The luxury skyliner Queen Titania was a marvel of Formulization and engineering, a brass juggernaut of an airship that had all the amenities one needed to enjoy a thirty-day trip around the world. Gorgeous greenhouses full of exotic flora and avians served as wonderful areas to enjoy fresh fruit and well-brewed teas. Indoor sports gyms bedecked with equipment for all games of athleticism made friends and rivals out of the growing number of erudite youths who entered the ship at each stop on its global tour. Even the library, though it paled in comparison to Alexandra’s vastness, was a soothing marvel, all mahogany and leather as crystal players resonated classic music at astounding clarity. And even the dining rooms, both private and public, looked to be places that one ought only to go when dressed to the nines, the on-board chefs managing to delight with their crosscultural culinary creations every evening. There were no shortage of distractions onboard the Queen Titania, no shortage of entertainments and pleasures to partake for the two thousand prodigies within its spacious bowels.

But today was the thirtieth day, and the clear skies encouraged all to crowd around the concave windows of the foremost atrium to witness the one thing that the Queen Titania could not offer:

The Academic City of Bermuda, an artificial island on the equator made of brass and steel, its many towers jutting out as if to scrape at the underbelly of the airship.

Fifty years has passed since a tenuous truce rose from the ashes of the Futile War, and the crystallization of that peace now stood below the two thousand students. It was a lasting symbol of peace and cooperation, a cloistered space away that served as a neutral ground, where no individual government could profess power and where the youths who would shape the future of the world could learn to build a unified future.

But you were different.

For you were here for a specific purpose, a purpose determined by the government agency, by the secret society, that sponsored your admission to this prestigious academy. Through subterfuge and subversion, your goals will be accomplished with all the sophistication of an expert spy, all while you maintain the disguise of just another erudite student.

Those naïve fools, those sheltered academics, none would be any the wiser as you execute your schemes and machinations with precision and tact.

…

What you didn’t know, however, was that every other freshman aboard was also a spy.

The day went by in the blink of an eye. With two thousand new students arriving at the same time, a hundred different tour groups were organized and sent off within the hour as the trained employees of the Academic City of Bermuda ensured that every one of their new charges knew exactly what sort of facilities were available. The student registration and identity-crosschecking, as well as the handing of the ID cards themselves, had already been settled prior to the arrival of the airship, and while some students took creative liberties with their photographs, they were all now able to lawfully enter the heart of the Academic City: the grand laboratories, libraries, and workspaces, every area administered not by professors who would be lecturing them, but rather custodians who would assist when requested and restrict when necessary.

These were children, perhaps, but they were also two thousand of the smartest youths in the world.

Expanding out from the academic center of the city, which was cordoned off by grand, ostentatious walls, was the artificial civilization that had been set up the children. From coffee shops, to theaters, to parks and pools, to tailors and bathhouses, mundane pleasures could be found everywhere, streets paved smooth to make wheeled travel as comfortable as possible. The more astute amongst the students would’ve noticed the gradual shift in architecture as they circled around the city, each continent’s aesthetics reflected in the buildings that passed by. Bridges and canals created a pleasant break from man-forged materials, and most importantly, both the northern and eastern sides of the island featured a sandy, white coast. Artificial as such landscaping may have been, there was still something instinctually exciting about having beach access in such a tropical location. Of note too, were the skyscraping airship docks that jutted out from the western portion of Bermuda, where large warehouses were set up, storing the precious imports that maintained the sense of a functioning city.

Dormitories were established around the city as well, fanciful apartments that students had been automatically assigned to, that their luggage had already been transported into. Equipped with the whole package of bedrooms, living rooms, bath rooms, kitchens, and of course, walk-in closets, such accommodations struck a balance between undeniably luxurious for the less affluent and sorta disappointing for the most affluent. Despite having the freedom to swap rooms with other students, however, every tour group was nevertheless reminded that curfew existed still: past 10PM, all buildings would be locked down.

Answers to questions about this were vague and unconvincing, citing only that heavy fog rolled in during the night, making it near impossible to navigate after a certain point.

The tour guides pointed out the second set of walls that blocked off the southern peninsula of the artificial island. That was where the adult population of Bermuda slept in. A small price to pay to be employed in the most prestigious city in the world, after all. Beyond that, however, the outskirts of the city transformed into pleasant, controlled, nature. A calming retreat from the world of Formulization that every student would be engaged in, no doubt. And as gradually as the sun set, the tours ended, congregating upon a massive opera hall, designed in gothic Occidental style.

The Hall of the Greats stood, the location for the night’s festivities.

Pushing the doors open, two thousand students were bombarded by the clockwork symphony that played at the end of the hall. A marvel of Technologism, the brass constructs played with an exactness more perfect than even the most skilled human musicians, their sheer skill enough to make up for the lack of true emotion behind their dynamics. White-clothed tables lined the end closest to the entrance, filled with tasteful morsels and delicacies, while sharply-dressed chefs poised over larger roasts and pots, ready to serve the hungering students. Alcohol, of course, was available too, as suited men and women carried silver platters of bubbly flutes and fruity wines. Closer to the mechanical orchestra was where the dance floor was established, promising and yet daunting in its emptiness. There were dress rooms too, filled with outfits for rental, with tailors and seamstresses ready to make on-the-spot adjustments for any strangely-configured Egoist…or just regular humans. From the Occidental to the Oriental, from indigenous patterns to avant-garde designs, the treasure trove of cloths would send anyone with even a modicum of interest in dressing up into a tizzy. And for those who would prefer more private accommodations? Flights of spiral stairs would inevitably lead to clandestine opera boxes, equipped with plush seats, subdued lighting, and velvety curtains to dampen the incandescent hubbub below...or to provide a perfect view of it.

The stage was set to let the first night in Bermuda be a glorious one. As the first youths stepped into the Hall of the Greats, the clocktower struck 6PM.

Three and a half hours remained.

♪

Liebe Lucretia,

Wir haben Tests mit Modellen durchgeführt, die nach Ihren Spezifikationen aktualisiert wurden. Spürbare Verbesserungen bei 'A', 'TR' und 'FE'.

Wir freuen uns, wenn 'Icarus' höher steigt, aber wir sind weit von Perfektion entfernt. Viele Verbesserungen sind noch möglich.

Königsmähne über alles.

Mit Grüßen,
Karloman Königsmähne

A pair of emerald green eyes blinked once after they were done reading the telegram, followed by dainty yet deft fingers performing a simple formulization on the parchment, muddling the written surface into something completely unrecognizable, the letter looked no more different than any other piece of paper now. The Polymath responsible for it then neatly folded the letter as she stored it in her backpack, her floating metal backpack, a curious construction of iron, its steel blue surface gleaming under the light of her cabin aboard Queen Titania. Speaking of the luxury airliner, she deduced that it'd soon be arriving at Bermuda Academy's port... but there was still enough time to write a reply.



Lucretia of House Konigsmahne disembarked from the airship, neatly in formation of a tour group as with thousands of other students. With her 'backpack' floating close to her, she let her eyes roam the gargantuan marvel of engineering that was the artificial island of Bermuda. The sheer craftsmanship was impeccable, both functional and aesthetically pleasing, truly the pinnacle of just what Technologism could achieve, yet another proof that it was the one true path to Enlightenment. As skilled as a Dynamist is at bending the elements or as strong as an Egoist can be, these two disciplines would eventually lead to stagnancy, machines could perform everything the former could without tiring, and the latter was an evolutionary dead-end as they mutated themselves into sterile abominations.

Like a proper freshman of the most prestigious academy in the world, Lucy followed her group's assigned guide without fuss, her extraordinary mind taking careful notes of all the important details she gathered during the welcome tour. The academic center, leisure district, dorms, and points of access. For her own personal accommodations, she'd very much prefer if she could get her private own room, but if such a boon wasn't possible, then she'd have to make do, here's hoping that whatever roommate - if any - she'd get would be the amicable sort. Few could stress her out more than a rambunctious nosy brat who had zero sense personal space.

A strange curfew... hmmm... interesting, behind every policy was a reason, but the ones given to the students were paper-thin attempts at deflecting their inquiries. Heavy fog? Every single night? Only a simpleton would be satisfied by such an 'answer'. Definitely a matter she should look into sooner than later, even if only to guarantee her own safety.



When the luminous orange sphere was finally resting for the day, Lucretia arrived at the tour's final destination, the so-called 'Hall of Greats'... and upon first glance, she could see why it deserved the title.

Ah, indeed, this magnificent chamber reminded her of home, where her House would hold a grand feast to honor esteemed guests, such as Kaiser Heinrich himself and the imperial entourage. All manner of gourmet food and drinks served on pristine ornate tables, professional staff ever at the ready to serve. This was enough to sway even the stoic heiress to try out a few light delicacies herself, especially those she hadn't tried before. Turkish Delights... gelatinous sweets from the Ottoman Empire, how curious, delicious too. Hmmm~ "Ah..." But she's here for a purpose, get a hold of yourself, Lucretia. Her pale cheeks rosened slightly at this moment of weakness.

Sighing, she took out a picture from her pocket, the colored sketch of a certain Austrian youth with hair of dark wood, and emerald irises just like hers. There were notes written at the back, but most prominent were two words settled right next to each other, Franz Steiner... She reinforced her knowledge of his features before putting the sketch away for safekeeping.

Thus, Lucy's search through the Great Hall began, and while it might have been a difficult task for the average person, it was rather elementary for a technologist savant with outstanding attention to detail like herself. Soon enough, she spotted her quarry, a brunette teen a few years older than herself with mirroring eye color.

She made no hesitation to beeline her way toward him.

"Guten Abend, Herr Steiner," She greeted him, trying to grab his attention. If she was successful, Franz would see a white-haired young girl standing a whole feet and a half shorter than him. Due to the fame of House Konigsmahne, and her being the child prodigy of said noble house, perhaps he could recognize her, perhaps not, regardless, she would proceed to offer him her right hand, "I am Lucretia von Konigsmahne, a pleasure to meet you." While the lingua franca of the Academy was Latin, she spoke in German due to the close heritage of their respective nations, "Would you honor me with a moment of your time?"

@Jumbus

قلیل،

آپ کی اگلی ادائیگی واجب الادا ہے۔ مدد کرنے کے لیے، ہم کچھ معلومات شامل کرتے ہیں۔ ایک چھوٹی جرمن لڑکی، جس کا نام K سے شروع ہوتا ہے۔ ایک امیر گھرانے سے تعلق رکھنے والی۔

آپ جانتے ہیں کہ اگر آپ ہماری ادائیگیوں میں ناکام رہتے ہیں تو کیا ہوتا ہے۔

---

The paper crumpled in his hand, after having read it a dozen times to commit the details to memory. This was his own doing, after all. He got himself into this mess, there was no point denying it. This school was to be Kalil and his father's freedom or they would be damned. Failure and hesitation could not take a place in his heart, guilt and concious needed to be thrown away into the wind. He took to cupping the paper between his palms, the formula around the paper revealing themselves to him. So many secrets lay within, so many more secrets he could learn. If only he could escape these bothersome people and be done with it all. Heat flowed into the paper, unnaturally hot in his hands. Embers grew into flames, dissolving the letter to little pieces of unrecognisable dust.

Kalil sighed and brought heat to his shisha, pulling vapour from the miniature pipe with detachment. The vapour already lay heavy in the air of the empty bathroom, much like the thoughts within his head. The room provided privacy from the world outside and he had purposefully smoked it out to make sure the gaseous contents of the room were known to him. Sound could come into the room but no such thing could come out, the vibrating particles he perceived dulling the sounds emitted from himself. Much study had been done to know what sound wave propagated with what energy through what gas. To nullify sound to a whisper, one needed to study the formulae of every factor within their surroundings. A process which he relished and one he wished was valuable enough to pay off his debts. He found himself talking to no one, letting the sounds of his native Urdu carry only to his own ears.

"If only I could do this all day, sit here and ignore the world around, smoking tobacco." Another detached inhalation, flavour bursting on his tongue. Kalil glanced at the miniature pipe clipped to his silk pants. "Hmm, blueberry mint. A favourite of my father. A joke from the Bengals or a message?"

The Golden Bengals had taken to sending the merchant heir differing flavours for the shisha every month. Some held hallucinogens while others merely had tobacco within. It was otherwise expected of him to finish the flavour by the end of the month or further interest would be put on his debt. A sort of cruel joke, tying him with addiction like that. Kalil liked to think that sometimes, his father would be able to choose what flavour he was given. Imagination at this point, since he had not seen the old man in what felt like years. Shying away from those thoughts, he took to pondering upon what he had seen of the school which would be his new home. Rich and extravagant, as befitting the sort of pomp he had expected of such a place. Not unlike his own old manor in wealth but much more artificial. He could sense the grand history behind his old home, passed on from merchant to merchant's son throughout many years. Dhaka was a grand city, though unknown to much outside the Orient, and it had close to a million people. He had felt the hustle and bustle, constant movements. Even the dust of formulae he had seen there seemed to be moving, the air was never the same from one place to another.

Here, it felt still. Maybe he had just been too used to large cities to be expected to like Bermuda. Academic City felt empty in comparison. And certain things rubbed him the wrong way. The segregation of the adult population from the students almost seemed unnecessary and reminded Kalil of some of the injustices from the Mughals themselves. The rulers of the Empire were different from their majority Hindu subjects and though integration had been progressing, the separation between the masses and state could still be seen in some cities. He had seen so in some cities, the Mughals separated from the Hindus. An air of superiority from the former to the latter. He was sure that if he spied any students emulating the same sort of thing to the "lessers" beyond those walls, he would take out his building frustration on them, consequences be damned.

Another puff and the broiling fury ebbed away from him, Kalil taking measured breaths. It was time for him to do what he needed to do. "Stop escaping duty, idiot."

Looping the hose around the shisha securely, the tan-skinned heir stood and opened the door. Extending his palms, he concentrated on the formula which lay within and the formula which lay outside, moving the vapour inside to dissipate outside. Satisfied with work done, he fished an artful sketch of a young girl from his pocket. Green eyes, light hair, a metal contraption around her. Cute, for a girl so young. He had seen her around the tour group but hesitated to approach, knowing that many Occidentals had a superiority complex when it came to someone like him. The hostile sounding last name did not help for a friendly image at all. Foreigners and their strange names, why couldn't they name their children something normal? There were so many symbols and syllables he felt himself tounge-tied saying it aloud.

Kalil brushed imaginary dust off his shoulders and adjusted his turban, ruby jewel and silver swaying. Heirlooms which he did not have the heart to sell but with his growing depseration, he may need to. Righting his ornamental robes, he set to walking around the Hall of Greats. Students mingled and littered around the hall, some indulging in the food, others in the alcohol. Some seemed to indulge in the latter a little too much and a little too often than what was appropriate. Not that he could say anything about people indulging in their vices.

Picking up a cool glass of sauvignon blanc from a servant, he set to searching, eyes scanning the room. He almost risked blowing his cool facade when the white wine hit his tongue. He nearly sputtered, shaking his head. "Why the fuck do Westerners like this shit?" he muttered in Urdu, setting the glass down. He'd rather have a farmer's distilled fire-drink than that bittersweet crap. He settled on taking a handful of more familiar Turkish Delights in his hand, munching on them to get rid of that foul taste.

His fortunes would rise, then unfortunately fall, once Kalil saw the Konigs- Konik- Korny- the German girl beelining it to an Occidental male. And he refused to interrupt that conversation with a handful of sweets, acting like a weird fellow to what amounted to a child. Instead, the merchant heir set to come near enough to the pair to hear them but far enough to hopefully not arouse suspicion.

Kalil munched on his turkish sweets, ears taut but eyes gazing down to his hands. Maybe these will help somehow? He made to grab a few more assortments of sweets from a passing waiter, just in case.

---

@Jumbus@Izurich

Franz took in the sheer spectacle of Bermuda. The sense of awe he felt in the presence of such displays had only been matched one time before. It was much like his first trip to Vienna. Growing up in some gloomy farm town and arriving in the grand centre of the nation. Now, he stood in the grand centre of the world. His eyes were filled with wonder, while his mouth had a slight bitter taste of the wealth taken to construct it. It was a strange, conflicting set of emotions to be sure.

The guided tour was an educational one. Franz never missed the opportunity to ask about landmarks and gain a greater understanding of the entire city. He made a particular mental note about the curfew. 10pm was a reasonable time and he would have no problem following it. But could he gain some advantage from staying past it? Certainly if it were only a fog that stops navigation, himself or most Egoists could still easily navigate it. Even then, most students of Bermuda’s caliber wouldn’t be held back by a simple fog. There was probably more to it, and he was not about to be the lab rat to find out.

The final stop was in front of some daunting, oversized doors. Franz was glad he had asked about opening ceremonies before getting off the air ship. Freya and Thor would have become stressed to no end if they had to endure whatever was on the other side. Another bonus was that he was dressed to the nines from the get go. In all regards, he was ready for this party.

---

The first thing that stood out to Franz was the music. The technological constructs played competently, flawlessly in fact. It was an incredible feat of science that was playing before him. But he couldn’t ignore the fact that it was a disservice to the arts. Ask any musician in Vienna and they will tell you that technical excellence is only a fraction of playing compelling music. The ‘flaws’ are small additions of personality each musician brings to their performance. Although the untrained ear cannot consciously pin point the difference, it is subconsciously noticed by all. Unfortunately, technical excellence is all these constructs could bring to the table. Music was music though, and there was no point in having a sour mood over nothing.

Franz knew who he had to enquire about for his mission, but in his mind there was plenty of time. The night was still young after all and he deemed it far more important that he make a good name for himself. There were 2000 students starting attendance, but Franz doubted he would need to learn the names of more than 100 of them. Still, he needed to wade through just about all of them to find out who those 100 people were.

Franz approached a waiter carrying a plate of wine glasses, but didn’t grab one. “Waiter, this is a place of wonder and mystery to me. Therefore, it would be fitting that I try a wine I have never had before.” The waiter paused for a bit before handing him a small glass containing a pink wine. The waiter was correct, Franz had only heard about pink wine through conversation and rumors back home. “Thank you” he replied before dismissing the waiter and giving it a curious sip. It was quite sweet and very palatable compared to the few wines he had tried previously. Franz would have to remind himself of moderation, not that he has struggled with it in the past.

The wonder of Bermuda and the excitement of new horizons had made sparking conversation very easy. Franz had found himself occupied with three other students making casual conversation and cracking the occasional joke. One even laughed at his mention of studying Mesmerology, thinking it to be a joke. Franz took no offense of course, the reputation of the profession was well known and he had met plenty of ignorant people before.

Franz had his back turned so he didn’t see Lucy making a beeline toward him. "Guten Abend, Herr Steiner" Franz spun around to see… nothing. It was only until he tilted his head down that he saw who was addressing him. Lucrieta von Konigsmahne, any German would recognize that family name and that fame would also extend to their Austrian neighbours. Franz was well aware of who she was even before she introduced herself. “Ah, Guten Abend.”

"I am Lucretia von Konigsmahne, a pleasure to meet you. Would you honor me with a moment of your time?" How curious that a girl of such family prestige would seek out someone like him, Franz thought. Still, he would reply politely and continue the conversation in German. “The pleasure is all mine, frau Konigsmahne.” He would take her hand and gently shake it while giving a small bow. “You must forgive me, I am not too well versed in the German etiquette nor that of higher nobility. I do, however, always have time to give to one who speaks the native tongue.”

---

Mentions: @Izurich

Valeriya Zhukova

Truth be told, she doubted she'd ever get used to this. For an orphan girl from Siberia masquerading as a prodigy adopted by lesser nobility, the trappings of the rich and powerful were still somewhat foreign to Valeriya. Only on the inside, of course. Externally, the blonde engineer merely gave off a bored-looking stare as she followed after her tour group.

Even as Valeryia did as best she could to blend in and not stand out overmuch, she still marvelled internally at the sheer opulence of the facilities. Even the dorms were better than anything she'd ever slept in, including the manor of the boyars she'd been actually inserted with both to establish her cover and to reinforce how to act in her assigned role. The idea of a 10 pm curfew was hilarious, though. And she was probably going to violate that sooner rather than later. For her mission if nothing else. Hopefully, whoever she was bunked with would both be tolerable and not ask too many questions. She could work around either or both not being the case, but why ask for hardship if one doesn't need to?

___

God, how were her fellows getting drunk off this literal piss water? Valeriya gave a dissatisfied grimace as she knocked back a glass of rose that was too light and too sweet to be dubbed alcohol. Hell, she doubted there was anything stronger here than red wine. Still, best not to get too drunk at any time here. There were appearances to maintain and secrets to keep. Nonetheless, Valeriya supposed to herself that she should begin socializing. Best to blend in first and make sure her cover was secure before working in earnest towards her assignment.

Fortunately, Valeriya had taken full advantage of the dress rooms and rentals to switch into garb more appropriate for high society. Tonight, she wore a simply-designed, yet high-quality long silk dress dyed red, with exposed shoulders and arms. Slightly scandalous, but well-crafted enough and just tasteful enough that she wasn't outing herself as some sort of slattern.

A quick glance around the room gave her at least one conversation starter already. She smirked slightly at the...well, she couldn't really tell what nationality he was just from a glance. Definitely from the Middle East or the southern parts of the Orient. Still, good to know someone else couldn't quite stomach the literal grape juice they had on offer tonight.

Valeriya sidled up beside what she didn't know was a Mughal, letting a light, casual smirk stay on her face.

"I see someone else here cannot stand this...fruit juice either." She remarked in Chinese tinged in a moderate Russian accent. While her Latin was perfect, Valeriya's apparent command of the trade languages was...less so. She could certainly tighten up her diction and lessen her accent, but there was little need to here. Frankly, it would be more odd to see an Occidental this young speak both of the common trade languages with near-native pronounciation, even though she could.

"Back home in Russia, this would be regarded as barely worth of being called alcohol. I take it your homeland also prefers stronger beverages?" She inclined her head towards the boy slightly, her smirk softening. "But where are my manners? Valeriya Zhukova. A pleasure."

___

Mentions: @SgtEasy

Shou Zheng

As the tours came to an end, Shou found there was little he could complain about the facilities and accommodations offered by the Academy. He might have grown accustomed to life aboard merchant and naval ships, but he certainly wasn’t going to turn his nose up at a bit of comfort and luxury. The weeks spent aboard the Queen Titania had shown he had no trouble sleeping in the softest of beds. With the gentle call of the waves against the sandy beaches in the distance and a slight kiss of salt in the air? There would be no trouble relaxing and enjoying his time spent at the Academy.

Diving into the ocean beneath the setting sun might have been his first choice after being cooped up in an airship all the way to Bermuda, but a grand and opulent party wasn’t bad either. The barrage to his senses was rather pleasant, and he quickly took in all that the hall had to offer as he stepped inside. Music had never been of much interest to him, and he paid little attention to the symphony as background noise. Instead, his ears twitched a bit as he caught all manners of conversations. While many were spoken in Latin, there were perhaps just as many being carried out in the students’ native tongues.

While he kept an ear out on the off-chance something important slipped, Shou personally enjoyed the array of scents that filled the hall from the laid out feast. There was plenty of unfamiliar fare to sample and taste, and he started to fill up a plate for himself. If this were a more official ceremony, he may have first changed his clothes like some of the other students had. For a welcome ceremony that the students were supposed to enjoy? Having alterations made to suit him seemed like a waste of time and materials, however small, when he was perfectly comfortable as is.

With a well-laden plate in one hand and a pair of glasses in the other, Shou cast his gaze around the hall as he waited for the chef to finish with his last request. Within the crowd of his peers it was easy to see numerous Egoists like himself. ‘What do each of them strive for?’ He wondered as he looked from one to another. In between them Polymaths of all kinds, geniuses of his generation. It was a bit of a shame their specializations were not so readily apparent. Certainly it would have made his task a lot easier. “Thanks.” Leaving his thoughts alone for a moment, he nodded towards the man before finally making his way to one of the tables that lined the walls of the hall.

Sipping from one of the glasses, he had to weave a bit here and there as his tail whipped back and forth to slip through the other students without bumping into anyone. The slight fizz and sweetness to the bubbling drink was quite different and nice to what they drank back home. Weaker too if he could barely differentiate the alcohol within from the carbonation.

Taking one of the seats that were designed to accommodate an Egoist with a tail such as himself, Shou started eating right away. The Academy had even been thoughtful enough to provide chopsticks alongside the more typical Western utensils.

LÊ BẰNG KIỀU

---

He fought the urge to rid himself of the sweat, directing his vigilance to ensure his serene smile didn’t turn to a grimace as they toured. Facility after facility, the uneven pressure between his soles made the walk more tiresome. The clack of his cane against polished road remained mostly even, the slightest variation in rhythm only noticeable to Bang himself. Hopefully.

Somehow it was easier when my foot was just metal, he sighed inwardly. Another bead of moisture ran down his temple.

The view of the city itself did somewhat compensate him for the ordeal. He could imagine himself sitting in a shaded pavilion with a cup of coffee, reading through a paper as his fellow students roamed outside. Ah, how peaceful that would be. Something to keep him feeling close to home, despite the empty streets, the way the lack of traffic and life seemed to echo onto itself. As their guide paused to speak at length about the hospitality available to the student body, Bang took the opportunity to pull out a chair and rest his feet. In his right shoe, his single toe flexed tiredly.

Not that there’s any need for this to be a home, he supposed. If anything, this is just another workplace.

--

A childish grin adorned his face as he watched the orchestra. It really was a Technologist sentiment, wasn’t it, feeling the need to embellish even the most mundane and unnecessary of tasks. Apart from creating a distracting whirlwind of brass that was always out the corner of his eye, was it functionally any different from just playing a particularly loud record player? Probably, if the priority here was spectacle rather than a listening experience.

He made his way to the catering area, remarking on the students he passed on the way. A pair conversing in German, which he couldn’t understand. A Middle Eastern fellow clearly not enjoying his drink. The Russian girl near the fellow, the smile on her face a far cry from the bored expression Bang had noticed during the tour. How nice that she was finally enjoying herself. His eyes lingered on the girl, her bare shoulders and exposed neck, only hurrying away once he’d decided that enough blood had rushed to his face. He still had a main objective for the night: testing the limits of this all-you-can-eat service. A little easier said than done when his cane left him with only one free hand. The boy uttered a gracious ‘thank you’ to the chef as a bowl was slid towards him. Aromatic, red, filled to the brim and just waiting for half its contents to get spilled to the shiny floor. He stared at the bowl and tapped his cane once, seemingly anxious. The sensible thing would be to ask one of the waiters for assistance, but Bang chose to look at this as a potential for connection.

He turned to the student next to him. “Ah, please excuse me. I’d hate to be an inconvenience but… would you be able to help me take this to one of the dining tables?”

On one of the observation decks of the grand and luxurious airship, a bespectacled girl, Ryuuko, gazed upon the brilliant azure sky above and the great infinite ocean below, her scaled hands casually resting on a bar of railing and tails slowly swaying left and right. The blue tinted scenery was a common sight throughout the trip; beautiful as it might be, it would not have been at all unreasonable for one to be bored and tired of it. For Ryuuko however, it was a sight that remained fresh for the eyes. She had always been more the type to be outdoor than one to be cooped in, and the observation decks provided the closest it can be for her to the feeling of being outdoor free and unshackled while aboard the airship.

"Actually it's more about the feeling of freedom than the sentiment of being outdoor itself, really. Thinking about it, I should probably grow myself a pair of wings huh? Imagine the freedom that'd bring, even if it will add one more complication when I'm dressing up, haha!" Ryuuko heartily remarked to the other students hanging out with her, grinning widely. The other students responded by laughing casually or nodding in acknowledgement before then talking in turn, continuing their casual discussion. These other students, they were drawn to Ryuuko by her cheerful attitude and friendly nature; a welcome change compared to many of the other students aboard the Queen Titania who decided to remain formal, reserved, or even guarded in their interactions with their fellow students. Some might initially be intimidated by either her half-draconic appearance or her straightforward friendliness or both, and some others might simply not appreciate Ryuuko for whatever reasons. But not these students and many others; Ryuuko had never really been one who is wanting for friendship due to her highly social nature.

The light banter continued for a while more until lunchtime whereupon the other students left for lunch, leaving Ryuuko alone as she opted to remain in the observation deck. She continued gazing upon the sky and the sea, seemingly absentmindedly. Then she raised her arms, stretching them and letting out a relieved sigh at the end of it before turning around and heading for one of the exits of the observation deck. Hmmmm. Now then, I suppose I'd better get some lunch for myself and see who else I can find to... hang around with~ She smiled to herself at the thought, curiosity and anticipation mixing together within her. She truly did enjoy getting to know new people and expanding her social connections... The fact that this naturally also gave her the opportunity to casually observe and take mental notes of the other students were simply added bonus. She had already picked out several of the other more notable and famous individuals among her peers, those that were more likely to be of high significance to her own ventures in the academy for one reason or another.

"まぁ、取り合えず後16日か。時間はまだまだ沢山だな。次は何を見つけるか楽しみね、へへ～" She mumbled to herself in her native language, continuing to smile casually as she walked ahead...



Arrival, disembarkation, and then a tour whereupon the two thousand youths were divided into a hundred different groups. Everything went by pretty quickly indeed in this first day on the island for the new students. Lots of useful information were gained throughout the tour. Ryuuko made sure to memorize where the important landmarks and facilities are, all the while enjoying the sight and chatting with a few new acquaintances she quickly made within her tour group. All in all, it was a fun enough experience for her... Although she had to let out a groan at one point during the tour as the group passed through an area which architecture were based upon the traditional Japanese style. All this way here in Bermuda and she still can't fully escape such annoyance... Oh well, never mind that. Can't let a single disappointment ruin the experience!

Aside from that, one more thing stuck out to Ryuuko during the tour. The 10pm curfew which were left without a satisfactory answer as to the rationale behind it. "Heavy fog every night after 10pm" was the only explanation given. You'd think they would have at least prepared a better explanation than that. Well, smells like something else that'll need to be poked around with, hehe~ She had to suppress a giggle at the thought. It's as if they were deliberately fanning the flames of curiosity within the students.

Regardless, the tour then reached the final destination as the sun fell and the day turned to night. The Hall of the Greats they called it, an extravagant opera house designed in gothic Occidental style. Ryuuko was no fan of opera and the like but hey, at least it wasn't designed after a Kabuki theater... That would have been a nightmare for her. Just remembering all those boring plays she was forced to attend to and watch by her parents made her internally shiver... Anyways, all looked well and fine indeed within the Hall of the Greats. So many delicacies to try and people to mingle with.

Ryuuko casually strode through the place, greeting and waving at some of the other students she had came to know within the last 30 days. She didn't specifically dress for the occasion, finding the need to fulfill such formal expectation tiring. Instead, she just wore one of her usual set of casual outfits, not caring of others' approval or disapproval of her choice. It might as well, since her outfit suited her seemingly nonchalant attitude and aimless wandering as she took in her surrounding.

Hmmmm. There... And there. Soon enough, Ryuuko had scouted out potential interests among the crowd of fellow students within the hall; those that she had committed to mind as likely of significance and of benefits to pay close attention to. And even among these, there were those who she needed to scrutinize even more than the others... Her eyes casually flit from each of these individuals to the others as she considered what she should do next, all the while leaning back in a relaxed manner on the nearest wall. That's the youngest daughter of the Konigsmahne there... She's speaking with... Franz Steiner. That's the guy who swore that he's serious about Mesmerology. Ryuuko suppressed a wide smile at that. Not because she thought Steiner was ridiculous, but because she had always thought that he was a brave one considering the stigma around Mesmerology. She can relate with people that were not afraid to break the mold, after all...

Recovering herself, Ryuuko then continued her observation, this time spotting yet two more individuals engaged in a banter. Valeriya Zhukova, Khalil Gharbi..... Hmm? That was when her stomach made a low grumbling noise, putting her out of her observation. Oh, hahaha! Right, whoops. I forgot that I haven't had any dinner myself, silly me~ Chuckling to herself, she then decided to suspend her observation and to get some delicious nourishment first instead. Can't work on an empty stomach and all that. She walked and looked around for some delicacies that looked interesting enough to try out, ending up browsing a particular table. This looks good... This also looks good... That looks better. Hmmmm, which to get, which to get.... All? She was so absorbed in the task that she didn't notice the young man beside her, who suddenly talked to her. “Ah, please excuse me. I’d hate to be an inconvenience but… would you be able to help me take this to one of the dining tables?” The man's voice broke her out of her focus as she then looked at him.

Well, that was lucky. Ryuuko quickly recognized who this young man was. She smiled casually, addressing him in return. "Oh! Sure thing, no problem at all!" She took the bowl that the man asked assistance with, nodding at him. "It's just this, right? Oh by the way... You're Lê Bằng Kiều, aren't you? You're quite famous, you know." She giggled casually before resuming with an introduction of her own. "Anyways, I'm Ryuuko. Higashiakemi Ryuuko. You might have heard of me, you might have not. Regardless, nice to meet you!" She puts on an even bigger smile at that, her double branched tails swaying left and right slightly. Not only that she genuinely liked meeting new people, this young man was one of those that was on her list of significant people of interest. She'd like to think that this was a lucky occasion indeed.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Mentions: @banjoanjo

---

She fiddled idly with a button as she ignored the entertainments and headed straight for where the food was.

Students.

All they seemed to be learning for now was how to make a monkey out of themselves. Probably trying to look sophisticated or trying to look like they know anything about alcohol. She was certain some of them can't even appreciate the delicate taste of certain vintage, or even tell the difference between different wines from different regions.

While she wasn't at all interested in any of this considering she was only here for the promise of rewards, she must say there were some concerns raised at the curfew. For what reason was it 10pm specifically? Had it been for the purpose of reducing fornication amongst the student body, somewhere around 6 or 8pm would be far more believable. That... would be something she would investigate, if she had any inclination to.

The button popped off, but she didn't seem to notice, her attention taken by something far more important for now.

Jeanne made herself busy collecting slices of meat and a few leaves of vegetables on a plate. She'd have taken some of the cheese too, but they did not have the specific blue cheese from a certain region in France that she liked. There was a certain brand of Swedish cheese on display, but it still had that red wax layer on the outside, and she refused to dirty her hands to deal with that.

She would say she was keeping an eye out for anyone that stood out, but everyone here was someone that stood out. Ah, ç'est la vie, the opportunity will arise, sooner or later.

The journey aboard the skyship was an exciting one, in more than one way. First was the novelty of travelling itself – and by air! The vistas whenever they descended to or ascended from a port were exhilarating, and so was the view from up above the clouds. Then, there was the ship itself, which exhibited all the splendor technology could produce. Admittedly, it was unnecessarily extravagant, obviously built to show off. But since he got to sample all the fruits of labour put into it, Kiran couldn’t truly complain.

The fact that he was able to examine its construction thoroughly had him giddy, and he shared this excitement with some similarly minded youths. Truly, it was the people who most fascinated him. Such a variety of cultures, behaviours, ideas, and inclinations…an expanse of minds on offer to quench his curiosity! Well, there were plenty of those who stuck to themselves, of course, but that was beside the point. Kiran had played sports with some, read in silence with others, dined with those who appreciated company for a meal, and engaged in refreshing (sometimes heated) intellectual discussions. The times he spent alone were usually sequestered in his study compiling notes and ideas, exploring the ship, or relaxing upon the observation decks.

It was marvelous, all of it, but nothing quite so much as setting eyes upon Bermuda.

---

There was plenty available in the city, all built purely for the sake of their convenience and comfort. It was mind-boggling; both wonderful, and perplexing. Did they truly need so many entertainment venues? And how expensive would these services be, anyways? He had some finances available, of course, but Kiran would honestly appreciate some opportunity to work for some extra cash, yet he’d not seen any such obvious opportunity yet…He’d have to ask around at a later point.

The point about the curfew visibly disgruntled many of the students, himself included. Are they being so vague because they want us to break it? Whether it was a challenge or a secret, Kiran was determined he’d investigate, though not without proper preparation – and, given the students’ reaction, perhaps he could find would-be partners-in-crime? Not that they’d be breaking a law, per se, merely a suggestion.

They were shown the dormitories, where their luggage had been sent to – the luggage they’d relinquished, that was. Kiran had kept his MU in suitcase form, carrying it by hand. He was not the only one to do so, though there were a rare few who obviously elected to keep any such personal effects with them. He suspected they’d done it for the same reason as him; he didn’t want to leave even the slightest chance for someone to mess with his project.

Besides the curfew, he found it odd that there was a specific section for the adults to reside in, separated from the rest of the island. Are we not allowed to visit, should we want to? Or are they not to disturb us needlessly? It was curious that they seemed to be discouraged from mingling with adults. It was possible those in charge believed they would have nothing of use or interest to offer each other, but Kiran wasn’t convinced. Subjects which did not pertain to Formulization were best addressed to those who did not study it, after all.

Finally, they were led to the Hall of Greats. Similarly, to the ship, it was over the top. Again, since it served its function and fulfilled the intention of wowing the students, it could be forgiven for its stench of filthy investors’ money. If only such a thing could truly engender peace…

Distracted from his mildly somber thought by the scent of food, Kiran meandered his way towards the richly laden tables. He hooked his metal suitcase round the elbow of his left, which freed both his hands, though necessitated a mildly awkward position of his arm. As long as he could freely eat, he frankly didn’t care. Kiran went straight to the roast, asking politely for a few juicy cuts.

Plate in hand, he wandered around the tables carefully, seeking a free seat with a good view, or perhaps next to someone he was acquainted with. He just so happened to pass a Russian bemoaning the alcohol selection in Chinese to someone from the Orient. Finding himself amused, and in agreement with the girl, he stopped by.

“Sorry to intrude, but I couldn’t pass up a conversation so close to my heart,” he answered. Among the foreign languages he spoke, Kiran’s Chinese was least practiced, and it showed. “When I heard you mention the poor selection,” he nodded at Valeriya, “I thought…What if we brewed our own?” he suggested, sly smile upon his lips, and a gleam of mischief in his eyes.

“Oh, and the name’s Kiran Agnarsson, from Iceland,” he introduced himself breezily, following Valeriya’s cue, though perhaps with more eagerness than grace compared to her.

Interactions: @Psyker Landshark@SgtEasy

Finally, Bermuda island. While the trip aboard one of the world’s premiere luxury airships was certainly not to be missed, it was good to have her feet on the ground again, and a chance to really stretch her legs.

She used the tour as an opportunity to chat a bit with the other students in her group, and also learn the lay of the land. It was difficult for her not to be impressed by all the architecture on display. The place reminded her of an island sized world expo. All the global powers were represented somehow, along the way. Sadly, there was little opportunity to see the actual facilities where they’d be working as Polymaths, but it was still the first day.

That curfew thing was definitely weird, more so for the reason. Expecting everyone to be indoors by 10:00 wasn’t unreasonable at all. Fog on or around the ocean wasn’t unusual either. But every night? That was either a lie, or something strange was going on to be that consistent. Maybe it had to do with the innumerable formulazations used to make the place?

The adults living on their own was also a bit strange. Wouldn’t they at least have people to mind the dorms, or that sort of thing, present all the time? Perhaps it was just some cultural thing.



Hana took a while to make her appearance at the ball, having first stopped to change into a proper hanbok. It wasn’t necessary, but it certainly felt right to properly represent her own nation, especially if their hosts made it so easy to do.

While she had her own objectives, it was perhaps too early to try and act on them. Plenty of time to get to work later, and besides, the sheer number of students in attendance would make finding any specific person a needle in a haystack. So, best to just enjoy herself, at least for a start.

Hana spent her time mingling with the other students, snacking on the various food items available, and even on the occasional dance. Not that she was particularly good at the occidental dances the music clearly favored. It would have been nice if she didn’t come off as the sort of person who accidentally stepped on her partner’s feet, but she just played up the whole not knowing these foreign ways.

Eventually, she did start looking for her needle in a haystack. Was that him over in that break in the crowd? Maybe, same hat, though that went for more than a few of the students. Whatever the case, maybe she could maneuver into a chance meeting here.

Of course, she didn’t mean to literally bump right into him, that was all someone jostling her unexpectedly from behind in the crowd. “Ah! Sorry, I didn’t mean to run into you.”

---

@liotrent
Or anyone else, really.

Clockwork Autumn

“Hmm.” A dispassionate murmur arose from a certain silver-haired girl as crimson-colored eyes flitted over a friendly, familial telegram from her adoptive father. It was written in the plaintext language of her homeland, and despite its innocuous appearance, had a multiple-layer cipher hidden within. Without a further use for the paper, she fed the scrap to the small clockwork hawk resting on her shoulder. With a majestic cry, it spread its convincingly feathered wings and swooped out through the cabin’s open window to shadow the Queen Titania, the telegram long gone.

Sitting back at her writing desk, the girl silently penned her response.

-

A peregrine circled in the skies above Bermuda, its keen eye lazily searching for its prey. It was a strange sighting, as the species was not native to this region, but to the natives and students of the island, there were always far stranger things afoot to take notice of a single example of an invasive species.

Below, Nazca Whitehall took in the environment of the island around her. Its architecture was truly impressive, its stonework and terracotta masonry constructed on a grand scale, and indeed, a beauty to rival even the majesty of the buildings of London. Beneath the beautiful façade and shifting cultural aesthetics, laid a masterwork of city planning, its organized, tight construction belying its origins and quick rise as a city of the post-war era. Nazca could appreciate it all, but preferred the more organic way that London and the cities of her childhood had developed and incorporated the formulae and learning of the recent years. More importantly, however, was the access to the resources and opportunities that such a modern city could bring, despite its artificial nature.

For such a planned society, she had expected some unusual and rigid rules, and indeed, that was seen in the decision to separate students from adults. Nazca had no opinion on the majestic nature of the dormitories; having lived in the palaces of the Tlaxcala, from the spartan encampments of a defeated army on retreat, the slums in hiding, and then back to grandeur again in the manors of England, as long as there was bed and a roof, it was sufficient. Good food, on the other hand…

Most unusual, however, was the dormitory curfew. For how much freedom and leeway the academy offered the students, a curfew felt out of character, and the explanations and justification offered to back it was stranger still. Thankfully, she was in a unique position to investigate it, even if there was a distinct risk of property damage to herself if the rumors of deep fog were true. That, however, would be something to worry about at a later time. With help, she’d already identified her person of interest.

There was a ball to attend, food to eat, and a job to perform.

-

The private opera boxes were a nice touch. It allowed Nazca to eat to her heart’s content –with an eclectic variety of dishes from the world’s cultures and cuisines—in peace, so that she could savor each and every flavor without interruption, all while getting the chance to observe the organized chaos down below. Just as her selection of foods were eclectic, so were the varied students mingling on the floor below her. It was an entire generation’s worth of the world’s most gifted and talented, and there were enough faces that she could put names to in the crowd that it almost seemed to be a gala of celebrities. A gala of very dangerous celebrities, if looked at from a different angle.

One of the male students, darker-skinned like herself, caught her eye.

Nazca decided her own allowance for private enjoyment was over. It was time to head back down below to properly greet the students she would likely be working with –or against—for the next few years. Along the way, she picked up a nice sweet little beverage –some sort of fruity concoction made of pineapple blend and some other tropical fruit that she couldn’t quite put a name to. It was a good dessert.

By the time she was back on the floor, her target was in conversation with two other students. One was the tsarist Russian prodigy, and the other was… a polymath from Iceland? Nazca didn’t particularly care much about Iceland, especially not when the cursed scion from the Mughal Empire warranted attention. So, she approached them.

There was a blank look on her face. Of all languages, they were speaking in Chinese. Of all the main languages in the world, it was the only one she barely knew. Then, her eyes fell upon the Turkish Delights in the Mughal man’s hand, and she decided to forcefully enter herself in the conversation. Subtlety be damned, she was going in.

“Excuse me,” she interjected directly, in perfectly accented Latin, before bluntly pointing at the Turkish Delights. “I was looking to try some of those, but the kitchen ran out. May I have one?”

---

@SgtEasy @SilverPaw @Psyker Landshark

Thirty days seemed to pass in the blink of an eye.

On the day the Queen Titania arrived in the Inca capital, Inti recalled that there was a thrum of excitement that seemed to run through everyone, from the average citizen looking up at the skyliner to the apu watching from their high rise homes. Although no one's excitement matched that of Inti himself.

He was marched out of the facility he'd called home for the past fifteen years. Siblings and caretakers touched his shoulders and face as he passed, wishing him well. He crossed the last hundred feet to the airship alone, gazing up at the titanic marvel. The air around the skyliner glittered and swirled, the brass gently pushing the sparkles away only for more to rush to fill the space. At the Queen Titania's ramp there were a handful of stewardesses ready to take the bags that had been packed for him. Among the staff were two women that Inti recognized. One was dressed smart and professional, with her long dark hair pulled into a tight braid. Inti had seen her only once before while she accompanied the Sapa Inca, and now she leaned down and whispered into his ear. Message delivered, she straightened up with a smile, patting Inti's cheek before striding away. The other woman was one his Bunch's caretakers - short, thick, and friendly. Likely she'd been overlooking everything and now had come to see Inti off.

He expected her to remind him to practice his languages, or on the flip side maybe gush and call him the pride of Qusqu. Instead she merely put her hands on her hips and said, "Go get them Inti!"

Inti broke into a wide, handsome smile. "Of course!"

He boarded. The experience was already very surreal, but he thought about how he was one of the first students on the ship, or maybe even the very first, and it suddenly got a lot more exhilarating. Somehow Inti felt that he should have more to say, maybe some kind of parting words... but to say that he was inexperienced with this kind of thing would be a vast understatement. He lingered at the skyliner's door, looking out. To the people watching from the edge of the landing area and from the facility's doors and windows, Inti raised his arms over his head and said the first thing that popped into his head.

"Munakuyki!" he called without an ounce of embarrassment. The audience of sorts replied in kind. It was an oddly lively send off all things considered, but the people of Tawantinsuyu had always been the vivacious sort. The Queen Titania's ramp retracted and the door closed, and soon it hefted itself back into the sky.

---

Yes, the thirty days passed by quickly. Inti had spent the time fully indulging in everything that the ship had to offer. He was often spotted in the gardens getting hands on with the flora, or in the gymnasiums trying to entice anyone he could to play a game with him - any game. With every stop that the Queen Titania made, Inti was sure to be found at hanging around the entry area and introducing himself. "Hi, my name is Inti," with that deep boyish cadence, was definitely ingrained into the staff's brains by the end of the journey. If any of the students he greeted were put off by the unfamiliar wild haired Inca, he just brushed it off. There were a multitude more students to connect with anyway. Nights were spent making sure his crash course in foreign languages and etiquette would stick. Soon enough it was the date of their arrival to Bermuda, and while Inti may have been one of the first on the ship he was one of the last to get off.

The tour of the city was insightful, and considering just how many places there were it was also very much appreciated. It wasn't a question of what was available in the city, but what wasn't? Just how much had they squeezed into one city? They'd even built different city sections using different cultural techniques, or so Inti assumed. There were buildings and areas that had a distinctly Tawantinsuyu feel, and many more that didn't seem to match it or each other. It was intriguing to look at, and it made it clear that this was definitely a city that was planned from the get go rather than built up naturally. Artificial, if a city could be called that. It was toward the end of the tour that Inti realized that artificial feel made him feel more at home already, and he laughed to himself despite some strange looks from fellow students.

As they approached the Hall of the Greats, there was hushed chatter among the tour group about the stranger aspects of the city, and especially the curfew that many seemed to take exception to. It was strange, sure, but Inti was more focused on the gigantic opera hall ahead of them. The inside was even more impressive that the outside, and at the first opportunity Inti bounded up a stairwell to the upper level, looking down on the instruments from above.

"Oh wow," he said aloud, eyes wide and expression openly amazed.

"It's just some self-playing instruments," said a posh looking boy nearby, "though pretty good ones."

"I've never seen any before," Inti replied. He glanced at the other boy, though any hopes for potential conversation were dashed when he scoffed and moved on. Inti stayed where he was, half leaned over the railing and watching the 'band' until his stomach protested. He went back down to the ground floor, taking everything in again at eye level for a few moments before moving again. He intended to eat dinner, but there were so many students and conversations going on that were all so interesting that he couldn't help but poke his head into a few of them. Was that rude? Was he already disappointing his charm teacher? Honestly Inti couldn't bring himself to care at this point. It was the first night, he could worry about that kind of stuff tomorrow.

One such conversation he popped into was a quartet of students, and not because of the subject matter but because the cute girl with matching white hair to his seemed to have some misinformation. Inti was a sudden presence beside the group, piping up immediately.

"Hm? They didn't run out, there's a lot of those jelly-things all over the hall," he said, smiling like he'd just done the girl a favor. He didn't stick around for her thanks that were sure to follow, making his way over to the food laden tables to gather a plate for himself.

Once his mission was accomplished, his dish a broad assortment of food he'd never seen nor heard of before (with a few familiar flavors thrown in just in case), it was on to step two: sit down and eat. He wasn't picky in general, and he wasn't about to start being picky with tables of all things, so he just zigzagged through the dining area until he spotted a free space. As it turned out, the first that caught his eye was a fairly open table pushed toward the wall with an Egoist sitting at it. A lot of the Egoists were very easy to remember given their unique body types. He'd been paying attention to a lot of them, as the only Egoists he knew looked more or less like normal people. This Egoist Inti definitely recalled boarding. Ears and tail like a serpent, but gills like a fish... he looked cool. And he was about to get a handful of Inti, as the Inca sat down at his table.

Oh, right. Manners.

"Do you mind?" Inti asked, smiling brightly. He glanced down at the chopsticks in the aquatic boy's hands, and being woefully under educated about foreign cultures Inti tipped his head curiously. "What's that?" he asked - then blinked, realized he was speaking in Quechua and wondering if the boy had even understood his words, and continued on with another question. "Quechua? Latin? Erm - Chinese?"

---

---

THREE DAYS BEFORE DEEP COVER INFILTRATION

James tapped his fingers on the metal table in the middle of a dull concrete room. His handlers were to arrive with instructions straight from high command. It seems he was needed once again for some dirty job. He thought about his next assignment privately. Multiple reasons popped into his head from assassinating troublesome nobles, gathering intelligence about some obscure foreign experimental project, or some other task of similar nature.

His handlers entered the room and placed a single piece of paper on the table. "Memorize this."

James did as he was told, he read the paper twice over and handed it back. One of the handlers then brought out a lighter and burned the paper in-front of him. He then asked, "Permission to ask a question sir."

"Granted."

"Will I still be given a 'parent' for this mission?"

"This detail cannot be disclosed at this time. However, if you are approached by a parent from the institute, the challenge phrase is "Top of the morning", the response is "Perfect day for a spot of tea"."

"Understood, I've memorized the phrase."

'Parents', the institute's name for handlers in the field. Despite James' flawless record, they still felt the need to monitor him. It was exhausting, but it kept him razor focused on his task. It will be no different in Bermuda.

---

PRESENT DAY

Irksome.

There were too many people around. James walked around, constantly reminding himself to smile and look like a proper student. The niceties, the pleasantries, the annoying minutiae of social interactions were all irksome. He came here to do a job, not play house with children and go sightseeing.

There were very few things that James liked about this assignment. Riding the Queen Titania was definitely something he liked and so was being able to dress like a bespoke gentleman instead of a beggar or some random servant. The tour was more insightful than amusing, but he laughed and smiled all the same all for the sake of keeping appearances. However, as he continued to walk with the tour, he looked around him and for a moment, his convincingly good fake smile disappeared. He realized that he'd never had anything like this before. Even in his earliest memories, he was a spy and an assassin. How delightful it must be to be ignorant of the shadows surrounding you.

He caught himself frowning and quickly looked straight ahead and fixed his smile. Eventually they reached the Hall of The Greats, students were mingling once again. He joined in the 'fun' and began to slowly walk around and take in the sights and sounds while eating the odd treat here and there until someone bumped into him from behind. His hat was jostled off of his head and onto the floor. James looked behind him only to find a shorter woman with black hair dressed in some oriental cloth.

"Pardon me, miss!" He shouted, she then apologized right after, “Ah! Sorry, I didn’t mean to run into you."

James then picked his hat off the floor donned it on his head, "No no, it's no problem. See, good as new!"

---

_@Vega7285

“Would you like some food, dear?” asks Akilah as she guides Salim into the grandhall. Salim nods, stumbling into the fancy interior. Wanderlust fills the eyes of the young boy, for he has not seen anything this awe-inspiring before in his life (aside from his short-time on the airship). The music was also a nice touch as well, but Salim has one task in mind - food. The boy did not eat much on his way towards the school and so was dying to see what food was being served. Arriving at the food-area, Akilah grabs a plate and a few utensils. While plenty of fancy foodstuffs was being offered, Salim had no care for them. All he wanted was what he knew - Biryani, Tabbouleh, Kofta, etc. He also had gotten accustomed to other foods as well like jam on bread, Papoutsakia, Tomatokeftedes, Shkembe, and more. The standard method of operation was simple: Salim points out what he likes and Akilah will place it onto the plate, simple as is. After gathering foodstuffs, both Akilah and Salim walk themselves to the tables, happening to sit near Jeanne.

Now seated, Salim starts to chow down fried green tomatoes, Biryani, and anything else that he could use his hands on. Of course, there were a few foods, like soup, that would be physically near-impossible for him to eat. As Akilah knows, Salim is quite a special person when it comes to fine-motor dexterity. And so, when it came time that the boy wished to eat his Avgolemono, Akilah grabbed a spoon and fed Salim. Akilah sat close to Salim, spooning into the soup and then moving the spoon to the mouth of Salim. Likewise, Akilah also had to ensure that Salim does not physically harm himself while eating food on his own or being fed. Involuntary body movements, resulting from Salim’s rare neurological disorder, were constant and that often placed great stress on the poor boy’s body. It did not help either that this was a heavily crowded place and Salim was not someone to enjoy such a place - enhancing the risk of such movements.

“Careful now, dear. You don’t want to harm yourself,” Akilah notes as she carefully watches Salim grab some Tomatokeftedes on the table. Salim’s left whole arm twitches and moves nervously. When the boy makes contact with one fritter, his fingers struggle to properly handle and grip one fritter. Akilah clasps the boy’s left arm, stabilizing the involuntary movement.

“Don’t rush yourself, dear,” Akilah says softly as she also grabs the back of Salim as well to make sure Salim’s body does not give away to heavy convulsive movement. Now that Salim is stabilized with the aid of his caretaker, the boy focuses on grasping the fritter. He does so after a few tries and manages to successfully move the food into his mouth.

“Would you like to go somewhere less crowded?” Akilah asks Salim, understanding the boy’s great dislike for such a crowded place. Salim shakes his head, denying the request as he continues to eat with struggle.

---

@Dog

Her eyes idly scanned the crowd. Good enough it seemed. Not like she had anything too specific to look out for. None that stood out specifically to her anyways. Jeanne will probably have to deal with all of them being trouble for her later on.

Another student sat at her table, her eyes twitching immediately at the sudden entry. A child barely grown out of his napkin it would seem. He even had his own nanny fussing over him. Mon dieu, it was easy enough to believe he still wears diapers. He must be either the second coming of Christ, or a student the Academy to show off to people to garner some sort of public sympathy.

"I had thought the Academy runs on a strict meritocracy." Jeanne spoke, loud enough for the boy to hear him. Her sandwich was cut carefully on the diagonal, as she picked up a piece and continued. "I see they also take on charity cases. Ah their parents must be proud of their prodigal child. Must be easy preying on the pity of others."

Jeanne took a bite out of the sandwich and savoured the taste of the vegetables, meat and some other dry crumbly cheese. It was not bad, the food. None rivaled the taste of home but these were reasonably good.

---

Excellent, the older teen was the amicable sort, she wouldn’t need to waste both of their time with unnecessary pleasantries, they could get right down to business just as she preferred. Unless specified otherwise, she would continue conversing in her native tongue with her fellow Germanic polymath,

”No apology is necessary, Herr Steiner,” she paused for a brief moment, as if calculating the best words to pick for steering the dialogue to suit her goal, ”I have taken notice of your study in the Polymathy Major of Mesmerology, and while those less informed merely scoffed said major off as nothing more than the art of charlatans, I think otherwise, Herr Steiner.”

Franz was able to sense that there was sincerity behind the younger girl’s stoic tone, she really did take him and his studies seriously, much unlike most others. Given the reputation of the Konigsmahne house, the magnitude of praise did not go unnoticed.

”What is scientific progress if not heralded by a mind open to all possibilities? An overly conservative mindset will lead to stagnation and thus, the cessation of progress. So with that said, Herr Steiner, I think it’d be in our best interest to ally ourselves. You’ll need a resourceful patron who’ll take your studies seriously, and we’ll very much welcome a prodigy on our side. What say you?”

In her single-minded pursuit of her goal, her purpose, she tunnel-visioned the great hall to just Franz. In Lucretia’s world, there was no one else but him and herself. As such, the fact that a youth from Mughal (and his groupies) was scouting her out remained unnoticed.

---

“That is a very wise position given the history of your house, Frau Konigsmahne. I take your praise highly.”

Franz was not so unobservant. He kept keenly aware of what eyes were on the two. Although he felt relatively safe speaking in German, it was better to be certain of it and stay away from eavesdroppers. Of course, he also didn’t want to make that precaution known to his company, he was just supposed to be a student here after all. “We should continue this conversation over some food, don’t you agree? I have not eaten since we all got off the ship.”

Franz politely motioned her to follow him as he went to a nearby food table which was out of sight from Kalil. Despite making the trip over, Franz did not put much on his plate. Quite simply he wasn’t that hungry.

“Now, back to the matter of allies. Germany and Austria have been famously good allies to one another, particularly during the Futile war. Off the merit of that alone, I would be more than willing to give my allegiance. However, we are no longer at war and we all enjoy a long reign of peace. So I see little reason for the formality of alliances here in Bermuda of all places.” Franz was being dishonest. He was well aware of the continuing tensions and would still appreciate an ally. But throwing around words like that was a quick way to rouse suspicion.

“That is all just semantics though, I would be more than happy to accept. Did you have any projects in mind?”

---

He accepted her praise, good, very good. This would mean she was progressing nicely toward her goal, ja? There’s no other way to see it. This sense of accomplishment was enough to curl a small smirk at the side of Lucy’s lips, she had always been the type to worship efficiency in all things, including social networking. Yes, what is socialization if not means to an end?

”But I’m not hungry.” Lucy bluntly stated with all the subtlety of a super dreadnought flying over a city, completely oblivious to the lines in-between Franz’s offer. In her mind, this act of gathering food and eating them was an unnecessary distraction. The moment she realized that Franz wasn’t going to change his mind, her little smirk turned into an annoyed frown as she followed after him, perhaps with more gusto than necessary.

As expected, she didn’t procure any food, she wasn’t hungry after all. The white-haired girl (im)patiently waited until Franz was done gathering his food and could finally continue the conversation, ”I am pleased that you can see reason, indeed our nations come from the same root,” She blinked once when he mentioned of no need for alliances, but visibly relaxed when he made it clear that it was merely semantics, so he’s basically saying yes, wunderbar.

”The project of Mesmerologist Polymathy itself of course,” As always, she went straight to the point, ”Enlighten me with your knowledge, Herr Steiner, provide me with the information so I may convince my family to be your patron.

---

A house like Konigsmahne desires to know the secrets of Mesmerology. There were two kinds of attitude to Mesmerology, an ignorant disrespect or a desire to know it all. The latter was a key reason Franz kept himself studying this profession. But he found himself only chuckling at this girl’s request for all the information he could provide. Such a thing would take him days to fully explain, and likely months to ensure the subject was understood.

“You ask for a considerable amount, Frau Konigsmahne. It is certainly too much to disclose here given the time and the amount of people around. For now, I will say that Mesmerology is the study of the mind and how to bend them with applied Formulizations. That in itself would be more than enough to garner the patronage of powerful noble houses, I imagine. Don’t you agree?” Franz left the question open for a bit as he took a small bite of his food.

“However, I am unsure that the patronage of a noble house is very beneficial to me. I have no need for money or access to more academic literature. I struggle to find a way that this collaboration is very beneficial to me.” Franz left a pause for a bit. He knew exactly what he was going to say next, but he wanted it to appear as if he only just thought of the idea. “There is... one thing. I have heard rumors about an Egoist defect gaining residence in Germany. An Egoist with allegiances to the Occident would be very beneficial to my work. Would the Konigsmahne house be able to provide me with such an Egoist to study? Provided with that, I would have no issue sharing my findings with Germany.”

---

”Of course, that’d be unfeasible, I’m merely asking just enough to give something to the house, a sort of pitch one would give to a would-be patron.” She certainly wouldn’t go as far as actually taking up the discipline, she had her own studies of Technologism to pursue among other reasons.

Fortunately, it seemed Franz understood that notion and explained just enough… although not nearly enough, she still needed one crucial piece of information, ”Indeed, I agree… assuming that the discipline actually holds tangible, measurable results, can you assure me that it is so, Herr Steiner?” She stared directly into his green eyes, being all ears to his answer of this particular question.

That stare made her following frown all the more obvious, only the truly dense of dense wouldn’t notice that she found his unappreciation of her offer to be frustrating, ”I find that to be highly unlikely, sir. Any aspiring Polymath can benefit greatly from patronages… With a patron, Franz could get all the resources, materials, and assistants he could want, who couldn’t benefit from those? Of course, the fact that his pause was fabricated went right over her head. Regardless, she listened to his offer.

”So, you essentially wish for information, She deduced, taking a moment to think, ”...very well, I’m sure I’m able to procure information for this Egoist defector.” In fact, it was also in her best interest to find out more if this defector was a potential saboteur to Germany, it’d be mutually beneficial to accept. ”I accept your offer, you have my words, as long as I have yours.”

---

Franz smiled at the way the conversation was progressing. Before, he was unsure if the rumors of the Egoist defect were even true. Now he had one of the most powerful families on his side to find her. Fantastic.

“I assure you, frau Konigsmahne, the discipline of Mesmerology is worthy of respect. Despite the reputation it has received from conmen and frauds, it is far from a madman’s pipedream. I have no trouble in assuring you it holds results.”

“As far as your suggestion about patronages, I have long been able to supply myself with enough to conduct my research. But that Egoist, that would be a benefit indeed. I am willing to give my word.”

Franz held out his hand waiting for a hand shake of agreement.

---

Excellent, no unnecessary pussyfooting, no pointless distractions, right straight to the core of the matter, Deutsche Effizienz vom Feinsten. ”Then it is done.” She held out her hand to shake his, returning the gesture of what she did moments ago.

”Now then, if you excuse me, Herr Steiner, I have business to attend.” Letters to write, correspondences to contact, so many important matters to attend now that she had made progress. With that said, Lucretia proceeded to stand up from the table and walked away, leaving Franz to enjoy his meal in peace.

After all this time, she still hadn’t noticed the pipe-smoking youth stalking her, although to be fair, he was somehow wrapped up by a group forming around him.

---

”Until we meet again, Frau Konigsmahne.”

What an odd interaction. Had she really sought out Franz this early in a party just to inquire on his profession then leave abruptly? Perhaps she had a mission like him. Of course, the possibility of other students working for national interests did not escape him. But maybe, he was just overthinking it. Still it wasn’t as if he was disclosing any information he wasn’t comfortable sharing publicly, outside of his interest in the defector. But some risks need to be taken for progress.

Speaking of missions, he had seen a yellow eyed boy during his trip to the food table. As much as he wanted to treat some lady to a dance, it was best he pursued that first.

Finishing his meal was no issue, Franz had only loaded it up with the equivalent of one dumpling anyway. He unnecessarily cleaned around his mouth with a napkin before getting up from his seat. Franz then began making his way toward the boy and his maid.

Le Bang Kieu

Higashiakemi Ryuuko
東明見 竜子

---

"Oh by the way... You're Lê Bằng Kiều, aren't you? You're quite famous, you know."

Bang paused, taking a little too long to register the girl and the reputation that came with her. A cautious stare before he loosened up with a smile to match hers.

"Only for good things, I hope." He extended a left-sided handshake, before realising she was carrying his soup and drawing it back. "Ah. It's a pleasure to meet you too, Ryuuko."

Misgivings aside, she was far more amicable than what he'd expected, given all the gossip. She was doing him a favor. It was only fair for him to return the good feeling for now.

"My apologies, I'm usually able to manage these things on my own. New school nerves, I suppose!" He chuckled.

Ryuuko on her part didn't seem to realize the slight pause that Bang did before responding back to her. If she was being observant as she would at times, she'd probably noticed. Regardless, she's too elated due to the excitement of meeting someone new(a significant one at that) at the moment. She put the bowl on the palm of her left hand, the heat easily bearable due to her carapace, and used her right hand to make the casual gesture of waving off the apology.

Of course, she knew that she had a reputation of sort considering what they publicized about her back home. The Japanese love their smear piece on anyone they deemed as a "mere" non conformist, let alone a person that, arguably, can be called as a traitor to the country... Not that she cared about that.

"Haha, mostly good things, yes! They called you a hero, you know. And I can see why, considering what you did in that accident!" She nodded before continuing. That was, at least, what she had heard based on the highly publicized news of the event that made Bang who he was known as publicly.

"And no worries! I can definitely understand that. It can be a bit unnerving getting into a new school and such what's with the uncertainties!" She replied, her smile remaining on her face. "Especially a school such as this one where everyone is someone with a reputation, I guess. Anyway! Let's put this soup on a table first, hmm? Wouldn't do to keep you from your meal!"

She gave Bang a nod and a toothy grin at that, before looking around to spot an unoccupied table. Upon finding a nearby one that was placed beside a wall, she pointed it out to Bang. "That one okay with you?"

"It is," he nodded, cane tapping as quickly as he moved. The comment about the accident sent a quick twitch across his mouth, and he directed his attention to the table. A quick glance made sure that these seats were suited for Egoists with tails. He pulled out a chair for the girl before taking a seat himself, sighing with the release.

"Thank you," he said, meaning it. "I hope the night's been treating you well. It's quite a party, isn't it?"

Ryuuko followed Bang to the table, being careful not to spill any of the content of the bowl. She then put the bowl down on the table as Bang pulled a chair out for her before taking a seat for himself. She then made sure that the bowl was at Bang's side of the table.

"Thank you too." She said with a smile, nodding in thanks at Bang's gentlemanly politeness as she took her seat. It was comfortable enough to sit on despite her tail, the organizer had been sufficiently considerate as expected. "Quite the party indeed, if not rather extravagant, haha! The tour was fun enough too, so it has been a pretty good day for me. I hope the same's true for you as well? How have you been finding things to be so far?"

She was absorbed enough in the conversation, forgetting at the moment that she still haven't got a meal for herself. She put an elbow on the table, her right hand under her chin as she looked at Bang while talking.

"Exciting, nervewracking. Sure feels far from Hanoi. All these different polymaths gathered in a single location... this may change the course of history for entire nations, don't you think?"

The fingers of his right arm flexed habitually as he caught sight of a group across the room, the one with the girl in the nice dress. There was a twinkle in his eye. "Look, they're already getting along."

Ryuuko contemplated Bang's words for a brief moment, covering her lips with the back of her right hand which where under her chin. Then she nodded, returning to her previous pose.

"Oh yes. It may well change the course of history for many indeed!" She nodded, and then made a light smile with her eyes slightly narrowed. "Hopefully for the better, yes? Hopefully." She chuckled lightly at that, more to herself than to Bang, then she shook her head casually. "Nah, never mind that. Anyways..."

She then turned to look at where Bang was gazing, seeing that the previous group of two had now became a group of four instead. "Oh? Interesting..." She took another brief moment as she thought to herself. Well now, that is quite the gathering there. Hmm... Those are... She did not really recognize who the two extra additions were. She felt like she had seen the green eyed Occidental young man before, but not the white haired young lady. After that brief contemplation, she remarked again to Bang. "Indeed. They seems to be having an amiable conversation, aren't they? How nice, haha."

Bang observed her gaze, gauging her reaction. "Do you recognise some of them?"

At Bang's question, she turned from looking at the group back to Bang. "Yes I do." She nodded lightly. "The young Occidental lady is Valeriya Zhukova from Russia. She's... Well, I've heard people call her a warmonger due to her... field." Then she shrugged casually before continuing. "Of course, I don't know if that is true, haha. Anyway, the tall one with the turban is Kalil Gharbi. He's a Dynamicist, something about manipulating heat... As for the other two, can't say I recognise them all that well..."

Then she grinned, a bit mischievously, the action causing her sharp shark-like teeth to be quite prominent. "And how about you? Anything you know about them, Mr. Bang?"

"I'm not familiar with the Dynamicist... ah! That's that Agnarrson fellow." He brightened even more. "I used to read his travelogues when I was hospitalised."

"Agnarrson? Ah, I see. So that's the name of the other man. I think I've definitely heard that name somewhere before..." Ryuuko paused and observed how Bang seemed to brighten upon talking about the person. She smiled, pointing casually with a finger at Bang's soup. "Sounds like you want to go talk with them, hmm? Maybe you should finish the soup and then go? Hehe." She finished her words with a light giggle.

"R-really? You think that's a good idea? Oh, right, the soup..."

The boy rapidly ladled a third of the bowl into his mouth, feeling a spicy warmth fill his chest. As he exhaled with satisfaction, he noticed that Ryuuko's side of the table was bare. Bang, you fool!

"Gee, I've taken up a lot of your time. Did you want to get something for yourself to eat?"

Ryuuko nodded in response. "Of course! At least for me personally, I've always found that taking the initiative to talk to people is the better thing to do!"

She watched as Bang started eating from the bowl of soup, waiting politely. Then, Bang pointed out that she haven't gotten anything for herself. Whoops, funny how easily one can forget about things huh?

"Oh! Right, I totally forgot about that!" She laughed, rubbing the back of her head with her right hand, looking embarrassed. "Silly me, and I'm feeling pretty famished too. Yeah, I think I'll get back to exploring and finding something for myself. And no worries, I've enjoyed our conversation! Thanks a lot for your time, Mr. Bang!"

She winked casually at him, smiling, before then standing up from her chair. "Well then, I'll leave you to enjoy your soup. Hope I'll see you around, Mr. Bang. Until next time!" She nodded and waved at him casually before turning around to leave.

That was a really nice encounter! But now. I really reaaaally need to get something to eat, haha. And with that, Ryuuko returned to exploring the hall, focusing on the task of finding a good dinner once again.

---

The plan was simple. Listen to Koni-something and gather some sort of information on her. Kalil was lucky, all things considered. He could have ended up with a worse target than a quiet-looking German princess. He could bank on the likelihood that whoever she was going to talk to was hopefully not German. And so there he was, conspicuous turban and all, munching on a few Turkish delights while trying to key into another person’s conversation. The greetings so far were German but surely he could pick up a few words. Life decided he couldn’t have it too easy when suddenly-

“I see someone else here cannot stand this...fruit juice either.” Kalil glanced to his side to see a diminutive Eastern Occidental girl in a beautiful dress. A smirk on a pretty face, a welcome sight at any other time. He schooled his features as she continued.

“Back home in Russia, this would be regarded as barely worth of being called alcohol. I take it your homeland also prefers stronger beverages? But where are my manners? Valeriya Zhukova. A pleasure.”

The merchant’s son inclined his head back, keeping his gaze levelled at emerald eyes. A polite smile crept on his face. “Ms. Zhukova, this ‘grape juice’ as you call it, would insult every reputable distillery I knew in Dhaka. We prefer our alcohol clear and fiery where I come from.” He winked and nearly offered a hand but was quickly sidelined by-

“Sorry to intrude, but I couldn’t pass up a conversation so close to my heart,” Another Occidental popped out of nowhere once again. They were multiplying! “When I heard you mention the poor selection,” The man nodded at Valeriya, “I thought…What if we brewed our own? Oh, and the name’s Kiran Agnarsson, from Iceland.”

Kalil kept his smile up and nodded to Kiran, laughing politely. How many people are going or hamper his stalking? “I think the faculty would quickly disapprove of such a venture but I am good at hiding such things.” He gestured to the pipe clipped to his side. “I know where to get privacy for forbidden ventures.” He let the insinuation hang in the air.

Kiran grinned at the easy agreement, and the offer to contribute. “Marvelous. As for the faculty...Well, I, or someone else, could subtly ask around at the adults’ compound...I betcha some of them are suffering for a good drink as much as we are. Could even use their help for cover up. Or just keep it among the students, I’m fine with either. As long as who the source and dealers are is hidden it’ll probably work out.”

Valeriya covered up an expression of mild surprise as someone she was more familiar with, if only by reputation, intruded on the conversation. Agnarsson, was it? The mobile suit inventor was something of an interest to her, if only because of his field of work. All other considerations aside, he was somewhat of a direct competitor to her own powered armor designs. In terms of reputation and competition, that was something she’d have to deal with eventually.

Still, it was something of a surprise she hadn’t encountered either of these gentlemen on the cruise over. For the duration of the previous month, Valeriya had been doing her best to blend in as an ordinary student while on the ship: socializing, establishing contacts, and working on her designs as best she could without a workshop. That, and getting other students into her bed, male and female alike. Not strictly within her mission parameters, but the fact of being independent without adult supervision for the first time plus teenage hormones meant that plenty of students on the ship had done the same. Of course, protection had been used. She’d been curious, not stupid.

“Already?” Valeriya quirked a brow in response to Kiran’s statement of privacy. “I’m impressed. Still, I would not mind going along with this. The ship alone already lacked proper alcohol. I know little of brewing, but some research should fix that. It would be an interesting...side project.”

That wasn’t a lie, either. While Valeriya wasn’t intending to get drunk, a shot of vodka or any other firewater to calm the nerves helped every once in a while. And alcohol on hand would be very helpful in plying other students for information or otherwise…

“I do know some of the how, at least for brennivín,” Kiran commented. He was also considering the cost of ingredients, whether it’d be suspicious to order them to be delivered at-bulk from the warehouse, and exactly how many stills they should set-up. He’d trust the Oriental fellow to handle the place and secrecy, while Valeriya was eager enough to refine the brewing so their product would be something worthwhile.

Kalil nodded along, keeping an ear still extended to listen to the conversation he was wanting to actually listen in on. He found it hard to pick out words in another language he was not fluent in. He decided he had some time, the night was young after all. A mercantile conversation like this one he could definitely chip in on.

“Start early enough and demand would be high. With the amount of teenagers here-” He gestured around the room with his sweet-filled hand “- they would be salivating at the chance for a quick way to get drunk. I have methods to keep this discreet, so as to avoid alerting any do-gooders or other entrepreneurs. Quick and easy money could be earned for those willing.”

His mind raced with possibilities already. They needed a brand, untraceable to themselves but recognisable as a way of advertisement. They had methods of production, they were all polymaths after all. Geniuses and prodigies willing to get money and booze. Method of transfer? Use of lockers, a new locker and combination released to the student populace by word of mouth. Weekly? Fortnightly? Who could be trusted? Kalil glanced around at his fellow schemers. You never knew when you would be roped into a bad business deal. He waved his hand in front of his face.

“Pah, but the night is young. And I did not get out of my father’s teachings just to waltz into another mercantile venture. This is school but we are at a party, we should relax, no?” His voice strained slightly at the mention of his father but he continued on. Best to divert conversation for now. He would continue but he felt another presence enter the conversation.
“Excuse me,” Another voice, this time in Latin, interjected itself. A finger was pointed towards Kalil’s sweet-filled hand. “I was looking to try some of those, but the kitchen ran out. May I have one?”

Before he could whirl around, another wild voice appeared then disappeared just as quick. "Hm? They didn't run out, there's a lot of those jelly-things all over the hall."

How many people would want to butt into the conversation? This was getting ridiculous. Kalil just stood there, darting his eyes between the Turkish sweets and the tan-skin girl now within the group.

Kiran raised an eyebrow at the intruder. Well, even if Gharbi hadn’t suggested they enjoy the festivities, this bafflingly forceful girl would have put an end to their previous conversation. It certainly couldn’t be true catering was so lacking - if one needed further evidence but their own eyes, a boy passing them by informed them that the unlikely scenario described by the girl was indeed untruthful. Then, she must have simply wished or needed to speak to Gharbi in particular. But why was the question. Kiran decided then and there that she, and perhaps some of the others as well, would require observation.

Nazca’s own forceful insertion into the conversation was hampered, but not thwarted by the unhelpful… help from the random passing student.

“False news. I will have to see it to believe it,” she replied, mostly to her target, rather than the passing man that was already long gone. She kept her hand out for a Turkish Delight. “May I?”

It would seem the tan-skinned girl had no shame. Nonetheless, she would force the conversation into Latin. Who spoke Chinese in the western hemisphere, anyway? Rude tourists?

The rudeness of the girl took him out of the atmosphere of the group and Kalil glanced around. Where was she? One second he had been hearing some far-off, vaguely familiar German nearby and now, nothing. He was supposed to take an easy stance but he could no do anything if he did not know where she was. He appraised this new tan-girl, seeing a way out, switching to Latin for her sake.

“Ah but how rude of me to hoard the sweets like this.” He placed all of the sweets into the outstretched hand and mock-bowed. “And thus the unknown lady has all the treasure I can give her. If I can be excused, I feel myself wanting to partake in a treat of my own.” He smiled, patting the pipe on his side.

“Ah, thank you.” Nazca graciously accepted the handful of sweets and proceeded to pop one in her mouth to enjoy on the spot. Yep, it was a Turkish Delight.

“Oh, but where are my manners? Nazca Whitehall. Sorry for the intrusion, consider it a favor owed,” she added, with a pleasant curtsy to accompany her apology, her eyes meeting Kalil’s, and then Valeriya and the Icelander. “Pleasant event, yes? Perhaps I can help you with that as a recompense?”

The Bengal pet smiled but shook his head. “Indeed it is a pleasant event but no need for favours at all. I am Kalil Gharbi, these are my fellow alcoholics Mr. Agnarsson and Ms. Zhukova. Pleasure to meet you Ms. Whitehall. Now if you’ll excuse me, I will have to take myself to a more private venue to relieve my throat. Good doctor recommended the vapour to soothe it. I will meet you all soon.” He bowed curtly and made to step out of the circle.

Well, well. What had him in such a rush? Valeriya noted Kalil had been looking around the room for something during the latter bit of that conversation. Interesting. Something to keep an eye on him for now if she could, and a mental note for later.

The newcomer...well, wasn’t exactly a newcomer to her. Valeriya and Nazca had already met on the ship. But this was something of a surprise, as well. Back on the ship, Nazca had been largely stoic. Well, the girl still seemed rather unfazed in appearance. She’d certainly never been that forceful before.

“Oh, don’t worry. Nazca and I are already somewhat acquainted. We’ve met on the ship.” Valeriya waved Kalil off, occasionally tracking him from the corner of her eye as she nodded to Nazca. “And how have you been, then?” She swapped to Latin, gesturing between the two still gathered with her.

“Nazca, Kiran. Kiran, Nazca. I’m somewhat acquainted with both your work in one fashion or another. Are you with each other’s?”

Nazca immediately moved to intercept Kalil as he left. “Mr. Gharbi, Mr. Agnarsson, Valeriya. A pleasure. Now, that is actually something I can help you with. You see, the cutting-edge doctors I know back in London recommend against ‘vapours’ to relieve the throat. In fact, throat lozenges are by far more effective.” She blocked his exit. “I must protest for your own health.”

The man sputtered, looking almost incredulous at the girl blocking his way. Alright. That did not go as planned. Time to bring the big guns. He leaned into Nazca, putting a hand on her shoulder as he did so, whispering in a low voice. “Ah, I must admit, despite myself wont for company as well and beautiful as yourself Ms. Whitehall, I do need to excuse myself. I’m afraid it’s a need for relief that is the reason for my leave. I’ve found myself eating much too many sweets today and my stomach is floundering like a dying elephant.”

Kalil leaned back and winked, making to step aside whilst turning around towards the other two, giving a short bow before turning to leave.

Kiran raised both brows at Nazca’s continued aggression. It was almost comedic, how she hounded Kalil, while he - for some unknown reason - desperately attempted to leave while making any kind of excuse he could seem to come up with. Kiran had no reason to force Kalil to stay here, and in a moment of sympathy attempted to maneuver himself in such a way that would prevent Nazca’s advance and possibly allow Kalil to escape. Meanwhile, he also picked up the previous thread of conversation offered by Valeriya. “While I am familiar with yours as well, Valeriya, I cannot say the same for Nazca’s,” Kiran admitted, switching to Latin.

“However, if we are to discuss our projects, I suggest we sit down to dine,” Kiran pointedly waved the untouched plate of meat he’d been holding in his left hand for the duration of the conversation.

Nazca only responded once she was confident she had Kalil boxed in. “No. But it’s a good suggestion. Why don’t we all sit together and talk? And I’m sure we can find a solution for that throat problem, too.”

“Ah, let the poor man smoke if he would,” Kiran said. “I’m sure he’ll return shortly in any case, and then you’ll have all the time you like to pursue him,” he attempted to placate the girl. Truthfully, if he were in Kalil’s place, he wouldn’t willingly go anywhere near such an unreasonable girl. Whether her motives were truly suspect or she simply lacked manners and possibly wished a more personal engagement with Kalil, Kiran thought he owed some assistance to a would-be-ally.

Nazca just tilted her head, feigning ignorance. “You’ve eaten too many sweets, so you must partake in the vapors? The practice originated in my homeland, and it will ruin your life if taken in excess. I must protest.”

Valeriya just looked amused as Nazca desperately moved to keep Kalli ensnared for whatever reason. Well, all things considered, this worked just fine for her. So she’d go along with it.

“Of course. Dinner does look good.” The blonde Russian looked upon the various international cuisines with interest, especially the Oriental dishes. “Let’s go find some seats, then.”

Kalil watched this all unfold with a sort of gobsmacked expression on his face but at least gave a face of thanks to Kiran. Alright, why can’t people take the hint? Were all foreign women so infuriating?

He let out a breath and stepped backwards. “I am going to leave to relieve myself in the men’s room, I will be back shortly. Thank you for your leave.” He quickly pivoted and nearly tripped on his own feet before hurrying out of there as much as his pride would allow him. That Nazca was someone to look out for. Now if only he could find his goal?

Nazca huffed as the Mughal man disappeared from view. She had come onto him hard, yes, but that was not a reaction she had expected at all. Was he just a pansy or was he hiding something? Probably the former, but duty meant she would have to continue investigating. Bluntly, if required.

“Well, that was a shame. Sorry, what was your name again, Mr. Icelandic?”

“That was eventful,” Kiran muttered to himself in his mother tongue. To Nazca, he replied in Latin, “It’s Kiran, miss-in-heat,” tone amused as he gave her a pointed questioning look. “Ah, but let’s take a seat,” he shook his head, an awkward smile still in place, as he proceeded to find them some empty seats. He’d intended to suggest they find some privacy upstairs, but with Nazca’s pugnacious advances, he preferred to remain in public, where it’d be easier to distract or elude her if needed. After he found an appropriate place, he set his plate down, laid his suitcase next to the chair, sat down, and proceeded to cut his meat into pieces.