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Time passes. Canada is cooperative about portals and now there's one each in Toronto, Montreal, and Vancouver, on a second floor of the hub with customs agents Isabella is tolerating for the time being as long as they're well-behaved. Japan and Australia and the UK all follow suit at roughly the same time, so then there are portals in their big cities, too, a couple new ones per week. Other nations are slated to trickle in as they handle their red tape to deal with sudden new national borders that don't have the built-in delay of airplanes. Some of the parking garages are being replaced with custom-built installations. Isabella pays off her loan, renegotiates for the continued use of her shiny credit card, and has reason to be grateful for her retained law firm, which is kept busy by frivolous lawsuits by airline companies. She's not appreciably cutting into their traffic yet - sure, the price point is dropping, but they're still competitive. They can just smell their own demise coming from a mile away.
Five witches besides Isabella ward the colony site. Robots guard the site of the portal, obligingly letting colonists through during scheduled trips and reporting to Isabella by mirror if anybody else shows up. Other robots help the colonists with setting up their farms and houses in the warded area. It'll hold a city, no problem, although another transfer of silks and bags to pay for warding a second site is going to be called for before they get literally everyone across, since in addition to city they need farmland, and since they can't build vertically as effectively as fully industrialized Earthlings or the deceased aliens.
One day:
"It's been exactly a year now since you crashed my picnic. Let's go to a fancy restaurant and celebrate."
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prodigal_miser
(Snuggle! Snuggle, snuggle.) "We're glad! Adarin was trying to keep to the color scheme. Because you gave us a color scheme so we'll stick to it."
prodigal_miser
"Awwww!" says Vern, and then there is preening because she is so pleased with him and Isabella. "He likes making her happy, and keeping her safe. Like the tattoos she gave us, except with clothes. Stylish clothes."
prodigal_miser
"Thanks," says Vern, nuzzling. "Adarin doesn't forget that he's protected, but he does forget occasionally that it's in the form of tattoos and sometimes he is surprised that he has them when he's out of the shower or something. We like them, though. They're useful."
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Path giggles at the mental image of Adarin being surprised at his own tattoos. "I wonder how long it will take him to get used to them."
prodigal_miser
Vern giggles, too. "We're not sure. He's used to them when he remembers them, but of course sometimes he forgets."
prodigal_miser
"Exactly. It's why he forgets about them and is surprised when a mirror is present and sees something black on his back. Once he thought there was something on him, a bug, maybe. It was funny."
prodigal_miser
Vern giggles. "I know! It was absolutely hilarious, he said, 'Vern, is something on my back?' and I was so confused until he started describing it."
prodigal_miser
Adarin would throw a pillow at Vern, if he wasn't busy, or if she wasn't snuggled with Path. He settles for making a face at her and then going back to what he was doing.
Vern giggles some more and preens Path right back. Nuzzles are also included.
Vern giggles some more and preens Path right back. Nuzzles are also included.
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Isabella does her best to hold his attention so their birds can chat without more than the usual and pleasant forms of distraction.
prodigal_miser
She is doing a lovely job of it. Adarin loves her so much.
Vernaia goes back to cuddling, she doesn't have any more topics of conversation unless Path does. But cuddles are always the best.
Vernaia goes back to cuddling, she doesn't have any more topics of conversation unless Path does. But cuddles are always the best.
Here Ends This Thread