘and still in one piece’ bullshit? You know nothing out there can handle the heat I bring!” Amanda took her seat with folded arms behind her head, and raised legs up on the counter.
Nelson swatted her legs down with a newspaper. It nearly sent Amanda's chair toppling over as Nelson laughed at her flailing and readjustments. “Startled by a middle aged professor eh? Yeah I’m really feeling the heat you’re bringing alright. ” Amanda swore under her breath before childishly mimicking Nelson’s statement. When Amanda was settled back in her seat, Nelson continued. “But honestly, Amanda, you worry me out there. Knowing the work you do; It’s hard to be sure you’ll come back to us all safe and sound. I got out of my wild and crazy phase lucky to still have all my fingers and toes, let alone not needing too much metal in my body to keep it together…. But you’re heading down a far more dangerous path.” Nelson’s tone communicated genuine care and concern. Much like a mother, she was always worried knowing full well what dangers Amanda’s line of work might lead her to, but as a friend and confidant, Nelson knew better than to claim that another path in life would suit Amanda better; It wasn’t for Nelson to choose.
Amanda could only respond in kind, though with a bit of rehearsed annoyance. This wouldn’t be the first or last time she’d have to have this kind of conversation.
“More dangerous but more necessary. The world didn’t really ‘need’ dare-devil Nelson tearing up the skies like a bat out of hell, but the world does need witches and magically minded folks who can handle themselves in a scrap.” She leaned forward over the table with folded arms and lowered her volume. “Think about it Nelson, this town sees more magical mishaps than a circus with a shitty magician. The people here are used to it. Everywhere else? Yeah I mean, ever since the incident with Croix no one really doubts magic exists anymore, but they don’t know what it looks like. Not every town’s blessed with havin’ a history of witches, and big cities are a nightmare and a half now to navigate. It’s one thing when an urban neighborhood has a rat problem, it’s another when a building almost goes up in smoke because a phoenix decided the vent-shafts on the roof were a cozy spot to re-birth itself, or whatever. True story! Everyone just thought the thing was someone’s escaped exotic bird!” Amanda reclined back in her seat and shrugged her shoulders. “You and the rest of the people at the academy haven’t really seen what I have out there. Things are just really different for most folks, and even more so now.” Amanda gestured nonchalantly to the newspaper Nelson had set aside. “You must be keeping up with news outside of local stuff, right?”
“Well, loosely, yes.” Nelson scoured her own memory of recent events, being stuck at the tip of her own tongue for much of anything relevant. “I think Finland’s fully recognized Yetis as an endangered species; At least Lotte said something about that. Besides that..? Beats me. Hard to keep up with all that goes on around here on a daily basis, especially recently.” Nelson seemed a bit concerned toward the end of her last statement, but Amanda pushed past it and spoke up.
“Check the web sometime. Yeah, yeah, I know Finnelan has gotten to be even more of a hardass on technology at the academy, but a crystal ball works just fine. Anyways, it’s wild out there. Some remote greek village was basically held hostage when a Sphinx decided to try and maul anyone that entered without answering its stupid riddle. I’m just glad that got handled before I found out about it. Had to take a prolonged stay with some Fae in North France, and for as good of house guests as they were, their stupid pranks left me with more scars than I’d like. Oh and-”
“New scars? Again? From what and where O'Neill? Thought I told you to play it safer next time!” Nelson sipped at her mug of black coffee, the drink matching her bitterness over Amanda’s mounting list of injuries.
Amanda simply raised up two finger-guns and chortled. “That’s on a need to know basis. Only interested and lovely ladies need to know.” Her jokey-womanizing was met with the deepest of groans from Nelson who, were it not for the heat of her drink, would’ve thrown a bit of it Amanda’s way.
“Vulgar as ever, and dodging my questions like you dodged five speeding tickets getting here I’m sure.”
“Uhhhh, and? Not my fault that mall-cop ass looking pig couldn’t keep up!”
Nelson nearly spat her drink out at that. “What, you actually got in a chase with a traffic cop?! Oh my good god, Amanda O'Neill, you are too damn much sometimes, you know?” An accusing finger went Amanda’s way.
“And yet you can’t get enough of my bullshit! C’mon don’t lie! Every time I’ve told you about some of my best escapades, you’re howling and laughing your ass off. And running a shitty traffic cop around is hardly as bad by comparison.” Where Amanda’s grin was nothing but prideful, Nelson held her face in her hands.
Meanwhile, a barista who had been quite enjoying this exchange decided it would be best if she actually took Amanda’s order, and interjected. The brief respite let the two clear their throats and readjust before continuing.
“Anyways.” Another sip of coffee went the way of the professor, along with a quick and resigned sigh. “Banter aside, I’m glad you’re back. Loathe it or love it, your kinda work skills could be helpful. Luna Nova’s been experiencing some strange events recently.”
Amanda cocked her head and spoke plainly. “Strange like, more than usual?”
“Definitely, and devious as well... Usually it’s mostly gaffs we can all laugh about afterwards, with the occasional massive blunder here and there. This case is a bit different, sadly.” Nelson looked into her mug thoughtfully, a hand resting on her chin.
“Well, lay it on me then. What’s up?” It was strange to see her good friend so hesitant or unsure about a matter such as this. It didn’t sit right at all with Amanda.
Nelson's voice went quiet. “Nothing good. And not much of it is information I feel comfortable relaying outside of closed doors. I don’t want to get the townsfolk all spooked. It’s not them who’s in danger, luckily. All the activities happened on the island, at the Academy. We’ve put some of the Fae staff on constant watch on both ends of the ley-line highway too, just in case this spills out into Blytonbury and the mainland.” Her eyes rose from the mug and scanned the quaint town, curling her lip upwards and exhaling sharply. “Though what this is exactly, is still unknown.”
Amanda groaned gesturing out with a bent arm and open palm. “Cryptic, I get it. But what’s actually raising all the red flags here? I don’t need a dissertation here, teach.”
Nelson turned and tilted her head downward toward Amanda, raising a brow and returning the somewhat frustrated tone. “Do you listen? I don’t want to chat about it here. You know how this town gossips, and Luna Nova’s already under some heavy scrutiny, you know that by now.” Indeed Amanda knew; witches and magical practitioners worldwide were looked at with much greater, more negatively charged suspicion now-a-days. It was all too easy for the powers that be to otherize and distance normal society from its more “anomalous” and magical elements, to their own detriment no less.
Amanda opened her mouth to speak, but her train of thought was briefly interrupted by the returning barista. She accepted her warm mug with quiet thanks before ballooning her cheeks in exhale. “Well you’re the one who seems to be eager to get me involved in this, so you’ll have to tell me eventually. I’m flying blind here otherwise.”
“I’ll talk with the others. Professor Finnelan’s taken charge of the investigation alongside Holbrooke. I can’t even guarantee that Finnelan will want your help, despite your experience. She hardly tolerates your visits, and has nearly convinced some of the other professors to ban you outright.” Nelson lightly pinched the bridge of her nose, having a particularly strong dislike for navigating this issue. “You really, really should have tried to make amends. I told you so many times I lost count-”
“Twenty.” Amanda somewhat loudly sipped her drink, clearly disinterested in hearing this lecture again.
“Not the point! You and Finnelan both are near immovable objects and it gives me a migraine like no one’s business. Just drop your pride for an hour at most and shake hands at the very least.”
“Nope; Not worth it. Like you said, she’s immovable. Even if I try to meet her halfway she wouldn’t budge. I don’t care about the expulsion, Nelson. Hell after this week or two I hardly give a damn if they banish me outright. My closest friends will be out, living their lives, and it’s not like I can’t visit you here in town. What, are they gonna shame you out of it?”
“Again, O’Neill, not the point.” Nelson was left in silent frustration for a brief spell before trying to bargain once more. “She’s taking over as headmistress soon. And you know she’ll have no one stopping her from barring you then. And yeah you don’t care now, but you say the world’s changing? Luna Nova’s changing too, and for the better with Finnelan’s guidance. She’s putting a program together for more mature witches, and you really should consider it. You still have a lot to learn from the academy, and with the work you plan to do, you’ll need all the knowledge you can have at your disposal.”
Amanda lolled her head to one side, then the other, wide-eyed with impatience. “Like I can’t learn outside of some stuffy classroom. All the knowledge I need is out there, and I’ve learned plenty already. I don’t need no one lecturing me, especially that miserable bitch of a professor. I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”
“Fine, O’Neill, but don’t come bitchin’ to me when you end up in a hospital or worse because you went ill prepared into some ungodly mess of a situation. Or do you want to hear this lecture become a feature length production with Diana’s bedside manner? If you’re lucky you’ll still have both legs to try and limp away from her. I mean honestly-” The professor could go on, and on.
“Alright, alright, sheesh. I hear you Nelson.” A big gulp of warm brew had Amanda’s hair standing on its edge as hot met cold, and her body shivered in response. “I really will talk to her. Promise. Swear on my mother's grave-”
“You hate your mother, and last I remember she isn’t dead.” The stonewalled Nelson replied.
“I meant Jasminka.”
“Ah…. Wait, she’s not dead either! Let alone your mother.”
“J-Would yah-Oh just let me have the expression, Nelson! Anyways! I promise, with absolute sincerity, that if you really do think that, and yes, I do agree, you have a point, I’ll talk to Finnelan…. after graduation and AFTER this stupid secret problem you have going on is solved. Is that good enough?” Beleaguered and running out of corners to paint herself into, Amanda’s posture arched and her arms went out wide.
“... Deal. I won’t harass you about it more if you actually keep your word. I trust you.” Nelson leaned back in her seat, upright and proper like. A brief spell of silence fell over them both as Nelson’s eyes casually fell back to the newspaper she’d thwapped Amanda with earlier, browsing some random headlines while Amanda stared into her coffee, arms casually bent on the table, biding the time away. While tensions simmered down, the town's natural noises filled the void and returned some semblance of peace to the situation.
About a minute or so afterwards, Amanda broke the silence. “So is Nelson like, a nickname you got, or is it—”
“Finish that sentence at your own peril, O'Neill. We’ve been over this.” The professor didn’t even bother to raise her eyes from the paper for that one.
“I’ll get an answer to that one day. You know I will. I’ll catch you slippin’.”
“You’ll catch the plague before you catch any wind of my name.”
Another bit of ambient silence came over them before they both couldn’t hold back the stupid grins on their faces. Their shared simpering gaze silently communicated ‘never change’ to the other. For all the headbutting they did, Nelson and Amanda both were the type to strengthen a friendship over petty and serious arguments alike, rather than wear away at it. Their voices both needed a rest though, and each was content to just sit in the other's presence, drink some coffee, and set aside their pressing problems if only for a short while. It wasn’t a totally silent affair. Amanda broached a few questions about her old pals’ most recent escapades at the academy; Nelson duped her friend with a few new ’gotcha’ style jokes and terrible puns. It was all good fun.
“So, I was trying to-” Nelson started as quickly as she stopped, reclining in her chair and grinning widely. Curious, Amanda began to turn her head and see what caught Nelson’s attention, only to be ambushed by Hannah and Barbara, placing a soft kiss on Amanda’s left and right cheek respectively.
“Aahh-man-daaaahh!” The two noble ladies sounded off playfully. Beet red cheeks were shared all around the trio. Nelson took in the sight with arms crossed and eyes half closed, content to let the three have their moment.
“Gah! Hannah! Barbara! Do you always have to sneak up on me like that?” Amanda was hardly earnest in this complaint; she loved their penchant for creative and cute PDA, but fake-complaining about it was always fun. Amanda rose and embraced them both, before spinning about and relaxing an arm over each of their shoulders.
“Yes, yes we do.” Hannah fired back. “And furthermore, you don’t deserve a warning, given you didn’t reply to the letter I sent you two weeks ago!”
“You sent me a letter…? Oh, for fuck’s sake—Cidwe!” Amanda cursed at the sky, groaning. “Wondered why I got some random letter from some poor bastard in Spain asking his ex-wife for alimony payments….” Barbara and Nelson guffawed at this statement, while Hannah just quirked her eyebrows in absolute befuddlement.
“Yeah, long story short, the last job had me keeping a local gathering of Fae somewhere in Northern France occupied. Caught ‘em up to speed with recent events, and taught the locals how to not accidentally give away their souls or whatever it is the damn pixies wanted with ‘em. Bastards nearly took my name from me before I caught myself mid sentence…. That’s when they decided they liked me. Thought I was savvy enough to have some real fun with.”
Barbara squeezed Amanda’s waist supportively. “I’m sure you can make it up to her.”
“And when did you get to decide that, Barbara?” Hannah scoffed.
“The moment you refused to just learn how to use a mobile phone properly and just send her a text! Or call her! Anything reasonable!”
“Is romance dead to you, Barbara? You should know it’s only proper to send your love a letter when you want to woo them…” Hannah turned her chin up and looked away.
“Ladies! We can bicker like old married folks when we’re uhh, I don’t know, not in public?” Amanda looked between her two loves with a beleaguered half smile before looking over to Nelson who sat all too comfortably across from the trio.
“Hmm? Oh, don’t mind me, this is far too enjoyable to watch.” Amanda’s left eyebrow twinged. “You two don’t see it, but during our training sessions, the second I get on her case about just how adorable you three are, she lights up like the Vegas Strip. Nearly lost her damn head from a tree branch daydreaming abo—”
“OK! Nelson! It’s great to uh, be back! Really but maybe we should uh…. Hey! Hannah, Babs, I’ll meet with you later right? Sorry but, you know how busy professors can be, haha!” Amanda was about as smooth as gravel in trying to make excuses, her voice shaking uncharacteristically.
Amanda resembled Nelson’s anecdote to a T, and it left Barbara leaning in close, with raised eyebrows. “Oh? She does what now? What is she thinking about exactly? Hmm?” She started jabbing Amanda in the gut, earning a few jumps and uncomfortable shifts from her lover.
“How cuuuute! Our brave little broom-knight is just enamored with us even when training up her flight skills? I’m truly honoured.” Hannah joined in, poking and prodding away, both now holding on tight to their squirming girlfriend.
“Oi-Fuckin’-Quit it, I swear-I’ll kill you-FUCK STOP!” Amanda’s complaints were riddled with hints of laughter and giggling, having to duck her head down as Hannah and Barbara began ruffling her hair. Eventually, she broke free and shook her head like a wet dog before resetting her hair back to its original style. Hannah and Barbara, meanwhile, let out an on-brand bourgeois laugh.
Nelson stepped in, standing up and holding her palms upright and outward in a calming motion. “Jokes aside, no need to break up the gang on my behalf. I should be heading back to the academy anyway. I know we planned to meet a while back in advance, Amanda, but these are unusual times for the academy. With things being so strange, I really could only spare this last hour or so to meet with you before I needed to get back on my watch duties. Spend some quality time together girls, you’ve all earned it. Besides, I could never bear keeping you three apart.”
Amanda quirked her head, “You sure you don’t want me to at least help you with that? I mean, yeah I know, permission and shit, but if it’s just a watch—”
“Not a chance, O’Neill. Gotta stay focused, and while I love your company, this is a bit too serious to make personal. No hard feelings of course.” Nelson cracked her knuckles, neck, and back before grunting contently. “Now stop trying to run away from your girlfriends. That’s an order.”
“Running? Away? Psh…. I’m just worried is all.” Amanda rubbed the back of her head and turned her gaze downward slightly, but jolted it back up to her left when Hannah squeezed her arm reassuringly.
“It’ll be alright, babe, promise. Weird stuff happens at Luna Nova every other month. I’m certain this will get sorted out in no time.”
“Besides,” Barbara said, “after pulling an all nighter or two, we’re eager to take a breather. A rested task force is an effective task force!” She raised a finger as-a-matter-of-factly, and Hannah nodded in agreement.
“Yeah I gue—wait…. Nelson! I thought this was, like you know, under wraps? No offense, loves, but how do you two know about it?” Amanda looked between her two girlfriends before turning to Nelson expectantly.
“I’ll give you three guesses.” Nelson stretched her arms above her head.
Amanda half closed her eyes as her brain sputtered and spat out all sorts of answers before she, Hannah, and Barbara all spoke in unison. “Diana.” Where Amanda was less than enthusiastic, Hannah and Barbara were quite pleased. Amanda spoke up alone then. “Why am I even remotely surprised? Ugh, and I thought taking orders from Finnelan would be bad.”
Hannah and Barbara giggled at that. “Oh come on, Amanda, you know she’s not that intense.” Hannah moved one hand to her hip while speaking.
“She’s still just trying to act like she totally isn’t friends with her, despite years of evidence saying otherwise.” Barbara leaned past Amanda and looked to Hannah when speaking.
Hannah replied, putting on ruder, snobbier airs, “I swear it’s like she’s still in a high-school mentality.”
“Uhhh, hello? Right here? In between you two? Hearing everything you’re saying?”
Amanda was easily dismissed with a finger from Barbara pressing against her lips.
“Ugh, I know right? Like, we get it, you’re a bad bitch who doesn’t associate with preps ; Who does she think she is though?” Barbara tightened her upper lip, brushed her bangs aside dramatically, and slipped into her own ‘preppy’ persona.
“I swear to—”
Another shush from Hannah this time shut Amanda up. “And yet she walks around in boots like that? With a leather jacket? Like, we get it, you’re real edgy, O’Neill. Totally not compensating for—” Barbara couldn’t finish her roasting before she found her cheek pressed against Hannah’s, with Amanda resting her chin above the two. Both Hannah and Barbara barely held back shit-eating grins, while Amanda’s expression resembled some mix between angry and amused.
Grinning, Amanda spoke through gritted teeth to Nelson, who all the while was covering her mouth and admiring the three one final time. “Great seeing you again, Nelson! But we really should be heading out now. Don’t wanna keep you from your duties! Right, ladies?”
Hannah and Barbara nodded, sputtering out a chortle here and there. Nelson shook her head, turning about to leave. “Don’t go easy on her, you two! I’m counting on you to straighten her out on my behalf today!”
“NELSON!” Amanda’s voice knew only betrayal. Hannah and Barbara wrapped an arm each about Amanda’s neck, tugging her along.
“You heard her, O’Neill. So Hannah, where to first?”
“Hmmm… I think Amanda owes us both a romantic dinner at only the finest of restaurants. All expenses paid by her of course.” Amanda twinged in pain at that.
“Oh, what a wonderful suggestion. Now to choose...” Barbara’s train of thought wandered as Amanda piped up.
“Uh, loves? Dinner sounds great, but news flash, your girlfriend’s broke as usual. And, reminder, YOU’RE BOTH RICH AS HELL!” Amanda struggled in vain toward the end of her complaint before resigning herself to being shuffled along with her girlfriends’ arms wrapped about her. They simply laughed, all too pleased with themselves. They both gave a wave to Nelson, as she flew away towards Luna Nova. Amanda’s eyes followed the professor as she left, and quietly ruminated on the matter of this ‘devious’ threat the academy faced. Whatever it was, Amanda was ready to face it head on, one way or another.
The hiss of a blowtorch echoed throughout the cavernous workshop beneath the school grounds. The tool’s light gave the usually low lit space an array of variously defined shadows dancing about as the flame was guided along its path.
Constanze was at the helm of another project. In its current state, the mechanical skeleton resembled a wire-figurine with an unfinished cone shaped head-lamp. However, the plans pinned to an easel beside it clearly showed the final idea for the project: Stanbot Mark Two! A clear upgrade from the prior model, fitted with more possibilities for extra tools and gadgets that would make a Swiss army knife blush. It was in an early, early alpha state right now, but all great things began somewhere.
With a hard-pressed face behind her welder’s mask, Constanze welded the top-most panel to the rest of the head. Some final adjustments went its way then, with scraping tools and chisels chipping away at the excess melted metal, leaving the connected area with a clean crease.
Her hands fell to her hips, and she smiled genuinely. It was shaping up nicely all things considered. This quiet moment of pride and satisfaction would not go uninterrupted however, as her laptop, sitting upon a nearby cart-stand, chimed like a mechanical bird. A call was coming in.
Constanze was hardly ever in the mood to chat, even over a computer. She kept her contact information extremely secure, giving it to only the most trusted people, or those who she couldn’t make excuses to ignore. After removing the welding mask and setting it aside, Constanze approached the chirping computer, accompanied by a small gaggle of curious Stanbots.
“Caller ID: Croix Meridies [Flujo De Arcanos, Detenido Magico, Unspecified, Spain]
Constanze raised her brows in silent surprise, and glared down at the clock on her system, her eyes straining to focus. They went wide at Constanze’s sudden realization of just how long she’d been down there.
A nearby Stanbot’s alarm went off then, ringing like an old-timey clock. “Private lesson! Magitronics Advanced! 9:00 hours, British Summer Time! Private Lesson! Magitronics Advanced!—” It whirred and signaled repeatedly until a palmed hand on its head silenced it. Had she really been up just about all night…?
“Oh no….” Constanze vocalized weakly, wiping a gloved hand over her face and brushing aside her messy short-cut bangs. Before Constanze could think much on whether to reject or accept it, the call went to video-voicemail, automatically connecting.
The display of the convicted tech-witch showed her in simple grey clothing, sitting at a desk in a room whose style could only be described as perfunctory. Save for the lack of walls, replaced by a seemingly endless violently violet and golden void that swirled and shimmered with blackened and glowing triangular shapes. Frayed lines, strung out across aeons, kept it all, and by extension, the room Croix sat in, together. It was her own little time-bubble, where the convicted witch was serving out her sentence at an accelerated rate of time compared to the rest of the world. Though she herself wouldn’t age as quickly, her perception of time was altered magically to experience her fifty year sentence, with good behavior and evaluations, in less than a decade’s time outside of her cell.
Croix’s velvet voice rang out and echoed about the chamber, with her eyes initially downcast at her nails as she filed them, “Constanze! Croix here. Get back to me as soon as you can with—OH!” Her gaze turned up just enough to catch a glimpse of Constanze. “You’re right there! Excellent, darling, you’re right on time for...” Croix tilted her head, staring queerly, eyeying Constanze up and down. Constanze was wearing a working apron, gloves, and a utility belt as was usual for her when down in her lab, but what stood out were the pajamas beneath it all. “Constanze, did you sleep at all?”
An averted gaze and unsure sounding grunt from Constanze said more than needed, though a Stanbot chimed in as well. “Constanze unit analysis: Four hours slept in the last twenty four hour period! Vital signs—nominal. Anxiety levels—above average. Energy drink consumption—exceeding safe limits!” An angered squint sent the Stanbot’s way had it shutting down on the spot.
Croix meanwhile tutted and sighed, shaking her head with closed eyes. “Darling, you should know when I of all people need to remind you to keep good health habits, something’s gone terribly wrong.” Sure enough, within view, Constanze could spot that Croix’s cell was still littered with empty instant-ramen bowls and other snack wrappers. When Constanze turned toward her workstation, it looked just as messy, if not worse. Constanze couldn’t argue with her tutor’s critique. She wasn’t proud to have been so anxiety-ridden and scatterbrained such that this was a common occurrence.
Sleep evaded her more than usual ever since her father tried to get in contact again last week. She’d enjoyed a blissfully detached relationship with her family for about a year now, and with her time at Luna Nova coming to an official end, having to reaccustom herself to interacting with them on a regular basis was disquieting, to say the least.
“Constanze? Constanze. Yoo-hoo. I know you’re tired, but...”
“Scheiße.” Constanze swore silently, before quickly clearing her throat, and reorienting her gaze to face the laptop’s camera. She’d lost herself in thought again, and of all the things to get Constanze flustered and anxious, losing her composure was near the top of the list. With a frantic bit of typing into a text to speech program that emulated a voice not terribly dissimilar to her own, Constanze started getting her thoughts together. “I know. I’m sorry Croix. I really didn’t mean it, honest. I was stuck pacing last night and I was just angry and tired of having to think of—”
Constanze backpedaled before fully committing to the input message. “I know, I’m sorry Croix. I really didn’t mean to; Finals just have me jittery. My last exams should be finished tonight. I’m sure to pass, I know it. But, you know how I like to worry.” That wasn’t what was troubling her, but it wasn’t a lie that those very same examinations were indeed scheduled for later, and she’d forgotten about them entirely until just now, given the whirlwind of thoughts going through her mind last night.
“Usually you’re pretty confident when it comes to this stuff, but hey. Even I was worried about my finals. It’s a natural sort of anxiety. Life brings changes, and when have we ever liked change, even when it’s for the better?”
Though ignorant of what truly pained Constanze at the moment, Croix’s words hit a bit too close to home for a shot in the dark. Was this for the better? Fuck no—not to Constanze, not in her current state of mind. She seethed at the very notion of returning home to take over the family business. It wasn’t what she wanted….
But she wanted it more than anything at the same time, to be validated and accepted in her line of work; not by her peers, no. She already was comfortably kept at Luna Nova, among friends. Home was a different story. It was why she was so eager to take Croix up on the offer of tutelage. The idea that Constanze’s two loves of magic and machinery could truly be married by a legitimized (albeit heavily scrutinized and well feared) field of magic and craftsmanship had Constanze hopeful she’d find her niche in the modern world; That she wouldn’t have to choose between professional loves.
“Given all that and your disheveled state, are you sure you want to continue with our regularly scheduled program darling? I mean, you know I live for this so long as I’m stuck in this personal hell of mine.” The weight of this ‘personal hell’ only seemed to show its toll in brief moments where Croix dropped the guise of being completely calm and collected. She leaned in, looking closely into the camera. “That said, you know while it’s a weekly wait between lessons for you, it’s something like a month for me…. So pleeeeease? For your good pal Croix, could you maybe consider freshening up and coming back for a lesson?” Her tone faltered in confidence, clearly nervous Constanze might say no. “I can’t rightly hang up. You know the drill. Two calls per week. And Chariot would beat me senseless if I miss our own weekly appointments. Soooo, please can we keep to our agreed class-time? Pretty please?”
Constanze simply listened intently, preferring to hear rather than speak, but found herself less than happy with the request. It just…. It wasn’t that kind of day. Depression and anxiety kicked like a mule, silently, and at the most inopportune times. All she wanted was to bury herself in her work, vent off steam to Jasminka, eat unhealthy amounts of comfort food, maybe pass out, and then wake up ten minutes before exams and sprint just to make it on time. It was all a slew of poor choices, but Constanze just wanted this day to be over before it even began.
When enough time had passed that social norms demanded Constanze respond, she typed away. “Yeah, I’ll try and get something together. Again, I’m really sorry.” A pause broke up her chain of thought as the initial message was input. “I can talk for a bit though right now. Need to put my things away. Was working on something.”
“Oh, but of course, when aren’t you working on something! Regale me. Tell me all about this current project of yours.” Croix leaned even closer, almost uncomfortably close for Constanze’s liking. To avoid looking at her mentor, Constanze shifted the cart the laptop was on slightly away, and began to tidy up her workstation with the help of some Stanbots.
Actually vocalizing then, Constanze quietly spoke, prompting Croix to turn up her volume. “It’s…. A new Stanbot model. T-Third iteration. Last two didn’t work well. Poor cohesion. Messy wiring. This one’s more optimized. It’ll work well.”
It always took a moment to get going after being silent for extended periods, needing to find her groove. Constanze had grown better at handling her nonverbality and overall social anxiety, but like any mental-behavioral ailment, it was with her for life. She found curt, to the point, and perfunctory statements to work best when said problems ailed her. It wasn’t very common to be uncomfortable with Croix, given the several years they’d had to build a resectable rapport with one another, but the jailed professor’s eccentricities did have a tendency to trigger poor reactions on Constanze’s end. Luckily, Croix was patient, and quite supportive when the situation called for it. After all, it was only a decade and a half ago that Croix herself had been quite antisocial and nervous at heart. Though where she didn’t lack in the spirit for helping, her intense charisma made most interactions with her overwhelming.
“Aaahh! Let me see, oh please do show! You know how I adore your little helpers.” Constanze sighed, mustering what energy she could to slide the easel with the full designs over into view of Croix’s camera. “Marvelous, darling! Marvelous!” Some time was spent in general silence, interrupted by Constanze’s clattering from cleaning and Croix muttering to herself as she went over the documents before her. “Backup-power cells…. Orchicalcum plating? Expensive… Mhmm... Yes, I see why now. Sturdy… Especially heat resistant? Ah, I see your game here! It’s quite the aspirational design! I’m sure that of all the novice magi-technicians I know, it’s you who’d be up to the task of making something of this caliber! If you desire a second opinion, I always—”
Constanze grunted negatively, clearly shaking her head.
“Ah, I understand. It is Stanbot, after all… It just wouldn’t be right if it wasn’t all ‘you,’ you know?” A cheery chuckle and smile was left plastered on the laptop screen when Constanze turned to acknowledge and nod respectfully to Croix. Leaning back to a more reasonable distance away in her chair, Croix tip-tapped at her chin, wanting for talking points to alleviate her boredom. “Graduation!” She proclaimed suddenly. “My darling Constanze is going to be a full-blooded witch in just a week or two's time! Ahh! I can hardly contain my excitement…. You know, my warden even said they might just give me leave for two days to come and attend!”
The news was nothing she wanted to hear right now, all too aware she’d likely have to be the sober handler, alongside Chariot, of a very drunk Croix. Beyond that, thinking about the ceremony with or without Croix there wasn’t anything to get Constanze excited. She already loathed the notion of leaving the safe routine she’d adjusted to at Luna Nova. For all the strange things that happened around the academy, usually due to someone’s (not always Akko’s) ineptitude or blundering, it was a controlled chaos that Constanze could manage.
The general routines she’d fallen into helped her form solid coping strategies and kept her anxiety in check. It all comes back to the issue of home, and family. Again. “Fucking hell.” Constanze spoke plainly, flatly, venting out one of many nasty thoughts bouncing about her head, earning a quizzical response from Croix. “Oh. Nothing, Croix. Pinched a finger. I’m… Excited though. I guess.”
Croix replied with a bit of drumming from her fingers against her desk. “Oh! Did the Hypersoft representative get back to you? Or maybe Platinum? Oh and remind that bastard Geoffry that he still owes me for that program audit I did for him, despite being literally in jail. You wouldn’t believe the hoops I had to jump through to convince my wardens to let me do that. And if that doesn’t convince him to at the very least recommend you for an apprenticeship with Wind and Water Inc, then he can shove—”
Constanze gripped her fists tight against the desk and breathed as steadily as she could. This was not the time or place where Constanze wanted to think about that. She hadn’t even really sent applications out to those companies at all. They didn’t interest her, and why should they? They were just bland, mundane tech companies hoping to corner their own piece of the market by being some of the first to monetize magic in consumer goods. Constanze would be wanted only for the profit she could bring in, not the soul of her creativity, or her works.
Croix didn’t seem to have a problem in making it big, but Constanze did. It was always annoying and quite difficult for her to make any headway in arguing with her mentor. She had a bad habit of not ‘getting’ Constanze’s complaints. Not that she seemed to try very hard to do so.
A new voice saved Constanze the trouble of having to get Croix off her back, interrupting her. “You talk too much, Meridies. Lay off.”
Sucy crossed the threshold of the lair as silent as wind. She was robed from head to toe in a purple gown and cloak. Only her pallid face and hands were visible. To say Constanze was relieved would be the understatement of the century.
Croix turned awkwardly in her chair, trying to get a view from the laptop, futilely, to see who had addressed them. “Hmm? Who’s there? Conz, darling, can you turn-Ah! Sucy Manbavaran! Long time no see!”
Sucy leaned in from one side, making just half of her face visible, looking clearly displeased. “Don’t play coy. I’m not in a mood to talk to you. I came to see Constanze. In private.” Constanze turned about from her desk, smiling at Sucy as she allowed her closest friend to take the wheel.
“N-Now Sucy, honey, I’m certain it can wait just a moment more! I mean you have Constanze all to yourself so much more often than I. I mean ever since you set up a lab right here in the workshop… Are you sure you can’t just wait a-”
“Nope. Not hearing it. You’re making her uncomfortable. You can talk next week.”
“SUCY, D—”
Click.
“Finally, some peace and quiet.” Sucy inhaled sharply and eased into a smile as she approached Constanze then, slowly offering a hand to take if she so chose. “Not a good day then, is it, Amalie?”
Constanze wasted no time clasping her hands about the one offered, and idly rubbed along the palm and back in a calming motion, shaking her head in sad agreement. Sucy always knew the best ways to let Constanze stimulate herself down from any anxious highs or depressive lows, and had a penchant for showing up just when she was needed most.
“Usually you’re better at shutting Croix down when she crosses a line. And I heard from Jasminka you weren’t doing so well.”
Constanze, again, nodded. She was displeased with how shaken up she’d gotten over all of this. She’d improved her ability to cope and handle such situations a great deal, but none of her past experiences at Luna Nova prepared her well for dealing with family matters. They were always a sharp thorn placed firmly in her heart, and Sucy knew more than most how it stung.
Sucy simply returned the nod, and with her free hand, magicked a pair of stools over, allowing the two to sit beside one another. Sucy didn’t talk for the next ten minutes, allowing Constanze to simply grip on tight to her, and otherwise occupy her own hands with tools and various other things from her desk. All the while, Constanze processed a litany of thoughts and concerns.
Eventually, she regained full composure, and exhaled in calm and steady breaths, speaking up with much greater clarity and confidence compared to before. “Thank you, Sucy. I’m sorry you had to get involved like that, especially with Croix of all people.” There was still a somber air to Constanze’s words, but Sucy was silently joyful to see Constanze had returned to normalcy.
With a roll of the shoulders and idle turn of the head, still tired looking and stonewalled as ever, Sucy drifted her gaze off towards nothing in particular. “I liken her to the only viper I wouldn’t enjoy the company of. You always did have more patience than me for nonsense.” A brief pause accompanied Sucy turning back slightly toward Constanze. “We don’t have to discuss what has you upset if you don’t want. Though I wish you’d remember to come talk to me more often if things get bad like this.”
Leaning her head idly against Sucy’s arm, Constanze made a loose shrugging motion. “I worry about relying too much on you, Jasminka, and, well, everyone. And besides, I feel there are just some things I need to...” She stumbled briefly for words, biting her lower lip gently, “Let wash over me. Just feel what I need to feel and be done with it. This… Well this maybe wasn’t the time for that, but, in the moment, I just wanted to be alone.”
A low grunt communicated Sucy’s understanding as she looked off at the wall opposite to them again, “I trust your judgement, Constanze. But Croix has a point. You’re getting sloppy, as in literally.” Sucy gestured idly to a few discarded soda-cans. “You should shower and maybe take the day off after you’ve cleaned this all up. I don’t mind helping if you like.” Sucy casually levitated a few empty cans and disposed of them properly, transmuting them into usable aluminum scrap and stripping the decal paint off. Constanze would no doubt appreciate the extra materials later.
Constanze joined in on the effort, and spoke up once more. “Yeah, it’s been… A rough week, not just a rough day. I kept it together for the most part, but….” No more words were needed. Sucy understood well enough, and Constanze could tell just by how she hummed.
“Say, were you listening long? Croix mentioned the bad habits a bit earlier in the conversation?”
Sucy paused briefly, “Ah? Oh, yeah. I came down here an hour ago; was just listening in while you worked. I wasn’t really hiding, I was just at my station.” She gestured lazily toward the back left corner of the room where her alchemy lab lay. It was recently used, and a few beakers were lit over summoned flames, clearly needing to be heated for quite some time. Constanze was hardly surprised she hadn’t noticed. When she was in the zone, there was little save direct confrontation that would draw her attention elsewhere.
Sucy yawned the first half of her following sentiment: “Didn’t feel right to disturb you while you were working. Especially given the circumstances that brought you down here.” With bland enthusiasm, Sucy crushed up one of the many cans and chucked it toward the growing pile of scrap, landing it perfectly on top. “Woo.” Distractions now aside, she continued. “It felt best to stay busy, so I started my own work. Couldn’t stand that woman’s foolishness anymore though.”
Constanze sighed. “You don’t need to be too rude to her. I mean, she can’t do any harm, being locked up and everything. Besides, she didn’t know. Honestly, she’s usually better about this.”
Sucy turned fully to face Constanze, brushing her own left bangs aside. “I’m not sure what you see in her, really, besides the technical know-how. Not that I’m the biggest people person of course. I don’t have to and don’t want to waste time and energy on people who aren’t worth it.”
Constanze nodded in agreement with that last sentiment. “You’re compatible with me, that has to be worth something.”
Sucy smiled quite genuinely, a rarity for Lukić’s most favored apprentice. “It’s worth quite a bit, I think. More than you know.” Constanze couldn’t help but clear her throat and look away, flush with minor embarrassment. Sucy simply cackled quietly in return, enjoying the rise she’d get out of Constanze every now and then with such compliments.
A Stanbot interrupted this heartfelt moment with a most urgent message. “Alert! Alert! Visitor! Visitor! Alert! Alert!” It waved its arms frantically as various other Stanbots joined in, before Constanze calmed them with a motion of her hand, as though she were lowering the volume on a speaker.
“Stanbots, report. Who is it?”
The group of mechanical helpers jumped up and down, yelling with artificial glee. “Amanda! Amanda! Amanda!”
Constanze swelled with anticipation. It had been nearly eight months since Amanda’s last visit! They weren’t the closest of friends, but it was always exciting to have her back with the gang, and so Constanze sprang up from her stool and waved her arms. “Here already!? Mein gött! Get me a clean uniform and prep the shower, stat! I will not be going out there looking or smelling like this.” For all the trouble and annoyance Amanda might bring to any given situation, her arrival sure did wash away the rain and disperse the clouds of anxiety and depression that lingered over the workshop. She and her antics were a welcome distraction, and it was a good excuse for Constanze to get her act together.
Sucy was less enthusiastic. “Ah. Wondered when she’d show up. I mean I’m glad you’ve caught your second wind, Constanze, but I think I’ll just finish my alchemy business before heading over to the arboretum. I’ll catch up with you guys later. I think my babies are hungry.” She was of course referring to whatever collection of highly dangerous mushrooms and plants were maturing in the school’s greenhouse. Sucy had been able to gather a few like minded friends from various levels of the academy’s student body who shared her love for all things strange in the botanical and fungal world, and they had formed the ‘Exotic Botany and Mycology Club’ around three years prior, with Sucy as the de-facto president. She wasn’t about to let her most recent batch of lovelies go to waste, even with the upcoming graduation and the strange happenings at Luna Nova.
Sucy rose beside Constanze, and gently held her friend’s shoulder. “Before I do that though, I just wanted to say.” Constanze turned, dropping her arms and looked up at her far taller friend (whom she was endlessly jealous of in that regard), granting her full attention. “I wanted to let you know that, whatever you decide to pursue, and whatever it is that’s bothering you; I’m sure you’ll choose the right path to take. You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for a lot of the time, and I’m not talking about your skill with machines.” Constanze’s smile went wide and her eyes glistened lightly. Sucy continued, “Think long and hard on it, and I know you’ll be happy in the end.”
Constanze could almost cry at the sentiment offered, hurrying back and embracing Sucy suddenly. Though caught off guard, and nearly toppled, Sucy relaxed into the hug with a content smile, eventually returning the gesture with a pat on the back. “Now go shower. Seriously. I may like gross things, but B.O. is not one of them.”
Constanze pulled back, getting a whiff of herself before recoiling. Grease, anxious sweat, metal shavings, and energy-drink breath was perhaps one of the worst combinations of scents ever conceived, and Constanze would waste no time in being rid of it.
She hurried off with a silent look that spoke her goodbyes, leaving Sucy to her own devices. Stanbots shuffled about and redoubled their cleaning efforts, with Sucy shifting past, hardly making a sound. At her desk, she went over a few documents that normally looked quite inconspicuous, but on closer inspection seemed to detail investigation efforts into the strange sightings of hooded trespassers at Luna Nova. Despite needs for quietness on the matter, Sucy knew Constanze wasn’t the gossiping type, and that she wouldn’t rummage through Sucy’s belongings to begin with.
With a flick of her wand, Sucy brought life to a nearby crystal ball and scanned through its magi-digital databanks. A voice message had been left for her to find. Without delay she began to listen, otherwise busying her idle hands with beakers and mixtures.
A man's deep voice was projected from the recording. “Manbavaran, Ibrahim here;" His voice was stern, deep, and heavy. The situation was serious. "We’ve received reports from you and your academy’s associates that the sightings of the persons of interest have increased. We’ve searched for leads on the photographs you managed to capture and the vague description of the first subject, but we’ve come to a dead end. This is more concerning than you may think, as it leaves us with little idea as to their intent or their full capabilities. On request of Principal Holbrooke, I’ll be bringing the rest of our coven’s agents in to help secure the academy." A brief pause in the recording let Ibrahim find his words, where Sucy's eyes wandered over to the crystal ball. "I know you wished to keep our handling of this quiet, but protocol dictates we take a more hands on approach now. Especially given the aggressive action taken against Professors Babcock and Chariot. We know no one was injured severely, but clearly they hold ill and hostile intent, and pose enough of a threat to trouble some of the most senior witches at the academy. They’ve forced our hand.” Sucy inhaled deeply, slowing her motions with the various beakers and focused more intently on the message.
Ibrahim's message continued again after another brief pause. “You’ve not fully graduated yet, recruit, nor been fully inducted into the coven, but consider this your first operation as an Antiquarian. Special circumstances demand we bench tradition for the moment in favor of practical operations. You’ll receive further instructions once we’ve arrived. Stay safe, Manbavaran, I’ll meet with you soon.” The message came and went with Sucy exhaling in exacerbated fashion.
She spoke aloud to herself. “Here I hoped we’d be able to end the year on a more fun incident, not something like this.” Shaking her head, Sucy continued, now speaking in Tagalog. “Pagpalain sana tayo ng mabuting kapalaran.” It called for good fortune and fate to favor them all, a prayer that all might be well when everything was said and done. By Sucy’s pessimistic estimation, they’d need fate on their side.