quackity and schlatt in the scholomance
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"It's fine. Not a bad thing. ...And you only want Brits, huh? Seems like you're limiting your pool a bit more than you can afford."

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"I mean, even if we can't get anyone, it's fine, I'll just be the oldest, my little brother's coming in next year and I have a few friends, we can branch off from there, grow over time. But it'd be better if we could get more people from the start, the more people we have the better it'll work."

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"I'll tell you what, Wilbur. I'd be interested in being part of your little project. I'm gonna tell you something, you don't have a great chance of success, but your logic checks out, if you do succeed it'll be a big deal. I'm willing to go out on a limb for you. But you gotta work with me, here."

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".....You're not British."

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"Mhmmmm. But I am a year older than you and you've already had a few people tell you no."

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"...You can come to our meetings. But I don't know if we want you as a full member. We'll--we'll discuss it."

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"You're making a mistake."

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"--You'll still ask around, right?"

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Deep sigh. "Probably. What are you offering?"

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"I have some song spells, if you know anyone who wants those."

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"Great. Then it's been a pleasure doing business with you, Wilbur Suit." (He says the name wrong on purpose, just because.)

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Dramatic bow. "Likewise."

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He's fucked. Terminally fucked. This is a big gamble, and probably a bad one.

 

He's still, probably, going to take Wilbur up on it. Maybe he can help make them a little less doomed. Or maybe they'll drag him down with them. Who's to say, really.

 

Schlatt is, in fact, a British indie. He could put in a good word. (The more pragmatic part of his brain points out that freshmen make easy targets, and that the scholomance is built around using easier targets as meat shields. The less pragmatic part of his brain is already getting ahead of himself imagining futures where it works.)

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Which is how he ends up on sprawled on the floor of Schlatt's room the next day asking, "Do you know Wilbur Soot?"

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"Phil's kid, right? Yeah, I've heard of him. Hard to not, his older brother's a fuckin' legend, man."

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"Sure, yeah, we've all heard of Terrence. Wilbur had this idea--it's sort of like, trying to get the benefits of an enclave but as an indie, right? So he's trying to start a group across different years, get as many Brits in on it as he can until it's just, like, what all the British indies do, maybe get survival rates up. Homework sharing, mana sharing, whole nine yards."

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"That is the dumbest fucking idea I've ever heard."

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"Awwww, come on, it's not that bad. If there's someone half-competent there then they'll be able to help with homework and they're all freshmen so it's not like they'll be asking for much mana."

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"Wait just a goddamn minute here, are you actually trying to sell me on this crap?"

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"I just think it'd be nice to, y'know, maybe... maybe give it a try! And if we want to leave, we leave, no big deal." And Schlatt can have a kiss about it.

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"...Only 'cause you're so goddamn cute."

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Alex: 1, Schlatt: 0. "That's great, that's great! I'll let them know we're showing up to the next meeting."

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"Whoa, whoa, let's not get ahead of ourselves. Tell them I'm not sharing my fucking mana unless they do my homework first."

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"Sure thing, babe."

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And they can meet up at the library.

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