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Finnah's just arrived at work to open the store for the morning shift; she has her apron on but hasn't put her hair up yet. She lets in the customer who always takes half an angle to determine that he wants four buttercreams, again, and then nips into the back to tend to her hair and check the overnight progress of the rock candy.

This isn't the back.

But that -

No, he's too tall to be Mial, if this is a Mial prank it's a stupidly elaborate one.

"Okay, I give up," she says, "what the hell?"
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"How's that meant to work?" asks Aurin.

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"Intuition formed over long years of study?" he suggests.

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"No, I mean, how's the esu thing supposed to turn up the Milesitude," Aurin clarifies.

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"Good question. Damned if I know. Something about - pressure," he says.

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"It does that, all right. He held out without the painkillers longer than me, too," Finnah remarks from where she is studying the art of confectionery.

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"Through sheer stubbornness, no doubt. What was he like?"

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"He... calmed down," says Aurin. "I didn't hang out with Finnah back then but I'm told she was a screaming terror. He just sort of tried very hard to keep busy and when it didn't work he'd go on long crying jags - when he was littler and it wasn't that bad and when he was on the drugs he was much more fluttery and excitable."

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"Yeah. Pressure," nods Mark. "Makes sense."

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"You can get your doctorate in Miles-psychology from some minimally reputable university. Doctor Mark," Ivan tosses off.

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He giggles.

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Linya scans Koridaar again.

"Lalita's blood seems to work perfectly thoroughly on elves. The scanner's estimate of your age is dropping precipitously," she says.
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"I think," says Koridaar, "once we verify the extent of the effect, I might like to take my runecasting study materials and go home. Otherwise I expect to be waiting a long time for Mial to be done swearing at his alts."

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"Yeah, this is looking like it's going to make him forget to eat, sleep, and breathe except for the purpose of swearing," snorts Finnah. "And if I stay too long I'm going to want lunch way before my lunch break. Can the bar give me a new nametag so I don't get caught without?"

Bar provides. Finnah hands over an aaber and gets change and goes out the door.
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"I suppose there is no good way to predict when the rejuvenating blood will be done with me," says Koridaar.

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"I could guess," says Linya, "but since we have no planned responses to any of the possible answers and I don't know if I'd be even close I'm not sure I should bother naming a number."

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"Yes. Well then. Perhaps I'll get started on my reading now."

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Books are supplied. Linya inclines her head and goes back to her own merry barsploitation.

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Koridaar sits with her husband and reads.

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The various Mileses swear at each other.

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"Progress has stopped," observes Linya, when she checks again a while later.
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"In that case, I'll be going now."

Koridaar has reverted to an apparent age of about twenty-five equivalent. When she stands up, she smiles brilliantly.
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"Later, Aunt Koridaar."

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Avar helps carry the books. Off they go.

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