ghassan and basira meet at last! Also Briar.
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There's a classroom on an upper floor full of molded-plastic furniture: orange chairs at shiny teal desks.There's a whiteboard at the front with "Introduction to Probability!" written all across it, dots done as circles. There are no whiteboard markers.

Basira considers strategies for checking those desks are shiny-as-in-plastic and not mal-slicked twice a week, and decides she'll lean on a book in her lap instead. She checks the chair furthest from the drains and vents and sits in it.

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Ghassan has no special trick to identifying mals. He's as observant as any enclaver learns to be, but not beyond that. Ideally, he'll find people who are uniquely skilled. One of his strengths has always been knowing when something is someone else's job. Right now, he's low on resources. He has Dubai's support, but their survival rates are low; they might not be the enclave with the least upperclassmen inside, but they're close. Besides that, his affinity doesn't really give him spells that give him an edge. It's- going to be a tough couple of days. Once he establishes himself (if he finds the right allies), he can start thinking about studying, and graduating. Even the weakest enclave has a better chance than most independents, right? He hopes so, anyway.

He's in a good enough mood, though; you have to be, to impress people. Confidence, charisma, and a competence. That's what Ghassan needs to project. He's projecting it. He takes a seat behind the student who's found one of the better seats in the room, tossing a bit of poison on it- enough to reveal any mals trying to pose as a chair.

"How are you enjoying your afternoon?"

His voice is accented, though he seems fluent, without any stuttering or pausing to find the right words.

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Why do people keep sitting behind her and—doesn't matter. "Fine."

...sigh. She turns around. "I got drilled a lot on the 'iridescent sheen'  and 'weird ooze' genre of mal-spotting, so I'm not thrilled about spending my last class of the week surrounded by shiny plastic."

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 "I have a poison that paralyzes mals. It won't help you if you're not a fast runner, but it should be enough for a mal that's stolen your seat. Just don't lick it when you're done."

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"Do you have to run out of the classroom in between?"

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"No, not if you can can zap it. Back home, I used it when I needed to save my mana and someone could zap it for me."

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"Where's home?"

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"Dubai, UAE. What about you, where do you call home?"

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Plenty of someones, then. "Oxford, UK." The house with the door to Hill Top Road, before she grew too old to live so close to a gate—"Technically not that far away."

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"I guess not! Do you miss it?"

It's not a sincere question: obviously, the answer is 'yes', and equally obviously, the answer doesn't matter.

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She says—swallows, actually, then manages to drawl "No, not at all."

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"Here's to making it home in one piece," he says, and that's- probably all the conversation she's in the mood for. Ghassan will scrutinize the plastic, find it perfectly ordinary (today is the first day), and get started on his assignment. They do, thankfully, have a textbook. He starts taking notes. Basic probability makes intuitive sense; a brief glimpse at the table of contents promises harder stuff when they get into distributions.

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Why would you say that.

Fortunately there are so many numbers to think about instead!!

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