HALO CLXXXV: The Titles End Here

[Mee]

[A Game of Scones]

"Stories?" Eddie asked. "I... might have a few."

The little golem shifted position slightly, unconsciously echoing the poses of the bards and jongleurs of his distant childhood.

"I grew up in the twelfth century in the tower of the Archmage Edmond Hamilton, my world's greatest golem crafter; I was his laboratory assistant for a little over a century, along with his bodyguard during his infrequent appearances at court. When my pater's wizarding tower exploded, I was cast into stasis for six centuries, waking up in a museum after I absorbed enough magic from the artifacts around me to revive." he said.

"From there, I became an adventurer." Eddie continued, glossing over the frustrating and troublesome time period where he had to convince people that the museum did not, in fact, own him, because he was a sentient being and was not about to consent to being owned. Although he did correct a few of their misconceptions about the Archmage Hamilton, on the exhibits in Sharpie after they wouldn't listen to him.

"Probably my favourite stories from my adventuring career come from my first party, who I worked with for about fifteen years, into the mid-Eighties, although I had a time period where I was a star attraction in the Unnamed Arena in the wilds of central Norway, or the time I spent nearly six years fighting the undead hordes of Count Orlok in Carrickfergus Castle... or maybe the dragon siege of Barcelona- the aftermath of that was when I learned to play guitar, actually."

Eddie rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I could probably blether on for hours on any or all of those topics... is there any one that you'd actually be interested in?"

[A Game of Scones]

Quenn listens, nodding, and trying to take notes. She's not great at *keeping* notes, and she is, overall, bad with names. But she wants to try to fix that. To be better at remembering. To be better at waking up and not having had her memories stripped away.
"Gosh, truly though. The first party is always just . . . it's maybe not the best party. But it'll stick with you the longest, I feel.

Though six years? Was it just more of a drawn out thing, or just day in day out, constant thing?" Quenn almost wanted to ask about the Unnamed Arena, but it . . .it almost hits too close to home.
So . . . asking after the undead horde sounds like a good start.

[Prelude to Cat]

So it was sensetive.
More so than she had expected considering how bizarre the question seemed in retrospect.
Though it seemed to be less due to the answer itself and more the lack of one. Quenn didn't know who she was anymore or if she even was her and not just a summary of her stored in a body no longer her own.

Well, she didn't want any of that.
"Of course you're related, you know things only you would don't you? One could read a whole bookshelf about you and still not understand what you are and what you feel. The only being that can truly understand who you are is yourself." She gives Queen a nod. "One moment."

She reaches into her tome and pulls out a... smaller tome.

Well, it's actually a sketchbook.

"Do you have a photo of your former body or could you describe it to me? Since as much as your current one is a 'clone' I could still guess you were a dragon. You radiate stronger than any body you inhabit, Queen."

[Prelude to Cat]

It was sensitive. And Quenn may be trying to like, smile it off, to not let it get to her. But Ambrosia can practically watch something inside her *crack*. This is apparently something that has been eating at her more than a little bit. And to hear some actual support, and encouragement?
Honestly, any support or encouragement at *all* is still very very new to her. But especially on something that still kept her up at night, like *this*?
This was . . . different.

But, sadly, she has to shake her head.
"I- I don't." She admits, biting her lower lip slightly to stop it from quivering. "I don't . . . remember. I saw it. One time.
My own dead body.
And I . . . I believe I had those memories stripped away. But be it willingly, to get them out or unwillingly, to make me more reliant on my tormenters, I . . . I don't know.

I remember, vaguely, that I was more akin to more of a . . . digital landscape, than pastoral.
But that is . . .

That is *all* I have." She admits, looking up at Ambrosia, her eyes misty, though she's doing a heroic job keeping from breaking.
Fully, anyway.

The Puwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwul!

When it comes to gods, physics are more of a guideline than a limitation. Heck, the same can be said of a lot of wizards, not even getting into things like werewolves that change their shape.

Good thing the world is inherently magical and lets all that stuff happen. It'd be a lot more boring if it didn't.

"Agreed!" says Lia, nodding, "Although being royals is a fun thing to bond over, birthright is not a reasonable method by which to determine political power, and we are not inherently more special than those who are not princesses. Imagine if a whole system of government was based on that notion!"

A moment of hard silence.

"Your number? Like... like..." Lia struggles for a moment, "Like five?" She seems terribly confused by the notion.

Wait a minute, Magcord... oh! "Wait you mean like on a cell phone! I actually have one of those, some of the other researchers said I should. I haven't really used it much yet, but how hard can it be?" Technology beyond the book is a bit confusing, but she should be able to get the hang of it. She's heard good things about something called 'the internet.'

Lia is more than happy to let the hug continue for several more long moments, half closing her eyes. "Mmm... I wish I were as warm as you. You feel like summer sunlight." This is more a direct comparison than a poetical metaphor, but hey, something can be both.

But all things must come to an end, including the hug, and when it does Lia produces a small black smartphone and hands it over with a flourish. It clearly hasn't been used at all, with no passcode and a default background.

"My cell phone! In case I get confused about morality, and also to plan for watching anime." She wonders idly if that's an outdoor activity, like bird watching, or indoor, like reading a book.

The Puwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwul!

Tish nodded excitedly, her hair bouncing around her shoulders as she listened to everything her new friend said, and agreed with all of her . . .
*copious* amount of heart.
"Gosh, bestie, you are *SO* right.
So. *SO*. So right indeed." That moment of hard silence could have cut diamonds.

"Five *is* a really good number, but no like-
Yeah! Yeah that exactly! Do you have it with you? I would be overjoyed to help explain like, how to use it for important things! Talking with friends over text, and muting the ringing noise it makes when someone calls you!"

It's a good hug though, Tish has to agree. Lia isn't as warm as she is, but that's one of the best ways to *have* hugs! To offer the warmth of your . . . heart. To your friends! To help make them safe and happy, just as their own hugs can make you tingly and overjoyed right back. "And you are so *nice* to hug. You're just the right size, you're comfy, you don't hug too hard, and just gosh.
We gotta do it again~!"

But then, post the hug's end, and after being sad about said hug ending for a moment, Tish takes the phone, nod nod nods a few times, and starts to slowly flip through the phone.
She takes Lia to the settings to set a password first off, slowly and explaining how to get to where she was going. She looks away politely as Lia makes the password, then demonstrates how it works by putting the phone to sleep, and turning it on a few times, to try to make sure Lia's got it squared away and *solid*!

After that, is downloading Magcord! Going over its various features. Adding each other as friends. Sending a few cute stickers. Maybe taking a quick selfie of the two of them to put into the chat.

All calmly, patiently, stopping to field any question no matter how minor, and doing her best to help Lia *learn*, and never, never, *never* feel like she was lacking anything for not knowing these things.
Everyone starts somewhere!

[quillpleasant]

The Puwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwuwul!

Talking with friends over text? 'When someone calls you?' These phrases are a little confusing to Lia. All she really knows is that it's a communication device that can... do things. It was given to her with very little instruction, and she's been just a bit nervous about figuring it out herself, for fear of accidentally breaking it.

All this to say that the offer of an impromptu lesson is very helpful. And it's also a good distraction from the feeling of warm fuzziness when Tish praises her hugging capabilities. Not that that feeling is bad, far from it- but Lia's very much not used to feeling like this, and she'll definitely need some meditation time to fully process it.

So it's good to have something to focus on. Like picking a passcode. Hm... after thinking, Lia narrows her eyes and chooses the most difficult code she can imagine. 1...2...3...4. Devilish in its simplicity, no one would ever guess such a thing.

With that out of the way, it's time to learn about Magcord, and selfies, and the like. Lia is... not the best at taking selfies. Luckily Tish is there to hold the phone, and after a quick glance at her fellow princess Lia at least catches on that one is supposed to smile while taking pictures. She peers curiously at the end result. "Oh, it's like a little painting! How delightful!"

Despite her lack of knowledge, Lia is a quick learner, and remembers things well. And she's especially interested when Tish shows her how to access the internet.

"Huh... this is a lot more interesting than I thought. Communication is great, but that's just scratching the surface, isn't it? I'll have to spend some time figuring this out..." Perhaps she's catching on just a little too quickly.

Taking her nose out of her phone for the time being, she turns back to Tish with a happy grin. "Thank you so much for teaching me all this! I'll be sure to practice lots. And we can plan a time to see each other. Soon, I hope." She curtsies politely. "For now, it's late, so I'll bid you adieu!"

They're friends, of course, but that's no reason for manners to be cast by the wayside.

[TeChameleon]

[A Game of Scones]

A small chuckling noise. "I do feel like I did some of my best work with my first party, so there's that."

Then Eddie hesitated briefly, trying to parse what Quenn had said.

"Six years... constant... oooooh, the Count Orlok thing, right." Eddie made a rueful noise and shook his head, everpresent hood jiggling a little. "It was... it was bloody ridiculous, is what it was. A complete farce."

"See, the problem was, Carrickfergus Castle, where the Count had set up shop, is a state care historic monument. So we had some Johnnies from the North Eire DfC crawling about at all times. And I do mean at all times... had one screaming at me to not damage the historical artifacts while one of said artifacts was chewing on my arm. Even some of the animated corpses were were 'of historic significance or value', so we had to sort 'em while they whacked at us with all manner of weaponry, and if one of Orlok's imported jobs got mixed in, we got shouted at for contaminating the provenance of the historic site."

"Took eighteen months before we even saw the Count for the first time. And then he just chucked a mass of random relics, modern and historic, at us, then buggered off while the DfC twits scrambled all over everything and we tripped over them. Although Twinkleshine did clout him pretty solidly in the back of the head before he got out."

"Oh- this was with my first party- me, Twinkleshine the Enraged, Grogamagog the Magnificent, and Lightning Dancer of... Faemoonfaefae Moonglade Wooded Green, or some such nonsense. Changed every time it got mentioned. Twinkleshine is a pixie who fought with her fists- fourteen centimetres high, and I saw her beat a hydra to death with its own heads once. One of the strongest organics I've ever known. Grogamagog's an orcish thaumaturge and scholar, capable of incredible feats of magic. Plus he could crack walnuts with his biceps. And Lightning Dancer was our daggerelf, trapfinder, and cartographer. Impossibly fast and agile, and some of the sharpest eyes I've ever known."

"So poor Dancer often ended up being the one stuck with record-keeping detail while we smacked the skeletons until they stopped trying to murder everyone in reach, and Grogamagog had to magic the bits back together, while Twinkleshine and I did our best to keep the other undead from interfering with them or smashing the furniture, all while some government-issue nitwits crawled over everything, utterly single-minded in trying to keep the site pristine. By the end, we were actually pretty sure that the head DfC lunatic had gotten turned, but nobody noticed at the time, not even him."

[Shadowcaller]

[Prelude to Cat]

It was sensitive. And Quenn may be trying to like, smile it off, to not let it get to her. But Ambrosia can practically watch something inside her *crack*. This is apparently something that has been eating at her more than a little bit. And to hear some actual support, and encouragement?
Honestly, any support or encouragement at *all* is still very very new to her. But especially on something that still kept her up at night, like *this*?
This was . . . different.

But, sadly, she has to shake her head.
"I- I don't." She admits, biting her lower lip slightly to stop it from quivering. "I don't . . . remember. I saw it. One time.
My own dead body.
And I . . . I believe I had those memories stripped away. But be it willingly, to get them out or unwillingly, to make me more reliant on my tormenters, I . . . I don't know.

I remember, vaguely, that I was more akin to more of a . . . digital landscape, than pastoral.
But that is . . .

That is *all* I have." She admits, looking up at Ambrosia, her eyes misty, though she's doing a heroic job keeping from breaking.
Fully, anyway.

[Prelude to Cat]

"...would you prefer if we talked about something else?" Since this was going nowhere good it seemed. "I didn't mean to provoke such unpleasant memories." Or rather, she didn't know just how painful they still were.

[Mee]

[A Game of Scones]

A small chuckling noise. "I do feel like I did some of my best work with my first party, so there's that."

Then Eddie hesitated briefly, trying to parse what Quenn had said.

"Six years... constant... oooooh, the Count Orlok thing, right." Eddie made a rueful noise and shook his head, everpresent hood jiggling a little. "It was... it was bloody ridiculous, is what it was. A complete farce."

"See, the problem was, Carrickfergus Castle, where the Count had set up shop, is a state care historic monument. So we had some Johnnies from the North Eire DfC crawling about at all times. And I do mean at all times... had one screaming at me to not damage the historical artifacts while one of said artifacts was chewing on my arm. Even some of the animated corpses were were 'of historic significance or value', so we had to sort 'em while they whacked at us with all manner of weaponry, and if one of Orlok's imported jobs got mixed in, we got shouted at for contaminating the provenance of the historic site."

"Took eighteen months before we even saw the Count for the first time. And then he just chucked a mass of random relics, modern and historic, at us, then buggered off while the DfC twits scrambled all over everything and we tripped over them. Although Twinkleshine did clout him pretty solidly in the back of the head before he got out."

"Oh- this was with my first party- me, Twinkleshine the Enraged, Grogamagog the Magnificent, and Lightning Dancer of... Faemoonfaefae Moonglade Wooded Green, or some such nonsense. Changed every time it got mentioned. Twinkleshine is a pixie who fought with her fists- fourteen centimetres high, and I saw her beat a hydra to death with its own heads once. One of the strongest organics I've ever known. Grogamagog's an orcish thaumaturge and scholar, capable of incredible feats of magic. Plus he could crack walnuts with his biceps. And Lightning Dancer was our daggerelf, trapfinder, and cartographer. Impossibly fast and agile, and some of the sharpest eyes I've ever known."

"So poor Dancer often ended up being the one stuck with record-keeping detail while we smacked the skeletons until they stopped trying to murder everyone in reach, and Grogamagog had to magic the bits back together, while Twinkleshine and I did our best to keep the other undead from interfering with them or smashing the furniture, all while some government-issue nitwits crawled over everything, utterly single-minded in trying to keep the site pristine. By the end, we were actually pretty sure that the head DfC lunatic had gotten turned, but nobody noticed at the time, not even him."

[A Game of Scones]

Quenn shakes her head slightly. Heckin' little greeblies trying to eat your arm off. A thing she's dealt with more than a little bit herself, and she can sympathize with. Even vocalizes as much, but not in a disruptive way, she doesn't mean to throw him off at all.

"She was . . . huh. Tiny. But fierce." Quenn couldn't help but let a comment slip, when Twinkleshine is talked about. Goodness.

"Gosh. Artifacts you were told not to damage, but that were attacking you. An . . . eclectic party." She says this though, not with any sort of harshness behind it. It is strictly a positive and upbeat comment. "No one noticed by the end because he was already just so . . . . utterly fixated? And nothing really changed?" Quenn offers a bit, enjoying the story, and curious if there was any more to it.

[Prelude to Cat]

"...would you prefer if we talked about something else?" Since this was going nowhere good it seemed. "I didn't mean to provoke such unpleasant memories." Or rather, she didn't know just how painful they still were.

[Prelude to Cat]

"No I- I- I'm sorry I'm okay I all right I just . . .
Memories, you know?" Quenn just . . . needs a moment to collect herself.
Ambrosia's kind words, it seems honestly, were almost what was doing it so so much more than even the memories.

Quenn is . . .
Fairly clearly not *used* to support of positive comments.
It's not the memories, directly, that are painful (well. They are. But they're not what's doing it).
It's the kindness on display, and the realizing that she doesn't have to deal with this alone, in a hostile environment where she can't risk letting anything slip, or she'd be target number one.

Also whatever was happening to her voice there was probably not . . . good?
It was shifting slightly, in between words, almost getting more . . . reverb-y? Charged? Crackly, but in a more lightning way, than like, someone breaking up over voice communications on a bad connection.

It's probably . . . fine?

"I apologize. I just . . .
Am not used to support, I feel." She smiles slightly, dabbing at one eye just a bit, and frowning at the way the napkin carried away a part of her eyeshadow.
"I am okay. If you have more questions, I would be happy to try to answer them.
I just fear I may not have as thorough answers as you may want."

[TeChameleon]

[A Game of Scones]

Quenn shakes her head slightly. Heckin' little greeblies trying to eat your arm off. A thing she's dealt with more than a little bit herself, and she can sympathize with. Even vocalizes as much, but not in a disruptive way, she doesn't mean to throw him off at all.

"She was . . . huh. Tiny. But fierce." Quenn couldn't help but let a comment slip, when Twinkleshine is talked about. Goodness.

"Gosh. Artifacts you were told not to damage, but that were attacking you. An . . . eclectic party." She says this though, not with any sort of harshness behind it. It is strictly a positive and upbeat comment. "No one noticed by the end because he was already just so . . . . utterly fixated? And nothing really changed?" Quenn offers a bit, enjoying the story, and curious if there was any more to it.

[A Game of Scones]

"Whatever you say, Sanya." Eddie snorted to the 'tiny but fierce' comment, catching the reference.

"Even the end of that whole mess was ridiculous." the little golem noted. "Like I said, we were pretty sure that the the head DfC nutter was turned, but honestly, the only real difference that anyone could point out is that he was working through lunch a little more often. Well, that and the bite punctures on his neck, of course."

"But anyways, like I said, the ending was just as nonsensical as the rest. Turns out that our job wasn't actually to knock Orlok's block off, but to get one of the Bureaucramancers close enough to him to serve him with some papers. See, undead tend to get a bit single-minded, even the higher ones, and the count had gotten it into his pointy-eared head that Carrickfergus was his castle, and he was just trying to set up shop the way he always did when he got the 'for five hundred years I have slumbered, who has awoken me!' treatment." Eddie's voice was wry, and, despite being rather higher-pitched than usual, his intonation of 'for five hundred years' etc. was actually a pretty good imitation of the ancient-horror-booming-reverb voice.

"So we finally managed to fight our way to Orlok in an inner courtyard, and Twinkle got to him first. Drove him into the ground like a tent peg, too. Got a pretty solid bollocking for that by the DfC lot, but it kept old Countie in place long enough for the Bureaucramancer to cast Diplomatically Enforced Eviction Notice on him. And yes, I know Bureaucramancers have boring spell names, it seems to be a point of pride for them."

"Anyways, once that happened, Orlok sort of blinked, got himself dug out of the pavement, and started packing up to head back to the Carpathians in Romania and his proper castle. Even got a couple of his zombies to patch up some of the bits of the castle we hadn't been able to protect; turns out that the undead actually have an easier time getting their CSCS Gold cards than the living, I guess since they not only learned the historical building techniques, in some cases they invented them."

Eddie tilted his head at Quenn. "So a years-long undead siege can be caused by a senior moment in an old vampire, apparently. And the government actually has forms for that, which surprises me less than that it could happen in the first place."

[Shadowcaller]

[Prelude to Cat]

"No I- I- I'm sorry I'm okay I all right I just . . .
Memories, you know?" Quenn just . . . needs a moment to collect herself.
Ambrosia's kind words, it seems honestly, were almost what was doing it so so much more than even the memories.

Quenn is . . .
Fairly clearly not *used* to support of positive comments.
It's not the memories, directly, that are painful (well. They are. But they're not what's doing it).
It's the kindness on display, and the realizing that she doesn't have to deal with this alone, in a hostile environment where she can't risk letting anything slip, or she'd be target number one.

Also whatever was happening to her voice there was probably not . . . good?
It was shifting slightly, in between words, almost getting more . . . reverb-y? Charged? Crackly, but in a more lightning way, than like, someone breaking up over voice communications on a bad connection.

It's probably . . . fine?

"I apologize. I just . . .
Am not used to support, I feel." She smiles slightly, dabbing at one eye just a bit, and frowning at the way the napkin carried away a part of her eyeshadow.
"I am okay. If you have more questions, I would be happy to try to answer them.
I just fear I may not have as thorough answers as you may want."

[Prelude to Cat]

Support? She had just given words which wasn't really the same thing in her mind. Nonetheless it was clear that the experience had left Quenn's mind a bit scrambled which was understandable since they seemed to have used a far more primitive method of mind transference than she had when she had started using this body.

"Alright, if you're sure, Quenn..." The scholar gives her a smile and a nod of acknowledgement.
"Then let me ask you who or what helped you accomplish this transference. Do you recall anything about them at all?" And were they even trying to help her?

[Gullara]

[Tower Invitation]

Before long Zhareen and her two guests have moved to the Tower and have ascended up to Vax's study. Extra chairs were already secured to make sure everyone would have a place to sit for the ensuing conversation. At the moment, however, one of those chairs remains empty.

They've been waiting for five minutes already. Reilana is tapping her foot, her boots slightly exaggerating the little thump of each motion. It's hard to read if this is a sign of impatience or just an idle motion; her face remains neutral.

Then a butterfly flutters in through the open window. No... not a real butterfly, but skillfully folded paper. It comes up in front of Zhareen, hovers for a moment, and then drops as gravity reasserts itself (and the spirit occupying it departs). Opening it and she'll see a message in Vax's familiar handwriting.

Something's come up. Make our proposal and I'll join you before too long.

Oops, looks like Zhareen's on her own for a bit. Reilana just looks at her with a raised eyebrow now.

[Shadowcaller]

[Tower Invitation]

Zhareen suppressed a gasp as she read the message.
Something had come up! D=

Zhareen couldn't help but to ponder what terrible things her poor wifey might be tackling right now since they interfere with her usual punctuality.

But she had to put on a brave face for the kids.
Or teenagers as kids at this age wanted to be called she reminded herself as she looked at them.
"Alas, it looks like Vax, my one and only wife, can't be with us here today." She paused for a moment to let them come to terms with these news. "I know you've probably looked forward to meet her again but dark forces have conspired against her and she will be late."

The merfolk lets out a small sigh and looks between the two. "So I'm sorry to say that we'll have to go on without her, somehow." But she knew Vaxy would be proud of her as she hadn't even included the word 'kids' in that sentence.
"But what we wanted to extend an invitation to the both of you to join the Fourth Tower as acolytes as we believe you have the potential to become proper warlocks, shamans or whatever position of magical expertise you are striving for. With this offer comes lodging, food, and community should you want it. Though the only thing you have to accept in turn is the education we give to all our acolytes."

She raises her index finger. "Also, I should add, said education does not come with any interposed ideology. It's purely based in a scientifically developed method of communicating and dealing with conjured agents." Back in the day she would simply have said "And we're not a cult!" but she had been informed that's exactly what someone in a cult would say.

The clears her throat and smiles toothily at the pair. "So, do you have any questions?"

[Zefir]

Hallway -> Library

There is something strange happenening in HALO every few weeks. Many might just shrug it off as this world has magic and High tech stuff side by side. No wonder it seems totally normal (or maybe not) that there is a stack of books moving through the base, coming from the Dorms and heading to the library. It is even more strange that the stack is wobbling back and forth as it moves but the books keep perfectly in position.
If not interruptred the stack of book will enter the library and at a tabe it will suddendly turn 90 degrees to climb it up. The reason fro that is that the stack is carried by Mr. C and due to his size he has to walk tables up. Out of some strange magic the books remove themself from teh stack as Mr.C wants them to be put down as he returns them.

[Mee]

[A Game of Scones]

"Whatever you say, Sanya." Eddie snorted to the 'tiny but fierce' comment, catching the reference.

"Even the end of that whole mess was ridiculous." the little golem noted. "Like I said, we were pretty sure that the the head DfC nutter was turned, but honestly, the only real difference that anyone could point out is that he was working through lunch a little more often. Well, that and the bite punctures on his neck, of course."

"But anyways, like I said, the ending was just as nonsensical as the rest. Turns out that our job wasn't actually to knock Orlok's block off, but to get one of the Bureaucramancers close enough to him to serve him with some papers. See, undead tend to get a bit single-minded, even the higher ones, and the count had gotten it into his pointy-eared head that Carrickfergus was his castle, and he was just trying to set up shop the way he always did when he got the 'for five hundred years I have slumbered, who has awoken me!' treatment." Eddie's voice was wry, and, despite being rather higher-pitched than usual, his intonation of 'for five hundred years' etc. was actually a pretty good imitation of the ancient-horror-booming-reverb voice.

"So we finally managed to fight our way to Orlok in an inner courtyard, and Twinkle got to him first. Drove him into the ground like a tent peg, too. Got a pretty solid bollocking for that by the DfC lot, but it kept old Countie in place long enough for the Bureaucramancer to cast Diplomatically Enforced Eviction Notice on him. And yes, I know Bureaucramancers have boring spell names, it seems to be a point of pride for them."

"Anyways, once that happened, Orlok sort of blinked, got himself dug out of the pavement, and started packing up to head back to the Carpathians in Romania and his proper castle. Even got a couple of his zombies to patch up some of the bits of the castle we hadn't been able to protect; turns out that the undead actually have an easier time getting their CSCS Gold cards than the living, I guess since they not only learned the historical building techniques, in some cases they invented them."

Eddie tilted his head at Quenn. "So a years-long undead siege can be caused by a senior moment in an old vampire, apparently. And the government actually has forms for that, which surprises me less than that it could happen in the first place."

[A Game of Scones]

Ahhhh, Eddie is well read. Excellent. Quenn can't stop the grin from finding its way to her lips, nodding stoically.
Though it is a heck of a comparison to compare *her* to Sanya, but hey. Who's counting.

"S'always the bite marks'n the neck" Quenn agrees with a shake of her head.

"Wait, y-" She starts to ask, a bit of a grin starting to form, and a titter of laughter starting to bubble up. "Y'served him papers. I guess paperwork comes f'r us all . . ." she shakes her head, reminiscing over her own situation here at Halo.
So many papers . . .

"I- . . . goodness. There're forms for everything, huh? I would never 'ave 'spected it, but . . . yeah I believe it. I've seen some of our own papers.

Also good on 'em, revitalizing(?????) old techniques. That's actually real neat. S'a good story. Thank you, Eddie."

[Prelude to Cat]

Support? She had just given words which wasn't really the same thing in her mind. Nonetheless it was clear that the experience had left Quenn's mind a bit scrambled which was understandable since they seemed to have used a far more primitive method of mind transference than she had when she had started using this body.

"Alright, if you're sure, Quenn..." The scholar gives her a smile and a nod of acknowledgement.
"Then let me ask you who or what helped you accomplish this transference. Do you recall anything about them at all?" And were they even trying to help her?

[Prelude to Cat]

Ambrosia may view them as just some words, but to Quenn, they meant so so *so* much more. Where she's from, words like that were opening yourself to be viewed as weak. And weakness . . . was purged.

It takes another few moments, before she nods again and, with a bit of a shrug, offers that:
"I did. Wasn't a planned thing, wasn't something I had set up beforehand, jus' . . . suddenly found myself *outta* myself, and fading away quickly. It's a real weird sensation, feelin' the color drain from your vision. To feel your senses but like they're . . . further'n'further away from you . . .
And t'oversimplify, I pushed some buttons, flipped some switches, and got extremely lucky that HALO's supply had a swarm'a nanobots.

It was a move of desperation, in the last fleeting moments I had, to try to . . . *not* go quietly into that good night." She shrugs, a bit helplessly. "So I can, at least, say that their *intentions* were good." she grins a bit, still trying to recover her mood. this is a painful subject, but it *is* good to just talk about it. To explain, explore, and to stop letting it have so much power over her.

[Shadowcaller]

[Prelude to Cat]

"I see. Guess I at least have had some out-of-body experiences before if that's what you're describing. Never heard it put in such terms though, you make it sound a lot more electronical than I'm used to." Quenn was indeed an interesting being. Dragons didn't often care much for technology, with notable exceptions, yet Quenn seemed to at least have enough understanding of them that she used them as metaphors.

Ambrosia leans in. "I'm genuinely glad that your will to live was so strong that you overcame though, or I wouldn't have ever gotten to know you, Quenn." She smiles. "But you mentioned HALO's nanobots, you're saying that HALO saved you afterwards then? Since it feels like I'm missing that part of the story.

[Arkhosia]

[Tower Invitation]

Dulcinea sits by Reilana’s side, hands folded across her purse. She maintains a slim, polite smile for the most part, her posture elegant and relaxed… though her lips do quirk upwards at the corner when she casts a glance towards her partner. My my, impatient already? Well, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t also feel held up. In another situation, she’d even be willing to consider Vax’s untimeliness a possible sign of disrespect – but with her own beloved partner here too, it didn’t seem very likely. Besides, Vax hadn’t struck Dulcinea as the kind of woman to engage in calculated social maneuvers when it delayed practical matters of business.

The cost-benefit analysis of reaching over to clasp Reilana’s hand had just begun to flit through Dulcinea’s mind when a flutter of red catches the corner of her eye. She turns to watch the origami butterfly make its way towards Zhareen’s desk, straightening slightly in her wheelchair.

“Oh! How unfortunate.” The young woman offers Zhareen a look of sympathy before allowing the merfolk to continue, her eyebrows raising in surprise. “You’re interested in admitting both of us?” As far as she recalled from their visit to the hospital, Zhareen and Vax’s interests had largely oriented towards Reilana. Not that this was a problem – in fact, it made their own goals a little bit easier.

[Gullara]

[Tower Invitation]

Zhareen suppressed a gasp as she read the message.
Something had come up! D=

Zhareen couldn't help but to ponder what terrible things her poor wifey might be tackling right now since they interfere with her usual punctuality.

But she had to put on a brave face for the kids.
Or teenagers as kids at this age wanted to be called she reminded herself as she looked at them.
"Alas, it looks like Vax, my one and only wife, can't be with us here today." She paused for a moment to let them come to terms with these news. "I know you've probably looked forward to meet her again but dark forces have conspired against her and she will be late."

The merfolk lets out a small sigh and looks between the two. "So I'm sorry to say that we'll have to go on without her, somehow." But she knew Vaxy would be proud of her as she hadn't even included the word 'kids' in that sentence.
"But what we wanted to extend an invitation to the both of you to join the Fourth Tower as acolytes as we believe you have the potential to become proper warlocks, shamans or whatever position of magical expertise you are striving for. With this offer comes lodging, food, and community should you want it. Though the only thing you have to accept in turn is the education we give to all our acolytes."

She raises her index finger. "Also, I should add, said education does not come with any interposed ideology. It's purely based in a scientifically developed method of communicating and dealing with conjured agents." Back in the day she would simply have said "And we're not a cult!" but she had been informed that's exactly what someone in a cult would say.

The clears her throat and smiles toothily at the pair. "So, do you have any questions?"

[Tower Invitation]

Dulcinea sits by Reilana’s side, hands folded across her purse. She maintains a slim, polite smile for the most part, her posture elegant and relaxed… though her lips do quirk upwards at the corner when she casts a glance towards her partner. My my, impatient already? Well, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t also feel held up. In another situation, she’d even be willing to consider Vax’s untimeliness a possible sign of disrespect – but with her own beloved partner here too, it didn’t seem very likely. Besides, Vax hadn’t struck Dulcinea as the kind of woman to engage in calculated social maneuvers when it delayed practical matters of business.

The cost-benefit analysis of reaching over to clasp Reilana’s hand had just begun to flit through Dulcinea’s mind when a flutter of red catches the corner of her eye. She turns to watch the origami butterfly make its way towards Zhareen’s desk, straightening slightly in her wheelchair.

“Oh! How unfortunate.” The young woman offers Zhareen a look of sympathy before allowing the merfolk to continue, her eyebrows raising in surprise. “You’re interested in admitting both of us?” As far as she recalled from their visit to the hospital, Zhareen and Vax’s interests had largely oriented towards Reilana. Not that this was a problem – in fact, it made their own goals a little bit easier.

[Tower Invitation]

Reilana's incessant tapping ceases when Zhareen starts to speak. She leans forever in her seat, focused, "I'm not entirely sure why you asked for me." She admits. "Dulcinea gave me some impression, but I'd rather hear it from you. Since you're making proposals of me, but I don't even know what it is you want from me." She's not forgetting that they asked for her here, not the other way around.

[Shadowcaller]

[Tower Invitation]

"Oh, that's quite simple actually. We usually don't do... I think the term is 'headhunting'? Awful word really." Zhareen shakes her head. "But we don't usually reach out to people with offers like these. Where we're from the fourth tower has a long tradition of accepting promising youngsters-" That designation wasn't too synonymous with children, right?

"-into our ranks so they usually come to us." The merwoman gestures at the map of Elshar which is hanging on the wall of her office. "However, around here we have to adapt to the fact we're completely unknown and reach out to any person of your age that we think have potential rather than the other way around. It's really just making sure that our ranks aren't eventually depleted. If you decline then we're simply going to make the offer to someone else." The warlock spreads her arms to her sides.
"So while we consider you both special in your own way you're not the only ones getting this offer."

Zhareen shifts her gaze between the pair. "And if you're wonder what we consider special I feel that's almost self-explanatory." She gestures to Reilana. "Reilana, you might be something of a necromantic prodigy which is something that especially excites Vax since she knows a thing or two about that herself."
She gives her a nod of acknowledgement and then turns to Dulcie. "And you miss Hortensis is possession of an extraordinary connection to spirits which we think has a lot of hidden potential if you're allowed to understand it which is something I believe we can help out with."
Gesturing to the fourth tower banner hanging behind her she continues. "These two things are what most of our members possess in one form or another so you would fit right in."

[Shadowcaller]

[Cat Meet]

Ambrosia was in a bit of a hurry as she knocked on the door to Rein's office. It was an unscheduled meeting but it was important. And once she was done here she would need to visit Rowan.
So she hoped that this would all go smoothly and Rein wasn't busy with something else. Like chasing a ball of yarn.

[Reinholdt]

[Cat Meet]

Quenn has always been really good at giving Reinholdt a heads up when an unscheduled meeting was about to happen so Rein has ample time to get off his now paperless desk, get in a good stretch, walk around a few times, reconsider whether he can fall asleep again, and then finally get in his chair and turn human-ish. So he's more or less in there twiddling his thumbs by the time Ambrosia knocks.

"Come in."

Rein's office is cozy. Nice rug, nice chairs, fancy desk, liquor cabinet, bookshelf, and even an antique looking record player, though it's actually one of those faux new ones that just look antique. A glowing purple crystal sitting on the desk stands out as does a red hood hanging on the wall for decoration, which is odd because it looks old and tattered with holes. You usually want something nicer looking than that. Like the spyglass hanging on the wall next to it or the small model skeleton of a dragon made of gold that sits atop his liquor cabinet and stares down at the occupants. At least, one hopes it's a model.

[Shadowcaller]

[Cat Meet]

She had been in the catoffice before yet the golden dragon model always drew her attention. Rein had told her it was a model and she wasn't going to make him take it down so she could get a closer look at it. But yet she couldn't help but to wonder every time she saw it.

But this wasn't the time to look at models, she had important information.

"Hello Reinholdt." She greets while walking inside, her armor all polished and nice. She had recently cleaned it.
"I'm afraid I bring ill tidings so I'm going to get straight to the point." The scholar remarks as she takes a seat, not waiting for him to offer it. "A being named 12, which I know at least one of your clones is familiar with, is going to try to get her hands on your cloning technology. Possibly through a deal, potentially through blackmail. All I know is that she won't hesitate in using force to get what she wants."

[Mee]

[Prelude to Cat]

"I see. Guess I at least have had some out-of-body experiences before if that's what you're describing. Never heard it put in such terms though, you make it sound a lot more electronical than I'm used to." Quenn was indeed an interesting being. Dragons didn't often care much for technology, with notable exceptions, yet Quenn seemed to at least have enough understanding of them that she used them as metaphors.

Ambrosia leans in. "I'm genuinely glad that your will to live was so strong that you overcame though, or I wouldn't have ever gotten to know you, Quenn." She smiles. "But you mentioned HALO's nanobots, you're saying that HALO saved you afterwards then? Since it feels like I'm missing that part of the story.

[Prelude to Cat]

"It . . . it definitely was. More electronical than I know I ever imagined. But I guess those were the tools I had on hand. I had a computer. I had a back up body. So I forced the square peg through the round hole, as it were. Do not recommend though." She shakes her head slightly. Even if the exact memories were a little blurry and fuzzed by time, pain, and distress, the sheer, raw, *uncomfortableness* was still memorable. "And I've always had a . . . fondness, I suppose? For electronics. For these little machines. For the rocks that people tricked into thinking. They're fascinating, and you can do so much with them."

She smiles slightly, but warmly, nodding once. "I- am as well. Thank you. I am thankful every day just to be here.
And yes. Yes sorry I didn't offer much context I suppose.
This all happened here. In HALO. This is where it all started. Ended? Reborn? Heck if I know a proper term for it." she laughs once, shaking her head, her hair leaving lingering trails of light in the air where the tips swish. "But yeah, this all happened here. I used HALO's tools, computers, and supplies to save myself. They happened to have some nanobots around in a room somewhere. I stole them. I uploaded myself to them. Made a new body out of them. And then ran away for a long time.

And now kinda wanting to . . . atone, I suppose? Try to help. I feel I owe HALO and the folks here . . . literally everything. So . . . you know.

May as well help out with some paperwork, eh?"

[Mee]

[A Game of Scones]

"Whatever you say, Sanya." Eddie snorted to the 'tiny but fierce' comment, catching the reference.

"Even the end of that whole mess was ridiculous." the little golem noted. "Like I said, we were pretty sure that the the head DfC nutter was turned, but honestly, the only real difference that anyone could point out is that he was working through lunch a little more often. Well, that and the bite punctures on his neck, of course."

"But anyways, like I said, the ending was just as nonsensical as the rest. Turns out that our job wasn't actually to knock Orlok's block off, but to get one of the Bureaucramancers close enough to him to serve him with some papers. See, undead tend to get a bit single-minded, even the higher ones, and the count had gotten it into his pointy-eared head that Carrickfergus was his castle, and he was just trying to set up shop the way he always did when he got the 'for five hundred years I have slumbered, who has awoken me!' treatment." Eddie's voice was wry, and, despite being rather higher-pitched than usual, his intonation of 'for five hundred years' etc. was actually a pretty good imitation of the ancient-horror-booming-reverb voice.

"So we finally managed to fight our way to Orlok in an inner courtyard, and Twinkle got to him first. Drove him into the ground like a tent peg, too. Got a pretty solid bollocking for that by the DfC lot, but it kept old Countie in place long enough for the Bureaucramancer to cast Diplomatically Enforced Eviction Notice on him. And yes, I know Bureaucramancers have boring spell names, it seems to be a point of pride for them."

"Anyways, once that happened, Orlok sort of blinked, got himself dug out of the pavement, and started packing up to head back to the Carpathians in Romania and his proper castle. Even got a couple of his zombies to patch up some of the bits of the castle we hadn't been able to protect; turns out that the undead actually have an easier time getting their CSCS Gold cards than the living, I guess since they not only learned the historical building techniques, in some cases they invented them."

Eddie tilted his head at Quenn. "So a years-long undead siege can be caused by a senior moment in an old vampire, apparently. And the government actually has forms for that, which surprises me less than that it could happen in the first place."

[A Game of Scones mk 2 but better electric boogaloo]

"You know, not to change the subject in any way," except actually *to* change the subject a bit, because Quenn really really doesn't wanna share her own stories. After she had thanked him for his story in the last post though!

"But hm . . . instead of a story, could I show you a little thing I've been working on?" she asks with a grin. If given a yes, she'll pull out, of all things, a deck of cards. Sealed and wrapped, from a shelf where they've lain ignored for . . . years probably under the TV. She slits the packaging, flicks out the couple of jokers at the top, tossing them down behind her into the TV base, face up so Eddie can tell she's not about to cheat, and then starts shuffling.

And this is no ordinary shuffling.
This is the shuffle of a professional. Of someone who has spent countless hundreds if not thousands of hours perfecting the art of mixing cards together. Randomly.

"Randomly". Riffling them together, splitting them, drawing from the top and bottom chunks of the deck at the same time flawlessly, seamlessly, and smoothly.
While she does though, she starts to strike up a bit of a conversation.
"Have you . . . heard of game speed running? You seem the sort to be able to just . . . sit and focus on just one thing and then execute it super well. And that . . . is basically speedrunning to a T. Have you heard of much?

Also pick a card?" she asks, splaying the deck out in front of him, backs facing upwards.

[Reinholdt]

[Cat Meet]

Reinholdt is prepared to offer Ambrosia a drink, but it seems she's eager to get to the point. Rein leans back a little in his chair as she shares her information. 12... 12... oh yes, the leader of iii. Not really a him thing, but 12 might not care which clone in particular she goes after so he guesses it's a him thing now.

"My technology, huh? It would be easier to go after Magtok's I would think." Though his existence has been flickering as of late. Rein's never quite sure if the cyborg will survive or not and always has mixed feelings as to the idea his longest standing rival might disappear one day too.

"And how did you come by this information?" Reinholdt asks. There's always been the expectation of retaliation from 12 at some point, but in pursuit of his cloning technology was not one of the things that's really been high on the ways she would do it.

[TeChameleon]

[A Game of Scones]

Eddie made a go-ahead gesture at Quenn's offer of showing him something she'd been working on. The little golem tilted his head at the deck of cards. He was... peripherally aware of card tricks, thanks to the rabbit hole he'd gone down when Darko introduced him to sleight-of-hand, but stage magic in general was still pretty foreign to him. After all, when your world of origin is all-but-drowning in magic, doing things that look like magic but aren't seems like a somewhat wasted effort.

Then he shook his head when asked about speedrunning. "No, I haven't encountered this 'speedrunning' concept before; it is, after all, only through your efforts that I have been able to play games at all. But precise execution is something that interests me; anything that allows me to train in controlling my strength is helpful. Also, this one." he added, tapping the back of the second card from the left.

[Shadowcaller]

[Prelude to Cat]

"It . . . it definitely was. More electronical than I know I ever imagined. But I guess those were the tools I had on hand. I had a computer. I had a back up body. So I forced the square peg through the round hole, as it were. Do not recommend though." She shakes her head slightly. Even if the exact memories were a little blurry and fuzzed by time, pain, and distress, the sheer, raw, *uncomfortableness* was still memorable. "And I've always had a . . . fondness, I suppose? For electronics. For these little machines. For the rocks that people tricked into thinking. They're fascinating, and you can do so much with them."

She smiles slightly, but warmly, nodding once. "I- am as well. Thank you. I am thankful every day just to be here.
And yes. Yes sorry I didn't offer much context I suppose.
This all happened here. In HALO. This is where it all started. Ended? Reborn? Heck if I know a proper term for it." she laughs once, shaking her head, her hair leaving lingering trails of light in the air where the tips swish. "But yeah, this all happened here. I used HALO's tools, computers, and supplies to save myself. They happened to have some nanobots around in a room somewhere. I stole them. I uploaded myself to them. Made a new body out of them. And then ran away for a long time.

And now kinda wanting to . . . atone, I suppose? Try to help. I feel I owe HALO and the folks here . . . literally everything. So . . . you know.

May as well help out with some paperwork, eh?"

[Cat Meet]

That's the first question he went with? Well, it felt like she had confirmed that he definitely wasn't the same clone as the Rein 12 had talked about.
"I had a meeting with her. Or more accurately, she had a meeting with Migeshi, who she knows under the name Nestrix. That's just between you and me though since I'm trying to find out more about her and her organization and would prefer to be as secretive as possible."

Ambrosia taps her metal clad fingers against the handrest of the chair. "As for why she went with you instead of Magtok, I got the feeling she had some kind of history with your clone. Likely not a good one considering that she seemed like a woman with many enemies."

[Prelude to Cat]

Ambrosia felt really tempted to share her own other-body experiences but she had just met this woman, she would have to do a background check on her first at the very least.

"I suppose I have my own fascination with those electronic devices." The scholar smiles back.
Though she was not nearly fascinated enough to want to be bound by them like this. Yet she supposed it was better than the alternative.

"But just to make sure I understand, you stole equipment from HALO in order to save yourself? I guess the old HALO might have felt different about that but the new one would have just helped you out with your operation."

A beat.

"...you're not working for Rein for free, right? Since there's really no need to feel that guilty is what I'm saying."

[Reinholdt]

[Cat Meet]

When you only have one question, it tends to be the first one.

"Well be really careful. Her organization is extremely dangerous and cross dimensional. They do a lot of science for self sort of stuff over there. They're kind of an anti-HALO in that regard and there's no level to which they won't stoop." All the more reason to be extra careful if 12 is coming after the cloning tech. Rein will have to implement extra safeguards and raise the Rein Community Threat Level to Dog.

"They'd probably love to recruit you if they felt they could." Rein might also have to implement safeguards to keep iii from sniping his HALO employees. Perhaps a pizza party...

[Shadowcaller]

[Cat Meet]

"Well be really careful. Her organization is extremely dangerous and cross dimensional. They do a lot of science for self sort of stuff over there. They're kind of an anti-HALO in that regard and there's no level to which they won't stoop."

[Cat Meet]

"So I've been told. From what I've seen they already employed a dragon that ended up as a test subject when they supposedly turned on 12." Not really encouraging, especially considering Ambrosia doubted that the poor dragon was the only example of that. "So I have more reasons than just immoral business practices to be careful with her."

"They'd probably love to recruit you if they felt they could." Rein might also have to implement safeguards to keep iii from sniping his HALO employees. Perhaps a pizza party...

"But 12 made no secret that she wanted an alliance with me. While she never gave me a specific offer she didn't go easy on the compliments or the things she could offer me if I did a job for her. Basically, she is trying to create the perfect body to, for a lack of a better term, possess. She believes she's done this in the body of a elven child that she keeps floating in a tank." A frown comes over her face as she shares this particular information. But she doesn't articulate her distaste for it.

"Yet this 'vessel' has a weakness to 'narrative magic' as she called it and that's a weakness a particular group of her enemies could exploit. The offer she made me was to take out these enemies, spirits that made their home in a magical theater, and report back to her."

The scholar pauses for a moment to let all this information sink in.

"My intentions are to investigate this theater as I am and see if I can learn more from these spirits. I might even take out a few of them depending on what I learn."

[Mee]

[Prelude to Cat]

Ambrosia felt really tempted to share her own other-body experiences but she had just met this woman, she would have to do a background check on her first at the very least.

"I suppose I have my own fascination with those electronic devices." The scholar smiles back.
Though she was not nearly fascinated enough to want to be bound by them like this. Yet she supposed it was better than the alternative.

"But just to make sure I understand, you stole equipment from HALO in order to save yourself? I guess the old HALO might have felt different about that but the new one would have just helped you out with your operation."

A beat.

"...you're not working for Rein for free, right? Since there's really no need to feel that guilty is what I'm saying."

[Prelude to Cat]

Oh gosh. A background check on Quenn would likely find . . . very little. This iteration of Quenn has truly only existed for however long the body cloning process took, plus about a week and a half. Should be a quick search though at least!

"They are interesting for sure! It's just . . . fascinating, right? Folks tricked a rock into thinking for them. Sort of. Kind of? I guess more like . . . . taking logical steps and doing math for us. I dunno. But they're interesting!" Quenn looks down at her computer and has a sudden, genuinely kind of mind altering realization in that exact moment. But Ambrosia has a follow up question! So she'll bring it up in a moment. But Ambrosia can likely tell that Quenn just realized *something*.
Curious~

"Y-yeah, though. That-that's right-" Her eyes, well, her right eye anyway, seems to crackle slightly, as if lightning were dancing through her iris, her other one just glowed brightly, steadily and almost more pulsing to her other eye's crackling. The nails on her hands also sparked and danced in that brief moment, and her voice got a bit reverb-y? But just for a brief moment, then they settled back, just as quickly as they had changed.
And she keeps talking, as if Quenn herself did not notice that anything had happened. "I ended up stealing equipment to save myself. It wasn't a _lot_, I took about a body's volume worth of nanites from the nanite stores that I don't think we have here any more anywhere that I've been able to find, but they were self replicating, and I definitely left enough that HALO's supply should have rebuilt. But I did steal it. And then I vanished.

And no, no no of course. Rein does pay me. He pays me in, quote, Competitive Wages to the Current Job Economy, I think he put it.
I haven't been working long enough to get my first paycheck, but he does pay me."

But then a beat, and she looks around the paperwork filled room, nibbling her lower lip. She looks down at the computer, with her 400+ web browser tabs open. Her multiple different Transcend spread-sheets. Her countless open Letters documents.
"Is- is my being a dragon why I'm *here*? Like . . .
in this chair. In this office.
Is this . . ." she looks around, taking it all in, her voice curious, unsure, and obviously asking herself just as much as it is asking Ambrosia, "my hoard? Is this why I'm more happy? Comfy? *here*? In this office? With these papers?"

[A Game of Scones]

Eddie made a go-ahead gesture at Quenn's offer of showing him something she'd been working on. The little golem tilted his head at the deck of cards. He was... peripherally aware of card tricks, thanks to the rabbit hole he'd gone down when Darko introduced him to sleight-of-hand, but stage magic in general was still pretty foreign to him. After all, when your world of origin is all-but-drowning in magic, doing things that look like magic but aren't seems like a somewhat wasted effort.

Then he shook his head when asked about speedrunning. "No, I haven't encountered this 'speedrunning' concept before; it is, after all, only through your efforts that I have been able to play games at all. But precise execution is something that interests me; anything that allows me to train in controlling my strength is helpful. Also, this one." he added, tapping the back of the second card from the left.

[A Game of Scones]

The card chosen was, in fact, the ace of hearts!!

"A'ight so you remember your card, yeah? Would you put it back in the deck please, face down, and don't let me see it!" the trick continues, with her shuffling the deck a few times in quick, precise movements. It's genuinely just *fun* to watch the cards dance and fly between her fingers, flitting here and there, riffling together and splitting apart. She even offers it to him after a few times. Even at one point, doing a fun little 360 degree spin while letting the cards perfectly shoot over from her right hand, well above her shoulder at this point, down into her left palm down by her thigh. That one wasn't shuffling, but it *is* a *lot* of fun to watch.
And all the while, she's talking about how the card is lost, we can agree it's lost, it's been shuffled so many times, in fact she doesn't even know if there are *any* cards left in this deck she's shuffled it so many times, haha. And then he shuffled it! And gosh now it's REALLY gone.

Eventually though, with a grin, she holds the deck in one hand, and snaps the fingers of her right, a little cloud of lightning radiating from that spark, and then she *flips the deck over*, revealing the bottom most card:
"And now, the card you picked was lost, horribly horribly so. But, with the snap of my magic fingers, there will now be one card, flipped over. And it-" she continues, splaying the cards out wide, with exactly one card still back-facing up in the middle of the deck. "and is *this*, your card?" she asks, dramatically taking it out, closing the deck back up, and proudly displaying . . .
. . .
. . . . . .
The Joker card she had pulled out at the start?

And somewhere in the middle, talking more about speedrunning, she adds in while shuffling and playing with the cards quickly and precisely.
"Ohhhh oh you'd love it then I think. It's basically . . . find a game you're interested in, and then perfect your inputs and timings to maximize how fast you do . . . whatever the objective of the game may be. Like, a racing game? memorize the *exact* moments you start to turn or let off the brakes to take the corners perfectly.
An adventure game? If side stepping moves you a tiny bit faster then walking forwards, then you learn the exact angles, methods of spacing, and button patterns to *jump* between locations as fast as possible.
Sometimes it'll be learning how to do a glitch -- like, there's one adventure game where if you . . . I forget the exacts. But basically you equip a stick, light it on fire, find a way to store it in your bag, then pull it back out, and that breaks the game's logic in such a way that it can 'attack' every single frame of the game, and it can defeat the final boss in like a second, rather than doing the fight normally --, and some other times it's just all about knowing the *exact* route and executing on it *perfectly*. It's a lot of fun!!"

[Shadowcaller]

[Prelude to Cat]

"Competitive wages...?" What in the world did that mean? It reminded her of terms that 'CEO' dragon had tossed around during their interview which probably wasn't a good thing. "But I think electronic devices are more akin to a well-made fireplace than a thinking stone. You use stones in a fireplace to encircle fire, as in energy. They are thus only intended to direct said energy where it's needed, just in a far more precise and complicated manner." The scholar attempts to explain.

She didn't understand it fully either but it was the best analogue she had for it.

But after that little diversion she continues listening and follows Quenn's gaze as she looks over to her tab, giving her a nod as she speculates about her draconic nature. "There's no 'wrong' way of being a dragon. Rather than to reduce so-called 'draconic behavior' to only be certain specific set of wants and needs I try to use the interviewee's own definitions of the word. So if you feel more like a dragon in this office while engaging in these activities then yes, this is you being a dragon right now."