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[In public places, sometimes - often, really, I don't like paparazzi. I don't sidle imperceptibly into people's houses as a general rule. Although it is per person, so if I'm in stealth mode at all, anyone who I don't know to be present can't detect me.]

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[I don't like paparazzi either,] he snorts. [Good thing I'm not famous enough for them yet.]

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[Oh, I'm in a band,] he says. [I s'pose there's no reason for you to know that.]

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[I did not know it, no. Explains all the guitars.]

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[All? There's only - er, four. Okay,] he concedes, [all the guitars.]

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She laughs. [How come you're curious about my lurking habits? Were you worried I was going to suddenly appear after you replaced your ill-fated tea?]

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[I have actually had multiple cups of tea since you left,] he informs her, with a hint of a laugh. [No, it's just - Rayne stormed out in a huff yesterday and I've been feeling watched ever since, I'm trying to narrow it down between 'paranoia about magical empress with lapsed sense of personal boundaries' and 'paranoia about morally depraved ex-friend'.]

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[I have not been spying on you,] she says. [At the risk of doing nothing to improve the situation, I would not have to lurk anywhere nearby to do it if I wanted to.]

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He laughs.

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[Do you think he's going to do something unfortunate? I can jump you through the queue to colonize Saturn or something.]

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[For a broad definition of 'unfortunate', almost certainly. ...What's Saturn like?]

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[Enchanted. Populated with a designer ecosystem, outside the habitats. People tend not to choose to move away from it, so far.]

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[Can it use a rapidly disintegrating punk band?]

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[I don't know about use, but it can accommodate one. It's not designed to require much from its occupants; Saturn is post-scarcity.]

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[Shit. Sign me up,] says Ripper.

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[Are you bringing the band or should I just issue you a passport?]

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[I'll ask the band, but I think I know what they'll say.]

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[Will you also drop your tea if I drop a passport in your lap?]

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A short pause, then, [I put it down.]

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[Of course you did.] And a passport appears in his lap.

Empire of Rings passports look about like normal ones, in blue-white with her ring symbol on the cover, but they're attached to their persons with magic, not by fallible photographic evidence; it doesn't even have his name in it, just pages for stamps. [Welcome to the Empire. If you can't get to a transit office by yourself, the torching pamphlet I gave you has a bit in the back about arranging a pickup. Or you might catch me at a free moment and I could give you a ride.]
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[Is this not a free moment?]

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[In a meeting with the King of Sweden. I'm just good at multitasking.]

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He cracks up.

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[We are talking about whether it makes sense to give me a Nobel Prize given that I had all this magic that's not generally available.]

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