Behind her back, the door swings open to admit a dark-haired girl in her late teens. 

Raven was expecting her father's library, but she may in fact have stumbled upon something more interesting than books. Taking a look behind her to make sure the corridor is still there, she steps through into the bar that just appeared inside her house, and looks around for someone who might be able to explain things.

The room appears to be mostly empty - although she is briefly distracted from noticing this when she notices the window showing are those exploding stars - with the exception of a woman sitting at the bar reading a book. Well, that's a good sign.

Raven heads over to the bar, walking confidently as though she knows exactly what she's doing and has every right to be there. She's not underage, no sir definitely not. Napkins appear on the polished wood in front of her, and she jumps, then begins reading them at lightning speed. 

"How are you doing that?"

"Hm?" Joss looks up at the other girl's voice. Her gut twinged slightly, but she pushed it aside - she was here for a nice, quiet drink, that was all. "Napkins aren't me if that's what you're wondering."

She keeps half an eye on the girl as she turns most of her attention back to her book.

"Then who--" Another napkin appears, clarifying that the bar is Bar and she is responsible for the napkins. "Oh, pardon me, I hadn't realised," Raven says to Bar. "Do you produce beverages from nothing, too, or is it only napkins?"

The next napkin says I can produce any non-living, non-magic, non-weapon item that will fit on my surface. The first drink is free.

Raven reads this over a few times to be absolutely certain she isn't misinterpreting the contents. "So, if I want something other than a drink, I will need to pay?" She wishes she had a purse with her, but she doesn't make a habit of carrying money around in the house. She considers the evidence, and forms a hypothesis.

"Excuse me?" she says hesitantly, not especially wanting to disturb a fellow reader. "Did the bar provide you with that book?"

Joss looks up again. "Yup," she pops the p as she nods. "My room decided to be a bar, and I decided that I wasn't going to read my textbooks or lectures notes," she points at the bag at her feet. "So, I asked for a book. It's a very large list. You might want to be specific on what you want on your rec list." (It had taken her a minute to realise that she was going to need to narrow her own list down.)

She marks her place, sets the book down for a minute and stretches. She tilts her head slightly in the girl's direction, trying to figure out what it is about her that is making her own gut act up. She almost feels like a shifter, but...

Joss shakes herself and picks up her book again.

A very large list, hmm? Combine that with Bar's statement that she can produce anything within various limitations... Raven freezes for several seconds, only jolted out of contemplating all the books when she realises she needs to breathe. All the books, in all the worlds...

"Thank you," she says when she remembers that social conventions exist again. "Bar, I do not suppose you could be persuaded to accept credit?" 

Bar, as it happens, is willing to lend books for free so long as they are returned in good condition and not removed from the premises. Shortly, Raven has a respectable stack of books in front of her, with titles like The Elements of Magic and Magical Theory Since Aristotle. One in particular, which seems rather slim for such a large title, declares itself to be A Practical Treatise Regarding the Nature and Properties of Quintessence, Called Essence. Forget her father's library, Raven is not planning to leave this bar for a year. She sits on the nearest seat and starts reading.

"Interesting reading material," Joss does not appear to have looked up from her own book. "I guess you don't agree with keeping studying and bars separate, huh?"

She pauses to take a sip of her drink looking over. "Shifter?" she asks. If the girl doesn't understand what that means, she can write it off as muddling a word, or pretend she never actually said it.

"This bar" - she pats the polished surface, smiling - "will loan me books I am not allowed to read anywhere else, books which do not even exist in my world and never will. That takes precedence over any social convention regarding the correct use of bars." There might have been a hint of sarcasm in that last part. 

Then the second question registers. Raven is a good actor, but nowhere near as good as her brother; her flinch is visible to anyone watching.

"...Yes," she confirms reluctantly, having no other option (except bolting and leaving the books) that wouldn't require the ability to lie. "What gave it away?" 

"There's books you're not allowed to read?" Joss can't hide the shock at that, or her horror. "That's...barbaric. I mean, I suppose someone wanting to read Mein Kampf might raise flags, but... You should still have the right to. Heavens above, what are people thinking. ...I suppose books that don't exist that's fair." She snorts slightly, looking down. "I promised myself I wouldn't mix studying and bars, that way madness and alcoholism lies."

She notices the flinch, but pretends to not.

She does notice the reluctance to confirm though. She shakes her head at the question. "Nothing most people would notice, don't worry. I am...peculiarly gifted in identifying the supernatural."

Raven relaxes when the woman's attitude towards her doesn't seem to change for the worse. It seems she won't be forced to abandon her books after all. "That's an interesting gift, especially since I would not describe myself as supernatural. How did you come by it?"

She smiles, just a little, at this person who apparently shares her opinions on books. "I am Isabella, by the way. Might I have the pleasure of knowing your name?" Giving out her Christian name to someone who knows her species is a risk, but not a particularly large one without her surname attached. Besides, someone so instinctively opposed to secrecy and censorship seems unlikely to be a spy.

"Supernatural is kind of a catch-all term for us describing things that aren't just unpowered humans." Joss waves a hand vaguely, before ducking her head slightly. "Always had it. Don't ask me how. Took me a while to realise what it actually was. Uh, and Jez kinda whacking me over the head about it." She scratches the back of her head. "It took me an embarrassing amount of time to accept it." And a lot of family drama, but she does not want to think about that right now.

Joss sets her book down away and twists so that she can offer her hand. "Joss," she says with an attempt at a disarming grin. "Fair warning for my potential to babble."

"Pleasure to meet you." Raven smiles back as she shakes hands. It's a genuine smile, not the one she's practised in the mirror since she was five, but most people who aren't her brother couldn't tell the difference anyway. "And I won't mind your babbling if you don't mind my asking questions about everything you don't warn me away from.

"So it isn't a mage talent? Or do you not mean literally always?" Technically, she's not asking how, just ruling out one possible explanation which doesn't fit the evidence anyway. She's curious, but she'll back off if Joss wants to avoid the topic.

The Elements of Magic has been discarded for the moment (bookmarked with a napkin) on the basis that this conversation is currently more interesting than the magical theory of which she already knew the basics anyway.

"I'll let you know if anything's off limits," Joss says with a more genuine grin.

"I mean literally always. 'Mage talent' isn't a term I'm familiar with. I mean, I can gather the basic meaning, but to my knowledge, it isn't used very often. I think the people who learn their magics prefer the term 'abilities' or 'powers'. And they normally preface it with 'god-given' just to be pretentious. No-one really knows how I got my...Jez says I should call it a 'gift'," her tone might suggest that she thinks 'curse' would be a more fitting word. "But like hell am I bothering to preface that."

She sighs, grabs her drink and takes a long swig, before managing to smile again. "Is it rude to ask what your other form is? If it is, I'm sorry, and discount that question entirely." It's pretty clear that Isabella isn't entirely comfortable with people knowing she's a shifter to begin with.

"I'm not sure there is an applicable social convention to determine the rudeness of that question. At least not in my - oh, that could explain a few things. We aren't necessarily from the same world, even though we're both familiar with magic and with shifters." Now she's aware of the possibility, Raven notices that Joss' clothes aren't exactly the sort she'd expect to see on the streets of London - not worn by a woman, at least. Now how to test it...

"To where and when does your door open? Mine is a London townhouse in 1849." She will need to check with Bar, but she very much doubts that there can be two doors to different time periods of the same world at the same time, especially since closing the door pauses time in that world. "Oh, and I might as well tell you, especially if it turns out we are from different worlds. I'm a raven. Corvus corax." It feels surprisingly good to tell someone. Everyone at home has either known for years, or isn't allowed to find out.

"If you find it insulting, or rude, it's rude. Some packs are very...specific about who can and can't ask that question." She runs her fingers through her hair. "That would make sense," she says thoughtfully, tugging out a tangle.

"My uni halls. Britain, twenty-fifteen."

Joss feels like her grin is splitting her face. "That's really cool," she says. "I think you might be right about the different worlds thing. We don't really have many bird-shifters in mine. I mean, there's probably some somewhere and I just don't know about them. I'm basically the furthest from being a person most of our supernaturals will tell stuff to as is possible." She winces slightly as that falls out of her mouth. She had not meant to say that.

"More than a century apart. That explains your clothing, I suppose." Raven's tone is decidedly not one of disapproval for Joss' choice of outfit. There might even be a hint of envy in her voice, and it grows as she continues. "Women can attend university in your time? That is good news, even if our worlds are different; they are similar enough that we both have a Britain, at least." Raven looks delighted at the prospect of higher learning. "Perhaps that will happen soon enough that I may take advantage. They would not let me study magic, but I could at least learn anything else I pleased." 

"Birds are not the most common--perhaps one in four or five? But yes, more frequent than anything except mammals, so it would be surprising if you had met many shifters and not encountered one. What animal forms are common for your type of shifter, then?" She seems to be completely ignoring the comment about Joss not getting told things, and happy to continue exchanging information for as long as the other woman will indulge her curiosity. 

"I hope it does," Joss says sincerely. "I'm really lucky with when I was born and the chances I've got open to me." She tilts her head. "Why wouldn't they let you study magic? Does magic get split by gender or something?"

"I can't give you exact numbers," she admits, "but from what I know it's mostly carnivorous mammals and reptiles. Wolves, lions, crocodiles, snakes, that sort of thing. And...I haven't met many shifters." Depending on how you viewed 'met'. "I just know people who have. And are willing to answer my questions."

Raven nods. "Willingness to answer questions is a valuable and unfortunately rare trait. I endeavour to be so willing, under the principle of 'do as you would be done by', but sometimes forget." 

Turning back to her stack of books, she flips through a couple of them, clearly looking for a specific piece of information. "Magic is only taught to those with enough essence to use it," she explains while she searches. "Shifters either never have enough essence, do not have essence at all like animals, or have a different kind of essence which is not detectable in the same way."

The object of her search turns out to be in Nature and Properties of Quintessence. Tapping the page, Raven reads out, "Although the factors which determine the quantity of a man's essence are as yet unknown, it is easy enough to show that one man in every hundred, and no more, has the potential to perform magical feats of any significant size. This was written over a century ago," she adds, "and the scholars still do not know what makes the difference between a mage and a non-mage."

"That sucks." Joss hums, "Is there a genetic, uh, familial link between mages? I know that a lot of the different supernaturals in my world are connected by family bloodlines. Magic-users specifically are harder to pin down depending on the type of magic they're using. Some of it's book-learned, and doesn't need, uh 'essence'?"

"Did you want a drink by the way? I need a refill anyway." She gestures at Bar, requesting her own refill. "I'm pretty sure Bar can do tea if nothing else appeals."

"Tea would be wonderful, thank you," Raven says distractedly. "I would describe mages as using book-learned magic, actually: just having the potential is not enough to be able to use it. The minimum requirement is seven years of schooling, but the best study for decades. I'm not sure exactly what difference it makes, though..." 

She looks ready to dive back into her books in search of an answer, but Bar chooses this moment to refill Joss' drink and appear a cup and saucer in front of Raven. She picks up her tea, instead, and blows on it while thinking about the answer to the question on heredity.

"No," she concludes after a moment. "Ancestry would be an obvious criterion to test - you thought of it within a few minutes - and trivial to notice given that magic has been known for three hundred years. If mage potential were hereditary, someone would have noticed in that time."

"You said there was more than one type of magic in your world, correct? Could you tell me about some of them?"

"I have never been more thankful what I do is instinctive," Joss grimaces slightly. "Guess it was too much to hope that it would be something that simple."

She rattles her fingers on the bar, gathering her thoughts. "Again, I'm...not necessarily the best person to try and explain this. So. The non-bloodline magic tends to be more like alchemy - it needs ingredients, and some of it requires certain conditions to be met." Joss hadn't started reading up on this recently, no sir. "Then there's natural-borns, they still need to learn control, but it's less book-learning, a lot more instinct and word-of-mouth. Um. There's probably further distinctions in there that I have no clue about. But in terms of magic in general, other supernaturals have their own. To a degree. Reapers teleport, vampires have some weird mesmer thing going on, angels have their grace and demons...are weird."

"I am not an expert on my world's magic either, if you had not guessed." Raven goes to run a hand through her hair, notices she's holding a teacup, and takes a sip. "Your world seems to have more types of...supernaturals? Than mine. We only have vampires, shifters and mages so far as I am aware."

That brings up an interesting question, though. "Bar, are there any other 'supernaturals' in my world? Is that the sort of thing you can find out?"

"It's not even the full list," Joss says, dropping her head into her hands for a moment. "And somehow ordinary humans manage to typically ignore them."

She looks sideways at Isabella, decides she isn't needed for that conversation, and, for now, picks her book up again. She's still paying attention, and will get involved again if her involvement is called for.

I can only account for those mentioned in published works, Bar explains, and it can be difficult to distinguish fact from fiction. That said, the evidence seems to suggest that there were, at some point, dragons. 

Raven pulls out a notebook, borrows a pen from Bar, and starts taking notes. "What kind of dragons?" she asks. "The legends vary. Four legs? Wings? Diet of virgins?" The sarcasm is back. "Why have I not heard of this? The way dragons are commonly described seems as though they would be difficult to keep hidden."

References to dragons in works not intended as fictional decline sharply in the late seventeenth century, the napkins report. The latest mention which I can definitively identify as factual dates from 1723.

Well, that's certainly a mystery worth pursuing, given infinite time and resources. "Might I have a copy of that work?" It appears. "Thank you."

Joss snorts. "Dragons. Rather like wolves. Except reptilian, have wings, breathe fire, more vicious, and you don't want to encounter one without armour piercing rounds and a fully automatic weapon. Also possibly a couple of tons of steel armour to stop them clawing you to pieces. At least in my experience." She shrugs. "Also, typically omnivores, they prefer meat, but they'll eat anything. Not, uh, that that's probably going to apply to your world at all. I'll just shut up now."

"No, please do continue. It might be useful information," Raven points out. "Shifters at least appear to be quite similar between our worlds, although not entirely identical. Dragons may be the same." She checks back through her notes, and her memory of their conversation, to find another point of comparison, not willing to dig much deeper into the details of shapeshifter biology. They seem to be nearing the limits of Joss' knowledge on that particular subject, regardless. 

"Your world has vampires, I think you said? Shall we test my theory by finding similarities there?" It seems unlikely that two Earths would attach the same name to wildly different concepts, but just in case, Raven starts with the basics. "Vampires drink blood, burn in sunlight, and can live much longer than humans. Any differences yet?"

"Depends on the vampire," she says carefully. "The blood thing is the same, but dhamphier and dhamphieras don't burn up in the sunlight. Uh. Mixed vampire and human. Vampires can reproduce. They tend not to with humans because of the inherent heartbreak if the human doesn't want turning or the kid manages to somehow miss out on longevity."

"There's a difference," Raven comments. "My world's vampires are incapable of reproduction. No-one quite knows why." She frowns, dissatisfied with the thought of yet more missing knowledge.

"The 'blood thing', as you put it, I would expect to be the defining characteristic of anything described as a vampire; it is near to the only common feature of the old legends from before vampires were known." She rattles off another round of questions at Joss. "Are there any other differences between vampires and their part-human offspring? What about variance in the dhamphier themselves? You implied that they can sometimes miss out on some of the standard abilities; are there ones they never have, and do they have any of their own?"

"Good question. I live with two dhamphier. Nic and Des. They don't know yet whether they're inheriting their mother's longevity. They'very only just turned eighteen. Should start to figure it out shortly. Aging works really weird for them. Their father on the other hand, had innate healing. And Nic did inherit that. Des has the mesmer thing - it was how vampires used to lure in their victims. They could just brute-force it, but most of them preferred more elegant methods. These days they put it to better use typically. Des tends to use it to get me to go to sleep. Otherwise vamps pick up jobs as night-time therapists, either over hotlines or otherwise. I'm afraid I'm not so sure on whether there's any abilities they never get. They both have slightly enhanced senses, speed and strength. My knowledge is pretty piecemeal I'm afraid."

The impression might be given that Joss has a very broad, but very shallow knowledge of quite a few supernatural creatures, and for some reason, she's slightly ashamed of this fact.

"Any knowledge at all is worth sharing if there is any conceivable way it could be put to use. If your lack of information on your own world bothers you, perhaps we should investigate Bar's library again." Raven can understand being uncomfortable with one's own ignorance, and sees this as a problem easily solved by acquiring more knowledge. 

"On this particular subject, you have given me enough information to be confident that our vampires are substantially different. Those in my world do not have any particular aptitude for mind-affecting magic, and I understand are likely to be worse at magic in general than a comparable human. They do have slightly enhanced senses, especially night-vision, but I do not know enough to evaluate their strength and speed relative to humans." She considers this, and concludes that while attempting to uncover further subtle differences between their respective types of vampire might be interesting, it would not be a sufficiently productive use of Joss' time, which may be limited even though her own is not.

The best course of action is probably to establish what information she will not be able to obtain from Bar. "I apologise if this is a question you do not wish to answer, but would you mind telling me how you come by your knowledge of supernaturals? From what you have told me, it seems that the majority of your world's human population lives in ignorance of other sapient life." 

Joss scrubs both hands over her face. She almost doesn't want to answer, but...

But it's also information. Knowledge, and she kind of likes Isabella, and this is potentially knowledge that'll help keep Isabella alive. If her world has Hunters.

"My Da-" her voice breaks, and she takes a deep breath and tries again. "My Dad's a Hunter. Of the supernatural. I was too." She's staring at the top of the bar, her shoulders a tense line, one hand a tight fist. "Never questioned it. Probably should've, but... Ma was a mess, and Dad said it was because she'd been attacked by something. So we Hunted. And we were good at it. And then I went to uni, and a lot of things changed. I learned the supernatural isn't the evil my Dad had always made them out to be." She laughs, and it's altogether too bitter to be genuine. "A devil makes more time for his daughter than my old man ever did for me. Beel never forgets plans either." It's not entirely clear if she meant to say that last bit out loud.

She looks at Isabella out of the corner of her eyes. "I'll understand if you'd rather I went and found another seat now."

Well. That explains a lot. Raven's first visible reaction is to say, perfectly calm and with apparent sincerity, "Thank you for telling me."

She made herself a promise, once, that she would never let anyone regret telling her something. Being the sort of person it is safe to tell secrets is a good strategy for learning more of them. She knows, therefore, that her response can not be to drive Joss away. That would, in any case, be unproductive: Joss clearly regrets her past and is not currently a danger to any supernaturals, including Raven herself, but is as much a source of useful information as she was a minute ago. 

Raven is not an expert at navigating complex social situations, but she has found that honesty is often best responded to with honesty. She attempts to assemble her thoughts into sentences that will make sense to someone not herself. "Please do not feel obliged to leave on my behalf. I can understand that some supernaturals might be afraid of a former hunter, but I have no reason to think that you are a danger to me." She smiles. "You have, in fact, been far more civil than most humans from my world would be to a shifter."

Joss noticeably relaxes, a slight smile on her lips. She stares down at her drink.

"I...am relearning a lot. And being polite doesn't cost anything." She'd known that, even before her new reality had slapped her round the head and tipped her world upside down.

She frowns. "I'm guessing magic and shifters are more known in your world? And I'll take a wild guess that non-powered humans are taking it badly?" She frowns slightly. "If you want to talk about it that is. You don't have to. Humans are dicks."

"They are that." Raven laughs. 

"Magic has been widely known since sometime in the sixteenth century, shifters since the early seventeenth," she explains. "In the two or three centuries since then, mages have gained first acceptance and then prestige. Shifters..."

She hesitates a little before continuing. "Shifters can still be legally owned. It only recently - in my lifetime, in fact - became illegal to enslave a freeborn shifter. I'm lucky to have been raised by someone with enough social clout to protect me. Others my age were not."

Joss has always thought that someone's vision going red was just a saying, but apparently not. Because slavery is never right.

A sharp pain has her looking down. Apparently she's managed to shatter the glass in her hand, and shards have dug into her skin. She apologises to Bar - both for the breakage, and the bleeding - and requests a first aid kit. She pulls out the tweezers, and sets about extracting the glass from her hand with a practiced ease.

"Sorry," she says. "Just- The idea of owning another human, regardless of their 'magical' status is..." She shakes her head. "Our world had problems with wide-spread slavery until the eighteen hundreds, and there's still slavery ongoing today, just highly illegally. I- I'm glad you were lucky. But- Were you not raised by your paren- Shit, sorry. That's not a question I should be asking someone I've just met."

Raven's face is carefully expressionless as she explains, "Most humans would agree with you about the morality of owning 'another human'. The problem is the definition of the term." She is reciting facts which have absolutely no bearing on her personal life, look how detached she is. "The prevailing opinion, with the exception of protest groups, most shifters, and a few splinter denominations of Christianity, is that shapeshifters do not qualify."

The facade remains in place, barely, while she answers the other question. "This attitude leads many human mothers to abandon their shapeshifter children. I was given to an orphanage as a baby, and to this day I do not know who my biological parents were. I was adopted by a human couple whom I think of as my mother and father, and only rarely have cause to remember otherwise." There's a hint of emotion when she mentions her mother, but not strong enough to be identifiable. 

"It may be a rather personal question, but we seem to have been trading those for a while. At home, that I was adopted is less of a secret than my 'supernatural' status. And you told me about your family."

Joss finishes plucking the glass from her palm, and prods the wounds, thankful to find a suture kit for the deep one between her thumb and her palm. At least she doesn't have to restock her own first aid kit this time. She sets about neatly stitching the cut closed.

"Perhaps 'human' was the wrong word," she muses. "But then again, I'm not entirely sure it matters." The framing is all wrong, and for all Joss Hunted, she never saw the supernatural as less than human - just a threat that needed eliminated, like any other soldier in a war, soldiers didn't question who they were told to fight, even when they should. "Your parents sound like good people." There's a wistful tone to her voice as she breaks off her thread and checks her stitches.

"My father is, yes. He was the one who decided to adopt me." Pause. "My mother I don't remember so well. She - died. I was three years old."

And that's as much detail as Raven is willing to give someone who, as Joss herself pointed out, she only just met. There's no point going into all the complexities of her relationship with her father, even though she has a feeling Joss might sympathise with some of them. 

"Like I said, I am luckier than some." She shifts in her chair, seeming to shrink a little.

Joss gets the impression that Isabella doesn't want to talk about these things. She's silent as she wraps a bandage around her hand.

"Sorry for bringing up an obviously painful subject," she says, inclining her head. "I'll let you get back to your studying." She doesn't really like talking about her parents either.

Joss in turn, picks up her own book, ordering a replacement drink (provided, this time, in a plastic tumbler, much to Joss' amusement).

Raven goes back to reading through her stack of books in silence, which gradually shifts from tense to companionable.

After about an hour of uninterrupted study, she sets down the latest book, shifts to a more stable position on her chair, shuts her eyes, and goes still. Nothing happens for the first minute, but then a slight breeze starts up around her, lifting the ends of her hair.

A stray gust flaps noisily at the pages of Joss' book. Raven jumps, eyes flying open. The breeze drops abruptly.

Joss has been happily reading her book for the past hour, enjoying the tranquility that she could get.

She looks at the flapping pages and half-smiles, looking over at Isabella. "Progress?"

"Did you see that?" Raven is all but bouncing in her seat. "Did you see - that was magic I did magic - " She laughs with delight, springing to her feet just so she can spin around, flinging her hands out carelessly and almost knocking over Joss' drink. 

"I'm a mage!" She can't seem to stop grinning.

Joss grins as she pulls her drink out of harm's way. "Yes I did see that." The enthusiasm is infectious. She considers for a moment.

"I'm not sure how you'll feel about this but nothing of what I'm getting has changed. Well. I mean. The focus is a bit sharper, because you've just used an ability, but nothing integral to what was registering as you has changed. This is something you've always been capable of."

"Yes I know that's how it works but I didn't know that!" Raven might be slightly too excited for coherent communication.

"Everyone says shifters can't be mages but we can and we are and I just proved it!"

"Welp, proves that bigoted assholes truly are universal. Across all dimensions as well. Not that I doubted that, just...nice to have confirmation."

She taps her fingers against her tumbler. "So what are you going to do with that knowledge?"

Because while this is a wonderful discovery, that is also something that needs consideration.

"Tell the world, of course!" Raven barely needs to think about it. Something is fundamentally wrong in what she has been taught, and this needs to be fixed. 

After a second, she remembers that she needs an actual plan. "I'll show Papa, and he'll teach me magic and help me figure out how to tell the Academy so they'll believe us, and then they'll tell everyone else and people will believe them because they are the ones meant to know about magic!" 

"And what if they refuse to listen?" Joss feels like a bitch for pushing this, but this world does need this change, and Isabella has the evidence to change it. She needs an ironclad plan that covers at least a few eventualities. "I mean, I'm sure your Papa will listen, especially if you're able to repeat that little demonstration just there. But I find that people who are set in their ways dislike being told they're wrong. Especially if they're prejudiced against the person trying to do the telling." She knows she didn't want to listen to what her flatmates told her. "Especially if they suddenly can't take refuge in whatever shoddy logic they'd built to justify their treatment of shifters."

"...you have a point," Raven admits. "We were discussing, earlier, the fact that humans are terrible." She reaches for her notebook. 

"Do you have any suggestions? I realise you do not know a great deal about my world, but an outside perspective can be helpful."

"Well, the more evidence you have the harder it becomes to ignore," she says thoughtfully. "If you happen to know other shifters who you could teach magic to, that would help."

She taps her fingers together. "And you definitely need a plan for the Academy refusing to listen regardless of what you say and what evidence you bring to them. Someone else you can tell, or some other way to get the news out." She's still working on how to get the Hunters to stop.

"I definitely know other shifters," Raven says with a grin. She thinks for a moment. "In fact - "

She goes and opens the door, leaning through.

Connecting to the pack's mental bond - and is that her father's magic or her brother's, she now wonders - she calls to Cat, and only Cat: 'I've found something you'll want to see. Come to the library.'

Joss turns on her stool, and leans her elbows back on the surface behind her, watching Isabella curiously. There's a slight peak there, something soft and (weird as it sounds) gold. Similar to the feeling she gets around the hellhound packs, interconnected, family, but not quite the same.

Shortly, a blonde boy around Raven's age shows up at the door. He blinks, accepts Raven's explanation of Milliways, and waves at Joss before heading over to the bar and ordering a drink. 

"Joss, was it? Michael; I'm Isabella's brother." He holds out a hand for her to shake, turning to lean with his back to the bar. 

He's also a shifter: his magic looks similar to his sister's, and he also seems to be the source of the soft golden connection between them. 

"It was," she confirms, shaking his hand with a smile. "Pleasure to meet you."

She looks over at Isabella. "Feels exactly the same as you do."

"Meaning that you can tell I'm both a shifter and...a mage?" Clearly Raven filled him in on more than was spoken aloud. He doesn't sound like he entirely believes it, yet, but is willing to entertain the possibility. 

"Can you make anything of our pack bond? Rae has a theory about it..."

"Yeah," Joss nods. "It's... hard to define. Because being a mage is intrinsically part of who you are. When you use a particular part of your ability it's clearer to me, but...all pretty interconnected into what makes you, you."

She pauses for a moment, trying to figure out how best to explain. "It feels soft," she says after a minute. "And golden. Kinda like warm sunlight. It...it reminds me what I feel when I'm near hellhound packs. A...very close bond that...it's like what family should be?"

He can't help smiling at this description, or reaching out to pull Raven in for a hug. (The pack bond hums.)

"Can you see where it originates, if it does? And can you tell if it's the bond itself that lets us speak to each other, or something external?"

And Joss smiles at that, somewhat wistfully, and a tiny bit bitterly. She's glad of the distraction of the questions.

"It's not so much 'seeing'," she admits. "More of a feeling..." She pauses focusing on the feeling, trying to track where it originates. It's difficult at first, so wrapped around them, but eventually. "It originates from you, Michael. Can't see how exactly, but...you're the source. Can't tell if you can speak to each other from the feel of it, it's not that detailed. I just know it exists. From the way you knew that I had the ability to feel what you are, and it, suggests that you can at least communicate ideas with each other."

"Oh, we can speak to each other telepathically," Cat clarifies. "It's how I knew to come here. The question is whether our ability to do that is intrinsic to the pack bond, or through something that was supposedly separate. It's alright if you can't figure it out, we're mostly just curious." He gives her an indescribably charming smile.

"I'm the alpha; that's probably what you're seeing - or, feeling. The pack centres itself around me."

"Always good to be curious," she says. She leans back slightly, tilting her head at the smile. She gives a flat smile back. "You're cute, but not my type, hun."

"That does explain the difference in..." she gestures. "Power levels. It's not major, but you're definitely...brighter at a baseline."

That gets a laugh. "Likewise."

He nods at Joss' evaluation. "Hmm, I wonder if I'm a more powerful mage, as well?"

"Well, we have one way to find out," Raven reminds him. 

She explains - out loud, for Joss' benefit - the process of meditation to tap into one's magic for the first time, and demonstrates, producing another flurry of localised wind. Cat begins attempting to meditate.

Raven sits at the bar and watches quietly, trying not to disturb him. After a few minutes, she writes a note on the back of a napkin and shows it to Joss. 

Would you like to try? I have a hypothesis about magic which you could help me test.

She reads the note, having paid attention to the explanation given. She considers it, before scribbling a response.

Well, if it's for Science, why not? she gives a slightly unsure smile, but then closes her eyes, and slides easily into a medititive state like she's been doing it for a long time.

It's so nice to have people who will help with experiments.

Joss meditates for a while. She's capable of following the instructions probably better than most nine-year-olds could manage, and that's the age at which children generally start mage training, but gets absolutely nothing, well after Cat has managed to light his hair on fire and pat it all out again. 

"Almost all humans are supposed to get at least a tiny effect," Raven explains, "even if they are not powerful enough to be trained as mages. I might be on the borderline."

She seems pleased with the result. "This means my theory is likely correct, and this type of magic requires something with which only natives of my world are born."

Joss lets out a relieved laugh. "Thanks the gods. No offence, but whatever the hell my ability is was enough for me. And glad to be of service."

She squints at Michael. "Did you actually manage to burn yourself or are you okay without medical attention?"

"Perfectly fine, it stopped as soon as I lost concentration," he confirms, then frowns.

"I think it may have done something strange to the pack bond, though..."

He looks around the room, eyes slightly unfocused, and stops on Joss. "Oh." 

Joss jerks back slightly, and then stares at him. "What? I- Are you okay?"

"I'm...not entirely sure." 

Cat puts a hand to his head, as if it pains him.

"It feels like...the pack bond but more? Except I can feel you there as well, and you're not pack..."

She frowns, tapping her fingers on her thigh. "That sounds..."

She stops, looks around. "Alright, I'm going to test something here." She starts towards the door, before turning. "I promise he's friendly. Just very enthusiastic."

She opens the door and whistles.

A few minutes later, a large dog bounds through the door, stops, looks back at its tail, seems to frown when it sees a flame there that promptly vanishes, before turning back to Joss. It bounds forward and headbutts her in the stomach, before jumping up to lick her face. (She's laughing, and obviously not at all concerned by this behaviour.)

Raven makes a rather undignified "eep" sound when the dog appears, and is even more startled by the fact that his tail...was on fire?

Um, alright, she will just assume that this is a shifter Joss knows, because she cannot think of a single reason why anyone would want their pet dog running around an extra-dimensional bar with a pair of newly-awakened mages.

(Cat flinches when she does, and again half a second later.)

Joss grimaces apologetically, and throws an apology over her shoulder.

"Human form I think," she tells the dog, scratching him behind the ears.

There's a blurring around the dog, the sound of cracking bones, and then a young man, maybe a little younger than Joss, is stood there, honestly pouting. "But you whistled," he complains.

"Yeah, so that I wouldn't wake Dale up," Joss says, scritching the back of his neck, despite the fact that he is now taller than her. "Anyway. These are Michael and Isabella," she gestures to the siblings. "Michael, sense-check?" She has forgotten that he won't be aware of the shorthand that her and her flatmates had come up for one of them to know what she was feeling with her Other sense.

can hear him as well - aaah help he's cute - 

- is that Raven's thought or mine? I can't tell anymore -

"Uh, now I'm getting something from your friend as well. And he's definitely not pack, both he and I'd notice."

"Hm," Joss hums quietly. "What are you getting from him? Thoughts? Or just emotions?"

"Are you using me as part of an experiment, Joss?" Rex asks, poking Joss in the side. He doesn't sound upset, more teasing, and Joss is very obviously ticklish as she squirms away from his finger.

He manages to snare her in a hug, and inhales deeply. "You found shifters?" (Internally, he's busy thinking: Jeez, girl, you really are a magnet for the supernatural sometimes, aren't you?) He is as cheerful as he seems, if mildly confused as to why Joss' room is a bar currently, but he seems happy to take that in his stride.

Having sorted out the scents, he looks at the girl first. "Bird of some kind?" he asks. "Sorry, I'm not massively good at identifying birds." He looks to the boy. "You, on the other hand, are a jumble. I mean, strongest scent is cat, but, there's others there as well. A couple of canines, and a couple of birds." He pauses, and looks down at Joss. "I did the thing again, didn't I?" Back up at the siblings. "Sorry, I forget that some people aren't as comfortable with my sense of smell as most of my mates are." (He looks like a kicked puppy at that point, and manages to give the impression of a drooping tail without his tail actually being present.)

- awwww. 

"I'm a cat, yes. And Isabella's a raven," he confirms after checking with her. 

"Now you mention it...yes, I think it's just emotions," he says, not entirely certain. "From both of you, and from Rae. It's...I feel like it could easily get overwhelming? And I think it's a good thing we're the only people in this bar."

Rex seems to droop a bit further, looking worried. "Empaths often find it harder to shut their sense down than people with things closer to telepathy," he says. "Joss...!" It comes out as a distressed whine.

Joss scritches his neck again. "Needed to know what I was dealing with first."

She turns to Michael, not stepping too far away from Rex. "Okay. I have no idea if this is going to help you. I tend to anchor my sense to someone if it becomes too overwhelming. I pick either the calmest person, or the person I know best. I focus on what they feel like, get that to flood my sense. It's hard to explain, but it's like focusing on one thread of a piece of music and ignoring the rest." She rests her hand lightly on Rex's shoulder. "Rex here helped me block out a fallen angel with her grace blazing. And that is bright."

"Alright, I'll try it." 

The obvious person to focus on is Raven, who is perhaps not the calmest one in the bar - that would be Bar herself, followed by Joss - but definitely falls under 'person he knows best'. He focuses on his sister, drawing his awareness of her to the forefront of his mind until it blocks out Joss and Rex.

It's intimate, almost unbearably so - would be, with anyone else. The pack bond lets her catch a glimpse of what he's doing, sparking off a feedback loop of introspection that catches them both in its coils for several long seconds. He still can't read thoughts with his new sense, only emotions, but at this level of detail, with someone he's known since they were three, the difference is academic. 

He drops it, and the world comes back into view. 

"...I think," he says shakily, "I will have to find a different method."

"Damn," Joss murmurs, rubbing her hands over her face. "You could always try building walls. I hated that though, but...then again, I was used to using my sense automatically to check my surroundings for danger. It felt like I was cut off from everything."

"She got very flinchy, and stopped sleeping," Rex says, "and that was miserable for all of us."

Joss has reclaimed her barstool at this point, and Rex drops down to sit at her feet, leaning against her legs.

"You remember the conversation about seats don't you?"

He just looks up at her with plaintive eyes.

"If you're happier there, then."

aaaa why is he so distractingly cute - 

"Yes, I can see why that wouldn't work for you." He nods.

"A way to block out everything sounds better, for me; it's too...not loud, exactly, but that's close." 

With only three other people here, not counting Bar - who is most definitely a person even if she is very different from anything else he's experienced - it isn't too hard to keep track, but he can easily see it getting bad in larger crowds. He can't just avoid situations like that, either, not when they live in London. Blocking it out it is.

"Do you have any advice? It isn't your favoured method, but you have tried it, which is...more experience than I have."

Joss purses her lips, fingers rattling on the bar-top. "It's a lot of visualisation. Or it was for me. It's imagining something, I used walls, but I've heard of people using soldiers, between you and the sense you're trying to block out. And then making it real. Making it block it. I...think you can probably vary the level it works at? But...for me it was all or nothing. I was too flinchy to actually figure out the nuances of it."

Raven, off to one side, has asked Bar for a stack of books on the empathy side of Fire magic and is flicking through them looking for something that might help. 

"Yes, this recommends visualisation as well," she confirms. "It has examples of a brick wall, a fence, a bubble, or a blanket, for different levels of protection."

"I think I'll try the wall first," he decides. "It'll be the easiest to notice whether I've succeeded." 

Raven nods in approval. 

He closes his eyes, focusing inward again but this time on himself rather than Raven. Calling up a mental image of a wall - the walls of their house, why not - he imagines it forming a perimeter around his mind, blocking out everything but himself. 

All is suddenly, blessedly quiet. Even the pack bond is locked out - which, as soon as he notices, makes him lose concentration and drop the barrier. "I had it! Just for a moment, but I had it."

"That's great," Rex beams, and there a very definite impression of a wagging tail. "Took Joss nearly an hour to manage that the first time." He grins up at her for a moment before turning his attention back to Michael. "Now it's just practicing till it's second nature. I think. We don't really block people out." (The we seems to be distinct from him and Joss.)

He says something modest about having always been a quick learner, the sort of non-reply he can throw out without much conscious attention.

Rex's happiness is distracting; he seems to feel every emotion at least twice as intensely as anyone else. 

Wait, what was that?

"We? I didn't know you had anything like this..."

Rex looks up at Joss. "You didn't explain?" he asks, tilting his head at her.

"Of course not," Joss says. "Not mine to tell."

Rex leans slightly closer against her legs, looking back to Michael. "I'm a hellhound," he says. "I mean, the 'hell' is kind of irrelevant, but it comes from the fact that we tend to end up working for demons, again, kind of irrelevant. They picked their name up from somewhere, but they're not actually evil. Well, mostly. They're basically just humans. I don't understand why people feel the need to attribute good and evil to different species like it's an inherent trait."

Joss makes a quiet sound.

"Oh. Right. So. We basically have large packs? And you don't have secrets in your pack. And there's a connection there, and you don't block your family out? It's not common outside of our kind, and I can't tell you if it's the same in the shifter communities, but we're all hounds, and your family is a pack."

This is interesting to drag Raven back out of her books. 

"There hasn't been much research on shifter genetics," she says in a tone of annoyance, "and we're both adopted, so I can't tell you whether our families would be the same type of shifter as us. Nor anything about shifter culture in general, really," she adds.

"Is the 'hell' part of 'hellhound' related to the reason your tail was on fire earlier?"

"Oh. Yeah. Hellhound comes with a side of flaming tails and potential to breath fire," he bounces slightly in place. "I haven't mastered the breathing fire bit, and my flatmates won't let me practice," the last includes a pout that isn't entirely serious. "But given general descriptions of hell include eternal flames, that's probably where the name comes from. That and the fact that we're normally employed by demons. Again, not really related to hell."

"I think your world's magical and supernatural elements may have been designed, or at least classified, by someone who had a rather unhealthy obsession with Catholic invented beliefs," she comments, amused. 

"Do you know where hellhounds came from?"

Cat is attempting to practise shielding, and is mostly ignoring them.

"Our history is...kind of a mess? And mostly verbal? And...I didn't take as much interest as I should?" he looks a little sheepish. "There's also a lot of speculation that we're a branch of shifters who learned some form of magic that somehow became innate? A lot of stuff got lost because, well, the Catholic church took pretty severe exception to our existence. There's a reason we work for demons. Working together made it a lot easier to avoid and repel Hunters."

Raven nods solemnly.

"Much of the early history of shifters and mages, in our world, has been lost for similar reasons," she agrees. "Although I believe it was the Protestant church, rather than the Catholics, which especially persecuted magic."

She seems a little less focused on learning new information than she was with Joss earlier, and keeps sneaking distracted glances at Cat. 

Joss slightly sheepishly tugs on the medallion that she still hasn't been able to stop wearing. "Seems like a lot of churches are like that," she says. "All hellfire and damnation for anyone who doesn't fit with their view of how things should be. And a tendency to fail to advance with the times."

"I think I've got it," Cat says, opening his eyes cautiously.

"And did I hear something about religion? Do not get me - or Rae - started on Puritans. Or Catholics, really."

"We try not to discuss it in general," Rex says. "We all have very different views, I mean...we all believe in something. Hard not to all things considered..." He made a vague gesture over his shoulder. "But...none of us are exactly religious."

"Very, very lapsed for me," Joss admits. "And...gotta check, is this an honest 'don't get us started' or a 'we could do with ranting about this'?"

"No, we'd be here all day, and I don't want to insult your childhood religion even if you no longer follow it as such," Cat clarifies.

He frowns. "I think a few things are still slipping through? This is much better than it was, though. It still takes a lot of concentration to maintain, but I imagine that will get easier over time."

Rex pokes Joss in the knee before she can say anything. "Glad it's better," he says grinning. "I actually had a problem similar to Joss where when I moved up here for uni it was too quiet because the pack was so far away. And I was used to always hearing or feeling someone." He pauses, smile dimming slightly. "I hope it gets easier, it would suck to have to concentrate all the time just to be able to actually concentrate."

"I'm sure it will," Cat agrees. "Didn't you say Joss took hours to get as much as I managed in the first few minutes? It'll be habit within a week, especially if I can stay here and practise without needing to do anything else."

He considers. "It would be useful to have more people around, though, if I'm staying here. Otherwise I won't be sure it works on larger groups."

Rex straight up bounces. "That's good." He likes people being okay and happy.

He looks up at Joss.

"No," she says firmly. "Dale needs sleep, I am not bringing Nik or Mab here to try and seduce them, Des, Simon and Tam should be in class."

Rex droops slightly.

But by happy coincidence, this guy is walking into the main bar area, stretching and yawning like he just woke up. His hair seems to have defied a comb, if he bothered to run one through it in the first place.

Trailed by this guy.

And this woman.

"I did suggest you to go to bed earlier, sir. Bar, one coffee please."

Rex's happiness is strong enough, like all his other emotions, to leak through Cat's imperfect shields, eroding his concentration.

Then, the number of other people in the bar suddenly doubles, assaulting his barriers and sending them crashing down.

"...ow."

He drops his head onto his hands and squeezes his eyes shut. 

Rex looks immediately distressed, but tries to clamp down on his feelings.

Joss shifts to be between the newcomers and Michael.

"Is everything okay?" the woman asks, question strangely bland, almost mechanical.

The two men are watching, silently.

Oh hell they're all worried about him now and that's not helping - 

He calls up a memory of his father saying 'focus, Michael' and holds onto that, lets it block out everything else for a moment so he can think. 

Okay.

Two of the new people seem different, in the same way Bar is different, but not like Bar... One of them (the one who was speaking, he thinks?) is...less overwhelming than everything else. She's - not calmer, but - sort of the opposite of Rex: her emotions are muted where his are loud. That helps, makes it easier to imagine them going quieter still, muffled by thick cloth. He extends the same metaphor over her companions, the one who is like her and the one who seems more like Joss than anyone else in the bar. 

Joss and Rex are familiar enough now that he can pay less attention to them, and with Raven he hardly needs to try at all; she's part of the background noise of his life. Slowly, he regains the ability to think straight, and relaxes. 

Raven moved closer to Cat when the newcomers first arrived, knowing she can't do anything to help but driven to protect him anyway. She tries to remain calm, since panicking will only hurt her brother further. 

When he relaxes, she does as well. 

"The situation is under control," she tells the woman, with more confidence than she feels. 

The woman inclines her head, although there is a very slight narrowing of her eyes that seems to suggest that she's not sure she should believe that.

"Too many people?" Joss asks, almost too quietly for human ears.

But apparently not quite quietly enough. "Perhaps we should go back to our room, sir?" she suggests.

"After you dragged me out here, when there's- Not very many people here yet?" he seems to only just have noticed the other four. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you there. If this is a private meeting, I can totally drink my coffee in my room?"

He does indeed, appear to be the one of the three of them drinking the coffee that was ordered.

"Not a private meeting, no. My brother just manifested an empathic talent and is still learning how to control it," Raven explains. 

"Your arrival was unexpected enough that he dropped his shields and had to rebuild them."

"I think I'm alright now," Cat adds. "You should probably stay, actually; the sooner I can deal with large crowds the better." 

He is about to say something else, then stops and laughs.

"I don't know if it will mean anything to you if I say we live in London?"

"Well, last I checked, London was smaller than it used to be in our world, but I still imagine it isn't a nice place to be with an empathic ability," the man grimaces.

The other man looks curious now, leaning forward slightly. "How, precisely, does on go about manifesting an 'empathic talent'?"

"No, Prometheus," the woman says firmly.

"But it is likely fascinating!"

Air blurs, bone crunches, and Rex is back in hound form, facing the newcomers and growling at the man.

"Fascinating!" the man (Prometheus) repeats.

The other man looks like he wants his coffee cup to swallow him, and the woman has one hand on her forehead.

"Oh, I agree," Raven says.

"Unfortunately, this particular magic system seems only to work for those born in our world. And the shapeshifting is hereditary," she adds when she notices his interest in Rex.

Cat watches, trying to decide how he feels about the fact that Rex and Joss seem to have decided he needs protecting, and Rex is even acting like he's pack. 

Joss seems to notice Michael's train of thoughts. "We're kind of used to protecting our friends. It's... not about thinking you can't."

Rex doesn't like how the woman and the Fascinating-guy smell, it's too fake, too metallic.

"I doubt I would be able to learn even if that was not the case, I am more curious as to how it works."

"I'm sorry about him, he sometimes gets a bit carried away and forgets that some people don't like being treated like puzzles that need resolving."

(There's a slightly indignant 'Sir' from the him in question.)

"I am happy to explain the way our magic system works," Raven says, "although I should probably leave out most of the personal details." Cat nods.

"Everyone in our world - which I'm thinking of naming Quintessence, for reasons that will become apparent - has a different amount of something called essence, or magical energy. It restores itself over time if used, but a person can never have more than their maximum. Approximately one percent of the human population have enough essence to be useful: these are known as mages. I do not know the statistics for shapeshifters, as no studies have been carried out. The remainder barely have enough magic to notice, and only notice it at all if it is unlocked."

She gestures at Cat. "My brother and I decided to awaken our magic earlier today, which is accomplished through meditation and focus. Mine is below mage level and therefore not out of my control, but Michael is more powerful and is struggling to control his empathy."

"That sounds...awkward, and...complicated. 'Metheus, don't go too mad." He hunches over his mug, not defensively, just in a 'it's far too early for this' manner.

"Personal details are certainly not needed!" Prometheus assures. "And you say that there is a difference between people who are capable of magic and mages? How do you go about quantifying what is useful, and therefore a mage, and what is not? And shapeshifters are also a thing in your world? Fascinating."

"Empathy?" the woman asks, head tilting. "Well. I must say, if you are able to answer, exactly what you are picking up from myself and Prometheus? Unless it is not correct to ask, in which case, my apologies."

"If there is a protocol for questions one should and shouldn't ask an empath, I'm not aware of it," Cat says wryly. 

"I...can see that the two of you are different," he explains hesitantly, "but I still get an emotional reading from both of you. You less so than Prometheus, but I'm not sure if that's him or you." 

'I don't think you're human', he doesn't say, because he'd be nervous if someone did that to him. 

"It is probably a combination," she says, almost thoughtfully. "You may have guessed that we are not human. Prometheus was created after our creators had had some practice getting the software to accurately imitate human emotion. They-" She stops, in a way that suggests her stopping was not entirely voluntary, a clicking noise sounding from around her throat.

"What Epime is unable to say is that our parents talked it over with her and it was decided that she was already a distinct person and there was no way of knowing what altering her emotion processing capability would do to that. They all agreed that it wasn't a risk any of them wanted to take."

"You still haven't answered my question of how a mage is quantified," Prometheus cuts in, and there's an impression in his emotions that he would be pouting if his face was capable of such an expression.

"That...sounds like it was probably the more responsible decision," Cat agrees cautiously.

The most responsible would have been to not create sentient life until they knew what they were doing, but he doesn't say that because it implies Epimetheus shouldn't exist. Regardless of whether he thinks it true, it would be a horribly rude thing to mention. 

"It is not a simple question," Raven tells Prometheus, "and I would not be entirely confident of my answer without checking in one of these books."

She considers. "I will find the answer, and tell you," she offers, "if you explain to me how it can be that you were created by people, and not directly by any deity." 

"Well, our-" he stops, a metallic imitation of someone clicking their tongue echoing. "We are built from software? Computer based. I suppose humans imitating a deity they had lost faith in. Built with circuits instead of a vascular system and processors in place of a brain."

Joss snorts. "I may be wrong but I don't think they have context for that explanation."

"Oh dear. Where did I lose you? If indeed I did lose you?"

"It may be relevant to this discussion that I am from a world in which the year is 1849," Raven remarks. 

"Possibly I should request some additional reading material from this helpful bar, rather than oblige you to explain computers."

She does not make the prospect of more reading sound like a hardship.

Prometheus seems perfectly happy to launch into an explanation of computers anyway - suggesting a few books for further information if Isabella wishes to read further.

Epimetheus keeps Prometheus' explanation from getting too high level, adding in lower layers of context and information. (They sound like they have some experience explaining things to people who have no prior knowledge.)

Joss suggests a couple or books from her own world while they're at it.

Raven listens, fascinated, and scribbles down notes as fast as she can. She occasionally has to ask for clarification, but not often.

Cat listens at first, but gets distracted enough trying to follow the explanation that he drops his barriers again and has to take a break to rebuild them.

"Fascinating," Raven breathes when she begins to realise the implications. "I want one. Bar -"

Rex has flopped down at Michael's feet now that everyone seems to have decided to get along.

Prometheus smiles. "I would be delighted to provide you with a machine suitable to your needs. Never mind asking Bar for it." He seems honestly excited at the prospect. "I rather assume it would need to be in-keeping with your world's aesthetic, and for preference not obviously too advanced for the time."

"It would need a self-contained recharging power source, adaptors are a possibility but it would be better if it needed no external charging."

"Yes, yes, I was already working on that. Excuse me please."

With that, he heads back towards the rooms.

"Did you have to encourage him?" It's not entirely clear whether that is aimed at Isabella or Epimetheus, but it sounds more amused than irritated.

He sits and listens, absently petting Rex since he's right there.

"Any computer you give us should be disguised as something much lower-tech," he contributes without looking up, "or else we will not be able to keep it."

"Somehow I have the impression that Prometheus does not especially require encouragement," Raven says with feigned innocence. 

She nods reluctantly at Cat's words. "Much as I would enjoy bringing our world into the age of computer technology, I do not think it would be possible to do so without revealing Milliways."

Rex pants happily and his tail starts to wag.

Epimetheus looks at the pile of books around Isabella, then tilts her head, seeming slightly distant for a moment.

"I think, on balance," she says when she seems back, "that disguising it as a book would be the logical way to go about things. It seems to me that you would rarely be found far from a book. Is there any specifics we should consider for the jacketing so that people are less likely to suspect it?"

"Did you have Ada Lovelace?" Joss asks, asking Bar for information on her. "She was a Victorian, hailed as the first female computer scientist. Worked on Babbage's difference engine. No reason you can't..." she waves a hand vaguely. "Be the Ada Lovelace of your generation, world, only...with a little bit of a cheat?" She's teasing there, grinning.

Raven investigates. "She exists, and - lives in London! But she is a mage, not a computer scientist. Unsurprising, since I would expect to have heard about anyone accomplishing a project such as those in which she seems to have participated in other worlds."

"Makes sense. I don't really think there was much else interesting going on in the eighteen hundreds in our time? And, well, if she was supernatural, no-one knew about it."

"And to backtrack, no, 'Metheus really doesn't need encouragement. He does that even when he doesn't have a challenge."

"...And I forgot to introduce myself again, didn't I?" he sighs, before complaining, "Epime!"

Epimetheus just looks over at him impassively as if to say 'You're a grown adult'.

"'Sidora," he says, pointing at himself. "Pleasure to meet you all."

"Likewise," Raven says distractedly. "Cat, could you please secure me an invitation to meet Baroness Ada Byron?"

She begins writing something on a clean sheet of paper, in a more elegant hand than she has been using for notes.

Cat rolls his eyes, but borrows paper and pen of his own to draft a letter.

Joss stares for a moment. "...Uh. You- You're in a position where you can...just...acquire an invitation to meet a Baroness?" She looks a little bit shell-shocked. "Uh. I suddenly feel a little... inadequate. I am a through and through pleb."

"...Should I have been bowing or something? I was pretty bad at social protocols even when I knew I was meeting nobility?"

"Only minor nobility," Cat clarifies, "and that only by adoption. Don't worry about it."

To Raven, he says, "I think working through Father's Academy connections is the more worthwhile avenue, since Lady Byron seems to be a scholar."

He frowns. "Rae, do we care whether Father finds out about Milliways? He would probably like to know..."

"I...have no idea. I was assuming you would know; you do not usually trust my judgement above your own when it comes to secrets."

He rubs his temples, looking slightly pained.

"Normally, I would be in favour of telling Father immediately. But..."

He trails off, and sighs.

"I'm missing something. I don't know what. But it points in the direction of not telling him anything."

"But apparently a respected scholar?" Joss points out. "If she's working outside the Academy -- is she? -- I would suggest she'll be a better bet? Sometimes distance from something, even a commonly held belief, allows for a more rational stance on the possibility of that belief being incorrect when confronted with evidence." It sounds like she has personal experience with that.

"If it were me," 'Sidora says carefully, "I'd go with my gut. Even if you can't put your finger on it, there's normally a reason your instinct is to do something or not. People are more aware of things sometimes than they realise."

"Oh, I definitely plan to contact Lady Byron before anyone else," Cat clarifies.

"My question is over the best approach, and I think the advantage of calling on Father's standing in the Academy is outweighed by the disadvantage that he will certainly want to know what we are discussing."

He discards the letter and starts a new one. "I'll ask Nick for an introduction, instead. He'll listen if I tell him not to ask any questions."

Joss has gone back to her book, finger tracing the rim of her cup. (Rex, now he's sure Michael is thoroughly distracted from petting gives a displeased huff and goes and dumps his head in her lap.)

Prometheus chooses that moment ro reemerge into the main bar. His movements are very precise and steady, but he is smiling, and there is an impression that he would be bouncing if he was not trying to be dignified.

He sets what appears to be a leather and brass bound journal, with a brass clasp, on the bar-top near Isabella.

"I require the young lady's thumb print to finish," he declares.

Raven sets her book down and marks her place with quick, precise movements.

Grinning, and bouncing a little in her seat, she turns to Prometheus and holds out her thumb. 

He very gently presses her thumb against the brass clasp, which gives, just the tiniest amount. There is a nearly inaudible click as though a lock engaged, which repeats a second later as though the lock disengaged again.

"Access set," Prometheus said. "As of now, only you can open that lock. Well. I can, but that is because I built the coding for it. But apart from that, just you. You can designate other users-"

'Sidora laughs. "'Metheus, perhaps give her the basic use tutorial before skipping on to the admin stuff."

"My apologies. I was getting excited."

He opens the journal. At first glance, it looks like two blank pages. "So. If you press here-" he presses the upper right corner. "Everything boots up." The pages polarise to reveal a simple user interface and a keyboard. "Regrettably a touch screen keyboard for ease of concealment but also if you touch here..." He presses a button on the lower right hand corner of the keyboard screen, and the vast majority of the keyboard vanishes. "You can use a stylus to write by hand. The stylus is concealed in the hinge. It will take a little while to properly translate your writing to the correct letters, so I would advise not writing anything important until it is reading it correctly. Just in case."

He proceeds to give Isabella a full tutorial, show her where to find a tutorial on the journal-computer, and also how to give other people access should she so desire.

"You can set level of access, but I would advise not giving anyone else administrator rights."

Raven, as usual, listens carefully and takes detailed notes when she remembers. She starts tentatively fiddling with the computer, typing on the keyboard and flicking through the options in fascination.

Cat leans over to watch, but doesn't touch.

"I think I will share this with Cat, and no-one else," she decides, poking through the settings to authorise him for everything except admin rights. 

"Thank you, Prometheus," she says when Cat prods her to do so. "This is wonderful!" 

"You are welcome. I do enjoy building things. And I felt like you would appreciate this."

"I appreciate what you make, 'Metheus. I just don't appreciate being woken up two hours after I finally get to sleep."

"Sounds like someone I know," Joss says lightly, aiming a pointed look at Rex, who looks innocently back. "Although he normally wants scratches, or to go for a run." It's clear she doesn't actually mind this.

Cat is relaxed enough to chuckle at the byplay. 

"I used to be woken up at all hours because Rae just had to tell someone about the part she just read in some book," he contributes, with a fond look at Raven.

"That doesn't happen so much these days; I think she's learned the value of sleep."

"Or perhaps I learned that if I wanted a vaguely interesting conversation partner, I needed to wait for a time that you considered reasonable," she replies.

Honour thus defended, she returns to investigating the many functions of her new computer. 

"You would not think that I am older by nine months, would you?" she remarks to Joss. "He thinks of himself as the big brother, when he is in truth the youngest of us all."

Rex shifts back into human form, still leaning against Joss' legs. "In my defense, the few times I did that, I hadn't realised that you'd only got to sleep two hours before?" He pokes her knee. "You're normally up at five for runs either way. ...I am guilty of the waking up for scratches charge mind..."

"How many of you is there?" she asks, slapping Rex's finger away, playfully, but also almost absentmindedly.

'Sidora goes back to staring into his coffee, slightly morosely, now that the conversation appears to have turned to family.

Cat counts. "Me, Rae, Sam, Danny, and then Eliza's pack but not really a sister. So, four or five, depending on what you were asking," he concludes.

"Katherine lives with us as well but she's not a sibling. She's only just pack."

"Big families are good," Rex says, smiling widely. "Big packs are better. Stronger."

"Only child," Joss says, looking slightly wistful. "Fully adopted by at least three different large families now. Are all of you adopted? I mean, I know it doesn't change whether or not you're siblings, just, I remember Isabella saying something earlier about being adopted? And what's the differentiation between being siblings and being pack? I know the hellhounds don't really differentiate, if you're pack, you're family, and that's that?"

"Big families are good," Cat agrees.

"All of us are adopted or fostered, except Sam. As for the family or pack distinction... Father is family but not properly pack, because he's human, and Katherine's half-in the pack as well but without being family - she started living with us later. Eliza is family and pack, but she's not our sister because that's not the relationship she wants with us."

"Relationship is one word for it," Raven puts in archly. 

"Sounds complicated," Joss says with a slight grimace.

"Bit like you, Ex and Dale then," Rex teases, but his head tilts back till he's looking at the other three upside down.

"You guys okay over there?"

The two AGIs stay silent.

'Sidora sighs. "We're...okay. Just...we lost two of our siblings. And our parents. It's...hard to talk about family sometime. But that doesn't mean you guys shouldn't do it. Just means we're going to be a bit silent."

Epime rests her hand gently on his back.

Cat has been deliberately ignoring 'Sidora and his probably-siblings for the last few minutes, as the topic of family seems to have set off a lot of emotions in all three of them. Epimetheus is still the easiest to block out, but that's not saying much any more. He can manage it, but only if he doesn't interact with them at all. 

Now that Rex has brought his attention back in that direction, he winces slightly as his grasp of his shields slips. 

"Or...shit, empath. We can go if you want?" he points a thumb over his shoulder.

(Simultaneously, the emotional feed from both Prometheus and Epimetheus drops considerably, as though they just switched their emotions off.)

Joss gives them a suspicious look, but doesn't actually say anything.

He heaves a sigh of relief when the pressure from Epimetheus and Prometheus drops considerably.

After a moment, though, he processes the implications. It's unlikely that they figured out how to shield their emotions that fast, so they must have decided to - turn them off, not feel them -

"You, you don't need to not feel things!" he tells them, sounding quite passionate about it.

"I can handle it, or I'll go outside for a while if not."

Prometheus' emotions return, although to a slightly lower level than previous. Epimetheus' do not, in fact, change.

"Apologies," Prometheus says with a very slight head dip. "We felt that, given the topic, and our emotions on the matter, it might be the most expedient thing to do. I also cannot say that I do not occasionally switch my emotions off when considering the other AGIs. It is...not a pleasant topic. And besides that, I dislike distressing people I am on amicable terms with."

"AGI or not, switching your emotions off is kinda creepy," Joss comments. "Although I can't say I wouldn't give my right arm for that ability sometimes."

"Well - "

He puts his head in his hands.

After a second or two, he says, carefully, "You are distressing me more by switching off your emotions than by feeling them."

And waits for their response.

"Apologies," Epimetheus tilts her head, and her emotions shift back onto a probably readable level. "Regrettably an automatic response to distress."

She does not specify whose distress it is an automatic response to.

"And you accuse me of unhealthy coping mechanisms," 'Sidora rolls his eyes, but somewhere in there, there's a sadness.

In the background, Prometheus' emotions kick up a slight notch, but are still somewhat muted.

Cat, paradoxically, relaxes at the increased pressure on his shields, especially when they bend, but do not break, beneath the added weight. 

Something about the way they did that - for him, because of him - feels deeply unsettling, and he pushes it to the back of his mind to examine later when he isn't dealing with six other people's emotions on top of his own. 

Out loud, he says, "Perhaps we should change the subject to something less fraught?"

And pauses to let someone else suggest a potential topic.

"Terribly mild weather we've been having lately, isn't it?" Joss says with a smirk.

Rex bursts out laughing.

"Gods, anything but the weather!" 'Sidora chuckles. "I think we got completely side-tracked from a question about how it was decided someone was a mage?"

"Did we?"

Either Cat wasn't paying much attention to the conversation at that point, or it was a while back. 

"I haven't a clue, not bei - well, not having been a mage before today. Rae?" he prompts.

Raven looks up from her reading. 

"Oh! I read that just a minute ago," she says, sounding pleased.

"I remember Prometheus asked me to find out for him. It's buried under a mountain of technical language," she continues, "but the gist seems to be that there was once some specific test which prospective mages had to pass, requiring a minimum level of essence to complete. This was before they worked out how to test a person's essence levels directly with magesight, which is the method used now.

"The consensus seems to be that the cutoff marks the point at which it is both pointless to teach someone magic, because they will never be able to do anything properly useful with it, and also at which it can be counted on - to the tune of million-to-one odds - that their magic will not release itself by accident."

"But isn't how useful something is subjective?" Joss asks, leaning back slightly. "For some people, being able to vaguely warm their fingers is useful, for others they need to start whole fires. Although setting your hair on fire is probably something you want to avoid..."

"Well yes, but equally, if there are resources required to train a mage, and these resources were at some point lacking, it is altogether possible that people required a power level high enough to benefit society as a whole?"

Epimetheus makes a quiet noise, and Prometheus immediately looks over at Isabella and Michael.

"I certainly do not agree with this method, it is simply a suggestion for how things might have been."

"And it is probably a good idea to find people before their magic does something..." 'Sidora waves a hand vaguely. "Y'know, dangerous. For them and the people around them."

Raven nods.

"I agree that the considerations regarding accidental magic are relevant - and you may have a point about resource limitations. Apparently there is serious competition for places at the London Academy, and they do not have enough teachers to expand further."

"That sounds like you need to seriously overhaul that," 'Sidora frowns. "I mean, how do you qualify to be a teacher? Is there a reason they're in such short supply? Or is that something that is, in theory, fixable? Because it sounds like it needs fixed. Sooner rather than later. Because everyone who's capable of something should have the opportunity to be taught it if they want? And some competition is good, it drives people to be the best, but too much competition can stifle growth..."

"It's not the only school of magic in the world," Cat clarifies.

"Not even in the country. It's just widely agreed to be the best. Is there no competition for the best schools in your world?"

He runs his fingers through his hair, looking a little tired. Keeping his shields up is a constant drain of mental energy, but he doesn't want to give up too soon or he might never be able to walk through a crowd again without getting a headache. 

"That does make more sense..." 'Sidora agrees looking a little sheepish. "I suppose I should have expected that. It doesn't make sense for you to have just one magic school. And if you did, I- Well, I did have some pretty serious questions about the wisdom of only having one school."

"Oh, don't get me started on competition for universities, and some of them the only reason there's so much competition is that it's a certain name! Or...at least...that's how it seems?"

She frowns at Michael slightly. "You should possibly take a break if it's starting to get tiring, Michael?"

"...Possibly," Cat agrees.

"Bar, is there somewhere quieter I can go?"

He is informed that there are rooms available, and puts down a deposit on a room to which he and Raven can retire when necessary so they don't have to risk losing the door. He sends the room number to Raven privately.

"I think I'll go upstairs for a little while, and give myself a break. I'll be back soon," he assures Raven, and heads for the stairs. 

"You could have borrowed our room," 'Sidora notes. "We're not exactly using it right now."

"I dunno, I don't think you could drag Isabella outta here right now," Joss says with a slight smile. "I suspect they'll be here for a while, and at that point it makes more sense for them to have their own room."

"Thank you for the offer," Cat throws over his shoulder as he stops at the base of the stairs, "but I can't relax properly in someone else's space. And, yes, it looks like Rae's going to be here at least a week."

"A month!" she sings out from her seat at the bar. 

He gives 'Sidora a 'siblings: what can you do?' look, and leaves. 

A minute or so later, the main door opens. The other side of the door seems to be little more than three feet high, and the person who steps through is even smaller, only a little over two feet. 

Those still in the bar area see what appears to be a small boy, with brown skin and dark curly hair. He blinks in confusion at the bar.

'Sidora laughs, and nudges his shoulder into Epime's, smiling fondly. (She shakes her head and wraps an arm around his shoulders.)

Rex, meanwhile, has shifted back into hound form, and is lying at Joss' feet, panting contentedly.

When the door opens, he gives a quiet bark, and immediately goes to investigate. He looks slightly down at the small male in front of him, and pokes his nose forward to nudge at him. (He forgets to quell the flame on his tail.)

"Rex!" Joss calls after him, half-falling off her barstool as she goes to follow.

This is not the pantry and it should not contain a dog taller than he is, with--

--is its tail on fire? He squints at the dog. It seems pretty happy, and dogs are usually obvious about their emotions. Maybe it's magical fire. 

"Hello," he says in a talking-to-dogs voice, reaching up to pet Rex tentatively. "What are you doing here?"

Rex pants happily, wagging his tail, and very gently butting his head into the hand. He drops down so that he's shorter than the new friend (this person is very small).

"Intruding in other people's spaces apparently," Joss says as she catches up. "I hope he isn't bothering you?" She shoots Rex a slight glare. "Put your tail out before you set fire to something."

Rex looks back as though to confirm his tail is indeed on fire, he looks briefly startled, and the flame flickers and dies.

Oh, good. "Uh, it's alright," he says, scritching Rex under the chin. "I like dogs. It's just that I was expecting this to be the pantry."

He thinks for a moment, looking around, and peering back through the door he's still propping open with one bare foot.

"I think my sister might have been messing around with Mother's spellbooks. Oh! I'm Mikala, by the way," he adds. Now what are the formal words? "Mikala Hale Parata, at your service."

He smiles up at the very tall lady who apparently owns the very big dog. Something about that smile might look familiar, although this version is leaning more on childish cuteness. 

"Joss," Joss responds with a smile, crouching down and running her own hand along Rex's back. "This big oaf is Rex. And he could do with remembering that not everyone does like dogs."

That smile is familiar, and Joss' gut is going off but she can't identify why exactly. As for the other comment...

"Oh. No. I got here through my bedroom door. I think Isabella came through what should've been her library door, and... I don't actually know where the others came here from. But apparently no magic of our own variety is required."

Rex gives a low, guttural attempt at a purr (which is mostly a growl that manages to be more cute than intimidating), closing his eyes contentedly. Mikala gives good scritches.

Yes he does.

"So, the door is magic?" he asks. "I should get Io in here, she'd know what questions to ask."

He makes to go back through the door. This means he has to stop petting Rex. 

Rex makes a low, slightly displeased sound, and starts to his feet to follow, getting as far as the door before Joss wraps herself around his neck - their shoulders are bracing it open though.

"Probably should've warned you about the perils of petting this one," she says with a slight grin. "He does occasionally get very attached to people willing to spare him strokes."

He laughs, and runs his fingers through the fur on Rex's neck with the hand not holding the door. 

"I can probably just call her from here..."

Sticking out his foot again so the door won't hit him in the back, he turns towards his house - keeping one hand on Rex - and shouts.

"Io! I found a magic thing!"

Rex is making pleased noises and is now wagging his tail hard enough that his entire body is moving with it. (Joss is laughing slightly at that, and settles back on her haunches, scritching at Rex's back.)

A brown-skinned girl, several inches taller than Mikala and looking maybe a year or so older - although it's hard to tell when they're half the size of human children their apparent age - appears round a corner a few seconds after her name is called, beaming like the sun. 

"You did!" she exclaims, crowding up next to her brother to peer through into the magically-appearing bar.

"What have you got already--"

He starts explaining what he's found out so far, smiling fondly.

As he talks, Mikala shifts around Rex so he doesn't have to crane his neck to see the rest of the room. Having achieved this, and caught Iolana up to speed, he finally notices that Joss and Rex aren't the only ones in the bar. Deciding to leave Raven alone, since she looks busy reading, he bounces up to 'Sidora and his siblings instead.

"Hi!"

Rex's first instinct is to strain towards the new female, but follows Mikala when he moves.

Joss shakes her head and rolls her eyes, nodding to the new girl. "Joss," she introduces herself, turning to follow Rex and Mikala back towards the bar.

'Sidora looks down at the small male, "uh, hi?" he greets, a little confused.

"Hello," Prometheus says enthusiastically. "Is it impolite to inquire as to your...hm. Race? Is that the correct term? I am unsure. I apologise if I have offended."

(Epimetheus shakes her head slightly, in apparent resignation.)

"I don't think it's impolite, if you've never seen one of us before?" Mikala reassures Prometheus.

"I can tell you're not trying to be rude,and that's the important part. Iolana and I are motu. It means 'islanders' in our language, but everyone says motu not islanders," he explains. "Um...Io would know how to explain it better, but..we're half the height of humans at the same stage of growth - everyone here looks human, are you human? - and we grow slower, so I won't be adult height until I'm about twenty-eight! And then I'll be about as tall as a four- or five-year-old human."

"Fascinating," Prometheus says. "We get to meet so many fascinating people coming through here." He considers the question, looking over at his siblings. Epime is watching him, something robotic about her facial expressions. "Myself and Epimetheus are certainly modelled after humans yes, Anesidora is human."

"I continue to be the most boring person in this bar," 'Sidora says with a self-depreciating grin.

Meanwhile, Iolana, having introduced herself laconically to Joss and finished squinting out the window at the supernovas, wanders over to the bar and asks Raven what she's reading. 

"Wow," she says when Raven explains. "That doesn't sound like any of the types of magic I know about."

That gets Raven's attention. She sets her book aside, marking her place with a napkin out of pure muscle memory. 

"Your world has more than one type of magic? Tell me about all of them!"

If no-one interrupts them, they'll be nerding at each other for a while. 

Mikala looks steadily between 'Sidora and his siblings, trying to spot differences. 

After staring at Prometheus for a while, then at Epime, he takes a guess. He noticed that they don't seem to blink, and Epime isn't breathing either. 

"Um, are you constructs or undead? Or something else?"

Joss chuckles quietly at Iolana and Isabella and returns to her own book, listening in to the conversation, but not really contributing.

"Construct is probably the most accurate description," Epimetheus muses. "We are certainly not undead."

"They're AGIs," 'Sidora says when Epime doesn't seem like she's going to continue. "Artificial general intelligences, created by our parents on our computer technology. We built the chassis so they could...interact with the external world and also so that it was...easier for people to connect with them." His smile turns bitter. "Fat lotta good that did." It's not entirely clear if he meant the last to be over heard.

"So...constructs, like Warforged, but better," he decides. 

"And made with 'computer technology', not wizardry. Is that a type of magic?"

There, that last question should divert the conversation away from talking directly about Epime and Prometheus. He's pretty sure they won't want to talk too much about that. 

"Warforged?" Prometheus questions immediately.

"I suppose from a certain perspective, yes," 'Sidora agrees, half speaking over 'Metheus. "What's that quote? 'Any sufficiently advanced technology will appear like magic to the less technologically advanced'? Something like that. I mean, I suppose it could be? But I mostly know it as...well. Like. Epime!" the last is a whine as he fails to find words.

"You would have made a dreadful lecturer," Epimetheus notes clinically, before providing a short, but accurate description of computer technology - from the construction of the computers, to the software that allowed interaction.

He attempts to follow the explanation, but gives up pretty quickly in favour of watching Iolana enthusiastically explain wizardry to an equally excited Raven. 

"Oh, right - Warforged are the only type of constructs who are people. They're called that because they were invented in the Crusades, to be soldiers."

He sounds distracted, and doesn't turn to look at Prometheus while he answers the question. 

Rex nudges at his hand, letting out a tiny whine.

Epimetheus falls silent when she realises she's lost Mikala, and instead tunes into Iolana and Isabella's discussion.

"So you can only cast three spells each day, no matter how you space them? If one day you cast no - "

" - it doesn't give any more the next day, I tried that."

"When does it - "

"I stayed up all night, once, it only renews when you sleep."

"...of course it does." Raven feigns exasperation, but she's fascinated. Finally, someone who can answer her questions! Every experiment she thinks to try with wizardry, Iolana has already tried; every question she comes up with, Iolana asked her tutors years ago. She's a little disappointed she can't return the favour - yet. 

Mikala looks away for just a second, and starts petting Rex again.

He goes back to watching the information exchange, eyes flicking curiously between Raven and his sister. 

Rex makes a pleased sound and his tail continues to beat a steady pattern on the floor.

"Does no-one else want more information on these Warforged? They sound fascinating. If somewhat worrying? Crusades imply religious wars. Which are almost entirely too messy."

(This pronouncement garners him a groaned: "'Metheus." from Anesidora, and Epimetheus pinching the bridge of her nose with slightly too much pressure.)

Joss gives a low chuckle. "I'm slightly more curious as to the similarities between our friends here." She gestures to Isabella and Iolana. "My gut- my ability is reading weird with them. And Mikala to a degree. Can't figure out why."

Mikala grins at her. "You noticed it too? I thought I was imagining things."

He gestures in the direction of the two girls with the hand not petting Rex. "They think the same way about things. It's like they're reading each other's minds."

Does he sound a little jealous?

"It doesn't feel like telepathy," Joss says thoughtfully. "Although I suppose you only said 'like they're reading each other's minds'."

She looks over at him. "You remind me of Isabella's brother now that I think about it. But...hard to say if it would be the same without getting you in the same room and he's resting at the moment."

'Sidora looks thoughtful for a moment. "Y'know," he says thoughtfully. "We do have someone who can probably answer these questions without us speculating wildly?" He turns and touches his fingers to his forehead in a respectful salute. "Bar, would you mind explaining the similarities between our young friends? Is it simply coincidence or is there something else at play there?"

An explanatory napkin appears. Bar thoughtfully provides Raven and Iolana with a copy each, as well as 'Sidora, so they don't have to wait for the others to finish reading.

It is a known phenomenon that sometimes, people will appear in Milliways who appear to be alternate universe versions of each other, or 'alts' for short. Some patrons have theorized that someone's alt is simply the person they would be if born in that world. Isabella and Iolana are alts, as are Michael and Mikala.

"Huh," Raven and her alt say in unison.

They look at each other, then Raven heads upstairs to fetch Cat while Iolana starts peppering Bar with questions.

"How do you tell? Can you teach us? Have any other alts of us been here before?"

As an afterthought, Iolana hands her napkin to Mikala, who takes a little longer to read it and then starts grinning widely.

"Fascin-" Prometheus starts as Epimetheus reads over 'Sidora's shoulder.

"Please stop with that word," Joss says. "I'm starting to think it isn't a real world and that's really perturbing." She accepts the napkin as 'Sidora hands it over to her and skims it-

"Oh. That is fascinating. And kinda disturbing. I mean, there is supposedly that idea that there is an infinite number of universes holding an infinite number of possible versions but... I am not a physics student for a very good reason." She tilts her head at Isabella and Iolana. "How does it feel meeting each other?"

Iolana answers, since Raven is already halfway to the stairs.

Grinning in a way that makes it obvious she's only her species' equivalent of eleven, she replies, "Fascinating." 

(Mikala giggles.) 

"Blood and bone, it's infectious!" Joss declares, managing a straight, almost concerned for face for a grand total of five seconds before giggling.

(Rex, at this point, abandons Mikala to pad over to Joss and first jump up to stick his nose in her neck, which has her giggling more, and swatting him away half-heartedly, which makes him sit back on his haunches.)

And is abruptly no longer a dog, but a six-foot-something guy built like a rugby forward, who still looks mildly puppy-ish with his smile as he sits cross-legged on the floor and looks up at Joss. He holds out his hand and accepts the napkin she hands down.

"Huh. Wonder what you'd be like from other worlds," he reaches up to poke her side. "Wonder what I'd be like."

Iolana doesn't even notice, having gone back to throwing questions at Bar as fast as the latter can spit back variously satisfying answers. 

Mikala blinks. 

"--wha?" 

Rex looks apologetic. "Sorry. I- Hellhound? I think we classed it as shapeshifter derivative?" He seems to shrink slightly in on himself - obviously trying to make himself less intimidating.

Joss runs her fingers through over his head, and he leans into the touch. "He really is just an oversized puppy even in this form. He also forgets that he's just over doubled in size and mass. Don't ask about that. I write it up to 'the supernatural likes flouting the laws of biology'."

'Sidora chokes on his coffee, clears his throat and chuckles. "Warn a guy before saying things like that!"

Mikala joins in the laughter, relaxing again. 

"I don't think we have hellhounds in our world. Maybe I just haven't heard of them, though."

"If I heard the word without the multiversal context, I'd assume they were a human religious thing, from the word 'hell'," Iolana contributes.

"I'm pretty sure it's only human religion that has one of those."

Cat and Raven come down the stairs in time to hear that last comment.

"Yes, you're definitely an 'alt' of my sister," Cat says, blinking at Io. "Your minds work the same way."

He looks at Mikala, and just stares for a while.

"And...you're me, apparently. That one's harder to tell."

"I think we also explained that there's a few different creatures in our world that took their names from human religion and then just got attached to the name," Rex says, brightening. "Besides, I do get a side of flaming tail, and some of us can breath fire. I haven't figured that one out yet..."

"We're still working on him not setting the furniture on fire accidentally," Joss teases. Rex sticks his tongue out at her.

"Hm. I suspect that is an observational thing? You observe your sister more than you observe yourself. It is easier to see the similarities and connections between other people rather than yourself and others."

"I think it's more that I'm not used to seeing myself from the outside, actually," Cat muses. "But you might have a point." 

He squints at Mikala. "How old are you?"

"...fifteen? Why, how old are you?"

Getting sick of craning his neck to look up at Cat, who's more than twice his height, Mikala clambers up onto a barstool and sits on it. Cat finds a chair that puts them roughly even. 

"We're both seventeen, like Io," Raven puts in.

"Except apparently motu age differently, so fifteen and seventeen for them are the equivalent of ten and eleven for humans." 

Mystery cleared up, she goes back to comparing magic systems with her alt. 

"Well, I rather think we've lost them for...however long," Joss says, shaking her head almost fondly. (And there's a wistful look in her eyes there, wanting to have someone that easy to connect to.)

"I'm still curious about these 'Warforged'," Prometheus says again. "If you have any more information on them, Mikala?"

"Uh, okay." The Michaels look at each other and nod, having reached the same conclusion: Prometheus isn't going to leave this alone until he feels like he's got a proper answer. 

"Warforged were invented in the last Seredina Crusade, which was..." He counts on his fingers. "About three hundred years ago? Before that there weren't any constructs that were people and could think, just ones that would do what you told them to do. They were made to be soldiers and fight the undead, but after they won the war they needed something to do, so they started fighting in other wars or just doing normal jobs."

"Wait a second. Someone made people, specifically to fight in a war?" Cat asks.

His grip on his shields falters slightly, just for a second, before he flinches and slams them back up, rubbing his head. 

"Did they have to fight, or did they just want to?" 

"I'm not sure. I think they had to do what he told them?" 

He asks Bar for a book about warforged history; she provides.

Apparently the first warforged were bound to obey the orders of their creator, and not to harm any living person, or another warforged (the former was pretty quickly relaxed to allow self-defense). They had orders to follow the chain of command in the army, and to destroy undead. After the war they started being re-programmed so they could be used for wars against other nations. 

Over the last century or two, more and more warforged have been starting to live as ordinary free citizens. There's an ongoing campaign to release the warforged from their programming entirely, so they don't have to obey anyone, and recognize them as legally free members of society since that's what most of them are in practice. 

As they read, Cat's expression becomes increasingly murderous. 

Pretty soon he has to stop reading so he can lean on the bar, close his eyes, and get first his emotions, then his empathy, back under control.

"That's..."

Epime and 'Metheus have both shut off their emotional feeds, and are very still.

"Just. Why would anyone think that was a good idea?! I mean. Our parents had military funding. But we weren't solely for war! And they fought to make sure the military treated Epime and- and 'Metheus well."

"It does seem bad." Joss agrees. "How is that campaign going? It sounds important."

"It has the official support of several countries now," Mikala reports. "Including Fallon, where the current owner of the rights to all the warforged lives."

He frowns at the page. "But there are still some countries pushing against it, and the Kadarin Church is on their side."

Prometheus doesn't say anything, he just pushes himself to his feet, and walks very carefully out of the doors to the outside.

"Should one of us maybe go talk to him?" 'Sidora mutters to Epime who shakes her head and taps the side of it.

"Wild guess, but I'm assumin' the church takes issue with someone other than 'god' creating life?"

"I don't know," Mikala admits. "It's not my religion." 

He turns back to the book, skimming it to see if it contains any clues. "It doesn't say why the church object, just that they do."

Glancing after Prometheus, he frowns and asks, "Should we stop talking about this? It just seems to be making everyone mad."

"Probably a good idea," Joss agrees, scrubbing her hands over her face. "And here I thought the universe was telling me I was working too hard."

She looks over at 'Sidora and Epimetheus. "Will Prometheus be alright?"

"He'll be fine," 'Sidora says. "He just needs a moment."

(Epime nods her agreement to that statement.)

"Alright, new topic! ...Um. I'm dreadful at small-talk. Known for it in fact."

"Um..." 

Mikala tries to think of something. He's the one who made everyone sad, so it feels like his responsibility to distract them.

"Oh, uh, your world doesn't have motu, right? Does it have any other species, apart from humans and...AGIs?"

"Certainly nothing more akin to a sapient person than an animal," Epimetheus says, almost thoughtfully. "And given Prometheus' tendency to hack into any encrypted systems, it seems somewhat unlikely that he would not have found some reference to anything had it been discovered."

"Ooh, we do," Rex says, bouncing slightly. "I mean, you might have figured that from me being a hound and then not. We've also got a load of different...well, they call themselves demons. Angels. There's vampires, shifters, mediums, witches are generally humans who learned a skill. There's others, I'm forgetting others."

Oh, good, a nice long list with not much overlap. This should keep them occupied for a while.

"What's a medium?" he asks, looking at both Rex and Joss. 

Raven and Iolana lean over to listen to the answer. 

"Mediums can talk with the dead," Rex explains. "Like. A lot of the supernatural can interact with them, but not like mediums can. They can talk to ghosts who've already passed over and then come back, for whatever reason. And like... Joss?"

"They feel kinda weird to me," Joss adds thoughtfully. "And a lot of them are...kinda out of it? They've spent so much time talking to the dead, that they start losing touch with the living. Stop remembering things like walls are a problem if you're corporeal."

"Cool," Mikala decides.

"Do they look different to other people, or do you just have to notice them walking into things?" 

Joss pats Rex's head. "Well aside from puppy like behaviour, Rex here is pretty human to look at when he's not shifted. Most supernaturals can do something similar and mediums are more humans with supernatural extras than supernaturals who masquerade as humans."

She hums. "On the other hand Rex says that to not supernaturals mediums kinda...glow?"

"Glow is not the right word. Your eyes don't see the right spectrum to pick it up. Dogs and cats probably see it as well."

"I wonder if Cat could see the glow if he shifted," Raven says. 

"Are there any mediums you could fetch to test it?" 

"Rae, I'm sure most mediums have better things to do than visit a bar so they can be stared at by a friend of a friend of a friend," Cat points out.

He seems to have recovered; it helps that the conversation has shifted topics. 

"We also don't live with any," Joss comments. "And I have no idea if Mab's mate is anywhere nearby. Think he's...on a field trip? Somewhere? Like...Spain? Wait. No. Texas. Fucking geologists."

"Mab's got a pot going on whether he's going to try and walk through a rock formation to get a better look at the inside."

Cat laughs.

"I know people who'd do that," he comments. "And they don't even have the excuse of spending all their time with ghosts." 

"Me too! I wonder if we know the same people..." 

They start describing the people they know to each other, focusing on personality and interests rather than appearance. Cat quickly gets frustrated with the limitations of spoken language and they switch to using telepathy instead. 

Raven and Iolana share a smile as they watch their brothers happily comparing notes on their acquaintances. 

"I think we may have lost them," Raven says to the rest of the group, not looking at all sorry about this turn of events. "Joss, Rex, you were telling us about the nonhumans in your world? I can't quite remember the whole list..." 

"My list was incomplete anyway," Rex shrugs.

"I think I'd covered vampires and shifters, but can recap if you want, Iolana?"

"I have Raven's notes," Io says, waving them.

"Alts are so convenient! Can you tell us about angels next?"

"Angels are gooood."

Joss laughs, and flicks Rex's ear. "Angels are... mmm. They're not 'responsible' for the living, although some would tell you they are. But part of their job is looking after humans to a degree. Those stories you hear about mothers finding the strength to lift cars off their infants? I can guarantee that at least ninety percent of the mundane cases have an angel stood using their grace to help. The older ones are more powerful. Jez is one of the originals. She's...I'll call her bright. If she's not keeping her grace under control. There's variation, but as standard, they can do physical healing, mental healing, they lean towards being better at diplomacy than other people. As far as I'm aware all of them can sense how someone is. They can find it difficult to...not heal them. And from what I've been told, some of them outside of Jez and the other so called 'fallen' angels don't bother asking permission."

Raven seems to be the one responsible for taking notes, at least right now. 

"Is that a problem?" she wonders. "One would think most people would be glad to be healed." 

"They might have different ideas about what needs healing," Iolana says. 

"I know there are things motu don't heal but other cultures do, and the same the other way around." 

"Partially that, partially I kinda want to know if someone is messing around with my body. My complaint isn't that they're healing people, it's the fact they're assuming that someone does want to be healed. Some people don't, like me, like someone who knows they're nearing the end of their life, healing or no. My grandpa would've been so pissed off if someone had saved him when he was in the hospital, just for him to die not that much later. The fallen angels will frequently find a guise to approach those who don't know of their existence and find ways to ask if they would like to be healed. It's common courtesy to ask before you do something like that."