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"Good. You have my permission to keep banging my brother. He fucking needed it anyway."

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Adarin sputters and looks incredibly embarrassed.

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"Your irrelevant permission is noted."

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Zeviana's pleased by this answer. She honestly does like her brother's new girlfriend. Backbone is a thing she likes to see.

"Right then. Will me ditching right now cause problems with one of my brother's many plans, or can I just fuck off to unicorn land and see if I can find a place to live?"

She is feeling charitable, so she adds to Isabella, "Not living with you or him, by the way, fuck no, I do not want to know what you two get up to, glad as I am he finally got laid - to someone that's not after him to have his magical spawn. But he wouldn't be so over the moon over you if you were trying that, so I thought that was obvious."
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"I did not invite you to live in my house, I'll point out. I'm actually not sure how easy it'd be for you to find someplace to go with no legal existence in the country, but if you like uninhabited wilderness there's probably somewhere to stash you and my artifact of objective truth can help you find it if you ask me nicely."

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She laughs.

"Yup, I was just preventing that from ever being a thing. Adarin's dating you, I figure you must save at least three kittens from trees a day. Uninhabited wilderness is pretty great, though I might get lonely and go investigating things. So, guess I'm asking nicely."
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Adarin's recovered a little from embarrassment. He deadpans, "'Please' is usually a good word in this sort of situation, you realize..."

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"Pretty sure there's no way in hell I can say that with a straight face. Congrats, you said it for me, thanks."

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"You have an advantage over Adarin in that you might be able to pretend to be a witch - if you wind up with a flying bird daemon, or separate, or both - and witches more or less get to ignore national borders."

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"Aha. That might be fun. Can he not pretend to be a witch because he's a terrible liar, or something else?"

She eyes Isabella. Or, more specifically, her clothing.

"I'd have to wear that kind of thing, wouldn't I?"
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"Witches are all women. We have to marry mortals to make more witches. And yes, we wear this kind of thing."

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"Eh, we'll see what I get. Still holding out hope for the unicorn."

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Adarin snickers. "Truly, a sight I want to see. My sister, riding a unicorn into battle. You would have to be in pink to really get the look down."

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"Large animals come out pygmy. It would be very unlikely to have a riding-size unicorn."

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"Aw. That's unfortunate."

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"I could see you with a bird though - not a little passerine songbird, though. That or a cat of some kind. Maaaybe a mustelid."

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"If I had a little wussy songbird I would want a refund. Cat or mustelid would be fine, I guess. Never really thought about this kind of thing before. We'll see."

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"My Pathalan wanted to be a dragon or a firefly, but we had to settle as a flying bird because we're a witch."

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"A dragon would be kick-ass. But it wouldn't be proper size, would it. It would be tiny."

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"Yeah, he used to turn into cute little dragons, yea big," says Isabella, holding her hands a few feet apart. "...Children's daemons can change shape, I don't think I mentioned, usual settling age is thirteen or fourteen, sometimes as young as ten or late as seventeen."

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"Damn. Oh well," she shrugs. "I'm not gonna worry about it, I'll get what I get and go from there."

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Isabella nods. "And then you will not be a weird zombie creature anymore."

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At a look from his sister, Adarin explains. "If you don't have a daemon in that plane, you're not considered a person. Thus, you are a weird zombie creature."

He enjoyed saying that way more than he should have.
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"Uh huh. Right, whatever. Guess it gives me a new avenue to insult the fuckwads that are in charge here, if they're not people. So, bonus."

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"I mean, you are clearly managing to be people despite not having, you know, souls. Somehow. But it's still kind of disturbing."

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