Emily visits Thomassia
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"Thank you," she says.

She pulls out her book, but she doesn't stop smiling.

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The 30 minutes go by, and Emily gets a new mask with mini-goggles that cover her eyes and stop any puffs of air from flowing over them. She can also adjust the fan to make the flow more powerful, to cool her face down even further without worrying about any streams of air going into her eyes.

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Oh. She wasn't expecting the goggles. This is perfect!

She experiments with settings, and rolls her neck and moves around, and everything feels comfortable.

She twirls in place for a moment.

"This is perfect," she tells the mask-maker. "Thank you so much!"

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"And it's not even fully finished, don't forget! You're going to be so happy when this shows up at your door and you can start wearing it all day!" She smiles back at Emily.

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She nods. "It's true," she agrees.

She pulls off the partially completed mask with a happy sigh, and hands it over.

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After another day of waiting, a bright blue fursuit head, with colors reminiscent of a peacock, waits within a black package left outside of Emily's door. It even comes with a pair of plastic packages that fit flawlessly within the snout, letting Emily breathe easily enough that she won't have to worry about needing to take it off, or even cooling her face and stopping her from catching or spreading any potential illnesses if she were to ever get sick.

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She unpacks it reverently, running her fingers along the material.

It's just in time — her rescheduled examinations are tomorrow — but she has to try it out before that.

She slips it over her head, settling it into place, and grabs her backpack from its place by the door. The elevator is fast, but it's speed is no match for her impatience as she heads down to the ground floor.

She's hung around in the library a few times now. But when she steps out of the elevator this time, there's an important difference: nobody can see her.

 

Or, well, they can see her, obviously. But nobody can see her face. Which means she doesn't need to think about how to hold it, or how people are going to interpret where she chooses to look. It means she can open her mouth and wiggle her tongue side-to-side, just to see how it feels, and nobody will look at her weirdly. It means that when she smiles, it's just because she wants to, and not because anyone expects her to. It's wonderful.

 

She has a mask and done enough studying. She wants to take a second stab at adventure. What's going on in the nearest park?

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There are children climbing in trees, running on the paths, swimming in small ponds, diving in small ponds, swordfighting with foam swords, and what looks like a few teenage furries taking pictures in front of a beautiful patch of flowers.

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She was already interested in the swordfighting. But on the other hand, it might be novel to have her photograph taken ...

She makes her way over to the swordfighters, and checks to see whether they seem to have any spare swords, this being a deciding factor in whether it's worth asking to participate.

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There's a few foam swords sitting around on the ground. The swordfighters, a few more boys than girls, take a moment and look over at Emily as she approaches them. "Just take one", one of the boys say.

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Well that's straightforward. She picks up a sword and tests its weight, stepping through the few basic stances her parent has shown her.

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It feels nice in the hand, and seeing the boys instinctively move their own toy swords to block any potential strikes as they keep their eyes on Emily is exciting.

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She grins — and doesn't even have to worry about what they will think about that.

She launches herself into combat with enthusiasm and sword skills that are, on the whole, pretty basic. But she does her best, and takes her lumps with grace.

And afterward, lying panting on the grass, surrounded by people who share at least one of her interests, the sun beating down on them ... she feels good. As though it doesn't really matter that she doesn't know what will happen from here — whether she'll pass her tests, or find a way home — that things might be okay regardless.

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