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Rita Ma	AQULEIA, CAPITAL OF ETRURIA      Passing through downtown.      (Dieck did, in fact, model topless. If any actual business discussion happened that night, Ace discovered he's got a ruthless eye for the dynamics of money and power- and too much of a soft heart to really use it.)      - - - -      When Fae finally gets to leave the shelter of a lizard-pulled wagon or an inconspicuous inn, it's only wearing a big drab cloak with an oversized hood that keeps falling over her eyes. Her pupils, forehead-brand, and little pointy ears wouldn't escape notice, otherwise. Igrene, her adoptive mother, is dressed similarly drably to make her stand out less; Sophia is extremely purple as always, but only needs to avoid making eye contact with strangers to stay concealed, which comes naturally to her anyway.      Then again, if anything does get remarked-upon, they can always claim to be offworld weirdos. That might be part of the point of surrounding themselves with you.      Fae is immediately awestruck by the city's scale, its greenery, maybe the mere existence of 'people she doesn't know', a rare occurrence. It's all Igrene can do to keep up with her zooming between market stalls, wobbly-walking on the edges of fountains, and excitedly tugging on a half-doen people's sleeves: "What's that cloth?? Feels nice..." "Oh-- it's rude to grab people!" "Fae's Fae! What's your name!" "Hi, little girl! I'm Rodric. Where's your mother?" "Where are you going in a hurry!" "Me? Oh, the theater. There's a play-- is that a tattoo on your forehead?" "Fae. I'm very sorry, we're going." Igrene hurriedly pulls her away by the arm.      Assorted attractions among the bustling market-stalls and storefronts of downtown:      - Pastries and confections, usually containing fruit preserves or cream, are a point of Aquilean pride; Merlinus probably learned his craft here. They use a croissant-like dough for versatile sweet-or-hearty street foods like crepes.      - A wishing fountain! That's where Roy meets back up with the three Arcadians, after solemnly tossing in a coin himself.      - Dieck is booked for one more match nearby- "Can't back out," he said- and Fae whines extensively about the fact that Igrene won't let her in to watch literal bloodsports.      - Sophia takes a little detour into a bookstore, trying unsuccessfully to procure magical tomes for herself (they look at her a little funny when she asks for dark magic) and some light reading for Fae, who's very proud of being able to read grownup-books.      But things likely settle down with everyone gathered around the fountain again. Midday, most people have someplace else to be, and its burbling makes conversation not carry so far.
Dysnomia	Dysnomia continues to keep her Elibian wardrobe in good repair--every time something is burned away by arrows of light from the sky, or a sword, she finds someone to put it back together by the time Roy's army calls them all back. It's an expense--but it's not one that Dysnomia can ever bear to begrudge. Of all the places she'd like to feel a little more at home, here.     Since her near breakdown, in close proximity to the Demon Dragon and Zephiel in the flesh, she'd been quiet. Even now, her sort of melancholy is only really broken by the delightful enthusiasm of little Fae. She loved to watch her enjoy herself, to feel the rebound of the little dragon's wonder and awe.     It's the coin, dropped into the fountain, that inspired her to try to give Igrene a brief break from Fae management with story time. "Fae, there's something about these fountains you might want to know..." She beckoned the little dragon closer, leaning on it. "You see those coins there, in the water...?"     "People say, if you drop a coin in a fountain like this and make a wish..." Dysnomia intoned, gravely. "...It might come true."     "Would you like to try?" After handing out gold nuggets to try to pay for things half a dozen times, Dysnomia had finally been inspired to visit a Elibian moneychanger--so far, mostly used to purchase pastries to fix up her clothes, pastries Fae and the gold piece, resting now in her outstretched hand.
Flamel Parsons	Flamel Parsons is back to something that stands out a lot less, in the sense that it looks like the local equivalent of a man-in-black. What's the non-anachronistic equivalent of a man in black? Well, an acolyte of a vague yet ominous order, which involves a bit of robe, a bit of hood, and a lot of un-dyed or minimally-dyed linen. Good for the changing season. He's a lot less stressed out now, after a while to decompress and a longer while to have his head examined, though the built-up agony from weeks back is still worth attacking sometime.     He keeps near Fae -- "I'm on-call in case you need anyone's memories wiped!" He'd said -- and also to get delicious confections, many of which he scarfs down to relieve stress and some of which he has stocked for feeding Fae.     When he gets to the fountain, and listens to Dysnomia, what he throws in isn't a coin, but rather, a strange stone arrowhead that he fished out of one pocket and then whispered something into. It emits a soft purple spark when it hits the water, and bubbles actively for a little, in glowing pops that don't draw attention but do catch the eye. "Big ideas don't usually fit into a fountain-wish, psychologically. Stuff that changes the world, it usually fails to spark. But a small wish does a lot, somewhere like this! Trust me, I've met plenty of wishes." Whatever the hell that means.
Madeleine Cadrasteia	Madeleine was a little shaken after the recent standoff at Trideag HQ, but a chance to see Fae again seems to have her cheered up, or at least distracted. She's wearing a different jacket, with fewer spikes than her usual, but still in black and little else about her outfit has changed. She must buy those leggings in bulk.     When she passes the pastry stall, she snaps her fingers as if remembering something and stops to make a purchase. Even if a little overdue, she owes someone sweets and intends to make good on the deal. Several cream pastries go into a little parchment wrapper, which Madeleine carries in both hands, intent to see it not get smushed.     Her first order of business on arrival at the fountain is with Roy. "Can you make sure Lugh gets these?" she asks, holding out the parcel of sweets. "I don't know how often you've been seeing the kids but I'm sure you could get Father Lucius to bring him around before they curdle..." Internally, Madeleine winces. 'The kids'. Which Roy isn't, can't be. A carefree youth denied is not something Maddie can sympathize with - she barely remembers her own - but it's gotta be rough, and reminders of it wouldn't help.     "So, ah..." she reaches for a different topic and picks what may not be the right one. "You seem to be healing up well."
Khosa	Khosa doesn't really do babysitting, but she *does* do guarding, and if they want to distract people from looking at the in-world weirdoes, she can certainly play up looking like an outworld weirdo. Not that she really needs to. Even disregarding any of the many other ways Khosa stands out, anyone can look at her ears; they may not be elven-long but they are pointed enough to stand out. She resembles Fae in no other way, really, but at least they can point at her if someone makes a fuss about Fae's ears. (The crest and the eyes, someone else will have to cover.) Other than that she seems to consider herself on guard duty. Khosa wanted to see the arena, but stuck with most of the group instead. She promised herself a trip afterwards, though, and she definitely went into every shop anyone else did, as much out of curiosity as anything else - her money isn't really any good here, and even a moneychanger is unlikely to have much interest in it, so she's been pretty short on actually *buying* anything. She made an exception for a fruit pastry though. "I can't get over things like this," she says, very deliberately getting near the fountain enough that any spray kicked up and caught by the wind is likely to hit her bare arms. "I've been by rivers and even the sea now, but just being able to have a fountain like this, sitting out in the open... You can even *smell* it." That is not a complaint. But to throw coins in it? Khosa digs in one of the small pouches riding at her hip and pulls out a red-glazed ceramic fragment - it's a tenth broken off a decagon, glazed red, with the silhouette of a slightly curved sword point-down toward the point on the back. She considers it for a moment and then flicks it in, watching it sink. "Never heard of that before, either," she admits, to those who brought it up - Dysnomia and Flamel most recently. "But why not? Nobody ever didn't need some good luck."
Petra Soroka	Petra has definitely looked better. It's her first time back in Elibe since... everything, and the knowledge that helping babysit Fae is just an emotional on-ramp to getting herself ready to leapfrog back into the Lycian war effort makes her feel ill. Every thought that passes through her head and flicks across her face makes her feel ill, in fact, and that self-perpetuating torturous process continues right up until linking with the locals. Spitefully, out of guilt for finding a child easier to approach than a second war in as many months, Petra immediately resolves to commit herself to making sure Fae has as much fun as possible today.     She's not exactly in the best state to provide that, though, with bags under her eyes and new weeks-old wounds that look months-old instead. Her period-appropriate getup was, like with most of her barely-pieced-together wardrobe, annihilated, so she's here in the depressing combination of a grey long sleeve tee and jeans with a robe halfheartedly thrown over top, like if Igrene wasn't dressing to be the hottest person at the bazaar. She keeps the medieval depression hoodie down, even though her slightly rubbed-raw eyes might catch more attention than even Sophia's, but who cares-- she's an offworld freak anyways; she's already wearing fucking *denim*.     Still. She has to try her best. And that means engaging Fae with the Big City in a way Petra understands to be the primary allure of spending time in the wide open world around other people: by peoplewatching, and thereby imagining that they have souls and things to do once they leave your field of vision. This is a safer outlet to the same impulse that leads Fae to zip around grabbing at people's sleeves, so once she's reeled back in by Igrene, Petra falls in step beside her to make sure her excitement stays ignited despite the mild reprimand.     "Hey, Fae, look at that-- that person's just sitting on the corner there, painting the city while everyone walks by. Do you think they're just learning to paint, or are they already a master at it? . . . Those people are dressed really nice, do you think they're going somewhere together? Maybe dinner, or the theater like that guy earlier? . . . Oooh, that store's got some really pretty art painted on the window, do you want to go inside?-- Together, Fae. You can't buy anything on your own, you know."     Effortlessly-- or, rather, obviously effortfully in that going outside at all visibly wears her down, but for 'this specific' task, at least-- Petra slots into the role of being a second set of hands for child-wrangling. She's a little Good Cop about it, trying to encourage Fae's energy rather than being overly cautious, but she's having fun too, even though her expressions are much more muted than usual and her voice is hoarse when she has to raise it.     Then, at the fountain. When the momentum of walking through the city dies out, Petra drifts to a distant, silent halt, staring into the ripples of fountain water rather than talking to anyone.
Echolalia	Echolalia is thrilled to spend time with Fae and Ingrene, honestly. She's also feeling a little stiff today and so getting some exercise walking around and about is good. She likes that there's a bunch of trees around too, for sure, it's nice to feel them at the edge of her consciousness. It's comforting. "Heeey...Mia..." She leans in and offers her hand. "What do ''you'' want to wish for. Oh I can use my coin for it too if you'd want, but then you can't tell me...!" She seems to be making assumptions about the sorts of wishes that Dysnomia would want to make. "You seem like you'ree having a good time, Fae. Is the BIG CITY what you expected it'd be?" She grins widely.
Desire Stars	"Wow, Ace," says Neon. "You really make that tunic work."     "Sure," says Ace. The two of them have picked up some local clothes--simple affairs that make them look less blatantly like outsiders, although there's no hiding the language they speak. "But that's no surprise. I could make a trashbag work if I had to."     Neon rolls her eyes, but she is starting to find the smug attitude endearing in its way--evidenced by the little smile. "Hm... but are you sure that's all it is? Maybe... your 'business meeting' went well?"     There was very little business discussed that night--but a token amount did occur, only for the sport of seeing how Dieck handled himself. "Of course it did. I only settle for the best, after all."     The two of them find themselves called to keep Fae company, and neither can resist.     "It's not all it's cracked up to be," Ace consoles Fae on the topic of arena fighting. "The good seats are so expensive that most of the time you can't even see the fighters that well. The food isn't half as good as what Merlinus can whip up. Not to mention," he says, "You have to watch a bunch of other stuff you don't care about just to see the guy you want to root for--and you'll be lucky if it lasts ten minutes. Fights take a lot out of you, you know."
Odette Raskins	If the Arcadians wanted some offworld weirdos to take attention away from them, they could certainly do worse than Odette.  To her credit, she's dressed fairly normally for the region thanks to finally spending more than no money at the local shops in Aquleia: A white tunic with long sleeves, a blue half-cape draper over her usual duffel bag to hide it a little, and long boots to really have that traveling adventurer-medic look going. She even looks relatively more vibrant and chipper than she did the last time they had met, due in no small part to just being away from everything for a good week. Unfortunately, the tone Igrene had used about speaking about sensitive things has given the EMT a completely wrong idea of what to expect. Her eyes are covered with big visor shades that most certainly don't look like they were made anywhere on Elibe, and her mouth and nose are covered with a surgical mask. "Hello, Fae! Hello, Miss Igrene! Hello, Miss Sophia!" She greets the three brightly, clearing her throat after a moment once she remembers that she's supposed to keep her voice down. With her hands in her-wait. Does this tunic have pockets? She can rest her arm on the duffel bag under her cape, at least. "Sorry about that. Ah.. How're you both doing? It feels like forever since we've seen each other..." She rummages around in her bag briefly, then pauses when she sees the snack stand. "Want to try some of those snacks over there? I'm.. Kind of curious how their stuff compares to the snacks back home." She suggests, eyeing the pastries in particular from behind those shades. Thanks to baking being fresh in her mind, she later joins Sophia during her bookstore detour. Aside from poking arund for some magic-adjacent reading herself, Odette's also looking for baking recipe books. Once everyone regroups by the fountain, meanwhile, Odette does her usual rounds with her medical HUD worn underneath the shades while checking up on the Arcadians and especially Roy. She's trying to be subtle about it, but... "How're you feeling? Any parts healing strangely, or feeling..." She pauses, still keeping her voice down even though her voice is already slightly muffled by both the fountain and her mask. "Different?"
Lilian Rook	Despite how much a couple of people might wish otherwise, Lilian is still around the city. She wasn't about to let Dieck's one run-in with a petty cutpurse be the end of her attempt at going to her Happy Place (war-torn slow motion apocalypse) to Heal (force herself to be around people she likes and hope that self-curating comes back naturally).     She's late off her prior business (chasing some random guy all over the city with precognition and unsuccessfully attempting to work out complicated feelings), but Dieck's last match doesn't interest her all that much. It's a funny change of pace, giving the idea of watching bloodsports was alluringly fucked up and exotic up until about a week ago. Now the thought of seeing Dieck topless and bloody is . . . maybe a tiny bit appealing, but mostly Lilian finds it turning her stomach like trying to eat something she's nauseatingly oversaturated on.     Fae is the exact opposite of this! So that's where she's going now! Igrene makes her heart hurt a little at times, but Sophia pleasantly balances it out by being enough of a depressing failgirl that Lilian can feel somewhere in the middle of the three body problem of themed inadequacy. It'd be nice to think that she's run out of Petra's week supply of cigarettes by now, but her mild twitchiness suggests that she's actually just put the things away so that Fae doesn't see her smoking them. Still wearing as much of her cloak as she can, Lilian has at least gotten tired of puttering around in full armour, and simply sourced long leather gloves and thick leggings to cover up most of her Battle Damage.     And thus Lilian trudges her way up to the fountain gathering almost incidentally, like she'd forgotten why she was going in this direction (she had). Reconizing each of the Elibeans in sequence makes her smile a little bit more in three stages, and spotting Petra sets it back by one. It didn't make her bruised, exhausted, vaguely cried-out expression look any less like shit, but it was nice for a moment. She freezes, more awkwardly than she has any right to, near the perimeter of the square, wishing that she'd had the foresight to bring a gift or souvenir first, as an excuse to wiggle her way in, instead of just mechanically putting her feet in front of the other towards a bench.     "Isn't it so different from a little village? Even though it's so much more massive, I bet it felt completely different just a century ago. I've always sort of wondered if you could ever 'get to know' all of a city like this at once, because of that; or if little things would change while you're not looking at them somewhere else, that it'd always feel new."
Rita Ma	Fae is absolutely delighted by the snacks, although her dragon appetite outmatches her human tummy, and Igrene has to intervene to keep her from getting sick. The arena-dissuasion perks her up a little- "Fighting does take a lot," says someone who has been in one (1) (uno) fight ever, maturely understanding.      (When Petra takes her in to a store, she insists that she can buy things on her own, and then accidentally shoplifts a pretty hair-clip. Igrene hauls her back in to pay, but the shopkeeper adoringly waves it off.)      The kids. Those words from Madeleine stab Roy gently. With a gamely pained, accepting smile, he takes the pastries and nods. "Oh, thank you. I've been seeing them often. Cecilia's trying to take Lugh under her wing, I think. She needs someone to teach."      That he's graduated from that, too, fills him with odd feelings.      "Would you like to try?"      Awed by Mia's explanation of wishing, Fae nod-nod-nods fast enough to make her little cheeks jiggle, then immediately reaches into the water with her whole arm to grab a coin from the bottom- "Fae!" "Sorry??"- and then finally realizes she's being offered one 'for free'. Taking it from Dysnomia, she holds the bird-stamped gold coin like it's an artifact. % T"Fae wishes..." she starts, and then hesitates.      "What is it?" Roy prompts gently.      She looks at Flamel, then shakes her head. "Too big..."      "You don't have to be grown-up yet, Fae. You shouldn't be worrying if your wishes are too big."      Her lips wobble, though. And she shrinks in on herself, hood hiding the upper half of her face. The 'magic' coin is clutched like a protective charm.      Anyone who reads minds can hear her think-and-dismiss:      I wish nobody ever left me.      I wish I was human.      I wish everyone was dragons.      She glances at Petra, then at Echolalia, and wavers. "... Fae wishes..."      Toss, splish. "... Fae wishes Petra's eyes to get better!" And then she bounces down from the fountain's edge and scurries over to give Petra an arms-around-waist, sunny-smiling-up hug. Sophia, who surely knows what salt-worn eyes look like, smiles fretfully while standing off to the side. "... if you need new clothes, Petra...?" she offers, hand on a little coin-purse.      "I'm almost all better," Roy insists to Odette, gently-but-firmly. He presses a hand to his chest: nothing glows through the fabric, like the wound once did. "I'm just sorry I couldn't help for so much. Everyone else was amazing. I was just... carried along on the tide. I guess wasting some of Galle's time counts for something."      His attention swivels to Lilian, next, with a little angling of his posture to rope her into the conversational constellation. "I never got used to Ostia," he says. "Not all of it. But you get used to... the paths of your routines. And the rules the places change by. Those can feel like 'home', too."      "That sounds a little suffocating," Igrene says.      "Maybe you wouldn't like it, but... I was happy there."      "Mmm..."
Rita Ma	After a little while, Igrene puts a hand on Fae's shoulder to catch her attention and still her bouncing. "Fae. Remember we found a place outside the city where--" "Oh! The secret spot!!" "That's right. Just don't be loud, and..." "Thank you, Igrene!! Fae's gotten really tired of being small!"      With the promise of a place she can frolic in dragon-form, Igrene starts to leisurely lead the group towards the city's edge.
Flamel Parsons	Fellow telepaths know why Flamel abruptly clutches at his heart and makes a "auhhhh" sound. Nobody else will receive an explanation -- at least from him. He can't help that gentle background anguish, he's fairly sure that Fae's mind is blocked off from him by the Young Minds Protection Act. But he can explain the matter of wishes.     "Small wishes are something the brain can hold. Even the biggest brain can't really hold a world-changing wish *entirely* in all details. Zephiel might... but today's not about him. Today's about Fae! And Fae, even though she's a very amazing dragon, probably wouldn't know how to answer every single question about a lot of big wishes. So you make a wish that you have every answer for."     Counting one on his hand. "Either that makes it easier for you to achieve this on your own, or..." Counting two. "It lets the wishing fountain get to your wish sooner. If you were a fountain, wouldn't you grant the smaller wishes first, before you get to the big ones?"     "...But the main part is that a wish has to fit in your mind. Impossible wishes are good to have, don't get me wrong -- but you should be able to see them, really visualize them. Like I said, trust me: I've met plenty of wishes!"
Madeleine Cadrasteia	"Cecilia's trying to take Lugh under her wing, I think. She needs someone to teach."     Madeleine listens, her face showing a hint of... well, it's hard to tell, with those eyes. But it could be empathy. After a moment's reflection, she responds. "Time takes a lot from us, and that takes a lot of getting used to," she says. "But it gives, too. The past can't be changed, even if our memory and understanding of it can. You will always *have been* her student. You will always have been a friend to those you loved, and a bane to those you hated. And when this is all over, wherever fate takes you, you will always have been our lord and leader. Hold your memories close, and be proud of them."     Internally, she wonders if she really agrees with what she's saying. If *she* changed, would she look fondly upon her time as the Huntress? Is *she* something to be proud of? She's known her Excrucian dream-of-self to be unbreakable, but will that always be so? The confliction probably shows on her face a little. Hopefully Roy can still take her words to heart.     "Oh, looks like we're going out - I'm glad, cities can get a little stuffy," she remarks, pointing in the direction Igrene now leads Fae and the others. "C'mon, let's catch up."
Dysnomia	"Want to try some of those snacks over there? I'm.. Kind of curious how their stuff compares to the snacks back home."     "It's interesting. Humanity has spent thousands of years learning how to extract and refine sugar into something as sweet and appetizing as possible." Dysnomia said, the trivia casually slipping from her mouth. "Elibe is a little behind, technologically, so they'd need to rely on different tricks to make their sweets appetizing. Merlinus would know more, I'm sure."     Dysnomia's hand skirt close to Echo's. Briefly, they touch, and Dysnomia freezes. Considers pulling away. Can't quite manage to. "...I don't have a wish in mind. If you can believe it." She doesn't look at Echolalia. It was difficult to go all the way back to her old holding pattern, after Dysnomia'd broken down and clung to her. "...Go ahead and wish, Lia. I won't look."     Fae's own struggle with what to wish felt like a pair of hands had grabbed hold of her lungs and squeeze. That old, aching, terrible loneliness, with no clean answer...Wishes, abandoned by the side of the road with bone-deep yearning.     "...You're a good kid, Fae." Dysnomia hadn't realized how raw her voice would be, until the words had already slipped out. She reached down to ruffle Fae's hair. "We can play any games you'd like. Right, Echo?"
Desire Stars	... Fae wishes Petra's eyes to get better!     Neon smiles to herself. Ace does the same, sans 'himself' a little flick of his brown eyes towards Petra wordlessly asks 'isn't that cute?' I guess wasting some of Galle's time counts for something.     "He had years of experience on most of us, and still challenged the people that have been fighting as long as him. He got the jump on you and you lived through it. I think it counts for more than 'something,' Roy..." Thank you, Igrene!! Fae's gotten really tired of being small!     Even Ace can't act above a child getting to run around to her heart's content. So he doesn't try, instead turning to Igrene. "How long have you been taking care of her?" asks Ace.
Lilian Rook	The idea of throwing a coin into the fountain is so classic that Lilian wonders how she's never done it; at least while travelling abroad. Making a wish is a little cutesy for her-- and carries too much of a connotation besides-- but it's just perfect for Fae. Easing onto a public bench, taking in a deep breath of outdoors air, and tuning her ears to the quiet babble of water and ordinary life, Lilian finds the one posture that only barely hurts, and allows herself to open up, bit by bit, to the flow of what it feels like to have something to look forward to.     Her tired smile falls off her face, and her eyes wander down into her palms.     §How does anyone handle a thousand years when just one feels so hard? What a ridiculous thing I've promised.§     'I never got used to Ostia...'     Lilian blinks up at Roy as if she'd just woken from falling asleep.     "Goodness. That makes sense, I suppose, but now I'm realizing that I struggle to imagine you being part of something so ordinary as an everyday routine." she says, forcing a little bit of good humour back into her voice. "You and Lilina and Cecilia, together, I can imagine easily. But just . . ." She shuts her eyes twice, blearily, like blinking off groggy dream-fatigue. "Did you have plenty of leeway to spend time 'on the town' like that? Somehow I must have imagined you were more sheltered than that. Or perhaps I should say, I imagined that more of this was new to you? Because you always seem as if you're taking it so much in stride as a sort of known-unknown. That is--"     Lilian exhales a note of frustration at her own tired-fumbling words. "I can easily tell where the others are and aren't comfortable. But you always seem as if you're swallowing a tiny bit of unfamiliarity everywhere you go."     '... Fae wishes Petra's eyes to get better!'     Lilian gives up with a sheepish "That's a good approach, by the way." before turning to say "And that's wonderful, Fae. She's been working very hard; harder than anyone else; so I think it'd be very nice if that came true, to show her our appreciation." She doesn't sound like she doesn't mean it, which makes it more queasy-confusing that she hasn't exactly shown it.     Rummaging around for her own coinpurse, disused in this place for a while, Lilian lingers behind the departing group to flip one more into the fountain herself. In a moment of frivolous yearning, she silently mouths a different wish on her lips.
Khosa	Khosa is quiet on what her own wish is. It wasn't much, anyway. If she is reading Fae's secret wishes (and she could; she's telepathic enough) it doesn't show on her face... which probably means she isn't. Even though she does not like Petra at all, and considers her something between an annoyance and a threat, Khosa can't help but give a very slight smile at the wish. Well, it was heartfelt, at least. "That's kind of you," she says to Fae, as always a little uncertain of how you treat a child of that (apparent) age. She likes kids best at a bit of a remove. Actually dealing with Fae is hard for her. "Tyr's been Tyr for two thousand years or more," Khosa replies to Lilian. "If I saw it a hundred years, or two hundred, or five hundred ago I could find my way around, I'm sure. But it's changing faster now than it ever has before. So if I saw it in a hundred from now, who knows? It probably won't be any bigger, but it's finally able to change again." Khosa pushes off so she's no longer monopolizing the water spray, though she looks like she'd like to. This is wealth, to her, and success; not having to worry about how to survive. The fountain is just one of the most ostentatious displays of that... even if it's hardly ostentatious to anyone else. She doesn't mind going with the group toward the outside of the city so that Fae can stretch out a little bit. "You look better," she adds to Roy. "Anyway, you probably managed more help than me. I got called away at just the worst time." Khosa isn't sure if she should add more - it kind of feels like rubbing it in that Roy has to depend on so many foreigners - and settles on: "It looks like it might be war again soon at home, too. Or if not war, at least more skirmishes. Don't think anyone's going to invade tomorrow, at least." That may explain where she's been, the last few weeks. At least in a general sense.
Odette Raskins	Maybe Odette should've given her snack gift early after all. Alas, it's too late to do that now without feeling like she's just joining in after everyone else already did, but what would be a good time to do it? She'll have to keep her eyes open for a chance later! "Elibe is a little behind, technologically, so they'd need to rely on different tricks to make their sweets appetizing." "That's what's so interesting, you know? It still looks so fluffy and shiny, so they've got to be doing something special with more natural ingredients. If I could find out what they're doing..." Even with her mouth obscured, Dysnomia could practically see Odette's mouth watering behind her mask. "Maybe I could even bring some of those tricks back home the next time I go on leave..." "... Fae wishes Petra's eyes to get better!" "That's so sweet, Fae..." Odette purses her lips and sucks in a quiet squeak from how adorable that stated wish is, giggling after a moment  as she looks between Fae and Petra. It's a much-needed refresher after a stressful night, and absorbing all of that even by proximity is enough to Odette to take out a coin herself. "Then I'll wish for..." The power to help everyone? No, that'd be weird to say out loud. Best to go with something safe. "... All of us to get plenty of sleep every night." Odette finishes while tossing a coin into the fountain. She tries not to look at anyone in particular, not because there's anyone specific she's thinking about, but because she can't think of anyone here that wouldn't. "I'm almost all better," "I was just... carried along on the tide." "That's good... Eh? There's no need to apologize for..." Odette starts, then pauses as something starts to hit her: That's the same kind of feeling she was getting just the other day during Berislav's sermon. She closes her eyes for moment, smiles sympathetically at Roy, then just takes her mask and shades off so he can actually see that instead of her just sort of staring at him for several seconds wordlessly. "... I know how you feel. Kind of, anyway, even if it's not the completely the same. I mean, I haven't landed a single cut on someone yet with this, and I've been following Miss Rook's training."  She says while gesturing at the sword at her waist, laughing lightly a few seconds later. "But... Even us time-wasters can still be invaluable keeping everyone safe, you know? I know for sure I wouldn't have been able to take a hit like that." She adds, nodding quickly in agreement with Ace. "Heck, maybe..." She pauses, and then she raises an eyebrow at Roy. "Have you ever tried learning healing magic?"
Petra Soroka	>Fae shoplifting     Petra has to interrogate her feelings about this at some point, but she won't right now. Many girls have gone shoplifting under Petra's guidance, but there's a certain purity to Elibe that makes its rules worth respecting in of themselves. On the other hand, the simmering vengeful misanthropy that Petra always feels is cranked up to eleven right now, and anything Fae wants, she deserves unconditionally no matter the harm it inflicts on anyone else.     In the end, though, it's just for fun. Petra's smile at the shopkeeper waving it off is more relieved than apologetic, and she fondly ruffles Fae's hair about it before lingering in the store a minute longer and buying a simple wood and mother of pearl cloak clasp. It's like a little treat she's allowing herself to have, like a feral cat getting used to the scent of tentatively eating out of society's hands.     Staring down into the fountain, new ornament ashamedly tucked away into her pocket rather than equipped, Petra's distantly bleary thoughts turn to the fact that this is the first thing she'd consider to be an 'Elite mission' she's gone on since the war. Work in the City feels more like an extension of it than anything else, and the Concord is meant to be a step forwards but ends up feeling dissociatively out of place every time she thinks back on the dinners and interviews, like a hallucination of some other, hypothetical future Petra rather than herself.     This is, still, a hopefully-peaceful day out on the town with a nine year old and her family. Its qualification as a 'mission' is contextual to the war and feebly rooted in Petra's own emotional intentions at best. But it still feels like a 'first', and in that mindset, it feels dizzyingly uncertain and unrooted, like a step into the void. Trying to draw on the behavioral expectations of her in this situation turns up nothing but static sick and emptiness. What should she say to Zephiel next? How can she give Roy a hand with leading the army? Will she be able to help with the advance into Bern? Who would she tell about it after? Who would want to listen? "... Fae wishes Petra's eyes to get better!"     "--Oh!"     Petra is startled out of her thoughts and Fae's glomping impact knocks a surprised noise out of her. She looks down at Fae with wide eyes before back-processing her words, then her chest constricts around her luheart and she wipes away a sniffle before giving Fae a big hug in return. "Awww, Fae. You're *so* sweet."     Squatting down to match Fae's hug, Petra huffs in exertion to lift her up and give her a quick spin-around before setting her down again. "You know, Fae, the reason my eyes changed color," Not talking about the fact that she's been recently crying, but Fae's hug goes a ways to granting that wish in the moment, at least. "Is because of a magic ritual I had to do to save someone close to me. This is the color her eyes are, too." "She's been working very hard; harder than anyone else; so I think it'd be very nice if that came true, to show her our appreciation."     Petra flinches and gasps slightly through parted lips at that, then winces and clamps her lips shut. The muscles around her eyes twitch to hold back a Fae-wish-ruining response of getting unhappy again, so she gives Fae another squeeze before withdrawing to just handholding. Being silent in response and awkwardly avoiding Lilian's eye contact still is more telling than anything she could've said.     "Oh, yeah, Fae. I can play around with you in my big form too, just like we promised."
Echolalia	Echolalia says, "Aww! That's a sweet wish!" She beams. "I thought they were just contacts or something..." She hasn't been paying much attention to the band recently. She scratches lightly at her cheek with a fingernail. "You're really kind, Fae and I'm glad you have such a big heart for so many people, but it's okay to wish for yourself too, okay?" She raises a hand and tries to ruffle Fae's hair, just a little bit, adoringly. If she heard Fae's wishes, she's pretending she didn't! Because she thinks it'd be kind of rude to point them out, no matter what they were! Dysnomia doesn't seem to have a wish and Echolalia considers her for a long moment. "Hm.... well if you don't have one, I've got sooo many, Mia." She grins, but despite saying so--she only has just one. ''I hope that Mia can forgive herself and be forgiven.'' She tosses the coin in. ''Is because of a magic ritual I had to do to save someone close to me. This is the color her eyes are, too.'' Echolalia watches Petra for a moment, but doesn't comment. A magic ritual, huh. She totally believes Petra is a wizard now.
Petra Soroka	"... if you need new clothes, Petra...?"     While walking with Fae, Petra looks down to her shitty little cloak-and-jeans combo a bit sheepishly. She makes a weakly self-conscious smile at Sophia, and it takes her a few mental skill checks to muster up the pieces to the kind of response that she'd actually want to give, rather than the most easily available one.     "I... might, thanks. Sorry. I sort of lost the ones I had before."
Rita Ma	"How long have you been taking care of her?"      "About half my life," a woman who might maybe be forty answers Ace. There's a warm reminiscence in it. "Ever since my father got too old to. My husband was fond of Fae too... but she's a good girl. It isn't hard to take care of her alone. And Sophia's at that age where she can be like an older sister to her."      "Why? Ever thought about children?" It's an odd thing to ask a guy who looks twenty, but she knows by now that Ace acts puckishly middle-aged.      Roy absorbs Khosa's and Neon's praise with a little guilty smile as he walks. Not as if he doubts what they're saying; but as if, abstractly, even if it's true, he doesn't quite deserve it. "Well... thank you. But I should really be thanking all of you for saving my life."      "I still feel as though I haven't been doing much 'leading'. Cecilia is firm that this is the Lycian army, and so she can't command it... but she knows so much more than me, it's usually best to just take her advice." A little pause. His hand flexes, restlessly, as if he should be doing something. "It's a relief. But it also feels like I'm... slacking off?"      "Have you ever tried learning healing magic?"      Roy laughs. Nostalgia overtakes self-consciousness: "Yeah. Me and Lilina were both supposed to learn magic from Cecilia. But I was so hopeless at it, she gave up and taught me swordfighting instead."      Talking about Ostia with Lilian, Roy lifts his head nad looks off at the sky. The buildings are getting smaller now; the roads permit more blades of grass to peek up between the stones. "There was plenty of time to explore the city, but I stayed inside too much. I liked Castle Ostia's garden... and I wrote lots of letters to my mom."      Right. And she'd passed away before he came back home.      "... you always seem as if you're swallowing a tiny bit of unfamiliarity everywhere you go."      He rolls that around in his head, Fae's bouncy presence alongside keeping him more sunny than melancholy. "I don't know. 'The world when you're a child' and 'the world when you're an adult' might as well be different universes. I just grew up. Maybe that's all."      Sophia, who is a 'weakly managing to confess your own desires' understander, gives Petra a failgirl-reciprocal smile. "Thank you..." she murmurs, whisper-soft. "After Fae... we'll go shopping... okay? And..."      With delicate hands, she scoops Petra's Depression Robe off right over her head, unfastens her own violet cloak, and slips that around Petra's shoulders instead. Yellow and purple...      "It looks good," she judges, possibly oblivious to how extremely Enemy Colored that makes her.      The idea of Petra being a really cool hero is something Fae effortlessly sponges up, nodding in suitable awe. "Fae didn't know eyes could change," is the part she kiddishly fixates on. To Echolalia: "Selfish wishes... Fae could ask for brown eyes, like Igrene! Or purple eyes, like Sophia! Then we'd look like family!"      Possibly nobody should explain to her that they'd look wildly different even then.
Rita Ma	The group passes a low stone wall, and then a river, and then farmland, and then winds around a hill and over snaggly rocks, to a little crevice of sparse forest where not even the outskirts-farmers' sheep would prefer to graze; soft ferns and pine-needle leaflitter. Igrene climbs a tall rock to make sure nobody else is nearby, then gives Fae a thumbs-up from its top.      "Fae likes the run-around game! And hide-and-seek!" she says to Mia and Echo, wiggling impatiently while Sophia fishes her dragonstone out of a satchel. It's probably smart for the doom-sensing seer to carry that thing, after all. When Fae gets her hands on it again, there's that soft light expanding to fill out her new silhouette, and--      It's her!!      She wiggles and spins around, accidentally bumping a tree, like an over-giddy dog whose owner has just come home. "aa--! --hauu!!" she whale-sings at Petra, after marginally calming down.      Now it's your turn!
Desire Stars	Ever thought about children?     "Once or twice," Ace says. He must be aware of how he comes off, right? "I bet I'd be pretty good at it," he adds with a smirk.     "But... kids need someone who can give them their full attention. I haven't been able to spare that for a long time... and I don't think I'll be able to, unless a lot of things change. It's good that Fae has people to give her that." It's a relief. But it also feels like I'm... slacking off?     "This is gonna be disappointing to hear, but... that feeling isn't one that can be satisfied. Not unless you can swoop in and defeat Zephiel, disarm every Bernish soldier and tackle the reasons they have so many allies in the first place."     "Just... try not to listen to it. The feeling that tells you that 'going fast, but blind' is better than standing still and seeing."
Petra Soroka	"It looks good,"     Being abruptly dressed by a peer is a novel experience for Petra-- or, at least, it hasn't happened in a *while*-- and she looks up at Sophia with surprise before acquiescing and tugging it onto her shoulders. Slightly embarrassed, taken by surprise by how soothed she feels, and more embarrassed because of that, Petra awkwardly smiles and ducks her head. She fiddles with a chunk of her longer-than-usual hair, contrasting the blonde to the purple over her shoulders.     "Thanks. Sorry you have to take care of me a bit. ... I do like the combo, though; I used to dye purple highlights in my hair. It's a pretty color."     Petra pulls her compact mirror out of her pocket and flips it open, angling it so that Sophia can see her reflection. Her reflection *does* have the purple highlights, mysteriously, and isn't wearing the same clothes, though Qetra does have the purple cloak on. Petra hasn't ever actually seen her own face with the golden eyes, funnily. "Then we'd look like family!"     "Exactly, exactly," Petra nods to Fae, indulgently. "It's like family." "aa--! --hauu!!"     Being out in the clean nature air, in Elibe, with Sophia and Fae, has the effect of a tuberculosis patient sent to a sanitarium on Petra. Meaning, medically irrelevant to actually curing her sickness, but emotionally rejuvenating, at least. She spreads her arms wide when Fae gets Big, like she's gesturing to wrap her whole form in a hug, and smiles more easily as long as she keeps her mental and physical attention this way and not that way.     "Alright, Fae! I'll give you a little head start, and then I'll come and chase you!"     Petra grips the face of the compact mirror in her thrown-wide arm between two fingers, and presses with her thumb to crack it. The eruption of glittering hardlight shards isn't anything new, but when they spiral around Petra and click-clack into the angular shape of the Beauty of Ash, it hasn't escaped unchanged from the 'magical ritual' Petra mentioned before itself. The eye buried within the crack on its head is gold like Petra's, and sprouting across its shoulders and crystalline décolletage are black raven feathers.     In the apocalyptic birth of the Library after the war, the warped Beauty of Ash looked ominous and intimidating. Out here, in the bright sunny field, it's apparent that it's just about the same size as Fae is-- and the feathers are *remarkably* similar in placement.     <Okay! Are you ready?>
Madeleine Cadrasteia	"I still feel as though I haven't been doing much 'leading'. Cecilia is firm that this is the Lycian army, and so she can't command it... but she knows so much more than me, it's usually best to just take her advice."     "Well, the cliche is to point out that knowing who to listen to and when is part of being a good leader. Which is true even if they're well-worn words. Believe me, I've known some folks who acted the part but didn't bend an ear when they should've and it never turned out well." A pause. "Makes me wonder if Zephiel or Iðunn have anyone they really listen to. Murdock, at least at one point? Each other, probably. But they haven't exactly been surrounding themselves with competent advisors where we've been able to see.     "'The world when you're a child' and 'the world when you're an adult' might as well be different universes. I just grew up. Maybe that's all."     "They really might, yeah. But I don't think growing up is something to diminish, like it happened on its own. Moving from a world of innocence to one of-" She finds herself suddenly at a loss for a noun. There really isn't a word for it more pleasant than 'ineffable wrongness'. "Other stuff, is something everyone should do and not everyone does."
Echolalia	Echolalia wouldn't say it's unusual exactly, it's unusual because it's only the eyes, isn't it? But if it's magic, it makes sense. Magic feels like something that goes through the eyes a lot. Like, the magic is all holed up in the eyes. And Petra seems to have been some kind of a magician this whole time. She hasn't paid much attention before, has she secretly been doing magic all along?? ... Maybe it was unsecretly magic. ... Or ... could she just bne summarizing something more complicated as magic because she's talking to a child? ... No, she's definitely a wizard, Echolalia decides. She'll find her secrets. ''Then we'd look like family!'' "Yup1 That sounds about right!" ''Accidentally bumping a tree!'' Echolalia whistles and looks away while the tree's branches reach out--and try to pat Fae on the head! PAT PAT. With the branches! "Looks like that tree likes you o/~" Echo chirps merrily.
Flamel Parsons	Flamel has *definitely* nothing to let go with like the others are, but he does sort of cut loose with his psychic abilities, drifting off the ground in a slow levitation and letting the gleaming, translucent constructs shift around him. Hands, thought-bubbles, all of it. He needs to encourage the atmosphere of relaxation, after all! And in a way, this is relaxing. Being able to see these things outside of combat. He's never seen Petra's Beauty of Ash without some grand danger or great tension, after all, so he he enjoys getting a nice chance to see.     And he talks himself up a bit. "When we start hide-and-seek," He grins a little, amusing himself. "I think I can win. I'm *good* at hiding. I'm a *spy*. We spend a lot of time learning how to hide, even from very good kids." He probably won't actually go all-out with it, and surely will let her find him at some point, but he does plan to give her some fun by taking advantage of invisibility. For now, he just watches things, soaking in the atmosphere.
Lilian Rook	'Yeah. Me and Lilina were both supposed to learn magic from Cecilia. But I was so hopeless at it, she gave up and taught me swordfighting instead.'     "She really is a wonderful teacher." Lilian sighs. "And a wonderful woman." she says, about someone who might actually be slightly younger than her. The name alone affords her maturity and grace in excess of what a relatively hot-blooded general might otherwise have, to her. "I'd ask, but frankly, I think I already know the answers. She never got angry at your lack of progress. Not at you or herself. She tried what she could, what she knew should work, and didn't sweat it after. She always thanked you for doing your best, and found something else for you to excel at without a shred of resentment in her heart. Now she's proud of you for what you've learned, despite it originally being meant to be different. Am I on the mark?"     'There was plenty of time to explore the city, but I stayed inside too much. I liked Castle Ostia's garden... and I wrote lots of letters to my mom.'     "If it's any consolation--" Lilian sounds out what she's about to say in her head, and flinches in chagrin. "Well . . . That sounds about right. We build walls to make things preferable inside to outside. You did strike me as the 'quiet and thoughtful child' type." she says, effortlessly forgetting that Roy technically still is 'a child'; even more by her own world's standards.     'I just grew up. Maybe that's all.'     "Perhaps it's for the best." Lilian says. "Being equally unfamiliar with everything means you don't have biases that show. A garden isn't a culture. As long as you stay as open-minded as you are, you'll be able to keep making friends everywhere you go."     'Selfish wishes... Fae could ask for brown eyes, like Igrene! Or purple eyes, like Sophia! Then we'd look like family!'     Lilian spins off into her own little world of thought. Her smile turns distant. Her eyes wander. She thinks about Katrina's and Allison's red hair, and all the other times she'd thought about it before.     'I do like the combo, though; I used to dye purple highlights in my hair. It's a pretty color.'     §I wonder how I never got around to asking. I'd always meant to.§     'aa--! --hauu!!'     The urge to pick up Fae and twirl her around a second time bubbles furiously to the surface. Lilian tries to be subtle about holding her stomach, as the phantom nausea of wanting combines poorly with the very real pain of recent internal organ trauma. The thought of putting that much strain on her legs right now makes her shiver, but she can't quite drive it out of her head. She watches Fae even after Petra transforms, hanging back, arms folded to herself, going through a hundred permutations of the next thirty seconds in her mind. Then Lilian smiles a very adult little smile, and leans against a nearby tree instead, trying to copy the way she remembers Solace watching her kids horse around.     It's not hers to invade. It'd be best if she just let them have their moment. She's too old for it anyways.
Dysnomia	"Selfish wishes... Fae could ask for brown eyes, like Igrene! Or purple eyes, like Sophia! Then we'd look like family!"     "Maybe one day," Dysnomia said amiably, confident that Fae'd either forget or find a way to make it real. "You're not far off, you know. You seem more like family than most of my brothers do already." Her smile is small, a little pained, genuine.     Oblivious to the cause of the war-ravaged Petra and Lilian, Dysnomia is resigned to watching, curious, from outside. The mention of the gold eyes brought a thoughtful frown to her face. Angela? It must have been.     Well. At least Petra could save someone worth something.     Now it's your turn!     Dysnomia laughed. "Eager aren't we..." She chided, but her eyes just twinkled playfully. She dissolved, her body becoming something ethereal and serpentine, with glowing eyes, black teeth and claws that burned with a now-gentle fire, too light to even ignite the underbrush underneath her. Rather than sinister, she looked more like a smoky winged noodle with some pointy bits.     She laid down on the forest floor, tail curling around her, watched while Fae and Petra played, waiting her turn.     Tomorrow, there would be war. But today, they'd make Fae happy.
Odette Raskins	"Impossible wishes are good to have, don't get me wrong -- but you should be able to see them, really visualize them." Odette continues mulling over Flamel's words for a little while after she's already stated her own practical wish. How would she even accomplish getting that 'power', anyway? What would it even look like? Magic, like she's been trying to learn? Some kind of new form, like she had brought up to Echolalia those few times? Or perhaps... She really needs to come up with something concrete to work with. "But it also feels like I'm... slacking off?" "But I was so hopeless at it, she gave up and taught me swordfighting instead." "R-really? Well.. Can't be good at everything, but the important thing is you gave it a try." Odette tries reassuring Roy while holding in a laugh, unable to suppress it entirely and letting out a light giggle instead. "Sorry... Hehe. Um. My parents tried to teach me how to mine back home, but... Um. Breaking a bunch of expensive equipment kind of made that a non-starter after the first week." Sighing softly as she shares that nostalgic memory of her own, Odette lets her thoughts wander again towards the words of someone far wiser in these things than she would be herself. Once she puts her thoughts together well enough, she nudges her glasses back up onto her face before turning to Roy again. "Say... Do you think Miss Cecilia learned strategy overnight? Or that Mister Dieck was born ripped and... L-like that?"  She asks, clearly having a specific answer in mind and trying not to think too hard about what he's doing in the arena today. "All of us have things we're good at and bad at, and none of us could do all of it alone. Even if some of our friends are way... WAY cooler than we are right now, it's important to... Um." Her delivery is stilted, and she fidgets briefly before putting her hand on Roy's shoulder lightly. "Be kinder to ourselves. You and me both, okay?" "Fae could ask for brown eyes, like Igrene! Or purple eyes, like Sophia! Then we'd look like family!" Odette feels another twitch in her chest, and she bites down on her lip again. It's getting so hard to take all that while suppressing the urge to just scoop Fae up. She holds it in even after the group reaches the isolated area, far beyond the reaches of civilization, but she can't really hold it in when Fae finally gets to transform. Almost immediately, Odette runs right at Fae to just bury her face and arms into her fluffy, feathery surface. "Oh Faaaaae! You're so cute so cute so adorable oh my gooooosh!" She squeals excitedly, patting the transformed dragon as far as her arms can reach on both sides. It's going to take the EMT a bit to calm down, after holding in all those reactions earlier. "Hehe... Aww. Okay. I think I'm..." One more face-rub, and then Odette finally lets go while looking a little more bashful than before about just letting her excitement get to her for that moment. "I-I'm good now. Ah. I've played hide-and-seek plenty of times, but what's the run-around game like?" She asks Fae, glancing over briefly before noticing... Lilian's standing all the way over there. Odette doesn't want to make Fae worry, but she can't help but be a little worried herself, especially after seeing her in that condition just the other day. "Oh. Um. Just need to... I'll leave this over there before we start." She says as an excuse, hurrying over to that tree Lilian's by to set down her duffel bag along with leaving a conspicuous bottle of pain killers and water bottle on top of it. "Are you going to be okay over here, Miss Rook? There's.. Um. The good ones, in case you want them."
Rita Ma	"Sorry you have to take care of me a bit."      "I like it..." says Sophia, just as shyly, hand on Petra's shoulder. "There aren't many people I can take care of... so..." Instinctively, she gives Qetra-in-the-mirror a tiny wave. This is a girl who's used to Weird Magic after all.      Igrene sighs fondly when she leans against a tree. Fae playing is something she's seen hundreds of times. Playing with someone(s) her own size, though...      "Do they?" At Ace. "Nobody can give anything their 'full attention'. Not even a child. I'm the chief of the village. Sophia is Athos's heir. If we're busy, Fae goes to someone else. Sounds like you're convinced you'd be raising them alone."      "But I don't think growing up is something to diminish..."      "It's not," says Roy, leaning just like Igrene and Lilian both do (oblivious to the fact that Lilian, herself, is imitating someone more grown-up). "But I had to." As if that makes it easy.      "You're probably right, about listening being most of leadership. But..." Sheepishly smiling at Neon. "It doesn't feel like it. It just feels like listening. I've got to get used to that, I guess. It's never... going to be perfectly satisfying."      A little sigh escapes him. He looks sympathetically at Lilian. They're both too old for this.      "She never got angry at your lack of progress. Not at you or herself... Am I on the mark?"      "You've had someone like that too, haven't you?" he answers her, with a dreamy farawayness. "You turned out like you did. I don't know what kind of person I'd be without her. I like my parents, but... she taught me to be gentle with myself."      Is he?      "She did, sort of, learn strategy overnight. She was just a year or two older than me, now, when they made her Mage General. But... I get what you're saying. Most of us aren't Cecilias. Thank you, Odette." It's hard to break ingrained patterns of thinking-- but he's getting there, bit by bit.      Fae is wing-flappingly overjoyed to 'see' Mia and Echo again- "--uuaa--ah!!"/"It's you!!"- but Petra's novelty is a different thing. She scampers up like she's going to bump right into the mech, skids to a stop, and then circles with eyes wide and a mouth-open expression. Petra's two-story size means... means...      "----uu--aauu?!"      "You're a baby too?!"      Playing with her is like playing with a cloud that's also a wiggly dog. Even when she bonks or tumbles over someone, she's just too soft and distributed to do any harm- not that she isn't consciously careful, too. She 'grumbles' in soft frustration when Flamel hides, or when someone flies out of her mostly-grounded reach; makes crooning squeaks of joy when she triumphs or gets Odette-petted; and once, while play-tussling with Petra, uuuuaaaaaa-*homph* soft-mouths the mech's 'neck'.      Sneakily, though, Sophia mimes something to her from behind Lilian's back. Perking up, Fae trundles over, loafs in front of Lilian during a lull in the play, and eeever-so-gently bonks Lilian's chest with the top of her head.      "haau--?uu----aa--."      "Hurt? Fae can play gentle games."      Her wings give a little expectant flutter, too.
Petra Soroka	"There aren't many people I can take care of... so..."     There's a small bit of Petra that twinges with awkward distaste at being taken care of by a notable failgirl, but that part has shrank considerably over time. It's dwarfed by its competitor, the part of her that thinks about how grateful Angela was to help her when they met, and having developed her own feelings about support and autonomy, and how bad it feels to be denied it. She *is* taken care of, and her bad mood isn't one that makes her prickly prideful towards girls she likes.     "Then, just... thanks." "You're a baby too?!"     Affronted, the Beauty of Ash crinkles with superficial fractures that ruffle its feathers. It rears up to stand bipedally, holding up its arms over its head, and the effect of going 'I'm actually thiiiiiiiiis tall!!' doesn't do much to make Petra seem *more* mature. But that's part of the game!     <I'm not! I'm an adult!>     Most people here have experienced the Beauty of Ash shattering into uncountable razor fragments and shredding through wyverns or trees or Rita, but when impacting into Fae, the sharp edges don't so much as clip a feather. She has to be careful with her sharp hands and feet, but the gentleness that the mech uses when playing is obviously natural and well-practiced, more than anything else she's used it for. Its head actually just hovers above its shoulders, swiveling and snoutlike, but nomming on the underside of the crystal head lets Fae practically fit half of it in her mouth.     Later, when Fae is approaching Lilian...     Petra's face isn't visible in the color-blur of her shape inside the mech's chest, and the Beauty of Ash's singular eye doesn't emote much on its own. But every movement of the machine is directly derived from her psyche, conducted through the raw physiothymic nervous system of the hardlight construct with purity that would make Dimo proud, so its body language is as readable as anything, albeit not quite 'human'.     Forearms down layed across the grass, head lowered and back raised, the Beauty of Ash's stance is like a dog paused mid-play, uncertainly holding position. If it had a tail, it would be wagging low and careful, tentatively watchful and abdicating a choice in the result while hinging on its result personally.
Lilian Rook	'You've had someone like that too, haven't you?'     Lilian looks over to Roy, smiles her very best 'you get it' knowing smile, and the look in her eyes makes it all worth absolutely nothing. The hollowing of the last two weeks lends itself only to the truth. 'No. But I often wished I did.'     "There's something I said at my own graduation." Lilian says to Roy. "A talented person under a heavy burden can look deceptively like a mediocre one from whom nobody expects much, but it's terribly important to not mistake one for the other."     'haau--?uu----aa--.'     God. It's just about impossible to resist Fae. Or rather, Lilian had hoped not to in the first place. Even if she flinches back a little bit, it's with the self-conscious posture of hoping she doesn't still smell like smoke and blood and bleach. The way she bites her lip and stares into Fae's big dewy eyes is too obviously sold in her heart already. All she spares time for is looking up at the Beauty of Ash, past Fae's head, trying to interpret something from staring at it in a way she might reserve for if she felt uninjured enough to look while no one sees.     ". . . Okay. If you really want to, Fae." Lilian says, making a little noise at the light straight of just pushing herself away from resting her weight against the tree. "I'll be fine though. I promise. So don't worry about me too much, okay? I might get a little tired, but you don't have to stop playing after."