Flicker at Whateley
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"You get a school laptop as part of being a student," Ariel notes. "It's kinda shitty apart from being nukeproof and having a word processor, though. And you're not allowed to use it for gaming or any of that extracurricular shit."

The cafeteria is visually impressive! It's a massive dome apparently made of either reinforced glass or grown crystal; there are several massive lunch lines delineated by signs. The four signs most obvious are one bearing a carrot, one bearing a human form, one bearing a cow, and one bearing a slice of pie.

"You're probably in the humanoid line, unless you're vegetarian or twins have to eat way more. Don't worry, contrary to the signs they don't carry long pork. I will be over in the 'massive haunches of miscellaneous animal' section, because I am a dinosaur, raaar."
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"Until I have been here for longer I'm going to have a persistent trouble with knowing when you're joking," Bella remarks. "I'm not a vegetarian or a dinosaur."

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"Sorry. Humanoid line has Stuff That People Eat. Casseroles, pasta, diverse meats, etc. Cow line has massive quantities of meat, eggs, breadstuff, et cetera, for those who need absolutely insane calorie counts to maintain their powers. Vegetarian line has veg, pie has desserts, you must visit dessert it is fantastic, that one over there is supposed to be a geode, it's for the people who eat minerals, and then there's the little line for people who have to have stuff like live prey or gasoline. Tidy little system."

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"All right. See you post-food-collection, then."

Bella goes down the humanoid line. She comes out with half a turkey club, and a cup each of broccoli chowder and tomato soup, and veggie mac 'n cheese with ground beef in it, and a salad that includes hardboiled egg and bacon and ranch. She will make a separate trip for dessert.
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Ariel is sitting at a table with a girl covered in swirling purple tattoos. She waves Bella over enthusiastically, over an enormous pile of meat and a small side salad. And a coconut cream pie. (And a cup of coffee the size of her head.)

"Aw, humans. People who eat reasonable human quantities of food. I love humans, they're great."
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Her companion clears her throat and points to her own plate, which bears an entirely reasonable human amount of food. (Vegetarian food.)

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"Your food is salted with cobalt, you don't count. This is Sally! She's my roommate. This is Bella! I have been gossiping about her nonstop to you."

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"Flattering gossip?" asks Bella, sitting.

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"Excruciatingly, I assure you. I'm Sally! It's good to meet you."

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"Likewise. What's the cobalt for?"

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"Special dietary requirements. I'm technically a golem. I've got free will, though, thanks entirely to this one."

Upon closer examination, it becomes apparent that Sally's skin is not... skin, per se. It looks more like unusually smooth brown marble. Her hair looks kind of like steel wool, but made of a strange black metal. And her irises, which at first glance just looked grey, are actually carved out of iron.
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"...Okay, is there anything I should know it's rude to say?"

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"I'm very difficult to offend. You're not likely to meet any real golems, either, so you're probably in the clear. But before you ask, I'm not Jewish."

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"That was not actually my first question, I was going to inquire after the free will bit, what are the usual and special-case parameters there?"

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Sally goes quiet for a few minutes to compose a summary. "Well, golems are quite illegal to make nowadays, because there are sentient enslavement laws and all that. Back when they were made, they were sentient but couldn't have free will unless they were freed magically, which was rather dangerous, because they would often go on vengeful rampages et cetera. I look like a golem, because I'm a special breed of odd duck called the Artificer. And the explanation for that is fairly long, and I'm willing to tell it but I'm bad with interruptions, so do you have any questions about the first bit?"

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"That is a sensible strategy to deal with interruptions and I may steal it. I will also want to know how golems are made and under what circumstances they tended to be freed magically and what, if not free will, governed their actions before that. But I'm not picky about what order I learn all this information and the Artificer bit in."

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"I'll probably go on with the Artificer bit and my backstory first, since I have it all composed."

She breathes in. "The Artificer is a magical being that crops up when a child with certain traits is exposed to large quantities of ambient magic. She has an amazing ability to use the powers of alchemy and create magical items much more quickly than any mortal mage. I grew up as a standard-issue little girl, but when I was thirteen years old I abruptly turned into, um, that. And started emitting hideously dangerous magical effects. I was summarily handed over to something approximating the Mutant Gestapo, which has since been disbanded. I'll spare you the gruesome and illegal details, but Ariel rescued me, her mother tried to turn me into her mindslave for my abilities, and she is now extremely dead. And Ariel has her powers. And I have sworn something of an oath of fealty to her. But my will is my own."
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"Oof. What's the new procedure on hideously dangerous magical effects?"

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"A similar entity, but run by mutants and significantly less Gestapish."

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"Okay. Seems important to have something to address hideous danger. Go on."

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"To answer your golem questions, before being given free will golems would usually act under direct command. Follow any relevant orders, if no orders are relevant then do nothing. Didn't respond well to novel stimuli, and their native intellect was only really there so they could follow orders without being annoyingly literalistic. However, that did mean that they were trapped in a nightmarish existence where they had no control over literally anything, were constantly conscious, and did nothing but nonstop repetitive and undignified menial labor. And the intelligences were usually pretty low-budget spirits anyway, so their minds weren't exactly stable to begin with. It's not really surprising that they inevitably went berserk when granted free will, but it is kind of a pity anyway. And if I knew how to make golems, I would not only not tell anyone, I would request Louis' assistance to immediately erase it from my mind."

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"I don't want to know how to make golems so that I can make any, that sounds like a terrible idea, but it seems like it might be a good idea to have a clue what ingredients or whatever it takes to make people who don't think it's a terrible idea easier to find."

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"I'm aware. I'm just very, very emphatic on the subject. Circe knows how to do it; Mrs. Grimes knows, I believe; there are people who know, and watch very closely to make sure nothing like that is being attempted. I do not have any desire to be one of them."

She sighs. "I apologize. I told you I was difficult to offend and immediately got offended. Golems are... something of a hot-button issue for me."
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"Makes sense."

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In the space of this conversation, Ariel has very neatly skeletonized most of a cow. (The neatness is a trick she learned fairly early in her career in which she extends her field over the meat while she rips and tears at it so nothing can get anywhere other than her mouth. Had she not done so, it would have been... gruesome.)

"So, that got super depressing. What were you working on in the forge?"
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