"What—no. No, absolutely not. You're shitting me. Is it too late to go home? —mine's got an 8 in the middle. I think something is fucking with us."

"Something is definitely fucking with us but I almost feel safer knowing that somewhere in the causal chain that produces our room assignments, some force or being took the time to play a stupid practical joke." He picks Tony's pocket, baps him gently on the nose with his favourite pen, slides sideways to escape his initial grab, hands him the pen again. "Situational awareness."

"Stop that." He takes the pen and puts it back where it belongs, grumpily. "You're—yourself, you don't count. I've got plenty situational awareness compared to literally anyone else on the planet."

"Ah, but we are no longer on the planet."

Grooooooan.

"That's an old joke," a boy comments, approaching. "Hi - Edmund Pevensie, London enclave - you must be an indie but I really thought I knew all the Londoners, am I losing it?"

"You're not losing it. Tony Stark, New York."

"Basil Stark, also New York," he says, in a perfect copy of Tony's voice; and then, back in the unnervingly flawless London accent, "If I didn't do something to distinguish myself, no one could hope to tell us apart."

"Good lord, that's truly frightening. Um. Tony I'd heard of, Basil I... hadn't... which is possibly even more confusing. - you're going to be getting that all day, sorry for contributing."

"We will alas never have the chance to ask Mother why she chose to conceal me from both her husband and her enclave, but it is what it is. Personally my money's on 'mental breakdown at the thought of her firstborn and her other firstborn having to compete with each other for scarce resources' followed by 'shining realization that she never has to have an awkward conversation with Howard about the world's deadliest boarding school if she whips out a replacement goldfish the moment she sends Tony away', but she did not confide the answer in me before she passed away."

"Good Christ. Um. Sorry for your loss, I wasn't going to bring it up because generally that's agonizing but once it's on the table I do kind of have to. I hope you're... doing... better than could be expected?"

"Life sucks and then you die!" says Tony, cheerfully flippant. "At least we've got bigger problems now!"

"And personally I find it sort of amusing to be the invisible ghost child who doesn't exist. I can peek out from around corners and say 'boo' at choice moments."

"Do not do that, you will die," says Tony, in the well-worn cadence of one who has had to repeat this phrase so very, very many times.

"Yes, I'd also rather you didn't. I'm hoping to help make people's lives suck less and make them die less, but it's hard going. What're your tracks? I'm invocations, creative."

"Artificing," Tony says immediately.

"Leaning alchemy although with a wistful glance in the direction of languages. It would be a shame to waste my talent for accents anywhere other than the languages track, but alchemy is rarer, ergo more useful, and I've always loved to cook."

"Huh. You could always take languages and hook up with an independent alchemist, you know, there's no reason to force yourself and waste comparative advantage just for positional. I'll bet you could find half a dozen indie kids with alchemy affinities and watch them until you know who's going to be good before they get a real reputation."

"I have multiple talents! I expect to like alchemy better than languages even though Tony thinks I'm a fool for considering alchemy when my affinity is books. I'd do creative writing in a heartbeat if I expected I could hack it but I don't believe I can, I've always been a better mimic than an artist."

"Ah, of course, that's a different question entirely. Hmm, an affinity for books - that really is almost a shame, it points so strongly towards artifice but you're joined at the hip to one. You could probably make some really fantastic inks, I suppose, there's plenty who want those."

"I will make such fantastic inks. Paper, too, potentially; I feel that's a bit of a grey area. And then I can collaborate with Tony on bookbinding, although it's not really his forte, he's most properly an engineer."

"Engineering! Good amount of utility there - perhaps he can make you a printing press."

"Wouldn't that be a marvel."

"And the prettiest shiniest happiest spellbook chests."

"Ooh, shiny happy chests are the best kind. Don't suppose I could commission one? I'm going to be keeping a lot of brainstorming notebooks, you know, and you really have to keep an eye on those."

"That sounds like a fantastic idea."

"Excellent. And of course I've got trade goods, if you're hungry for crystals or reagents or anything."

"Yeah, we can work that out. How soon do you want your shiny happy chest? I don't wanna commit to anything until I've seen the shop facilities around here, but I'd be happy to make it my first side project if the pay's good."

"Not urgently enough to make it your first, I'm not going to have a squirming mass of books until well into the semester, it's just best to be prepared, you know?"

"Cool, cool."

"...speaking of prepared. You've heard the big news, right? Or - no, you just got here, didn't you."

"Big news?"

"Chicago. Something happened, and their freshmen never showed up, but their maintenance boy did and said he couldn't get into the enclave. And - there's a bunch of new blood around, from the environs."

"...oh, yikes."

"Seconded."

"Very much so. I can't decide if it's worse that we lost Chicago or that we got the new blood - I know it sounds callous, but they're not going to be one in four. Their odds can't be much better than they were outside."

"Depends who they can get looking out for them. On the whole, though, yeah, they're fucked."

"...I'm hoping I can look out for some of them - at least a bit. But. I have other responsibilities."

"Yes, I feel similarly."

"...that being said, there's a girl who's been buying their hair off them at surprisingly reasonable rates, and one of them attached herself to a New Yorker, and - I don't know. Maybe we've got an unusually helpful class."

"Wouldn't that be lovely."

"Here's hoping."

"Yeah. Here's hoping."