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magical girl ellie gets a minion
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Naomi spends her childhood learning as much, as quickly, as she can. Her parents are ecstatic when her attention turns towards computing -- their field. She gets books, her own hardware from a very young age, excited conversations about so-and-so language, and hours and hours left alone, tinkering. 

She makes her first calculator when she is six and doesn't stop -- except in frustration when she encounters access restrictions.

A conversation from the dinner table. Naomi shows her mother an application, across which angry letters spell: "ACCESS DENIED."

This doesn't make sense to Naomi. If they were trying to prevent access to bad people, then the bad people would want to find out their secrets more. She wants to, too, so, so badly -- but her mother has been consumed by her work again. Naomi, ignored, goes back to her machine.

She finds the source. It's easier than she expected. Better. Thrilling. She picks up an interest in cryptography and computer security. She practices.

When she meets people who share her instincts she feels a breath of fresh air. In one corner of the internet they call themselves "Spiders".Their mission is to expose corporate secrets. There are now too many avenues for a firm to hide money -- the rich being so astronomically rich, and the poor being such a good excuse to hold a charity ball or two. Everyone agrees that the people at the top are corrupt, that income and class mobility is impossible, and that people will do the jobs their parents did until those jobs disappear and they die in the slums. Not everyone agrees on where the money goes. 

"I swear." One of the more influential members' pet topics is their Illuminati theory. "I've looked at some of the financials for this one. Billions of dollars go to departments with black-box budget items that haven't been properly audited in decades. No one knows where this money is going and every 'investigation' turns up clean. There have to be spies in the government or something. I'm even seeing stuff for massive large-scale fake IDs."

The evidence mounts. Others start to come around. Maybe it's not the Illuminati, but there is something tying many of the major corps together. Including the shipping company Naomi's parents work for. Mr. Illuminati Theory thinks that one in particular is running drugs, or sex trafficking, or both. She's never thought to steal their passwords before, or to try to get at their secure computers at work. But to think that even they could be part of something like this ...

The information she finds confirms some of the spiders' theories, but not all of them. And before the actual investigation starts, the one that would prove once and for all that they are involved in massive criminal activity, Naomi finds that she did her job too well -- the backdoor virus spread so thoroughly that the firm collapsed under the scandal and mounting costs of fixing it.

Six months later, another dinner conversation. Naomi's parents tell her they've found a new job. The firms they've picked are infected. She tells them not to take the jobs. They condescend at her until she storms off. Ignored, as usual. 

Naomi can't use the same strategy twice. Not for both of them, it would be so suspicious. She wants to, though. Not least because she knows what she'll find.

For days, she seethes.

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"The video game club. Apparently there's an ... us-specific ... club to join too?"

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"We try to tailor the cover story to the particular girl's strengths and interests."

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"You don't just give out targeted scholarships? Or is this for the time taken up by patrolling; I suppose you want to make it specific enough that no one else would be interested."

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"It's to cover for patrolling and training."

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"Right, right." All else aside, training sounds fun. "I'm just wondering how you generate the cover stories -- I guess you don't have a single Key Club-style volunteer organization that everyone joins, if you try to tailor it to everyone's interests ... or maybe you do and there are different ways to be involved?" Pause. "What's the age distribution around here, anyway?"

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"New contractees are around your age, late middle school to early high school. Most girls like to keep their apparent age around there; those of us in public-facing roles age up a little."

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Naomi blinks. "That is a thing I can do? Neat! Man, what other things can I do -- how magic efficient are they, does it take more to change from a default appearance or is it a transformation effect that's more one-and-done --"

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Are you sure about this? Ellie thinks privately to Makoto.

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I don't think she'll take it badly. Better to get it done while I'm here, in any case.

"It's actually a function of your soul gem," she says aloud, not giving any hint of the nonverbal exchange. "Your self resides in the gem and the body is a vehicle you drive. If you change your self-image, your body will shift to match."

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"Right, sure, but -- wow. Wow. That has so many implications. Is there a way to connect to multiple bodies? A form that always uses less magic no matter what your self-image is? How do you even change self-image, anyway?" 

 More relevantly to her interests: is the information she's downloaded stored in her gem, instead of her epaulettes, and how exactly is her magic interfacing with her computers, and how is it going to produce readable copies of the things she's sensed -- she's fairly sure now that her power works over wireless. Especially since, in general, the magic has been fairly friendly.

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"Maybe if you could find an empty body to link to. No one has ever succeeded or taken a notably non-human form."

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"It's just a trick of concentration. A lot of girls even do it subconsciously to make themselves prettier."

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"So I guess I should start looking at pictures of muscular women and start thinking of myself as someone who is really athletic? Or does that waste magic, would I have to do that the long way --" She doesn't want to bother if she would have to do it the long way but it would be nice. 

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"It's a small drain, but sustainable."

I guess you were right.

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I usually am.

"Be careful of drawing attention by changing too suddenly, though."

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"What happens if I mess up?"

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"We may have to spread some bribe money around, or we might ask you to relocate."

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... nod.

(So they don't have more magical ways of ensuring people don't know -- or they do, and they're not telling her.)

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"I'm sure it won't be a problem, though. It's very rare that it ever becomes one."

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"Right. Thanks for the reassurance." She's not reassured.

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"Anyway. We were talking about cover stories."

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Relief. "Right. What do you think would work?"

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"How are your grades? We could do something academic."

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"Or a gym membership."

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"My grades are good and I've never expressed an interest in sports before ... both, something academic first? What academic thing are you thinking of?"

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