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Isabella skips down the list of cities by population to put a portal setup in Seattle. Mostly for her and her mother's and potentially Zeviana's convenience. It's the biggest city within reasonable commute distance of the clan lands.

It is here that he and Isabella are hanging out, unprotected by any wards, when someone back in New Kystle thinks to check.

"Darling!" exclaims Yerena Liandril. "I've found Adarin! That liar Antelier said he was nowhere to be found but I just double-checked, and he's with that extraplanar hussy in her plane. Holding her hand. Those odd birds they have are practically on top of each other. How is your mana supply, darling?"
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Her husband Gervail pokes his head from his study. "Excellent, I was saving for expanding the house. If you found Adarin, though, I think the dining room can just be cramped for a little while longer. I'll go get the kids, I know for a fact Elasali hasn't spelled anything in a week - she can pitch in, for sure."

He goes to go get the kids.
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Yerena goes and fetches a spellbook and hunts down the page describing the planar transfer.

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The kids are retrieved, grilled on their mana situation (good all around), and then set on tasks to help with once Yerena's found the correct page. Once they do a tally of all mana present, they are happily surprised to find that in total they have enough for both Gervail and Yerena to go. A nurse is fetched, told to keep everyone behaving while they're gone, and then it's back to spell preparation.

It takes a bit of coordination and Gervail has to raise his voice to get one of their kids to pay attention, but they manage. Within half an hour, the couple arrives in the parking garage, looking around for Adarin and Isabella.

Of course, they weren't aware of the effects of traveling to this plane. Once they arrive, a small penguin appears near Gervail.
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Yerena gets a cat, dove-gray with white socks and more white at the throat.

"What," says the cat.
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"What," agrees the penguin.

Gervail looks at his new daemon with confusion, sidetracked from his mission of finding Adarin.
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"Fuck," says Adarin in English, when he spots and recognizes them.

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"...Do you know these people?" inquires Isabella, also in the same language. "Time to string my bow or prepare to verse them on fire or anything?"

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"Possibly one of those, yes. They're from New Kystle."

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"That much, I suspected."

She does reach for where her bow is tied to her cloud pine and starts untying it.
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Gervail glances up at the voices, and addresses them.

"Hello, Adarin - and Isabella, I think? Sorry we couldn't arrange this in advance so we weren't so startling -" (He glances at his penguin) "- or startled, but we only just learned where you were."
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"A pity," says Adarin, looking incredibly uncomfortable.

A pity that they found him at all, not that it took them so long to find him.
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"I'm prrretty sure if we duck through the portal and they chase us my security aren't equipped to handle mages," mutters Isabella. "But if you want to try scramming you could maybe magic their daemons to the floor and let them be confused that they can't just walk away from them for a while, we could go through and get on warded property and bust the portal? I haven't announced this one, we can just redo it later." She has her bow off her pine and strung now, and one hand on an arrow.

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"It's certainly an option. I'm not sure how much I like running, however. I want none of them to ever come after me, not - hide in a warded location for the next century until they're all dead or have given up," he says quietly. "But if this goes badly we can do that."

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"Ahem," says Gervail, annoyed. "There's no call for that." He motions to Isabella's bow. "We mean no harm, we don't know what that girl did to spook you, but we'd like to try convincing you to come back."

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"Yes," says Yerena, "we're not uncivilized, not like that badly-bred creature who did - whatever it was."

Her cat licks his forepaw, still confused about existing but not enough to distract him from the desire to be tidy.

Isabella doesn't put down her bow. She looks with unimpressed, chin-raised arrogance at the intruders.
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Adarin has a reply to that, but he refrains from using it. It would not help, satisfying though it would be to say it. Instead he takes a deep breath, forces on a poker face, and says, "I am not accusing you of being uncivil, but all the same, I would prefer not to go back. Thank you for the concern, but my talents seem better suited here."

It is in his very best frigidly polite tone. He's had a while to practice it, it's pretty good.
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"Adarin, be reasonable. What happened to your - your civic responsibility?" asks Yerena.

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"It is safely intact, just focused in a different direction. Away from New Kystle."

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"And towards - what? This - this woman?" accuses Gervail, giving Isabella a contemptuous look.

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"This unknown quantity," chimes in Yerena. "You've seemed very resistant to - to wooing of all kinds in the past and the fact that - this is what succeeds is very odd, Adarin, suspicious."

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"Can I possibly improve anything by speaking in self-defense in Saratese?" wonders Isabella under her breath.

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"Doubtful," he replies softly to Isabella in English, giving Yerena a cold look. "But feel free to defend yourself, I continue to dislike these people."

"Suspicious? In what way? Perhaps I have exotic tastes."
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Yerena casts a doubtful look in Isabella's direction. "You've been a target of so many discourteous attempts at - at collecting you, it's natural to wonder when you appear to have fallen for one for the very first time and from such foreign quarters, don't you think? We're concerned."

"You think I slipped him something or cast something on him and it worked where all your... relatives... failed because I'm working with different stuff," says Isabella bluntly in their language. "It's actually not a ridiculous thing to wonder from your perspective of not being close enough to the situation to have gotten any details since we are not friends... but the answer is no."
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"It's not like magical or - or herbal methods are all you have available," points out Gervail.

His penguin makes an agreeing chirp, preening her feathers. She's getting used to existing, though it's still strange.
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"And what," growls Adarin, "other methods are you accusing her of? She's innocent of them all, I assure you. Because she hasn't done anything 'discourteous' to win me over."

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"Well, there's discourteous and then there's... inelegant," says Yerena, words dragged from her like she regrets very much having to allow them voice. (She doesn't.) "And Adarin, you must admit - the rapidity, the - the -"

"Outfit," sniffs the cat.

"Yes, that," she says, blinking in approving puzzlement at her new daemon. "Are suggestive."

"I am," mutters Isabella, "tempted to throw my outfit at her head."
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"Please refrain," Adarin mutters back. "It would give her more ammunition."

"Inelegant. I see. A different style of dress does not mean she will fling herself at me like a back-alley whore. Perhaps," he says, angry and deciding to go on the offensive, "you are merely culture-shocked by the both of us being near the same age? I assume if she were twelve this entire situation would be much more amenable to you."
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"Pish tosh," says Yerena. "We mentioned Elasali to you early to give you time to get used to the idea. There would be no reason to expect it to be more than an idea, maybe a prolonged engagement, until there could have been children. Are you expecting us to believe that she instigated nothing whatever? That you suddenly adopted the inclination to press suit against all the trends of your history with no intervention of drug, magic, or seduction? It isn't as though there were no mages whatsoever in your age bracket if that was the problem; we'd have been delighted to have you for a son-in-law but there are plenty of cousins about if it's completely intractable."

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"Ah, yes. It must seem entirely foreign that I just didn't like any of them. If you want me to start giving reasons to names I shall, but suffice to say that none of them were my type."

"And Isabella was careful with my Adarin," pipes up Vern. "She didn't just care about getting something she wanted from him, she liked him."

"She could be an extremely capable actress," points out Gervail. "And it's all an act to get what she wants out of you."

Adarin pauses, then he laughs. "If you knew anything about how we met, you would understand how utterly absurd that is. Not to mention knowing her. But that's the entire problem, isn't it, you don't know her and you're trying to pass judgement from afar because I made a choice that doesn't benefit you."
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"You made an uncharacteristic - 'choice' - under the most peculiar of circumstances, to the point where it might easily have been no such thing," says Yerena. "Something odd has to be going on. Your own people aren't so void of personal charms, Adarin."

"Aren't they?" mutters Path, in English.
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"Thank you for your concern, but I would like to ask you a question, Mrs. Liandril. Where were you in this crusade of protecting my personal choice when I was getting drugs in my food and drink regularly? When Lenora would drape herself over me because she liked seeing me try not to squirm? Did you hunt someone down then? Maybe get them to stop? Or is the idea that I would find 'my own people' so utterly devoid of anything I can admire that I gave up trying and decide to look elsewhere utterly foreign?"

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"If someone had gotten anywhere with any of that of course we would have been concerned, just as we are now," asserts Yerena.

"And I - I mean - Yerena," says the cat, stumbling over the question of his identity with his memories, "did make a remark to Lenora, once, but she ignored - it."

Yerena picks up her cat and pets him.
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"Mhm. Except they did get somewhere. That is what caused me to leave, not Isabella."

Vern is picked up. She buries her head into Adarin's chest and he pets her. His face is an emotionless mask that Isabella would recognize quite well.

"You are new to your daemons, so let me give you advice. Do not let anyone touch them. It will be worse than anything else in the world. It will be like the person is everywhere, too close, in your soul, in your head, and there's no escape no matter how much you want to get away. You try and distract yourself from it, but you can't. You try to think, but you can't, you try to breathe but all you can feel is that they're there, that's it, that's all you have. Every second feels like an eternity of desperate attempts to do something to get it to stop, but every - single - moment you are reminded that there is nothing you can do. There is no escape, there is no getting away, there is no stopping it, it's agony of the very worst kind and it just goes on and on."

Pensive kagu pet.

"For reference, it was the most wretched experience of my life. That includes the invasion, mana deprivation, and the loss of all members of my immediate family but my sister. So don't you dare sit there and play your petty little games of bloodlines and politics, trying to manipulate me into thinking you are on my side, not after that. I know better. I don't give a damn about your false concerns and your worries for the fate of magic everywhere, I will not go back. You can try to blame it on Isabella, but if I'm perfectly honest she's barely got anything to do with why I left. She is a reason to be here, not a reason to not be there."
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...Yerena looks dubiously at the cat in her arms.

"But that wasn't us, that was Enathira," says the cat. "She's only one person."

"It was," says Isabella, "but she wasn't the only person to try it that day. I'd recommend you be very, very careful with your cat and your penguin, when you go home."
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Gervail looks at his penguin with confusion.

"Even so. It was one person. You are giving up on an your people because of what one person did. Think of all that you can do, all that your children can do."

Adarin closes his eyes and sighs.
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"Is this Isabella liable to give you children at all? If she does, won't they have such curtailed potential compared to what you'd get from a mage mother? Don't you want more for them?" presses Yerena.

"Hang all the goddesses from their favored stars, is this what you had to tolerate seven days a week back there?" mutters Isabella in English.
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"You see why I hate them," says Adarin quietly in English.

"I do not think that is any of your concern," he sighs in Saratese.

"It is, it's everyone's concern - you're the only member of your bloodline that's cooperative, your sister doesn't care at all, magic will be lost for centuries and if a fourth half-blood shows up there will be no one powerful enough to even try to stop them, it'll be another coming of the first half-blood," argues Gervail. "You have a responsibility."
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"Is another half-blood likely?" Isabella wonders. "...And have you looked up the word 'cooperative' in a dictionary lately?"

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"It could be, we don't know," says the penguin. "But we never know until we have one and the only reason Aliya's damage was so small was because we were paranoid and checked for one and found her when she was little."

"She destroyed a city," says Vern, pained.

"The first half-blood destroyed nations, we got off lucky."

Gervail nods along to his penguin.

"In comparison to Zeviana, he is incredibly cooperative. She's -" Gervail looks at Adarin, and switches the word he was going to use. "- unwilling to even be with a man, at least Adarin has proven to like women, even if I don't approve of his preferences of them." He motions to Isabella.

"That only makes me like her more," says Adarin dryly. "Because I am feeling contrary."
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"Of all the reasons to like me more, I think I like 'you're having fun with antagonizing these jerks' the least," comments Isabella. (English.) "Does it help," she goes on in Saratese, "that I also disapprove of the destruction of cities and nations and the like?"

"Well, it might, if you were going to use your obvious hold on Adarin - wherever it may have come from - to convince him to be reasonable," sniffs Yerena.
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Adarin laughs, a little, at Isabella's comment. "My least favorite as well, but I do like antagonizing them," he replies in English.

"I am being entirely reasonable. I do not want to go back to a place with people that hurt me for most of my life and I do not want to have sex with people I don't like."
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"You would like some eligible mage girl if you only ever gave them a chance," opines Yerena.

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"No, I really wouldn't. There are not that many eligible mage girls. And many of them have this annoying habit of utterly ignoring everything I say and trying to weasel what they want from me," he says dryly.

"So it's a better idea to go to another strange plane with strange... animal things and going with another girl you barely know that's probably manipulating you and possibly damning all of our magic to dwindle until we have the first half-blood, part two?"

Adarin looks at him. "You do not want me to answer that," he replies delicately.
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"Adarin, be serious," says the cat.

"Yes, what are you planning to do?" exclaims Yerena. "Stay here forever in this... strange unpleasant house?"

"Goddesses all she thinks this is a house," giggles Isabella.
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"I do not believe," he says, smiling at Isabella's comment, "that you have any right to ask me what I'm planning to do. Because if I told you, you could muck up my and Isabella's plans. I like them, they're lovely plans."

"Do you think this is a game, young man?" demands Gervail.

"People could get hurt," says the penguin. "This is serious."

"Of course it is. But so is my ability to make choices, and you are continually making a mockery of that, I thought I should return the favor."
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"You are making bad choices, and have been ignoring all of the best-intentioned advice, and the fact that you are capable of abandoning your every responsibility does not mean that we ought to stand idly by and tolerate this - squandering of potential safety and value," entreats Yerena. "And my suspicions about what this woman here may have done to you to prompt this - this personal upheaval of yours most certainly remain."

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"Okay," says Adarin. "I take all of that into consideration. If you would like me to offer my counter-arguments to your points, I can, but I can already see that they won't get anywhere. Thank you for your advice and your concern. It was very kind of you to come out all the way here. When you return home, please let everyone know that it won't be necessary again."

Gervail snorts. "Fine, what are your counter-arguments?"

"One exercise in futility it is then," he replies dryly. "You realize, that if I do everything you want me to do, if I go back, find a random mage girl, impregnate her, raise a huge family of lots of little mages with lots and lots of power - things stay exactly the same. The millennia long game just keeps going on and on. Another bloodline will get started once mine starts dwindling, probably by killing lots of innocent people, and in the mean time - everyone that's not at the top of the struggle will get stepped on, abused, and mistreated. Nothing will change. Maybe that sounds good to you, maybe you like that you're a refugee from a horrific near-extinction of an entire world because of a lust for power, but I don't think so. I think scrabbling for more power is futile if you don't use it with care.

"So I'm cheating. Alternative options, rather than the same, tired old ones used over and over again. Because this? The society? Isn't working. I don't think it ever has."
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"Cheating?" asks Yerena.

"At what?" asks her cat, incredulous.

"More to the point, how? What do you imagine you're doing that's so much better than the tested solution?"
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Adarin considers. "I am not sure if it's in my best interests to tell you, honestly. If you react badly then you can use the explanation as evidence against me to round up mages to try and stop me. You could maybe help, but honestly your motivations are utterly different to mine and I'm no longer desperate for help. Rest assured, you'll find out eventually."

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"Adarin, all this secrecy and sudden erratic behavior and making grandiose vague statements about the future has me very concerned that it might not only be half-bloods that have... issues," says Yerena nervously. "And - our motivations differ? Are you not interested in preventing more mass slaughter?"

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"I'm not insane, at least I don't think so, but if I am then it's possibly the second best thing to happen to me. The 'sudden' erratic behavior is actually not very sudden, I've just stopped caring about playing politics with you. Not to worry, I am entirely interested in preventing mass slaughter. It's one of my major goals, actually. But I've got some others that I'm pretty sure you don't have."

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"Like what?" the cat wants to know.

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"Generally altruistic things. I'm not interested in just helping mages."

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"If you're going to prevent mass slaughter there need to be mages," says Yerena. "Who else would do it?"

"Witches," coughs Path in English.
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"Subtle," says Vern, amused.

"Who indeed," says Adarin, smiling a little and being utterly unhelpful.
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"Why can't you understand that we are genuinely concerned and for good reason?" exclaims Yerena.

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Adarin sighs. "Because I am so paranoid due to my childhood at your family's hands that I can only bring myself to trust two living people, one of which is my sister, the other is standing right next to me. I am not used to people being genuinely concerned, I'm used to people trying to use me because they want magic grandchildren. Case in point." He motions to them both. "Your first train of thought when you got here? My girlfriend is a number of nasty things and that I must be out of my mind, along with ignoring all of my arguments for why I do not want to go back. Yes, you have legitimate concerns, and I would address them, but you have done nothing to make me think that you are not trying to do exactly what you accused Isabella of. Manipulation, not the seduction."

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"Your girlfriend," sniffs the cat.

"What makes you so sure you can trust her?" demands Yerena.
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He starts ticking off his fingers. "The very first thing she did when I arrived and offered a favor in exchange for transportation? She asked me to do something to help people. She turned down the possibility of getting absurdly rich off of portals, or beauty, or any of the other number of things mages can do to ask for that. She has goals that are both good and make sense and she is very obviously sticking to them and putting a large personal investment in following them. Half of the plans I have are hers and I guarantee she helped with the rest. At every possible venture she's shown altruism and thoughtfulness, asks people about their preferences and then follows them.

"She's organized, and she's not - doing things because I like them. She plans new things herself, plots out new potential angles, and goes for goals she wants while stepping on as little toes as she can. When I offered her various problems that New Kystle has, she started proposing solutions, not 'Let's run away together where those problems will never bother you again.' In fact - how she handled our whole relationship in general was absolutely wonderful, she did not rush me. I took ages to kiss her and she didn't blame me once, didn't get snippy or demanding, or anything. When I was basically broken she never lost patience, or threw me aside, or tried to steer me towards a goal she wanted - she waited for me to get better and did everything she could to help.

"Before you get all insinuating, no it's not because she's pretty, or because she batted her eyelashes at me or some other nonsense. It is pretty blatantly obvious how badly those tactics worked on me in New Kystle. She's reasonable, she's systematic, and she's brilliant. I took a chance and trusted her, and she has yet to betray that trust."

He fixed the mage couple with a look. "So it's actually kind of annoying that you keep insinuating that she's something she is very obviously not."
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Isabella squirms happily while he rhapsodizes.

Yerena is less impressed. "She never steered you towards her goals, you just happen to be implementing every plan she proposes all by yourself. You have to see why that sounds strange!"
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"... Not really? It's not a, 'I will do this plan because Isabella said so,' it's - 'This is a good plan that will do good things and I want the results, so I will help with it.' I don't really have outside peers to judge, but - my sister has pronounced us 'cute.' If you have ever spoken to her for more than five seconds you would understand how... Protective she can get. If there's manipulation going on I am so far out of my league that it's not even funny."

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"We never said it was funny," says the cat darkly.

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"Okay. Fair enough. I'm not being manipulated, but I don't really know of a way to prove that one, so I guess I'll just keep doing what I'm doing and you can comment on the results after."

"You're being annoyingly cryptic and unhelpful," says Gervail. "If you would come clean and tell us your plan we might be inclined to help."

Adarin sighs. In English, he mutters, "Such an exercise in futility..."
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"You don't think they'd actually be helpful, do you?" asks Isabella, also in English.

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"They might be. But I'm not entirely sure it's worth the risk. If they don't know what we're doing, they can't do as much to hinder it. But if they learn about the colonization and freak out and gather up their cousins and such - then we have a problem on our hands."

"It's rude to speak in another language in front of people who don't understand it," says Gervail's penguin.
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"It's rude to teleport into a private conversation," Path tells the penguin.

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"He didn't exactly give us any other options to contact him, for a little while there I - er, Gervail - thought he was dead."

Adarin continues in English, "Furthermore, I'm not sure what they could do aside from speeding up the process. It's a useful thing to have, and if they weren't from New Kystle I would explain it to them in a heartbeat, but they are."
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"Your presence," says Path, "means that if we want to go on having a private conversation as we were a few minutes ago all we can do is speak English."

"So they're not that useful even if they wholeheartedly want to help," says Isabella in Saratese, glancing at the visitors with a look that says look how polite I am, aren't you pleased?, "and unlikely to do anything more than get in the way anyway."

"That's what it sounds like," agrees Path.

"And so the only likely advantage of being more talkative is that they start being annoying in a different way. Am I missing anything?"
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"Not particularly," says Adarin in Saratese. "Speeding up the process would be nice, but not worth the risk, I think. I don't know about you, but I can be patient."

"Patient about what?" demands Gervail.
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"I'm not particularly patient myself," says Isabella, "but I'm not low on things to fill my time with, so I don't see a particular need to accelerate the timetable or add difficult personnel."

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"Fair enough. If we need to really speed things up we can always bother my sister, too."

"Wh- we weren't able to find her, either," exclaims Gervail.

His penguin pipes up, "Though we wouldn't have tried talking to her anyway."
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"I can imagine why you might skip it. Adarin's much nicer," comments Isabella.

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Adarin laughs. "She can be very nice, I swear."

"I haven't seen it," says the older mage, unconvinced.
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"My mom seems to like her, at least."

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"I don't know how to feel about that, so I'm just going to default to pleased," deadpans her boyfriend. "No comment on your mom and my sister being friends."

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"It's not even just her, is it, it's an entire gang of these people and their - extraplanar - things and methods - and you fell right into them," whispers Yerena.

"I have a mom. Woo, scary." She turns to Adarin. "Do you think she'll scream and run away if I let on that I have a father too?" she asks in a stage whisper.
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Adarin laughs. "Isabella, we're trying to be nice. Or at least civil."

(He is not mad. He loved that line.)

Gervail whispers back, "And now they have an entire bloodline. Did you hear? His sister, too."
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"My mom set Zeviana up with a girlfriend, and I have no plans to get pregnant any time in the near future. We have a couple immigrants. We are not trying to steal the genetic future of your sort of magic. It stole itself."

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"That much remains to be seen. Adarin stuck around until you showed up."

"Actually I stuck around after she showed up, knowing full well I could have just gone to a better place to live and then never come back. I stuck around for civil duty and all that. Then Enathira did her thing and that is what broke me. I thought that was clear? It's not Isabella's fault, please stop blaming her," corrects Adarin.

"Mm," says Gervail noncommittally.
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"I wouldn't have been very impressed with a plan that didn't involve ever going back for the relatively innocent fraction of the population of New Kystle," Isabella points out. "Though I would have been okay with prioritizing other things; there's billions of people on Earth to occupy ourselves with."

"You sound like a megalomaniac," says Yevena. "Occupying yourself."

"I assure you it's purely an aesthetic I put on."
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"She does, in fact, mean in the 'helping people' sense," says Adarin. "Not in the 'conquer things and start a dynasty' sense."

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"Yes, dynastics are pretty unnecessary for a naturally immortal species."

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"... Naturally... Immortal species?" says Gervail slowly, staring.

"I think you just broke him," snickers Adarin in English.
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"I will die if I get bored," clarifies Isabella. "I'm pretty good at keeping... occupied."

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"You will die if you get bored," mutters the stunned mage. "And - not before? Ever?"

A little smugly, Adarin says, "I found someone who has my lifespan. If we run away into the sunset together I won't be alone and miserable in a century."
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"No such thing as old age for me."

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Gervail is just kind of staring.

"It's a nice bonus. I was always a little concerned about what would happen in two centuries when everyone but my sister was gone. Now it's not as much of an issue!"

(Also because they're making everyone immortal. They can share the love.)
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(Yes, but Isabella's not going to mention that right now.)

"You look human," Yerena points out.

"Yes, we have a lot of things in common with them. In fact, my father is a human. Oops, I mentioned that I have one," she adds in a giggling whisper to Adarin.
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(Neither is Adarin. Maybe later.)

Adarin snickers, a little. "I do hope they won't react badly."

"Do all of your children just get immortality? Becoming - whatever you are?" asks Gervail.
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"...Half of them, under normal statistical circumstances."

(Figuring out immortality would be one hell of a statistical outlier.)
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"... Ah," manages Gervail.

"The others live normal-length lives," informs Adarin.

(Indeed it would be. Though if they don't manage it by the time they start talking about having children, if they ever do, Adarin would prefer to have girls. Immortality for his kids, and all.)
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(He will find Isabella in agreement if they have that conversation under those circumstances.)

"Does this help?" inquires Isabella.

"Only if the children are any more helpful than you!"

"...I would be worried," says Isabella. "If we had children more helpful than us. Would they sleep?"
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"I hope so, it's the best way to regain mana. They'd be partially crippled if they didn't," says Adarin dryly.

"It doesn't seem like you two are being very helpful," points out Gervail.

"You insulted my girlfriend. Multiple times."
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"It is difficult to offend a witch. Adarin, however, is not a witch," hums Isabella.

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"I am offended on her behalf," says Adarin loftily.

"Uh huh."

Gervail is kind of really, really concerned about them, now. They could destroy the world. This could be extremely bad. He glances at his wife.

"I'm a little concerned," he says quietly.

It is an understatement.
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"We have received, loud and clear, the message that you are concerned. What are you going to do about it?" asks Isabella. "Please bear in mind that while you are reasonably concerned... we are operating under the assumption that you're unlikely to be better than nothing in terms of things we care about... many of which include things you also care about."

(She's not holding her bow anymore, but it's still strung.)
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"I don't know yet. I'm still trying to figure out what you're planning to do," he points out.

"If you have immortal children and don't raise them right, they will cause a lot of trouble," his penguin adds.
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"I am unfortunately not convinced we have similar ideas of what raising children right may mean," Path tells the penguin.

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"Er. Teach them well, keep them from getting into trouble, quiet and polite?" says the penguin.

Adarin raises an eyebrow, but doesn't comment.
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"...I hope for the sake of your children," says Isabella, "that they are all naturally extremely boring."

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"I don't know what you mean by that," said Gervail, somewhat offended.

"Our children are very nice," proclaims the penguin.

Adarin continues to not say a word. He is not touching that subject. Nope.
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"Yes," says Isabella, "that is plain."

"What are you getting at?" Yerena asks.

"I'm getting at: I'm not impressed with you. I don't think you can help me or Adarin with anything we want to do in any ways we need, in the form of practical help or advice. Including needs like 'charming conversation'. You're not charming, you're not useful, and I'd really rather be getting on with my afternoon than talking to you, so now I'm getting increasingly uncharming myself in case I can get you to go away. Since I'm not planning to shoot you just for being irritants. If you would like any reasonable demonstration of my general harmlessness we can talk about that. Otherwise I'm willing to give you up to half an hour spent checking you into a hotel, as a courtesy and since I don't want you bivouacking on top of my garage, and writing up a little phrasebook so you can order room service until you have enough mana to go home, and then I'm done."
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Adarin laughs, softly.

He gives a brief explanation of some of the specifics - they wouldn't know what hotels or room service are - and then says, "That being said, I agree with Isabella in that neither of us would like to make nice."

"We haven't been rude," points out Gervail.

"Actually, you really, really have been. We are being extremely reasonable, though maybe not personable. You've spent most of your time here commenting on my choices in women, or how we've been incredibly unhelpful when you've been just as unhelpful to us. We don't owe you anything, and you only showed up because I was inconvenient. Let's not pretend it's anything more. I will not stop being inconvenient to you because you ask me to," he says icily. "Also it is really quite rude to insult someone's girlfriend. I don't know where you thought otherwise."
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"You have responsibilities because of your gifts! The - the timing and the behavioral changes are worrying -" Yerena stammers.

"I acknowledged earlier," says Isabella, "that from the outside it probably does look kind of like I did something to him. But you have yet to make the corresponding acknowledgment: you are not entitled to a look from the inside. You have my statement that I didn't do anything and his statement that I didn't do anything and plenty of new information about what happened to him the last time he was on New Kystle to go on for explaining what changed his tune. That's what you get. Do you want a hotel room or do you have the mana to go home now or do you want to wander the streets of a strange city with daemons you don't know how to handle and a language you don't know how to speak?"
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"... Hotel room. We don't have the mana to get home right now," sighs Gervail.

"All right. Isabella, should I write the translation phrase book while you find the hotel?" asks Adarin. "You're the official one."
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"Sure. 'Charge it to the room'. 'Meals for two, whatever you recommend'. 'I have lost my room key'. 'I can't figure out how to operate a key card.' That kind of thing." She pulls out her phone and starts looking for Seattle hotels.

Path hops forward a few steps towards the penguin, since she's still on the ground and the cat is in Yerena's arms.

"Crash course on how to be a daemon. Don't touch other people besides your person - really really don't. Daemons are fine, though, you can touch the cat. You should get your own name. You can't get too far away from him or it hurts. If you can't be around him all the time for some reason, especially if people try to grab you, you need to get a few hundred yards away even though it hurts, but teleporting will work to cheat it out of taking too long. You don't have to eat but you can if you want. You sleep when he does. I think you're an Adelie penguin but I don't know what it means about you. Questions?"
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He nods, retrieves his book of cheat-sheets, flips to a blank page, and gets to translations.

Soon enough he's done. He rips out the page and hands it to Gervail. "There you are. Please tell anyone who asks that I have not gone the way of my mother. Also that I would prefer not to have visitors."

"No," says the penguin quietly. "Thank you."
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"No problem," says Path. He goes back to Isabella.

Isabella finds a hotel. She hops on her cloud-pine, kisses Adarin goodbye, and leads the couple out of the parking garage at walking pace. She gets them a room: "Charge my card. They don't speak a lick of English - no, nor Spanish. You have someone who speaks Tagalog on staff, really? Well, it's not that either, sorry. If they make trouble, call me. They have a phrasebook but if they're incomprehensible also call me. They'll probably leave without formally checking out. They're from far away and might need the amenities demonstrated for them - key card, plumbing, lamps."

The hotel person swipes her card and shows the visiting mages to a room, where he does indeed demonstrate the key card, plumbing, and lamps.
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Adarin heads home through the portal, and finds a nice spot to curl up with his magic talking bird. He's got some things to talk about with her.

Gervail is curious about lots of things in the hotel, but obviously he can't ask questions. He doesn't have the drive to try working through lots of hand motions, so he doesn't. He assumes it's all magic and leaves it at that. At least it's a nice place to stay while they wait for their mana to regenerate.
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Isabella leaves them there, reminding the hotel staff to call her if they fuck something up, and flies through the portal to go home to Adarin and flop on him.

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Daemon talk is concluded, and then Isabella's home. He is flopped on.

Cuddles!

"So, that's the kind of thing I dealt with all the time," he says lightly. "Charming people, right? We should build a summer home there."
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"I will admit this along with my other experiences of your world puts your past offer to build me a house there in a somewhat unflattering light. I just hope they don't wreck the aircon unit in their hotel room or something and cost me a few hundred bucks, that would be irritating." Snuggle. "How did you grow up marinating in that and come out so great?"

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"I was going to put it deep in the night side where no one goes because of the cold. Probably next to the portal at same. So you'd be far away from them," he says. "I think you have my father to blame, mostly. He was good at fathering, kept me sane with lots of stories. You would have liked him."

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"Well, how'd he turn out so great then? Is it just 'cause he wasn't a mage?"

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"I think? I mean, I don't think all mages are terrible, but the culture is toxic. So I guess him just not having grown up in that was what did it."

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"...What mages are there who aren't terrible besides you and Zeviana, and should we be talking to them?"

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"The two we met were of the non-terrible sub-type. They probably have good intentions, but -" He makes a vague hand motion. "You saw. The casual entitlement."

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"I'd categorize them as terrible, just not obviously dangerous about it."

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"That is non-terrible. I take what I can get."

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"You can get better than mildly terrible busybodies, now." Nuzzle.

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He giggles. Nuzzle! "Okay, well, I take what I can get for redeemable features for New Kystle mages. I am much happier here."

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"I'm glad."



"I was sort of worried that you'd be suspicious of me when they started insinuating that I had to have slipped you something or something."
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"Um, no? Why would I be? They were just insinuating things, it happens. I know you better than they do. Thus, why I love you."

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"I know that and you know that but you could've reasonably decided that you didn't know that you know that. Mind-affecting spells exist. They're rare - and nauseating - but they exist."

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... Snuggle.

"I didn't know those existed, but I'm pretty certain that I'm not being mind-controlled. I mean - what are the effects of some of them? Are they subtle or really obvious? I'm not getting suspicious of you, I am just paranoid and would like to keep an eye out for them. Because... Ick."
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"I have a birth-blessing immunity, for which I'm very thankful, because, yeah, ick. I don't actually know much about them - and wards ward them off as well as they do other things so they'd have to aim at you while you were away from home and not on the clan lands either. I can write Metis if you want to know more. I don't think they're impossible to fight, any of them, if that helps? But I'm not sure how subtle they get."

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"That helps, it's just a little - disturbing," he says. He stops to think. "Nothing I've done has been particularly - strange or completely unlike me. I see a logical train of events that leads to a conclusion that's not - absurdly perfect or something. It's nice, better than I could have hoped, but if it were perfect we would be finished helping everyone in a weekend. So I stand by my earlier analysis and say there was no strange magic involved."

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"I don't think you're under one of these spells. Like I said, they're not common, and I can't have been gotten so I'd notice if you were acting weird." She squeezes him.

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He kisses her hair, gently. "Thank you. I did mean it, when I said I trusted you. Let me know if I start acting weird."

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"I will. But I don't expect it."

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"Neither do I. But it is a better idea to be careful than not and be some kind of magical puppet. Or worse."

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"If it makes you nervous I can look into more warding spells to put on your person, which might help, but there's a reason we do geographical locations - it just works a lot better than personally wrapping up everyone in protections."

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"... I'm not going to turn down more protections. If it's a particular pain, though, I promise not to make faces at you if you don't. Want me to try my hands at thinking of protections for you?"

Actually, now that he thinks about it, he should probably get on that anyway. To be safe.
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"If you have some that'll stick instead of constantly draining you? Yeah, might not be amiss. I'll write to some people about more wards. Hopefully you don't run out of places to put tattoos."

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"I could put them on clothes, I think that would work. Maybe reinforcing your silks to be like body armor. If I run out of places to put tattoos I will be extremely surprised. There's a lot of room on my back left already, if that runs out then I suppose we can move on to creative things, like the bottom of my feet or something."

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"Ooh, if you turn my silks into armor I might switch to a different tying style. In which case I'd need different lengths. So I guess you can test it on this set but if it works I'll want it on a longer piece or three."

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"I will add it to my list of projects," he says brightly. "I love having this many magic things to do, it's fun."

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"It's good to be busy!"

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"Indeed it is! I wouldn't know what to do with myself if I wasn't."

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"Be bored, I imagine. Some people like being bored. I imagine that's what Charlie likes about fishing."

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Adarin snickers. "I would still like to try it once and see what it's like myself. Eventually, when I have less things to do."

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"But ideally while I still have plenty on my plate and will not become disconsolate without company."

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"Of course," laughs Adarin. "I can always think of new things to do to throw at you, if that becomes a problem."

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She giggles.

"How long do you think those people will have to stay in this plane before they can go home?"
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"Hmm... A we- er, five days. I am trying very hard to get used to your calendar. It only sometimes works."

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"I have no idea where seven-day-weeks came from, they're weird and don't match with anything else."

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"Yes. It's terrible and you should feel ashamed on behalf of your people," deadpans Adarin.

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"Does Wikipedia make up for it?"

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"Hmmmm. Yes."

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"Well then. Since in addition to Wikipedia we also have chocolate, I think I will be proud instead."

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Adarin laughs. "Planar nationalism. Is that a thing? Should I invent a new word for it? I kind of want to invent a new word for it."

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"Planarity. No, that sounds like I'm just really flat."

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"Hmm. Planaralism? Planarism? Those both are kind of a mouthful..."

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"Platriotism. Now I'm just being silly."

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He snickers and kisses her. "Yes, but it's delightful. Planorianism. Plane, pride, pride in plane.... Plaide? I'm going with plaide."

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"Plaide! It's like plaid, but less flannely."

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"Pfff okay now I can't use plaide, it's too funny..."

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"Plide maybe, keep the other vowel."

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"Maybe, but that also sounds quite silly."

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"But much less stripey!"

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"True. That is a bonus. But I think we can do better, my dear. Planarianism? Planar proud. Ploud?"

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"A planarian is a kind of worm," Isabella points out. "Ploud sounds like you're trying to say 'cloud' and screwed up."

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He snorts with laughter. "I'm trying. Thinking of new words is hard!"

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"I'm sure something will enter the lexicon over time as it becomes a more relevant concept."

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"Aha, so you're suggesting that we leave it alone for a while. I'll accept that. We have the time to wait."

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"Lots and lots of time."

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Nuzzle! "I'll enjoy every minute of it. Unless I'm set on fire or something. Or something horrific happens. You know what, this is just not working out for me, I'll enjoy every minute of it with you, there."

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"My presence is not actually a particularly useful ward against fire."

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"Darn. Then I'll add the caveat that if I'm set on fire I will probably not enjoy it, even with you there."

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"Well, I'll do my best to put you out as soon as possible so you can go back to enjoying yourself, if ever this happens."

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"Thank you," says Adarin gravely. "That means a lot to me."

(He's got a ghost of a smile on his face.)
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"It shouldn't, I would try to put out a fire that was on just about anybody. It doesn't mean I liiiike you or anything."

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"No? My heart is now broken, Isabella. I shall wander the planes, grieving. For years. I'll let you know if I find anything cool."

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"I do like you, you just shouldn't jump to that conclusion because of the fire thing!" Snuggle.

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He laughs, snuggling back. "I will take this lesson to heart. My broken, broken heart, barely mended with an application of a small band-aid."

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"Awww." She pats the general location of his heart.

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He mock winces. It's really not convincing.

"Ow, my poor heart."
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She kisses the general location. "There you go, all better. I have magic healing powers, didn't you know?"

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"I didn't! My, that's useful and incredibly convenient. How do you plan to use your magic healing powers for good?"

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"Magically healing people, of course."

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"That is a shock, I am surprised by this unexpected turn of events."

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"Oh no! Shock! Can your poor recently damaged heart take it?"

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"I'm - not sure... Barely holding on, it's going so dark," says Adarin with a bit too much drama. He should not take up acting.

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"Perhaps true love's kiss will save you."

She tries it.
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Kiss!

"I am saved!"
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"Good. I hope to keep you for a very, very long time."

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"Awww," he says. "Thank you. I would like to stick around for just as long."