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_{Collab with @Yankee}

Unsurprisingly, everything he had taken onto his plate was at the very least delicious. Some had flavors that he hadn’t expected while others perhaps paled a bit compared to the ones back home, but there was nothing that would keep him from clearing the plate. He munched along with a satisfied expression, but slowed his pace as he noticed someone approach his table. It took him a few moments to actually recognize the other student, but that was still pretty good in Shou’s mind. There were two thousand of them here on the island after all, and he hadn’t spoken with the Incan Polymath beyond an enthusiastic introduction when he had first boarded the Titania.

With that knowledge, the language clicked quickly for Shou and he twirled the chopsticks around in his hand as he shifted mental gears. While he was familiar with Quechua, it didn’t come to him as naturally yet. It was a good opportunity to practice, though, and he shook his head at Inti’s question. Before he even got a chance to respond though, Inti had already moved onto other questions. Waiting patiently for a chance to interject with a faintly amused smile, Shou leaned back into the seat’s backrest.

“Quechua is fine. Been awhile, need the practice anyways,” he responded in Quechua before he nodded towards the seat. “For your questions. It’s fine, the table’s plenty large. These are…” Shou trailed off for a moment, and quickly realized that he had absolutely no idea what the word in Quechua was. “Chopsticks,” he said in Latin before he returned to Inti’s native tongue. “Utensils from home,” he explained before he picked up another piece of food and popped it in his mouth. “Inti, right?” He asked after his mouth was empty.

"Right!" the boy, Inti, replied. He looked completely chuffed to be recognized, a grin spreading across his face. "And you are Zheng Shou," Inti said as a matter-of-factly. He had taken to heart all of the names the students had given to him in reply aboard the Queen Titania. Of course there had been some students that did not deign to respond to his greetings, but most had at least given a polite response with their name in kind - this was how Inti recognized them, not by their reputations but their very first meetings, however brief.

Inti leaned back in his chair a little. "Chopsticks," he repeated. Another new thing to commit to memory. "We use forks in Tawantinsuyu, when we don't just use our hands." He wiggled his fingers playfully for emphasis, but ended up using a utensil anyway. As he munched on a few of the samples of food he'd gotten for himself, Inti glanced out at the hall and the other mingling students before looking back at Shou again.

"I think that's gonna be the coolest part of this. All the different people from all over the world, and all the things they can do." Smiling widely, he went on. "And all the things they bring with them. For example, this thing!" Inti jabbed his fork into one of the food items on his plate, one that was unfamiliar to him, which happened to be a wurst. "It tastes amazing but I have no idea what it is!"

"Many do in the Middle East as well," Shou remarked after snorting lightly at the other boy's gesture. Looking around as Inti spoke again, he found himself nodding along. "Agreed. Even if I can't travel, I can meet the people," he remarked as he watched his peers. All of them prodigies in their own right with claims to fame, and Inti was no different. Although as he turned his attention back towards the enthusiastic boy, it would have been easy to forget that.

"It's German. Don't know how someone thought to stuff a ground animal back into its own intestines," Shou explained as he shook his head slowly. While he was no food historian, some of the food he had come across and sampled in his travels were.. baffling. Not that his home was free from its own share of questionable dishes. “You haven’t travelled much? I’ve only heard a bit about what goes on in Inca,” Shou admitted with a slight shrug.

"If you're curious, I can tell you everything I know," Inti said. He'd been surprised at Shou's explanation of the food, but not enough to stop him from eating it. "But anything outside of Qusqu is..."

He trailed off, furrowing his brows in thought. He wondered to himself just how much he actually knew about the Inca Empire as well. It would be good to compare his knowledge and the knowledge of an outsider, though Shou had already mentioned he didn't know much.

"This is the first time I've left my home," Inti explained, a soft chuckle leaving his mouth, "not having traveled much is understatement. I... don't know how common that is? Or uncommon? You know about the Middle East and Germany, and even Tawantinsuyu if only a little. How many places have you been?"

“It’s probably pretty common,” Shou reassured Inti. “Most Polymaths seem to be kept close to home. My family is just a bit strange about it,” he explained before he set his chopsticks down and closed his eyes with a smile. “From Japan to Spain, I’ve been lucky enough to sail all along the southern coasts. A bit of sailing in the Mediterranean as well. My family wouldn’t let me on any journeys to the New World though, so I only know of it through books and stories I’ve been told.” Perhaps he was being a bit boastful, but Shou was quite proud of his days spent at sea since he turned 12.

"That's amazing! Visiting so many places and going so far from home on a boat." That was what he'd meant by coasts and sailing, right? Surely it was. "Your family, do they go with you sometimes? Are they all like...?"

Inti motioned to the other boy's fins and gills, not quite sure how to phrase his question exactly. An entire family of aquatic Egoists sailing the seven seas sounded like great fun, and Inti wondered if that was the case.

”Usually one of them was in charge. Aunts and uncles mostly, but I did go sailing with my brothers once,” Shou answered with a wistful smile. He looked down at his unique features as Inti trailed off and chuckled for a moment. ”Fishy?” He supplied for the other boy before he shook his head. ”Not all, but most. The elders always say it’s because of our great Ancestor. Maybe it’s just because we’re a family of sailors though. All the stories we’re told draw us to the oceans, and our Formulizations reflect that.”

"Yes, Fishy," Inti laughed, "Ah, that sounds so nice. Traveling with your family, moving around freely..." the Inca sounded almost wistful, despite his young age.

”What about you though Inti? Us Egoists are pretty easy to read, but I admit I’m not sure what you specialize in.”

"Me? I am a Dynamicist," Inti said. A simple, somewhat lacking response compared to the excitement he'd shown while listening to his tablemate talk. There stretched a moment between the two boys where silence reigned as Inti failed to elaborate, but then he suddenly blinked and titled his head like he'd just remembered something. Finally, he went on.

"It's not flashy on the outside, but I learned that Polymaths see formulae differently. For me, it makes the whole world glittery. Sometimes too much. Everything, even you and around you - " he waved his hand, making a crude outline of Shou. " - has this... shimmery kind of surface. It's a bit hard to explain." For the first time since they'd started talking, Inti looked a little embarrassed that he couldn't describe his vision the way he wanted to. To compensate, he leaned in a little closer to Shou and said, "but I could show you how it works?"

The drawn out pause made Shou wonder if Inti’s specialization was something he was meant to keep a secret. If the other boy had gained entry to Bermuda, it couldn’t be anything that was simply ordinary or something to be ashamed of. Could it?

Nodding his head as Inti spoke again, Shou looked down at himself at the gesture. Even now he could see qi crackle and race through his body with every small twitch and flex. ”I’ve heard that before. Some peers complained about how Egoists and Technologists had solid references.” Nudging his plate off to the side, Shou propped his elbow on the table as he leaned in. ”That’d be great.”

"Okay, hold on." Inti's eyes flickered around Shou's frame as he considered taking hold of whatever mysterious force he was perceiving around the well traveled Egoist. Eventually the crimson irises trailed upward to the ceiling, where elaborate chandeliers hung illuminating the hall. The nearest one hung overhead, and Inti nodded to it while murmuring, "it's a little bit far, but I think I can reach it... And then I should be able to..."

He stared up, raising his hands to cradle something unseen. With one arm he reached up higher little by little until his fingers just grasped at something. Gently he closed his fist around it... then twisted it sharply.

The lights on the chandelier began glowing brighter, and in a chain reaction the increase in light spread from fixture to fixture. The dim corners of the hall and the darkened balcony were awash in light until a short "oops" escaped Inti's lips. His hand fumbled like he'd lost his grip on whatever it was he was touching, and the lights around the hall flickered briefly before they settled back to their original illumination level. All was normal again, though the overhead chandelier took a little extra time to correct itself.

"Ahaha... well..." he retracted his arms, shaking his hand to rid it of invisible stardust. "It's basically like that."

Shou followed Init’s gaze upwards and raised an eyebrow as his attention settled on the chandelier right above their table. The other boy couldn’t possibly specialize in either light or electricity could he? One would be far too valuable for any government to simply let out of their sights. Bermuda might have been a collaborative work between nations, but if he was here? Other nations must have also had their own among the students and staff.

It seemed like he manipulated the flow of electricity as Shou was forced to squint a bit at the sudden spike in brightness. His ears twitched as a yelp from somewhere in the hall caught his attention, and Shou looked around before he settled on another Egoist that seemed to be shielding their eyes. “Oops, indeed,” he chimed in with a slight laugh as he clapped and then looked back at Inti.

“Almost like lightning. Coming from Inca though... magnetism?” Shou guessed after all the lights had returned to normal. Not with any scientific basis to figure out what was going on, but more so because it was one of the tidbits he remembered about the New World.

"And you said you only know a little about the empire!" Inti laughed, nodding his head to confirm Shou's guess about his specialization. "You're right. I'm still learning about it myself too." Which, of course, was one of the many reasons Polymaths were invited to this place. Hone their formalizations, make their countries proud.

The little lightning stunt cast eyes in the boys' direction, as anyone that had looked over and seen the dark skinned Polymath with his hand in the air sent suspicious or disdainful looks over at the two of them. Optimistic, Inti ignored them - though he hoped he hadn't gotten Shou on some kind of social black list over a parlor trick.

“There’s much more to learn about your home,” Shou replied with a smile of his own. If he cared for any of the looks being sent in their direction, he didn’t give any indication. “Be back in a bit,” he excused himself as he stood and picked up his empty plate.

The party continued on in the balmy warmth of the tropical night, as Bermuda’s new residents formed cliques and groups, sharing banal topics as they grew accustomed to new acquaintances and recalibrated themselves to separate the fiction of reputation from the truth of character. Few dared still to stride onto the dance floor, even as the automated orchestra continued on unabated, swinging into a brighter, more joyful composition after leading in with a brooding start.

A couple of encounters drew eyes, of course. Who could not notice the youngest of the Konigsmahnes so brazenly approach that hack Mesmerologist with apparently no guile or disdain regarding Franz’s wasteful studies? The sheer forwardness of a certain Abya Yalan princess towards the bankrupt scion drew murmured comments as well, a couple more brazenly youths only held back from propositioning that obsessively-aroused lady by their cooler-headed friends. It was all in good fun though, and outside of a few terse words between fellow Polymaths (a natural result of mixing alcohol with ego), nothing was made of it.

Harmless fun, in the end, something doubtlessly settled with an awkward apology the next day.

But then, the lights flashed. Surging with incredible brightness, increasing with a radiance that blinded. Stark shadows filled the great hall, a lightning crack in slow-motion, before fading in the next. By then, the perpetrator’s hand had lowered, only a few amongst the crowd having actually cast their gaze onto their surroundings rather than onto the intensifying glare, and by then, causation was only circumstantial.

Who could perceive such indistinct Formulae, after all?

Who cared, when such an act caused one light bulb, perhaps possessing some defect compared to its brethren, to shatter, raining its shards down below? More inconsequential incidents, nothing that would do any lasting harm. But for the quick-witted, misfortune too beget opportunity.

---

“And who you might be?” Salim asks, directing his question to Jeanne. The voice of the boy was quite an anxious one. Intimidation, bullying, and all sorts of aggressive mannerisms were a common item in Salim’s life. There was no escape from it, forcing Salim to more or less grow a thicker skin to simply absorb all the verbal abuse thrown at him. And so, when Jeanne throws some shade at Salim - all the boy can do is simply just listen and not think too hard about the insults. Salim continues to eat with struggle, slowly calming down as he ever so slowly gets more situated to the current climate.

“Haah?” Annoyance showed clearly on Jeanne’s face. “Who the hell are you? Rude of you to ask my name without giving yours.”

“Ah, I swear these people have no manners.” She swept her hair from her face, sighing. Her sandwich half eaten, she laid it down to sip at her drink.

“Salim. Yours?” the boy asks once again, that is, asking for a name. There was not much else to ask from her - yet. For now, Salim awaits for some kind of answer, if the French gal would give away her name.

Merde, he’s not shutting up.

“Jeanne.” She put the glass down, putting her hands on the table. It was only now that she looked at Salim square in the eyes. “What do you want?”

As Franz approached, he felt as though he could cut the tension with a knife. What had happened that had made these two so confrontational so early on in the party? Certainly neither was drunk, or at least made their best attempts at hiding it.

“And my name is Franz. Nice to meet you both, you two seem to be making fast friends.” He walked past them both and pulled up a chair on the other side of Salim.

“Oh, hi Franz!” Salim speaks with a more friendly tone than with Jeanne. Salim quickly follows up, “Jeanne is mean to me.” Salim says plainly. Quite direct but Salim is still very much a child and basic in social skills, even if he is a genius in his own field of study.

Franz had a short chuckle to himself. This was going to be quite an easy mission with how quickly the boy was willing to throw his thoughts out there. “Well how dare she! And I thought you two were getting along swimmingly.” Franz was having fun with the conversation at hand. He peers over to the bully in question and raises his eyebrows a bit in surprise. How the hell did this kid gain the ire of the famous Jeanne de Bordeaux? It was a very unfortunate situation to be in to be sure.

“Fuh~” Jeanne smirked at that. “Ah, so I was right. The boy does wield pity like a weapon.”

She remained tense however, and had abandoned her food and drink, leaving it in front of her. “I’d have bid you to beware, Monsieur Franz, but I have no doubt you are familiar with snakes in the grass.”

Salim understood half of what it was said. He never really was exposed to anyform of higher reading or forms of speech. All he knew was more “simpler” sentences and wording. Afterall, he spent most of his life in a village. “I don’t understand,” Salim said in a confused tone, revealing a bit of his lack of complex social skills.

Franz had another small laugh. “Madame Bordeaux, it's a pleasure to put a name to the legend. I will be sure to keep my wits about me. Though I’m sure you mistake a snake for a common hedgehog.” Franz leaned over to Salim and talked directly to him. “A piece of advice, watch out for this one. She has claimed many burnt eyebrows in her studies. Sometimes her own, most times someone else's. Only a fool wants to be on her bad side.” He said it all in a friendly tone. He was trying to befriend Salim, but he knew better than to make an enemy out of Frau Bordeaux.

“Bah, do not bother with the child. It will continue to be coddled, and expect to be coddled. It won’t cross paths with me any time soon.” Jeanne glared at Salim’s maid before turning back to Franz. “Pity him with your bleeding heart and soon you will be shining his shoes too.”

With a slight bow to Franz and only Franz, Jeanne excused herself. She had better things to do than suffer the presence of the boy.

Franz gave a bow of his head back to Jeanne. What an interesting woman, Franz thought. There was a certain boldness and lack of restraint that he could really respect. It is a side of him that Franz would like to use more often, if duty didn’t necessitate facades. Nevertheless, he would hope to gain an ally like her in future.

Franz returned his attention back to Salim. “Kindness is a lesson some of our fellow academics need to learn, wouldn’t you agree. I will reintroduce myself, I am Franz Steiner of Austrian fame. I am aware of the long disputes between the nations we come from. However, I would like to assure you that such conflicts will not be carried over to here. I hope we can see each other as just fellow academics. That would be nice, no?” Franz held out his hand for a handshake.

Salim nods, agreeing to Franz. The boy gets a napkin and wipes off a bit of grease from his hands and palms before making contact with Franz’s hands. As always, this takes time and a good deal of struggle from Salim’s side, but he manages on his own luckily. “It's good to meet you, Franz. I see a good friend in you,” Salim smiles as he shakes Franz’s hands.

Franz had already noticed the boy's condition but had seen it on display with the handshake. "Thank you, I can see a good friendship as well." He took a pause before continuing. "By the way, I have noticed your condition. I imagine it would be quite difficult to create Formulizations in such a state. I hope you don't mind my curiosity, but what is your academic specialty? It must be quite impressive to be at a disadvantage like this and make it into Bermuda nonetheless."

“I’m an industrial engineer. I do not use formulations all too often. Heavy-industrial machines are my tools instead - I can show you an example later!” Salim tells Franz, shortly letting go of the handshake.

Franz gave out a laugh. “I certainly hope you are not operating heavy-industrial machines. Somehow I find that less believable than Formulization. Though I’m sure you meant that you have other people under you to operate them. You strike me as the planning sort.”

“Factory workers, yes. Human labor is very important to my work. Someone has to use the machines,” Salim notes.The boy cannot operate any form of machines or else he will find himself likely dead in a workplace accident.

Mission completed. Franz began to rise from his chair seeing a conclusion to the exchange. “As much as I would love to chat longer, I was hoping to have a few dances before the night is done. You must excuse me. However, before I leave I would like to let you know that there are ways around your condition with current Technologism. I am sure you can find someone to help you out if you so desire.” Franz took a quick pause to think before a devious smile crossed his face.

“In fact, I know just the person. She is short, very short with silver hair and green eyes. I am sure she would love to help you out. You will just need to address her by the proper and polite German greeting, ‘good evening fraulein Konigsmahne’. But you must not let her know I told you this, to disclose the name of a friend who kindly gives advice is very impolite in German society.”

Salim simply nods to the fact, keeping such information in his brain.

Franz finally took his leave as he began approaching the dance floor. He has had far more lessons in music and dance, than in the art of combat. It was about time he showed those talents.

---

---

Ah to think such people were here as well. Perhaps it was a mistake coming here. After all, surely none of the nations that sent their best here thinks everything was swept under the rug after the war ended. And if they were, then they were more fool than she thought. Jeanne herself had no interest in past feuds, but she was no fool. Man tended to hold onto grudges, letting it fester until they can poison the object of their ire.

The snake cannot gaze upon himself, and thus concludes there are no snakes in the grass.

Seeing Franz set her thoughts on her own reputation however. What would have been her reputation amongst these people? Do people know her name at all? No, it was not as if she had did much. Perhaps overblown rumours by ignorant peasants and empty headed nobles who knew only to think with their penises. Perhaps they knew her only as the maker of furnaces, blissfully unaware of how nuanced the creation of such things were. Jeanne was not the type to blab however, so they wouldn't have known even if they were aware of their nuances.

The light flickered, her hand went immediately to one of her lower shirt button. With a pop, the sole lightbulb extinguished itself, and normalcy seemed to return to the hall. Her hand, almost on the verge of a deathgrip upon the button, instead feigned to adjusting it instead. Continuing as if nothing happened, she went to the sides of the hall, where less people mingled. Perhaps she should get a fresh drink now.

“That’s good,” Hana replied. “I’d hate it if your hat was trampled.” Yeah, there’s a good opener. At least she didn’t have to feign the awkwardness at the meeting. “I feel like maybe it’s too crowded in here, if I’m bumping into people like that.” She smiled disarmingly. “It’s nice to meet you, all the same. I’m Yu-” she caught herself, and corrected the order of her name. “Hana. Hana Yun.”

James smiled back, “It seems you’re still getting used to some of our western idiosyncrasies...” He held out his hand offering it up for a handshake, “... My name is James, James porter. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Yun.”

Hana took the offered hand, and gave it a firm shake. “The pleasure’s mine, Mr. Porter. You’re right about getting used to the idiosyncrasies. I do try to keep things appropriate, but some things are too habitual.” She paused to move aside and let some other students pass. “What do you think of this island so far?”

James replied, “Interesting so far. However, it’s all a bit overwhelming. There’s so many people, some of whom are quite noteworthy.” He then asked her the same question, “... And you? Are you enjoying this introduction to the island?”

“I’m pretty sure every single person here is noteworthy in their own way. As for me, I’m quite impressed with how Bermuda seems to reflect all the cultures of the world. I suppose the purpose of the academy is to be a place for every nation’s citizens to meet. And show off, of course. Still, it’s interesting to see the entire world in miniature.”

She wandered a bit toward some of the refreshment tables, motioning for James to follow her. “Hope you don’t mind if I look through the food on offer, speaking of. It might be better for us to find a table instead of standing around, anyway.” She took some time appearing to browse the food, while mostly keeping her attention on her conversation partner. Would it be rude to just ask about his field of study? She’d leave it off for now. “Anything you’d recommend? I could suggest a few things from the Orient, if you’re not sure what to trust.”

“I’d defer to your better judgement on things from the orient, as for what I’d recommend…” James paused and browsed through the tables, his eyes stopping over the pastries. He reached over and grabbed a blueberry muffin and said, “Blueberry muffins, you can never go wrong with those.”

He looked at Hana and wondered why this girl suddenly took an interest in him. He then asked, “I take it you haven’t had much luck in finding anyone interesting in this soup of people until you bumped into me?”

Hana nodded and added a muffin to the collection of things, mostly sweets, that she had on her plate. “There’s a lot of people here, and I’ve had a few conversations here and there. I’m not sure if it’s hard to find someone interesting, or more impossible to find someone who isn’t interesting. Isn’t this one of the largest gatherings of Polymaths the world has seen? Hard to say anyone here isn’t going to be at least a little unusual. Though...I suppose by the same token, if everyone is exceptional, it’s just the new normal, isn’t it?”

“Exceptional and normal is all in the eye of the beholder in my experience…” James took a bite out of the muffin he had in hand, being deft and careful enough to not let the crumbs spoil his attire. “... That being the case, I’d like to ask, what’s your story if you don’t mind me asking? Surely you must be quite the polymath to be here."

Hana moved away from the table, to at least allow others easy access to the food while she continued the conversation. “I don’t mind. I’ll spare you the life story, as I’m guessing it’s more the talents and study that you’re curious about. I’m from a school of egoism that’s borrowing ideas from European technologism. In my case, I work on producing medicines and chemicals in my own body, instead of some of the more traditional pursuits of the idealized self. Maybe it’s that spirit of cooperation that caught the eyes of whoever put this academy together?” He paused. Who did put all this together? It’s probably an international collaboration, but still, worth looking into.

“If you don’t mind my own curiosity, what sort of work do you do, as a Polymath?”

James then brought a few vials out of his pockets, “What a coincidence…” he smiles at Hana, “I too work with chemicals. They’re quite complicated little beauties, these are a new brew that I’ve been working on. They’re meant to be turned into vapors… You could say I’m studying to be a… Perfumist.” James wanted to kill himself, he hated this cover. Perfumes are a nuisance at best and nauseating at worst.

He took one of the vials in his hands that he had labeled. It was a dreaded concoction of ‘so-called’ beautiful scents. “Here, have a whiff-'' he removed the cork that kept the liquids in place and the moment fresh air mixed with the concoction it started to change color and vaporize. With a flick of his finger, the vapor then surrounded Hana and a sweet smell of mint and lavender filled the air.

“A perfumer,” Hana exclaimed, clearly not expecting the answer. “I never would have guessed, though it can’t be just your talent for mixing scents that brought you here. That’s quite a nice scent.”

“Well, I did say I’m quite a chemist. Though, I doubt I’m as good as you.” James took another careful bite of his muffin. James was about to tell his fake backstory, then the lights flashed bright white. James averted his gaze quickly, his eyes scanning all around him. Then one of the lightbulbs popped, his training overwhelmed his rational thought and he felt for the mask hidden in his coat. However, as suddenly as it happened, it all subsided. “Bloody hell! what was that?” His other hand had instinctively reached for one of the other vials - a more lethal concoction, but there was no point in a place like this.

His thoughts began to whir to life, almost forgetting that there was someone with him, ’could it have been electric dynamicism? It can’t be, that was banned by the Geneva Convention.’ He stared for a moment at the blown light bulb, then looked back at Hana, “Are you okay miss Yun?”

Hana was still busy blinking the stars out of her eyes. Much like James, she had flinched from the light show, conveniently enough causing her to miss his own unusual reaction. “Ah, I’m fine. Just dazzled is all. To pick the conversation back up, we’d be going about things in different ways. I can make anything I can dream up, abstraction permitting. Every creation is its own alteration of the self, so I can’t just make anything, either. I focus mostly on medicine. And speaking of, I should see if anyone needs first aid.”

Hana bowed politely in her own custom. “It was a pleasure speaking with you, Mr. Porter.” She takes her leave, looking around for anyone who she might be able to help with some swift action of her own.

Between the students crowded in the hall talking over each other and the automated band constantly playing it's loud and enjoyable tune, it was easy to miss that the little light stunt had destroyed a light bulb at the opposite end of the large space. And really, it was just one light bulb - but eventually the information did reach Inti. The Inca Polymath hummed along with the music as he finished up his plate, awaiting his conversation partner's return. Those nearest to Inti and Shou, the only witnesses to Inti's gesture at the time of the light phenomenon, eventually left for other areas of the hall as others filled the spaces they left. Teenagers swooping around the area, mingling and perhaps even carrying out some nefarious schemes, but most of all just talking. Bragging about themselves, gossiping about others, and wondering over what had caused the shattered bulb.

Hearing that, Inti instantly knew it must have been the power surge. Was his control so lacking? His focus so poor? The boy bit his lip. With no one around to be disappointed in him, Inti took up that role himself and let the feeling roll through him. He thought he should probably go and make sure no one was hurt at the very least.

Inti pushed away from the table and stood up. He cast a quick glance around for Shou, but didn't see the other boy on his way back quite yet. Shou had been knowledgeable and kind, he was fun to talk with so hopefully he didn't take exception to Inti abandoning the table without a word.

Once more the dark-skinned, light haired boy threaded his way through the crowd, though less enthusiastic this time. As he began making his way through the crowd, his movement slowed. He realized that he didn't know what area of the hall the bulb had actually broken in. It was a large venue, and staring up at every chandelier seemed very inefficient. Inti sighed, scrubbing at the back of his head. So much for accountability...

Figuring that things must have been alright considering the party was still going and no one seemed to be causing a noticeable fuss or calling for medics, Inti wandered the hall a little more. He had considered returning to the dining area, but the instruments had changed their tune to a more upbeat music that drew him closer to the sound's source. His feet brought him to the edge of the dance floor, where he slipped around a pillar - er, wait, no that was a person. Compared to some of the Egoists present the other teen's height wasn't all that impressive, but he still had a foot over Inti. He also looked sort of eager to dance, if Inti was reading his expression correctly.

Dancing, huh? Inti knew what it was of course, he wasn't quite that sheltered. He'd danced around with his siblings before during down time. However, the music lent itself to a certain style of dancing. It was called... ballroom, he thought. Not something he'd been remotely trained in. An Occidental type of dancing. It has hard to get a feel for it when so few students dared to take to the floor.

Inti looked back up at the person next to him.

"You want to dance?" he said, then paused while he processed the question he'd just asked. Laughing lightly at himself he spoke up again quickly. "I meant you look like you want to dance. Are you good at it? I think long limbs are supposed to help with that kind of thing, right?"

Ryuuko wandered around a bit after her meeting with Bang, browsing through some of the available delicacies being served in the hall. Whenever a fare took her fancy, she proceeded to sample just a small plate or bowl of it, finishing it quickly and returning the empty dish to a waiter before moving on to sample something else. Varied as these delicacies were, all the ones that Ryuuko took shared a few points of similarities: They all consisted of either small pieces of ingredients that can be swallowed without the need for chewing, or ingredients suitable enough to tear apart with her unique shark-like teeth. Definitely it would be a rather unusual scene if anyone were to observe the way in which Ryuuko consumed her food, as there were generally very little actual jaw movements being done; she mostly just keep the food on her tongue to taste it for a while before then swallowing them whole, with little to no chewing or biting involved.

It was in the middle of enjoying a small bowl of simple yet delightful crab bisque that she noticed something weird happening with one of the chandelier. It was some distance away from she were, not too close nor too far. The flashing lights, sticking out as they were, unsurprisingly took her attention towards it. It was still bright enough even at this distance to force Ryuuko to narrow her eyes to shield them from the glare. Yet before Ryuuko can think much more of it, the bright flashing disappeared as suddenly as they had appeared, but evidently not without leaving something in its brief and potent wake. Just a single one of the bulb shattered after the flashing had stopped, sending shards downward.

Quickly analyzing the small happening, Ryuuko thought to herself. Well, as weird as the circumstances are, that doesn't look like it's really of any particular concern but... Might as well take a look. And thus she decided to head over. She didn't really have anything other to do and her hunger had been somewhat sated for now, and who knows, unlikely as it might be the probability was still there that she might be able to find something interesting. She quickly finished the bowl of bisque, passing it over to a waiter before moving towards the direction of the aforementioned chandelier.

She moved at a good pace, perhaps a bit too quickly in fact considering the location and the number of people within it. It was typical of Ryuuko to be so focused on a single thing in mind at the expense of anything else. "Excuse me, coming through. Sorry." she muttered quickly as she moved pass people standing in the way or moving at a slower pace towards the same direction as she were. She even lightly, very lightly considering how strong she was compared to non-Egoists, pushed people from her path here and there as she moved.

"Pardon m- hmm?" She was about to push pass another individual, her left hand already lightly touching the person's right shoulder, when she noticed who the person was. A girl around her own age, some height shorter than she was, wearing the traditional clothing of Korea. In Ryuuko's mind, this was yet another lucky encounter. She recognized the girl well enough, this girl was yet another one of those fellow students that were on her list of significant individuals to watch out for after all. She quickly pulled her left hand back, smiling lightly as she looked at the girl while muttering an apology. "Oh dear! My apologies, miss. I was in a bit of a hurry to check things out after that impromptu light show." She giggled casually before resuming, her light smile turning into a wide toothy grin. "I hope you'll forgive my sudden interruption! It is just that it is such an honor to meet you, Ms. Yun. I'm Ryuuko. Higashiakemi Ryuuko. And I happen to be quite impressed with what you had achieved, as a fellow Egoist."

---

It was about time the music picked up, Franz thought as he approached the dance floor. It was finally sounding like something people actually dance to. Whereas a waltz is just some weak excuse for a meek noble boy to court a lady. There was time for all that to be sure, but that came after the real dancing. Real dancing, in Franz’s mind, is a spectacle. It was something to draw heads and entertain. Nobles were often too caught up in imitations of civility to ever try it. This would be thoroughly entertaining.

"You want to dance?" Inti said, then paused while he processed the question he'd just asked. Laughing lightly at himself he spoke up again quickly. "I meant you look like you want to dance. Are you good at it? I think long limbs are supposed to help with that kind of thing, right?"

Franz turned to look at who was addressing him only to see… nothing again. He would have to get used to that at some point if all of his colleagues were going to be around his age. Looking down he saw a shorter boy from the Americas with peculiar white hair. ”Haha, good at it? I am the best at it. Certainly, I am a better showing than what is on display right now.” Franz gestured toward the borderline empty dance hall with an open hand. He exclaimed it in a comical manner, but anyone could hear the confidence and pride behind his voice.

Franz called out to the music constructs in the hopes that it would reach their operator. “A high tempo, if you will please!” He then waited for the change in song to begin before addressing the Americas boy again. ”I will catch your name later. But for now, I will show you a true display of Occidental dance.” Somewhat unexpected, he then walked off toward a nearby table.

Franz took off his suit jacket and tie, placing them over a chair and tucking it in. He then reached his hands up to check his hair was properly tied back in the small tail of hair he usually had. Finally, he unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt. The first was the one that is used when putting on a tie, it was only logical that it would be undone. The second was for show.



On his way back, Franz began rhythmically clapping to the beat of the song for other students to pick up on. He waited for more and more to pick up, to usher him in to take the stage.

Franz began with a whirlwind of leaps around the floor, focusing on gaining height and emphasizing the spectacle of his ability while keeping his form composed and graceful. However, the primary purpose was to create a ring in which he would use as a stage.

The middle section of his performance was somewhat less notable in terms of physical capability. The moves used were grounded and more showed graceful but precise moves. Eventually, this lead him into the centre of the stage where he would perform his finale.

Franz couldn’t wipe the smile from his face. He couldn’t lie, he enjoyed displaying a complete lack of humility. For his final move, he wound up for a big spin. He continued into pirouette a la seconde. One turn, two turns, three turns, he wasn’t stopping. Seemingly for as long as the music continued and as long as students kept clapping, he would continue to spin.

Finally, as the music began to close, Franz ended with a normal triple pirouette into a final pose. His arms out to his sides with palms pointed toward the ceiling. Only then would he try to catch his breath. The piece he danced to was not very long, but the energy he had used during it was immense. Franz held for a few seconds after the piece had ended.

As Franz stood up out of the pose a spot of dizziness hit him, nothing that wasn’t manageable though. Headspotting during turns helped with all that immensely. He began walking back toward his jacket and tie to put them back on but not before passing the Americas boy. “I believe its your turn.” He called while patting him on the shoulder, then continued on.

---

---

After a successful first contact with the so-called ‘Universal Genius’, the Konigsmahne heiress aimed to find a private place where she could write a telegram, perhaps one of those opera boxes would do, then after that’s done, head to the post office to send it. According to her deductions, she could accomplish all of these while still having enough time to return to the ball before the feast period is over. Indeed, rather than spend her time here doing nothing useful now that her goal was accomplished, she might as well use the hours for something worthwhile.

The silver-haired young girl lived each day according to a predefined mental schedule and any deviation from said schedule would be considered wasted time, this was how she dealt with life and it brought her a sense of stability and order in an otherwise chaotically abstract universe. Her peers might judge her as being humorless and boring, but let the dogs bark for they knew not the lion’s burden.

However, despite all of her special gifts and quirks, Lucy was still a human like any other, her body wasn’t altered in any way unlike egoists and thus, when the sudden shifts of luminosity from the bulbs up above were reflected on her retinae, she instinctively tilted her gaze up out of instinctual curiosity. How peculiar… was this intentional?

”Nnngh…” Then the light grew much too bright for comfort, prompting her eyelids to close, shielding the Deutschscion’s most valuable sensory organs, while one of her hands as it went up to perch on her forehead. This happened in nigh-perfect sync with the faulty lightbulb’s shattering demise as its transparent shards rained down upon the thirteen-year-old.

Alas, if only Schwarzritter was one of those fabled automata, it could’ve taken the initiative to protect its charge like a knight should, but as it stood, twas’ merely an extension of Lucretia’s will and a limb is only as good as its wielder.

---

What was wrong with that girl? Did she have some sort of agenda? Was there a target of some sort on his back? Kalil fidgeted with his pipe, side-eyeing the other polymaths around him. His certain criminal connections were not widely known, not many peered into the internal affairs of the Mughals, as secretive as they were. As far as anyone should know, he was merely the genius son of a far off eastern merchant. Could any of these other “children” carry an agenda of their own? Spies, criminals, murderers?

The merchant scion gripped his pipe tighter and breathed out, releasing the air he did not realise he was holding. If he was to stress like this every time a female cornered him, he would have grey hairs at 20. He needed to take his own advice and relax. Once an (in)sufficient amount of space and people were put between him and the madwoman, he began his search for his target. But this only set his thoughts aflame.

What was the point of him, a lowly merchant’s son, going for an Occidental noble’s daughter? What were the Bengals playing at? The brand on his chest itched at the thought. A reminder of Kalil’s debt and the futility of his thinking. No use wondering, only act. As is duty.

The lights flickered and the boy looked up on instinct, perceiving the formulae which struck across the air. Crackling but subdued. Thunder but no lightning. Eyes narrowed as an aberration of his own abilities had propelled itself across the room. This place was only getting stranger.

But before Kalil could cast his eyes on the culprit, glass bulged and shattered, hot metal pieces raining from the sky. A person underneath the broken bulb, back turned towards him. He lunged, arms reaching towards the silver-haired girl in a natural panic. His heart hammered in his ear as he kept his left arm shielding from the shards above, his right scooping the surprisingly heavy girl under him. But as soon as the moment came, it ended.

The young Bengal found himself staring at emerald eyes, the very same he was searching for. Well, this was convenient. Crimson liquid splashed down on her cheek and he wiped it away instinctively, eyebrows furrowed at the sight. He glanced down at his still raised shield, a rip down his white sleeves revealing a savage cut on his forearm.

Kalil snorted before the pain hit. ”Well, this wasn’t how I imagined I’d meet you, Ms. Konigsmahne.” At least he avoided butchering her last name.

---

For someone so naturally adept at crafting artificial tools, Lucretia’s body was as natural as a human could be, no cybernetic limbs like Bang, nor biomass modifications of Egoists. As far as her physical existence went, she really was just a 13-year-old German girl, one who was firmly on the smaller side of build too. Thus, the error fully lied on Kalil’s side when he misjudged her weight.

Perhaps twas’ a clue that his strength wasn’t as it’s supposed to be for someone his size due to all the opium he smoked? Perhaps the Bengal did something to make sure he remained a harmless tiger cub? Or perhaps it really was an honest mistake made in the heat of the moment? Regardless, for this split-second moment of danger, one couldn’t exactly afford to care about an irrelevant thing such as a young lady’s weight.

”...wha-?!” An honestly adorable yelp came from the usually-stoic girl when she found her feet suddenly being lifted off the hall floor, and in that sudden moment, her fight or flight instinct took over higher forms of thought. ”Schwarzritter, aktiviere!” The command was enunciated and it took the record of the loudest Lucy had been since she arrived here at Bermuda.

Upon the soundwave of its mistress’ voice reaching its audio receiver module, the metal “backpack'' floating beside the pair lit up with a rather ominous pale blue glow, pulsating light in the shape of a circle, then within the span of a few seconds, the thing unraveled itself via the Formulization functions already installed, copper veins gave life to the metallic construct as it transformed into a floating T-shaped drone a little more than twice Lucretia’s height, its shadow looming ominously over the Flametouched Virtuoso. Schwarzritter, Lucretia von Konigsmahne’s masterwork and personal guardian, in the ‘flesh’.

Normally, its mistress would immediately issue further commands, but this time, nothing came. It was left floating there like a silent observer, perhaps wondering just why it was so.

Of course, the answer lied with the aforementioned mistress. ”...e-... eh?” Emerald eyes blinked with creeping realization that her “assailant” wasn’t intending to harm her. He… was a fellow student it seemed, his features and turban screamed Mughal, and he knew her name, well… to be fair many people did, but it still didn’t answer the question just why he invaded her personal spac-

-by the Kaiser, he was bleeding!

”E… eeeh…? Ah… uhm…! Now finding herself in a completely ‘unplanned’ encounter and situation, Lucretia’s composure broke down as she was left stammering like a deer in headlights, the rapid shifts of her gaze repeating between Kalil’s face and his injured arm said enough. Why did he suddenly scoop her up? Why is he bleeding? Just what is going on?!

So many unanswered questions, so many uncertainties, she didn’t like this, not one bit, she wanted to return to a safe place, where order was maintained in a stable environment.

---

Chaos seemed to surround the merchant heir wherever he went. From Abya Yala to Dhaka to even here in Bermuda, trouble seemed to follow in his shadow. It was like a constant joke was being played on him and the people surrounding him. At this point, it was a wonder his lungs hadn’t clogged with the amount of nicotine and drugs he’d consumed to cope with it all.

But throbbing pain was nothing Kalil wasn’t used to. Unlike a currently panicking noble’s daughter, he had not been coddled even as a merchant’s son. As far as he was concerned, ‘tis but a mere scratch compared to the beating and branding he’d undergone. It would leave nothing but a small, faint scar.

Kalil stood straight, gently letting go of the girl in his arm. He noted the large floating metallic being near them which unfurled itself on Konigsmahne’s command. A frightening beast for sure. Perhaps this was were the riches were?

He mentally shrugged, ripping the bloody, torn sleeve away and wrapping it tightly around the cut to form a makeshift bandage. Such a waste of cloth but it was unlike this was coming from his own pockets. The Bengals paid for these clothes, as much as an object owned by them as he was. Once satisfied that blood would not drip-drop on the floor, he surveyed his surroundings.

It seems as though he had gathered an audience from his stunt. Unfortunate. Seems they’ll have to make a quick escape if he wanted to talk with her alone. He outstretched his hand and offered a reassuring smile.

”It seems as though it is raining with hot glass tonight, Ms. Konigsmahne,” Kalil started, ”fortunate that I was there to take a blow for you, yes? It wouldn’t do for a pretty face like yours to lose an eye from such a thing. But alas, I wished to converse with you beforehand. Perhaps we can continue this somewhere more private? You do owe me at least a conversation, no?” He jokingly pointed at his bloodied arm, some more crimson staining the white fabric.

---

”Uh...” It became apparent that the silver-haired girl couldn’t function well in sudden unfamiliar situations as she simply stared in silence after Kalil put her down, though her eyes were focused at the wound on his forearm, she otherwise kept still. It wasn’t like she couldn’t comprehend the notion of someone being injured, but considering the circumstances, a student suddenly scooping her from behind and then getting injured? The chain of events didn’t make sense at all, there must be something she missed here.

The gears of her mind turned, coming up with various hypotheses in order to make sense of things, to bring order to the chaos, if she could connect the dots then she could be at peace. Yes, this was of utmost importance. ”That bright light... a short-circuit in the electrical conduits? Short-circuit... that led to... oh.” A figurative lightbulb shone above her head, a perfectly functioning one unlike the one responsible for drawing Kalil’s blood.

Yes, it made sense now, a glass bulb shattered above her due to voltage overload caused by a fault in the wired network, then those shattered pieces of glass rained down upon her. She didn’t notice this, but this Mughalman did and he took it upon himself to shield her from harm at the expense of his own safety, explaining the invasion of personal space. He wasn’t an assailant, no, he was her saviour.

She knew what must be done.

Kalil could now see the composure returning to the petite girl’s face, no longer were her gasping breaths audible and no longer her eyes shifted from place to place, focused and direct just like when he observed her earlier.

”Schwarzritter, zurückkehren.” Upon her voice command, the iron construct ran one of its many installed formulizations to fold itself and within a few seconds, it became no more than a floating object in the shape of a backpack. With that done, she finally addressed the taller student, in Latin, the lingua franca of the academia, ”No, good sir, I certainly owe you more than a simple conversation.” She declared as she accepted his outstretched hand, shaking it, her eyes again returning to the covered wound on his arm, ”Our first priority is to go to the nearest infirmary to properly treat your injury, lest you run the risk of an infection. Anything else can wait, but rest assured, I will adhere to your request.”

She didn’t even wait for him to reply as she began leading him by his - uninjured - hand, out of the Hall of the Greats and toward the aforementioned infirmary, it seemed she had already memorized the route.

It might come to Kalil that the noble girl didn’t recognize him and never asked for his name, but as she said, anything else could wait, including introductions.

---

Even the best cunning merchant could not take a Konigsmahne woman from her set path. And thus the duo found themselves in the infirmary where a stern-looking nurse awaited. She took one look at Kalil’s bleeding arm and muttered about how idiotic some geniuses could be. Explaining the situation as much as he could but the fading adrenaline meant Lucretia had to fill in with what she knew (which was little).

They found themselves in silence after the nurse had finished disinfecting and wrapping fresh bandages around Kalil’s wound. The Mughal man rested his head on the pillow, occasionally glancing at the girl sitting beside him. They were alone in the infirmary, accompanied only by moonlight and the slow ticking of a clock.

Now that they are here together, what to do now? “You know what to do”? Bloody Bengals. Why give such vague instructions?

Kalil came to a sudden realisation throughout all this that he did not have a plan. Despite all his ability to “charm”, how does one charm what amounts to barely a teenager? He sat up, despite protests from his companion, facing the girl with a deep focus from his golden brown eyes. They pierced and struck, looking deeply into emerald orbs to search for answers. The same expression of a polymath figuring out complex equations, trying to find the lay of the world. Gears turned, seconds passed like hours, but he could find no answer. Nothing which did not sicken him to his core at least.

Criminal he may now be but that was only by association. By Allah he would not lower himself to scum. Kalil merely sighed, closing his eyes briefly to rest his mind. He extended his two hands in front of him, grasping the formulae which surrounded them. ”A little formula play to dismiss untoward listeners.” he quipped, most of the air circulating around the pair instead of outwards. It would last but a minute or two but would nullify most of the frequencies of his voice. Any listeners, even the nurse, would only hear muffled words from his own.

”I must confess, Ms. Lucretia Konigsmahne, that I sought you out due to your hallowed surname. Even in the depths of the Mughal Empire where I hail, I hear of the genius and wonder of your house. Your house’s creations and expert technologism is proven even in the youngest child, with your expertly made contraption over there.” Kalil gestured to the floating Schwarzitter, chuckling a little to himself as he did so. There were geniuses above geniuses after all.

”Ah, despite my label as a “genius” I am afraid I could never hope to replicate such a marvelous creation. But alas, I chatter too much. Forgive me, an old habit of my father’s mercantile ways.” The adopted heir grabbed Lucy’s hands in his own, breathing deeply. This was for his father. Swallow your pride for your father. ”I, Kalil Gharbi, heir of the Dhaka Trading Company, one of the largest in the lands under the purview of Shah Jahan, have come here seeking an ally. We seek inroads within the Occident, to facilitate trade of rich spices, textiles and silks. My father and his associates have sent me here as a way to skip over the Ottomans growing fat from the taxes on trade routes. I have been sent here to enrich the coffers of my betters through charm and wit.”

Come on, Kalil, half-truths mixed with lies. You must get through to the end. He spoke with melancholy and guilt, his grip tightening with shaky breaths. The heaviness in his shoulders could not be faked. ”But what I see in front of me is not someone to be charmed or outwitted. Alas, having seen your creation, I see a girl coming into being, someone I must admit to be better than a lowly merchant’s son like myself. I cannot ask of you, a lady of higher intellect and kindness than myself, for the sum I was tasked to fool out of you. A sum needed to fund our ventures to the Occident, an investment as part of our deal, to enrich both mine and yours for future expeditions. But alas, I was sent to find a greater sum than needed, as forced by my father’s associates.”

The final crescendo. You must sell this like you mean it. He dropped to his knees, head bowed with Lucretia’s hands still clasped in his. ”I must ask for forgiveness, my lady. Forgiveness for my missteps and planned deceit. I realise that I cannot, with full heart, cheat you of the investment that was needed. I will return to my father after this year as a failure, instead of deceiving a kindly, intelligent lady as yourself.”

He kept the tears from dropping. Allah forgive his lies for he is tormented by his actions.

---

With the combination of Lucy's single-tracked mind and extraordinary capability to retain information, it didn't take long for the pair to arrive at one of the campus ground's infirmaries, the nearest one to the Hall of the Greats to be specific. The no-nonsense nurse immediately went to work, professionally removing Kalil's makeshift 'bandage', cleaning and disinfecting his wound, before finally rewrapping the wound in real bandages this time around. That done, she assigned one of the vacant beds for him to rest, although with this kind of minor injury, he should be allowed to leave whenever he wished.

But of course Kalil wouldn't leave just yet, for this was the perfect chance to get an audience with one of the Konigsmahne, a noble house known to be notoriously difficult to appoint with if one didn't have friends in the high places.

As for Lucretia, the silver-haired girl normally would be taking her leave now as she was confident that the tanned student would be doing just fine, she still had a letter to write, things to report, and a ball to attend after all. If the circumstances were different, such as her finding Kalil already bleeding, she'd still help him get to the medical ward, but would have no issues to just hand him over to a nurse before leaving, not even introductions would be necessary, he was an injured stranger whom she helped and that'd be the end of it.

However, she didn't feel like leaving this time, perhaps beneath all the insensitively stoic exterior, the young prodigy had the capacity for empathy, even though she had difficulties expressing it herself. He had saved her from possible grievous harm, a spontaneous decision made without prior arrangements, he wasn't one of her family's bodyguards, he's just a stranger who happened to attend the same school as she, one of the two thousand Polymaths. Yet despite all that, he put himself in harm's way for her. This selfless act deserved recognition and she was the one who'd be most responsible to grant it.

Besides, she promised him a conversation and a Konigsmahne's word actually meant something.

The quiet infirmary under the moonlight of the evening sky provided the perfect atmosphere to have a private talk where each and every word would be heard, free from the ambient noises of a lively party and an automated brass orchestra.

While Kalil gathered his thoughts, Lucy decided to tinker with the backpack-formed Schwarzritter, ever the workaholic savant she was. This way, she could wait until he was ready while also doing something useful. Waiting for its own sake wasn't an ideal situation to be in for one such as herself.

His sigh prompted her to look up from her construct as her eyes focused on his face. She blinked once in curiosity when he declared his intention to formulize... the air? "Formulization of the intangible... hmmm... so he's a Dynamist." She concurred, an elementary-level deduction. "But for what reason? Oh, of course, privacy." Asking the nurse to leave her post would be unreasonable after all, another elementary deduction, solved.

With Lucy already planning to listen, she was all ears when Kalil continued speaking. So, even before he took the plunge to shield her from the raining glass, he was already intending to meet her and it was a pleasant coincidence that he saved the person he wanted to talk to. "So that's why he requested to privately converse after knowing who I am... Then indeed, humoring him was the least she could do. "..." When Kalil praised Schwarzritter, the younger student had a visible reaction, subtle it might be, the secluded nature of the infirmary meant it was clear to someone as sharp as him. The corners of Lucretia's lips curled into a small proud smirk as her left hand moved to pet the floating contraption as if it was a beloved canine companion, it's clear that she had emotional attachments to the drone.

She continued listening, uttering no words of her own so he could take center stage. It seemed he really admired her family a lot, despite coming from the Orient, rather unexpected and just made Lucy realize just how famous her family is, beyond what she expected them to be. Her eyes widened a bit when he held her hands, but then relaxed not even a second later, her rational mind reminding her that this foreign student held no ill will toward her, and perhaps, physical contact among acquaintances was part of his culture, just as it was for the Italians.

He finally introduced himself, Kalil Gharbi of the Dhaka Trading Company, hailing from the Mughal Empire, an Orient sovereign nation under the rule of Shah Jahan. To be honest, she never heard of him personally, but it wouldn't take a genius to see that he came from a prestigious merchant-prince background. So, he's seeking an alliance... just as she intended to ally Herr Steiner, perhaps? Although conceptually similar, the details were different, he wanted to expand his company's business into the Occident, without having to bow to the Ottoman Sultan, cut off the middle man so to speak.

That seemed reasonable enough, Lucy thought, of course a merchant-prince would want to expand his family's business, and if he was looking to expand into the Occident, then gaining the alliance of her house was the logical move. After all, the Konigsmahne held a significant amount of political power in the Iron Sentinel Empire, and Germany was considered the ubiquitous 'leader' of the Occidents for centuries now. However, this still didn't explain why he seemed so desperate, perhaps he would explain it in due time.

Her prediction proved true as he expressed that he was supposed to... gain a significant amount of funds out of the deal? "...?" She didn't want to offend, but it seemed he was making a huge deal out of... nothing really, it was public secret that in most - if not all - business deals, each party would try to leverage one another for their own interests, until an equilibrium was reached, it's a simple matter of reaching that sweet spot where both parties would benefit the most. She wasn't a businessman and even she knew that, it's among the very basic principles of economics.

As such, while Lucretia understood what he wanted, she couldn't comprehend why he needed to be so dramatic about it, going as far as kneeling and bowing as if he had murdered someone she loved. She... honestly didn't know how to tell him that it wasn't necessary. If he wanted to talk about a business, why didn't he just do it like normal? Take her talk with Franz for example, a simple introduction, discuss the terms of the deal, then shake hands in agreement, done. Was this... part of Mughal culture?

"I... don't really know what to say to that because as far I am concerned, you're someone who wants to discuss business with my family, representing your own family company. How can that be deceit? Of course enterprises will try to leverage as much advantage as they can in a deal, but only when that balance is struck, the deal can be signed. You are acting as if you had just committed high treason against me, if this is how the Mughals do business, then I'm wholly unfamiliar with such methods." She answered matter-of-factly, with a tone so stoic that one could mistake her for an automated voice box. She didn't urge him to stand up or release her hands, figuring he would have the common sense to realize that this melodramatic display couldn't achieve anything useful.

"So, for our mutual benefit, please rephrase your words in a clear, concise manner. I have things I must do and a ball to attend, Mr. Gharbi."

---

Well. Wasn’t she forward? To a boy used to the Mughal courts and trade, where flattery and drama reigns, such forward talk almost put Kalil off balance. German efficiency huh? He shook himself out of it. Well, he was getting the ins the Bengals wanted wasn’t he? He straightened his back, coughing into his hand to hide his not-so small embarrassment.

”Ah, well, the ways of the Orient are different from the Occident.” He could never recall how many lies and begging merchants he’d seen before. ”Let me be frank then, if I am so bold to take your words as an indication of wanting business. With an investment, lower than what I had been told to gather, you will be funding a direct trading expedition from the heart of the Mughal Empire into the Occident. In exchange for your investment, your house will gain a share of the profit from the sale of spices, silks and textiles, all greatly sought after in your lands. I will ensure that you personally give fair investment and receive a fair return. As for the methods in which our trading company will use to circumvent the Ottomans, certain native contacts will help in doing so.”

The mercantile prince had already thought over this offer in his head. A dimwit his father did not raise. Gather a sum, enough to pay his interest for this month and the next few. The Bengals could then invest within a black market shipment of goods using the gathered sums to get through Istanbul, using their own underground allies there to sneak the cargo to other fleets on a return trip back to Germany. Use the corruption within the Ottomans against them, pay off some dock officers and tax officials and you are good to go. Even now he could remember the exact amount of rupees needed for an Ottoman dock officer to “accidentally” stamp goods with an official seal and turn a blind eye. Mix it with a regular shipment of the same goods and most won’t notice an increase if spread across several fleets.

Upon entrance into Germany, it would be distributed and sold as normal legal goods at exorbitant prices. Kalil had hoped to win some sympathy with his pity plea but straight business could work too. Even if one shipment was somehow “caught”, there would be several others distributed across other trade fleets to be sold as well. Spread illegal additions out across several fleets and it would take a wider crackdown on shipping to catch such an increase.

Kalil stood, brushing off his pants and bowing slightly in apology. ”Perhaps if I was direct at the start, I would have been more successful. But alas, I understand that such decisions cannot be made in one night. I will await your response by the end of the month.” His sudden transition from weeping boy to sharp businessman could be confusing to some but this was the way of the merchant. Adapt and overcome while confusing your would-be client. But maybe his most confusing move would come next, at least for Lucretia.

”Perhaps we can be business partners and friends, eh Ms. Konigsmahne? I’ve never taken a piece of fallen glass for anyone less than a friend before. Perhaps friends who can dance on the floor together?” joked Kalil, extending a hand palm upwards, inviting the lady to a dance in the far-away music.

---

Once again, it seemed her deduction proved true, apparently this was considered normal in the Mughal Empire, to make a whole theatrics out of business deals. She wondered if they actually mixed the performance arts in negotiations, what a confusingly colorful society it must be. Well, when in Rome, do as the Romans do, and since Kalil was the 'guest' here, the burden of acclimatization lied with him. When he toned down the drama for good ol' straightforwardness, Lucretia found herself far more able to make sense of his offer.

Of course, if the deal would be beneficial to her family, she had no reasons to turn it down or at the very least, consider the proposition. "Ah... so he wishes to reroute the Silk Road to skip the Ottoman Empire, therefore bringing pushing down the purchase price of those goods in Germany, thus attracting more consumers which will bring his company increased profits than otherwise.” She pondered, the Ottoman Empire must be abusing their strategic position as the bridge connecting the Occident and the Orient, likely through exorbitant tariffs. It would make perfect sense to remove this leech whenever possible, and fortunately, doing so will mutually benefit both seller and consumer. If the expedition proved to be successful, then the House would receive a share of the profits too.

However, judging from the lessons she had learned about projects, whether they be scientific, engineering, medical, or mercantile in nature, there's always a catch, a possible snag in the gears. In this particular case, if the Ottomans found out about it, they'd most likely deploy measures to retaliate against Germany and the Mughals, but considering the potential benefits... It's still a proposal worth considering.

"Perhaps... but I wouldn't fault you for being unaware of my preferences, it'd be hypocritical of me to do so." Her petite shoulders rose up a bit in a shrug, "It's not a decision that I can authorize by myself either so you are correct, Mr. Gharbi,” She then paused, as if considering something, and unlike Franz' faux pause, hers was genuine, "Among these textiles of yours, do you have any that are particularly resistant to heat and combustion while being lightweight and durable? If there are, I request for my family to gain exclusive access to it. It'd greatly increase your proposal's attractiveness to us if you do."

She’d wait for his answer to his important question of hers before addressing his next words, which were firmly in the realm of pleasantries rather than business.

"Well, we are fellow students of Bermuda, us being friends is not an unwelcome notion. As for us being business partners, like I said, you will have to wait for my family's decision on the matter." She then stared down at his hand, now that was a strange proposal, what does that have anything to do with asking her for a dance? She couldn't see why they should dance together because he saved her from falling glass, but if he asked her because they were both students who were attending the same ball and therefore should partake in its activities, then... "Perhaps... but not right now, as I said, I have things I must do first, then I will return to the ball. I will search for you once I'm there to do this... dance, but I have to admit that I have little experience with the activity so you will have to compensate for me."

With that answer, she figured she shouldn't waste anymore time. "Let us not tarry then, I should go now. I will see you later, Mr. Gharbi." Then Lucy did exactly as she claimed as she stood up from her seat to make her way out of the infirmary, Schwarzritter following closely beside her, ever the loyal knight it was.

---

Ah, the German efficiency did not disappoint. After confirming the existence of the material which Lucretia was looking for, Kalil found himself delighted at the prospect of teaching the young girl to dance. It was one of his many delights in the world, to dance to good music. He nodded to her farewell, replying to her back.

”A pleasure doing business, Ms. Konigsmahne, and may I see you on the dance floor!” Soon enough, Kalil was left alone to wander his way back to the ballroom after being discharged by the nurse. He took long drags of his pipe, filling the hallway with gentle vapour as his mind wandered. A colourful string of events but with several unknowns ticking away at his mind, some with worrying possibilities.

It was a dynamicism that felt familiar but wrong in the same vein. He would have to look out for perpetrators with the power to match his own.

Vapour swirled around him like the thoughts in his mind, dancing in the moonlit hallway. The chemicals soothed his addled brain, dulling the senses. The euphoria edged at him, pushing the troubling thoughts away. The heat which felt small beforehand seemed to rise the more he took of his pipe. Whatever. He could worry about all of this another time, he had accomplished enough this evening. After all, there was a banquet to attend!

Kalil barged through the doors, smile on his face. Where was that cute Whitehall girl that took such an interest in him? He felt like celebrating.

---

---

James continued through the hall, now more focused on trying to find his target. That little electrical stunt earlier made him wary of the people around him. He looked at all the jubilant faces around him, once again he found himself thinking, 'how nice it must be to be ignorant of the shadows around you.'

He moved towards the infirmary, perhaps the shards of glass might've wounded his target. If she was there then it would be no problem. All he'd have to do is wait at the entrance. But with each passing moment, he was beginning to find interest in the people around him. There was that one questionable french woman from earlier, she was making quite the racket. Then there was that smooth talking Mughal and a tiny German girl. There were even people from the New World, Incas and the like. These were all people he saw before bumping into the one Miss Yun. But this diversity made it all the more difficult to find that one person he so desperately needed to fulfill his mission.

To make matters worse, it seems more and more people were taking to dancing. 'Damn it, I really don't want to dance, not now. Where the hell is this damned target!?'

Lost in his thoughts, he would not realize that in that moment, he would've reached the infirmary and have its doors slam into his face and sending his poor top hat flying once again. "OUCH!-"

He quickly subdued his innermost rage and tried to react normally, picking his hat off the floor - again.

"Could you please not swing the door like that willy-nilly good sir! That hurt quite a bit!"

In that moment, James dignity and pride were hurt. Any other day - any other assignment this would've resulted in a beating, but not here. Not now.

_@SgtEasy

---

---

Shou had only just dropped his plate off with one of the servers when a sudden shout caught his attention. While not particularly defeaning with the size of the hall, there was a stark difference between the din of casual conversation and a cry of command. The size of the hall would have made finding the cause a bit difficult though if not for the unfurling of a German golem. He watched it form and ready itself with interest through narrowed eyes, and put the thought of food out of his mind for the moment.

Instead of trying to slip his way through the students that were drawn to the commotion, Shou took advantage of the opera boxes that lined the second floor. A casual jump gave him enough height to reach the railings that lined each private area, but he did wince a bit as the metal bent underneath his grip. They probably would have crumpled under the impact if he tried to land on them. He turned his attention out towards the rest of the hall quickly though and squinted at the two figures next to the golem. Well, he could only see one of them given the floating construct's bulk, but his posture made it quite clear that there was another held in his arms. The attire narrowed down the possibilities, but without getting a look at the man's face it was hard for him to say who it was. The person being held was quite obviously the Konigsmahne's heir though. Her Schwarzritter could hardly be mistaken for anything else.

"Pfft." He couldn't help it, and it's not like there was anyone else up here to hear Shou snort as he realized what had happened. From his perspective he could see the chandelier above with its missing bulb, and the red struck a nice contrast with the student's white clothes. Inti's little demonstration seemed to have done more than just flashbang a poor Egoist, but it was a bit odd. The bulbs weren't particular massive nor made of thick glass. Was he just unlucky or had the injury been planned to garner some sympathy?

Hard to say with just a look from afar, and it seemed like the pair were quick to escape from prying eyes. A few moments later and the mess had already been cleaned up by some of the staff. From is vantage point, Shou took the opportunity to scout out the hall a bit further. The change in music seemed to have brought some students out to the dance floor, and it seemed that Inti was among them. No need to return to their table then. With that in mind, he took a moment to stretch his legs as he hopped from one empty box to another. When the next was finally occupied, he descended just as swiftly as he had taken to the second floor. His tail smacked against the floor as a brace after he hopped the railing again, and he smooth his clothes out as he stood.

"Ah, hopefully that didn't startle you," he remarked to the blonde he found himself in front of as he bowed briefly. If she had been in any danger of being bowled over by him, Shou would have seen her beforehand he hopped down.

_@GreenGoat

---

@Zombehs

Jeanne looked a bit distracted before Shou came, her eyes staring at the sudden commotion by... one of the Germans it seemed. An iron golem, capable of tearing through everyone in this very room in just a blink of an eye. And yet not a single one of these cretins seemed alarmed by the show. Discreetly she started pulling out more buttons from her pockets, putting on on her hand where it disappeared up her sleeve.

"Ah, hopefully that didn't startle you."

For a moment, just for an instant, her hand full of buttons seemed to click, as a single burning blue light flickered within, turning its blue core straight at Shou, a burning pinprick that seemed to focus on him. The next instant however, it seemed as if that never happened, and as she raised that hand again, it was empty.

"Non. But please make jumping in front of people less of a habit." Jeanne glanced towards the iron golem again, to find it has disappeared. "There are those with far less inhibition than me, Monsieur..."

She paused, waiting for Shou to give his name.

---

---

With his head briefly bowed, Shou missed the brief flicker of light that bled through Jeanne's fist. By the time he straightened his posture and met her blue eyes, there was nothing seemingly out of place. "Zheng," he introduced himself with a grin. "Shou is fine too if you wish to drop the Monsieur." He tilted his head as he considered her warning for a moment before his lips curled into more of a smirk. "Well, it would make things a bit more exciting. Haven't even found a Technologist willing to put their works to a test yet," he griped with a shake of his head, "granted the Titania wasn't the best site for tests of that sort."

Before he continued though, Shou offered out a hand for Jeanna to shake and a chance to intoduce herself in turn.

"Jeanne" She gave his hand a brisk shake. "Jeanne du Bordeaux. From your... interesting, appearance, you are an Egoist, no? Careful what you ask for, Monsieur Zheng. Not all have forgotten the war."

"You'd think so, but drugs have proved that the body is quite malleable," Shou replied after a measured handshake. "But yes, I am an Egoist like many of my family. I'm sure someone back home would have a fit at the possibility of Technologism replicating our advancements."

A glance over his shoulder followed Jeanne's own from moments ago, and he exhaled sharply. "Hard to imagine they have when the Konig's heir has her floating death machine with her. That's not even going into the other militaristic Polymaths among our peers. Though I'm not sure if you would be among them. The stories I've heard about your exploits all seem rather destructive enough to count."

Jeanne simply waved those comments away. "Bah, those were but experiments upon which to test out my machines. The machine matters not when it comes to killing, for it is the Man that commits it. The Germans would have you believe the heartless machines would win wars, and parade around ridiculous overengineered machines such as those she brings."There was no question of who she was refering to.

"But..." She took a closer look at Shou. "I have heard it took a hundred times what a normal man can take, to kill an Egoist. I cannot deny it would be amusing to see how well you fare against my machines. Tell me, Monsieur Zheng, have you experienced well the knowledge of Technologists while travelling? I've assumed with your form, you have much experience under your belt, even with your age."

He supposed the rumors he had heard about her all had carried a sort of derisive tone to them. "Such blunt honesty is refreshing," Shou remarked before he clicked his tongue. "I suppose that might be why she sought out the budding Mesmerologist then. True automation seems unlikely without unlocking the secrets of the mind, and I'm sure the Germans can't wait until they no longer have to dirty their hands with such barbarism."

"In my case, I believe it would be dozens," he answered with a confident nod before he took a few moments to consider her question. "Not as much as I would like if we're being honest. With my family's reputation, most law abiding citizens are somewhat reserved when it comes to indulging my desires to test myself. Pirates on the other hand? Well, they don't mind breaking out the lightning guns and power loaders at all!"

"Ah... Such experience you have then." Jeanne could barely hold back a smug smirk, trying to suppress it into a small smile but only managing an odd sort of condenscending exression halfway between a grin and a smirk. "I suppose the majority of Technologists are unenlightened brutes such as them. The light of understanding seems to evade quite a lot of people after all. Those pirates you speak of seems no more than unwashed louts barely able to string together a light."

Shou on the other hand had no such compulsion and snorted with amusement at Jeanne's expression. "Most of them weren't even Polymaths, just lucky brutes that managed to get some better equipment than their peers. They did put up a bit more of a fight at the least." He rubbed the side of his gut briefly afterwards before he raised an eyebrow.

"And what would you be then, Madame? Are you truly enlightened, or seeking the fuel to grow your spark brighter?" It wasn't the first time he had heard something along the lines of what Jeanne espoused. Usually people didn't like hearing that sort of thing either, and the resulting conflict was at least interesting, if not even fun~

Jeanne's smirk grew wider at that. "Who knows? Perhaps I shall be the one to bring the dawn upon the world and have come here to do so. Perhaps I shall do nothing, and remain perfectly content living shrouded in obscurity. Enlightened or a glory hound? Which one do you think I am?"

"If you wanted obscurity, you've chosen a very interesting spot to try and achieve that. I'd hate to find out that there was no substance to what you've said as well, so why not both? A bit of fame is warranted for the torchbearer after all."

"Reality is often disappointing." Fishing in her pocket, Jeanne pulled out a round button, a domed circle with a flat bottom. It looked like bronze, with a beautiful relief of the morning star upon it, but it would be clear it was made of something similar to porcelain once one held it. She tossed it to Shou. "Here. Find me again after this if you still wish to test yourself against a true Technologist."

"All the more reason to try and make things interesting." He caught the small object between his fingers and held it up to examine for a moment. His thumb rubbed against the design embedded onto it before he nodded in response. "Sounds like a plan then. I'll be in touch." With another brief bow, he finally turned away from Jeanne and headed back into the throng of students.

Clap! Clap! Clap! Charmed by the taller boy's confidence, Inti took to clapping right away once he understood what was going on. That brown haired Occidental sure had charisma, working the crowd like he had. As he took to the center of the dance floor and started his routine, words and whispers began to fly around the circle of students.

<sub>"Isn't that, you know, that guy?"

"It's Franz Steiner!"

"The genius?"

"You mean the sham!"

"He's even skilled at dance."

"Is there nothing he can't do?"

"He'd be better off at Vaganova than here with the real Polymaths."</sub>

Apparently this "Franz" was quite famous. A lot of what was being said went right over Inti's head, but the dancer's name had been repeated so often that there would be no mistaking who they were talking about. He'd actually heard the name mentioned on the airship as well, so not he could put a face to the name. Still clapping his hands, Inti leaned over to a girl who had crowded in beside him.

"What exactly is Franz so well known for?" he asked her. The girl looked surprised.

"Have you been living under a rock?"

"Heheh, sort of..."

With a shrug, the female student started listing things off on her fingers. "He's smart, handsome, athletic, musically inclined..." She sounded close to swooning, but her features hardened before she went on. "...but they say he took up Mesmerology. I don't know why someone so smart would do something so stupid."

Well, he wasn't expecting that. Interesting! Inti was more impressed by the last fact than any of the former. He didn't ask anymore questions of the girl, and she gave no more information. They both continued to appreciate the display of culture before them. When it was over, Inti clapped all the harder. He grinned at Franz as he approached.

"That was amazing," he said, "I guess you weren't lying about being the best." Franz patted his shoulder, said something to him and -

Ah... wait, had he said that it was Inti's turn now? The Inca blinked in surprise, not expecting to be called out. He looked back and forth between Franz's retreating back and the dance floor he'd just vacated. Indeed, it seemed that after the boy's impressive display no one else dared to take the spotlight, though they lingered and jived around the edge of it. Energy was infectious it seemed, but confidence wasn't. Now, Inti wouldn't exactly describe himself as a confident dancer, but could at least sacrifice himself to the dance floor to keep the energy up. He took a deep breath, puffed all five foot two of himself up, and strode into the ring of onlookers to take his turn.

He doubted that the brass band would be able to play anything that truly sounded like the music of his homeland. He also had no idea how to properly dance to the Occidental style of music that was currently being played, let alone the thought of trying to match up to Franz's performance. He would just have to... adapt. Improvise. He could do that!

Probably!

Too soon he found himself in the middle of the floor. He realized he should probably have shed his poncho much the same as Franz had shed his jacket, but it was a little late for that now. The current song was already part way through and seemed to be winding down, so Inti used it to get his bearings. A bit awkward maybe, but it didn't last long. When the next piece began, Inti felt he had more or less got the gist. He bounced lightly on his toes, the up and down motion shaking the tassels on his clothes. He tucked one arm behind his back, the other held out in front of him with his hand turned in a welcoming gesture.

Inti's dancing was much different than the boy who'd taken the floor before him. Short skips and hops instead of sweeping movements and leaps. Inti's steps were simple and quick, made clumsy when the music took a turn and the Abya Yalan style didn't match up cleanly. He turned with his hands out stretched, dancing close to the edge of the crowd and inviting students to jump in. The very few that did stayed on the fringe of the dance floor. Others laughed, and Inti laughed with them.

When the song came to an end he retreated from the dance floor quickly, holding the poncho away from his body and using it as a poor fan. "Phew. That was fun."

---

Franz had left the other boy behind while he went to go grab his jacket. Did he expect his call to action to work? In truth, probably not. Most of the students seemed terrified to take the stage before he danced, and now after his performance, the pressure was probably too much. Franz slung his jacket back over his shoulders then wrapped the tie around his neck. While he was adjusting the tie back into his previously formal look, he turned around with a smug smile on his face. He was expecting an empty floor but was pleasantly surprised.

The boy was actually doing it, he had taken to the stage. All things considered, he was not bad either. Franz felt the need to stick around and watch. After all, he had been caught off guard by the boy's bravery. It's not as if Franz showed it though. This had only caused him to raise his eyebrows a bit in surprise. Franz had an image to uphold and he was not about to look outwardly baffled just because of one incorrect assumption.

Who was this boy that he would do what no one else in the hall was willing to? Certainly, everyone here was worthy of name recognition. But the name of this boy had never reached Franz. It was an unfortunate reality that news, rumours, and tales are not held equal in the Occident. Franz could probably name every person from the Occident here, the Konigsmahne's fall from grace, the fire include du Bordeaux, and the Oriental defector are all tales he has heard multiple times. But when it comes to the New World, the stories are few and far between. Franz wanted to inquire about this New World boy, but he would not ask the people around him. The best first impressions were made face to face after all.

The boy's dancing was humble and clearly improvised. He could see some sort of style and form coming through, but the music certainly didn't fit it. In truth though, it was an enjoyable performance. When Inti was taken outside of his comfort zone, improvisation was used to the flow of the music. It reminded Franz of dancing in his home town. Before rules and strict conduct was a demand for something as natural as dancing.

Franz clapped at the end of Inti's dance and caught his attention as he was exiting the floor.

”Well done, very well done. I assume you haven't learnt much in the way of Occidental dance, but the confidence was there. Certainly, I don't see anyone else willing to take to the centre.” This was probably the first thing Franz had said all night that was entirely genuine. ”My name is Franz Steiner, but I have not quite caught your name.” He held out his hand as if expecting a hand shake.

---

After taking care of some private business - and not the bathroom kind of private business - Lucretia made her way back to the Hall of the Greats, accompanied by the unquestioningly-loyal Schwarzritter. She entered the already-opened double doors as clockwork symphony graced her ears once more. Hmmm... now she'd just need to locate Mr. Gharbi and dance with him, yet something was rather off. Common sense would dictate that if he invited her for a dance, then he should be waiting near the entrance for convenience, but it seemed either he was late or she arrived earlier than expected.

"Guten Abend, Frau Konigsmahn-..." One of the waitstaff, a German himself, was carrying a tray of sparkling wine in crystal glasses when he recognized the heiress, he tried to greet her only for Lucy to seemingly don't even recognize his existence and just simply walked off. "..." The waiter's polite smile faded into an awkward frown, so what people said regarding her being exceptionally aloof was true, well he just hoped she wasn't singling him out for some reason. Ahaha... yeah, that would be silly, she's just that kind of genius, a shame that the house was using her to further their ambitions though. But eh, what the fuck do I know? These nobles and their politics.

In truth, Lucretia really did have nothing against that particular waiter, she was just deep in thought and didn't recognize someone was specifically addressing her, although her usual expression of an indifferent flat stare whether she was thinking or not didn't exactly help her image, Hmmm... well, his forearm was injured, perhaps he decided to rest a bit more before returning here. It made sense and she couldn't fault him for prioritizing his health over a dance, there were always more opportunities in the future anyway. With that deduction in mind, she decided to pick a vacant spot among the many ornate dining chairs.

This one just so happened to be quite close to the dancing floor so she could get a good look at what's happening there. Oh, that's Herr Steiner... She saw his dance, a show of energetic twirls, leaps, and footwork. It's certainly rather unorthodox considering the 'high culture' style of the event. He finished off the performance like a ballerina, spinning thrice before ending with a flourish. That must've been difficult to perform. Lucy mused as she made barely-audible claps, the noise overwhelmingly drowned out by the music and cheering around the dance floor.

Then Franz seemed to tag someone else to take the stage, a boy with fiery eyes and white hair like hers but further marked by red highlights, wearing a colorful set of Abya Yalan clothes, particularly South Abya Yala it seemed, that poncho was the most distinctive part of the outfit. Lucy didn't know him personally, but he and Franz seemed to be friends. He then proceeded to dance and while Lucy could somewhat recognize that Franz's dance - unorthodox it might be - was distinctly Occidental, especially with the ballerina spin, but this white-haired boy... moved in such a foreign way that Lucy couldn't have any other deductions except that it was an Abya Yalan style. It was enjoyable, although yes, it didn't exactly fit with the music, one didn't need to be an expert dancer to see that.

The Abya Yalan boy soon finished his performance and exited the stage, being approached by Herr Steiner again.

...oh. Right, since every student was here right now and she's not doing anything in particular... this might be a good chance to search for this "Egoist Defector" that Franz mentioned, yes, she should do that. Although... with so many students around - even if she narrowed them to just the Egoists - and without further information on this defector's physical attributes, she would be hard-pressed to identify them. It will be a pointless endeavor... I should wait for a reply instead. Yes, indeed, they should be able to provide her with further information.

For now, well, she supposed it was time to indulge herself a little. Getting up, Lucy proceeded to procure herself a selection of German sausages and hams: bratwurst, frankfurter, wiener würstchen, and others, then finally garnished with a serving of potato salad and sauerkraut. A small portion of each as she had never been someone who ate much. Her order done, the silver-haired girl went back to her previous chair, sat down, and began consuming her meal in peace.

---

---

Alas, the young German's peace wasn't to last for long. The commotion with the lights may have caused a momentary distraction, one that was further lengthened by his conversation with Jeanne, but in the end Shou did return to the laid out feast for another plate of food. He sampled his way from table to table, and the dishes he found to his liking were piled upon the plate. There was no point in returning to an empty table across the hall, and the dance floor seemed like it had finally attracted some attention.

He paused when he saw that it was Inti at the center of attention though. It wasn't too odd given how excitable and outgoing the boy had been during their conversation, and despite the clash between his style and the Occidental orchestra, it didn't seem to dampen his enthusiasm much. It was good to see that the other boy was enjoying himself instead of beating himself up over a simple accident at the least.

His hands were a bit too full to join the others out on the dance floor at the moment though, and he shuddered a bit as the orchestra continued with its next performance. He preferred his dances a bit more energetic and frantic than this slow-paced swaying. Regardless of his preferences though, they weren’t going to matter until he finished eating his full. There were plenty of empty tables by the dance floor as students migrated from one to the other, but he made his way towards a table occupied by one instead.

It was a shame that her construct had already been folded back into its compact form though. Testing its stability as a perch would have been fun, if incredibly rude and off putting to the heiress. Then again, given how she apparently had to be protected by another student rather than her own creation earlier? She could have used a few more surprises to help refine her reactions a bit. Like Jeanne had said, the machine currently mattered less than the man wielding it.

"Frau Konigsmahne," he called out while still a few feet away from her table. "May I join you for dinner?"

@Izurich

When within the company of 'less-gifted' teens, Lucretia's unusual behaviour would be as obvious as a floating iron golem charging through a porcelain shop. A thirteen-year-old capable of focusing on a single task to such a degree that one wouldn't be at fault to wonder whether she was truly human or something else, perhaps the Konigsmahne managed to engineer one of those fabled "automatons", a novel concept that couldn't yet be realized even by the best technologists of the Occident... or was it? Perhaps behind the veneer of a young silver-haired teenager lied an advanced set of logic engines capable of self-thought and self-learning, although not perfect, hence explaining the girl's personality.

An automaton, really? A polymath automaton at that? Truly a ludicrous conspiracy theory, one that was preposterous enough to gain the ire of Emmerich von Konigsmahne, Lucretia's father and House patriarch, and any German could tell you that being on the rich and powerful noble's bad side wasn't... ideal to say the least.

An educated fellow could simply deduce that geniuses often had their own quirks, no? Especially since most - if not all - geniuses gathered here didn't quite have the wisdom to compensate for said quirks with life experience. Lucy was unusual, sure, but so was the student body here, after all what were they if not for the brightest youths on Earth? Regardless, the fact remained that the German Polymath had the social charisma of a brick wall, a fact that no doubt one Shou Zheng would experience firsthand.

When the dark-with-red-tint-haired boy's voice reached her ears, Lucy stopped eating, put her fork and knife down, turned her gaze toward him, and blinked once in that specific order. "..." She didn't say anything to him at first, and it wouldn't take a genius to figure out that she was studying him, perhaps digging her memories to associate his likeness to someone she already knew, in the end, it seemed she failed, which meant he was a stranger, a one-sided sentiment considering he already knew her looks and name. A few seconds later, she finally replied, "For what purpose?" She asked bluntly, her flat tone devoid of even the slightest bit of sarcasm or hostility, an absurdly far cry from Mademoiselle Bordeaux.

"..." The question was followed by another few seconds of awkward silence before Lucy continued her attempt at 'courtesy', "Perhaps you have business with me, then of course. but first, an introduction is in order, I'm Lucretia von Konigsmahne, and who might you be, sir?"

@Zombehs

---

---

He had some apprehension in approaching the table while the Icelandic boy was conversing with others, two girls in fact. Bang tried to not let it deter him, though he couldn't help but take another glance at the Russian girl in the dress.

"Mr Agnarsson?" He placed his free hand on his chest and greeted Kiran with a smile. "My name is Lê Bằng Kiều. It's... truly an honor to meet you here. I'm a fan of your writings."

"Hm?" Kiran looked up from the remains of his cuts of pork and a salad he'd fetched at some point. "Oh, those things? I'm glad to hear it. Also, it's Kiran, please," he smiled at the newcomer. "Why don't you take a seat, join us for a meal? We can talk some more. I'm not usually approached for those travelogues, after all, though they were surprisingly popular...Anyhow, I do know of you by reputation, but I'll be glad to get to know you in person."

While they had been walking to their table, Valeriya blinked as an errant glance up at the flickering lights had her accidentally bump against Kiran. A quick apology later, and they'd found themselves seated with food and...apparently a fan of Agnarsson. Huh. Wasn't that Vietnam's wonder child? How curious. And was he staring at her? Hah. Well, it was nice to feel validated.

"Of course, feel free to have a seat." Valeriya looked up from her plate of assorted East Asian delicacies and smiled at Bang. "I've heard of his travelogues as well, though I've never had the time to get around to reading them. His Formula designs, on the other hand...well. That's rather closer to my own field. Of course, yours aren't quite so unknown to even us over in Europe, though I assume you're rather tired of hearing about such by now."

Bang grinned and took a seat. "I'd hope that you of all people would be familiar, madam. It is Russian technology that allows me to be here today. I'm afraid that's as far as my mechanical expertise extends, however. I hope it's alright that I know you more for your travels than your Formulae, Kiran." He shrugged, looking at the other boy.

Nazca had eaten earlier, but it was for this very reason that she left extra room in her stomach. Yep, she now had another full plate of food in front of her as she sat down-- this time with a sampling of East Asian cuisine, after taking a cue from her Russian counterpart.

She was still miffed that her target had gotten away.

The flickering lights were an oddity. An oddity that didn't concern her. With no reason to make a fuss, she took another bite of her serving of yuxiang shredded pork, bring a smile to her face as she patted her cheek with her free hand.

"Never heard of them. But go ahead," she decided to helpfully add after she finished chewing. Nonetheless, she spared a modicum of decorum to welcome the newcomer to the table, despite not knowing who he was either.

She took another bite.

"Hm, no, I do not care what you know me for, I wouldn't be offended if you had no idea of who I was either. There are so many famous people here, it is difficult to keep track of them all, wouldn't you say?" he asked rhetorically. "And to familiarize the ladies with my writings...There are four volumes, first three are on expeditions to northern Abya Yala, Greenland, and uninhabited parts of Iceland, the fourth is a short series of chapters about the Dark Continent," Kiran explained. Turning to Bằng, he offered, "If you happen to have the copies with you, I can sign them for you."

Having eaten his fill, he stretched on his seat, content. He gathered the empty plates together, and looked around, trying to find out if there was any obviously designated area where to put them. "I'll be just a moment." Thus excusing himself from the table, Kiran left, plates in one hand, suitcase in other. He was shortly intercepted by a waiter, who took the empty plates off him, and wouldn't hear of Kiran carrying them any farther himself. Shrugging the encounter off, he returned to his company. He did privately think that they were looking to spoil them rotten here, though. Though maybe the over-the-top hospitality was there just for the evening.

"Well, then," he sat down, laying the suitcase on the table. "This here is my project. A mobile unit, though minimized. You ought to see it once I have it transformed. I do hope workspace is ample around here...Anyhow, it's a fairly basic model as of yet, but I'm looking to have it adapted for underwater exploration. Submarines are all well and good, but this one should be more suited to what I have in mind...Khm," he coughed, slightly embarrassed as he caught himself just in time before expounding on this subject further - possibly more than his conversation partners would have been interested in.

Besides, as Valeriya's words reminded him, they were sort of rivals, though he personally wasn't as interested in military applications of his creations. Of course, he was aware that his machines had been funded precisely because of their devastating potential. He didn't think he was wrong for not having taken one of those models with him to Bermuda, however. If his investors wanted him developing the MUs for war use, he could always apply his newly-gained knowledge after he returned home from his studying, after all.

Valeriya listened as Kiran went on about his travels, taking the opportunity to eat her dinner. She offered a polite nod as he excused himself, finishing off her plateful of nigiri sushi and red-braised pork belly before he returned.

Once Kiran started talking about his mobile unit models, however, Valeriya listened far more intently. This was what she was even sitting here to learn about, after all.

"No, do go on." She favored Kiran with a slight grin. "If you pique my interest enough, I might reciprocate with something of my own designs. Fair is fair, after all."

"You're interested in underwater exploration, then? I take it that means the design isn't even close to finalized?"

Frankly, Nazca wasn't particularly interested in travel tales, although she politely didn't indicate as much, preferring to just keep to her food like her Russian counterpart while idly listening.

And like her, it was only when he began to talk about actual technology that Nazca's interest was piqued. It wasn't actually a field that was relevant to her, but such information was always welcome-- and she had been having some problems emulating marine life with her own creations.

She didn't vocalize as such, but her attention was now more focused on him as she leaned in closer.

Bang's gaze flitted between the Russian and the Icelandic boy. He couldn't believe his luck! There was a chance to complete the Ministry's task on his first day here and all he had to do was keep the conversation chugging.

"Finalised or not, it'd be interesting to see what features are prioritised for such a journey," he chimed in.

"Ah, I must have forgotten I was in the company of polymaths, it seems," Kiran shook his head fondly. Though actually what he'd put from his mind was the fact that other people could be after his secrets as well. No matter, he could answer vaguely enough without revealing any specifics. "Well, I'd enjoy learning more about your research in exchange, of course, though a 'might' doesn't do much to sway me," he answered Valeriya bluntly.

"But I will say in regards to finalization that there are certain field tests I must perform before I could claim whether it's close to completion or far from it," he added. "As for the features...It's be the usual, pressure resistance, propulsion systems, sensors, and so on. Not all that revolutionary, all things considered," Kiran explained with a shrug. It was true enough that technically there wasn't anything novel to his project in the sense that what he'd be applying to it had existed previously, but he was certainly planning to make advancements with it. But that much was a given.

"You know, I believe there is a certain Egoist whose insight we - or at least I - might benefit from on this matter. A scion of the Zheng family; they are known to adapt their bodies for traversal across and through the oceans. I wonder if some of the concepts they use could be applied to technologism? Truly, inter-major cooperation might be what we should strive for in the future," he rambled, nodding to himself as he patted his suitcase twice. Though at the mention of co-operation, Kiran couldn't help but glance at Bang's torso - exactly one such example of specialists from differing Majors working together, sitting right there at their table. Unfortunately, even if he were an Egoist himself, Kiran had no way of seeing Formulae beyond another's flesh. (That he wasn't a medical expert never entered his consideration at all.)

So that's how it was, then. If Kiran was being truthful that he'd only just begun working on underwater functionality, that was a load off Valeriya's back. Still, he knew damn well she had an obvious interest in a competitor to her field. The Icelandic teen could just be stringing her along with false information. It was what she'd do, after all.

"How interesting. I suppose I did promise to reciprocate. I'd assume at least Kiran here is at least somewhat knowledgeable of my work. If none of you are, it's no worry. Suffice to say, I've been creating powered armor and electromagnetic launchers for military purposes. As to my progress..."

Hmm...how much to reveal? Well, best to go with nothing particularly threatening. Even though she was around civilian teenagers, there was always the risk one would write home to the wrong person.

"The base design is complete, and is seeing limited deployment. I've been tasked with...dumbing it down, suffice to say. I've received complaints that both the armor and the railguns require too much specialized training than can be afforded for conscripts at the moment. Will that satisfy you, Agnarsson?" Valeriya smiled thinly, her expression not quite meeting her eyes.

"Mm-hm!" Kiran nodded happily, pretending there was nothing off at all about Valeriya and her murderous expression. "Adapting inventions in such a way that they can be used by non-polymaths or even those who lack specialized training can be quite the challenge," he agreed blandly.

Nazca continued to eat. She hadn't offered any insight at all into her own black-box creations, but the Icelander and the Russian were gladly offering their own insights on their own technology! Granted, they were being as liberal as one could be when it came to disclosing proprietary technology, but just having the scribbled notes version was nice.

"Ah? Railguns? I see your pursuits are at the cutting edge of modern technology," she decided to comment. "It would be interesting to see how well the technology can be miniaturized," she added.

"It would." Valeriya replied neutrally, dabbing at her mouth with a napkin. Any sort of actual reply to that would be going too far, even if she somewhat liked Nazca personally.

"Mm, I can imagine," Bang nodded, mentally jotting everything down. "Military types sure have it rough, huh. What kind of issues do the regular conscripts have?"

"Mostly, making sure they can handle the speed and strength boosting servos on the armor without hurting themselves or others in the process." Valeriya sighed, setting her fork down as she finished with her food. "It isn't a real issue, at least in my eyes. Nothing that can't be solved with a decent amount of training time. But as much as I hate to say it, the generals do have a point when it comes to the conscripts and not the regulars. But enough about me. What of your projects, Bang?"

The Vietnamese boy looked genuinely surprised at the interest taken in him.

"Ah. Well, I'd hesitate to call it 'my' project but..."

The boy removed the glove from his right hand, revealing an artificial forearm lined with porcelain shells. He removed the largest piece with a soft click, revealing a series of woven steel ropes. As he flexed each finger, their tautness would adjust.

"This is the newest model I've been asked to prototype. It was designed to simulate a naturally occuring muscular structure. My reports on it so far have been... quite favourable." A wry smile crossed his face. "With enough practice, I may even be able to dabble on the piano."

"Ooh, it's your arm as well, not just your ribs," Kiran exclaimed, pleasantly surprised. His hand hovered over the metal structure, though he'd stopped himself just in time before he'd touch it - not that he needed to; a technologist such as himself could clearly see the prosthetic's Formulae. "Fascinating," he murmured. "You yourself must have some knowledge of Technologism to use it, no?" he queried. "Oh, and, I wouldn't know if it is possible with Egoism, but have you considered adjusting your organic body to metal? It might make the integration smoother, but that's just a guess," he said.

Valeriya started to inspect the arm. An artificial arm? While it wasn't too close to her own strength-increasing powered armor, it was still close enough to her field for her to take an interest despite herself.

"Indeed," She nodded in agreement with Kiran, carefully looking over the Formulae. "Very impressive work, especially considering how little Technologism is practiced in the Far East, to my knowledge. Do you know who designed this prototype of yours?"

"Minimal. I had to do some reading but my base knowledge is certainly not enough to create something on your levels." Bang scratched his head sheepishly. "Altering my body in such a way is... a little outside of my wheelhouse, I'm afraid. Keeping myself fleshy is kinda my goal!"

He looked to Valeriya, stifling a chuckle. "Ah, it depends who you ask. I'm sure everyone on that particular committee would be all too eager to claim credit. I believe that the cabling was based on an old Russian design, something about the Antonov Piston. It was traded amongst other things in the research alliance between our nations." Bang allowed himself a little smile. "Hopefully this prosthetic is the first of many successes to result from that."

"Hm, I see," Kiran nodded thoughtfully. "Well, this has been an enlightening conversation, and it would be my pleasure to meet any of you at a later time. As for today, well, it seems the dancing is finally getting somewhere," he waved at the dance floor, where Inti had been dancing not long ago. "I'll be taking a closer look at that, if you don't mind." Kiran didn't wait past any reciprocated farewells, and slipped into the crowd soon after.

Nazca continued to observe and listen, especially when the Vietnamese boy began to show off his arm. As her own art relied on creating life-like simulacrums of animals, getting any sort of inspiration for next-generation clockwork internals was always good. As the third-party to this entire conversation by virtue of her barging into it, though, she mostly kept to herself, only offering a comment here and there before it appeared the conversation was dying down. "It was a pleasure," she agreed, before standing up as well. "I do believe I have somebody to find, though."

"Rather fixated on that boy, aren't you?" Valeriya smirked at Nazca even as she waved Kiran off. "Do I detect something of a crush?"

She turned her attention back to Bang for the moment, nodding at his explanation. "That makes sense. I'm somewhat familiar with the Antonov Piston. But it's good to see our technology has been a boon so far." Valeriya smiled slightly, pushing her now emptied plate away as she looked towards the dance starting.

"I don't suppose we should be joining the rest over that way?"

The mention of dancing made Bang glance at his cane, a soft frown setting in as he was reminded of his usually limited stamina. Usually. With his target in such close proximity, they'd expect him to make exceptions, right?

Hidden within the confines of his shoe, his missing three toes sprouted back to form. Bang rested his cane against the table and stood with more ease than before, albeit still with a slight hobble.

"I suppose!" He answered, winning grin back on. "Miss Valeriya, would you honor me with your company for a dance?"

"Oh, why not?" Valeriya shrugged, favoring Bang with a slight grin of her own. It wasn't as if she could get too pushy with her target, at least not on the first day. That, and she'd accomplished enough of her objectives that it'd be greedy to push for more so quickly. Best to just maintain her cover for now and act as a normal student would.

"A gentleman leads, doesn't he?" She stood and offered her hand for Bang to take. In all honesty, she was curious to see how Bang would manage dancing, considering his bad leg.

"That he does," he replied coolly, already feeling a bead of sweat form on his temple.

---

The Oxford dictionary, the premier leader for the obscure English language, states that the word ‘drug’ is defined as following: an illegal substance that some people smoke, inject, etc. for the physical and mental effects it has. Some take drugs by choice, to relax and unwind. Maybe some need an extra burst of energy to get through the day or are addicted to said substance. Others have no clue they even take drugs in the first place. This latter case applies to one Kalil Gharbi, currently hotblooded and all bothered, seeking a way to release energy. The effects of a drug the Bengals wanted to test out, for their amusement of course.

There were no physical symptoms, at least none so obvious to be seen by anyone but medical doctors, but the effects to the mind were profound. An increased blood flow, a greater activation of hormonal activity and general mood swings. The point of such a drug? The Bengals were unsure but did find it funny they were testing it out on their hostage heir.

And so here the merchant was, blood rushing, yelled at by a white man in a funny looking outfit. This मादरचोद. At any other time, Kalil would be reasonable and apologetic, as a merchant’s son should be. A businessman never raised his voice and never let his emotions get to him. It was simply bad for business.

A teenager starting to feel the effect of unexpected drugs however…

”You sisterfucker white man, you ran into the door!” Kalil exclaimed in Hindi, righting his slanted turban.

James fixed his tophat atop his head and stared at the man, it was one of the people he noted from earlier. He seemed just as upset as he was, he knew what he was saying, he has to. Language from a young age needed to be learned and needed to be fluent if the institute would use you in any capacity. However, his response would be to aggravate him more.

“Speak bloody English or Latin you tanned goat fucker! I can’t speak that garbage you call Hindi!”

Unlike the man before him he was unhindered by his chemicals. James’ plan was two fold. If the man were to engage in combat, it would be easy enough to slip a bit of the chemicals in his shirt into his nostrils. But if it never came to that and this ended up being a battle of wit, then James would concede, it was bothersome to waste spit on someone who wasn’t even his target.

On his part, Kalil got angrier. This bloody Englishman! There was just something about the English which put him and any good Indian in a fit. Maybe it was their garish version of tea or imperialist ambitions. He flexed his hands in a practised manner, pushing the wind flowing towards the Englishman in a wordless attempt to tell James to back off.

This only resulted in the silly top hat blowing off the Englishman’s head, making Kalil smirk. What a silly thing to wear on your head. ”Garbage? Funny thing to say for an Englishman with a language so stupid no one knows it beyond your tiny island.” He bit back in an Abya Yalan retort, glancing obviously to James’ bottoms. ”Is that a poor English excuse for trousers? So tight, it’s fortunate you do not have a big enough package to be outlined by those ridiculously cut seams.”

James didn’t flinch, instead he simply picked his hat back up, then turned to Kalil. “As usual only a barbarian would go so low as to use such a vulgar insult. Tell me, how is it that a man that clearly doesn’t belong here get here? Did you piggyback off of a well off Englishman. Perhaps that’s how you have such an unhealthy interest in what’s in another man’s trousers.”

He took a vial from his jacket as he turned, hiding it behind his tophat in the other hand. He stared Kalil down head to toe. He focused particularly on his pipe, “Aren’t you a few years too young to be smoking or are you a delinquent on top of being a savage?”

Kalil’s smirk only grew into a full blown smile, even as he simmered in silent rage. A drug addled mind he might have but he had his fair share of drugged experiences and he started to catch on to his untoward behaviour. Behind narrowed eyes, his mind raced with thoughts and emotions, the hormonal imbalance ringing alarm bells in his head.

This did not stop him from thinking this Englishman needed a little step down in the arrogance department however.

Kalil swirled the air around the two, pushing all of the wind flow towards James in a constant flow. He took a drag of his pipe, blowing accelerated vapour in the fool’s direction.

The merchant’s son noted his fingers twitching, blood rushing to his ears. What in the world was going on? Despite his inner confusion, he kept the wind flowing in an effortless show of wind dynamicism.

“I wouldn’t talk so tough if I were you, Englishman. For someone so old as you presume yourself to be, you seem to be lacking a little in stature.” Kalil raised his hand in a mocking manner, showcasing the clear difference in height between the two. ”And so what if I am interested in what is in another man’s trousers? Your mother seemed to show the same interest in what’s in mine. Seemed to enjoy it even.”

Unfortunately for Kalil, anything regarding his past family didn’t exactly affect him. “Why I didn’t know my mother. But it’s obvious that I didn’t need her to get where I am. If you know the whore… You can keep her. She would obviously suit a savage such as yourself.”

James then seemed to tire of this nonsense. He twirled his hat back onto his head revealing the small vial at the same time. The small cork that held the gas inside was freed from the top and with a snap of his fingers the chemical swirled around Kalil. “I tire of this nonsense. Have a whiff and cool your head.”

James had a chemical specifically made to relax the people around him. It was made to be particularly strong in order to help better make himself look friendly in front of people. He never thought he’d have to use it here. “We shall get nowhere with your head in such a state. Savage as you may be, you are here, as much as I hate to admit, but that means you were selected to be here.”

He then tossed him the vial with a label that reads, ’relaxant’. “... As a gentleman, I might as well be the bigger man and end this pointless argument here. Ironic because you are quite tall.” It seems, James had let off the gas a little, but it was also because the relaxant had also hit him. Kalil’s little wind display messed up James’ attempt to drug him. It usually doesn’t end up like this. But relaxed, doesn’t mean unfocused, there was still the person in front of him to deal with.

He held out a hand for a shake, “Let’s start fresh, despite our… Mishap. James Porter, and you?” now he spoke in Hindi, as a sign of respect.

In response, Kalil merely blinked his eyes in astonishment. Chemicals do unexpected things to the brain and when mixed, tend to accelerate in some direction unknown to the user. For someone who knew nothing about the chemicals entering his body, the poor Mughal was hit by a sudden sense of euphoria. The vial fell uselessly to the floor, shattering in a storm of glass. There was no reaction for within him, he found ᘉᓰᖇᐺᗩᘉᗩ.

Emotions rose and fell, some untouched parts of his body tingling in a way they never have before. Kalil felt both invigorated and depressed, energised but drained. It was a concert of waves and spinning colours. The world was lost to him as he rose, rose to heaven like the Prophet had claimed his people would. He felt like crying and laughing, it was a terrifying but beautiful moment of peace and chaos mixed into one. And just as it came, it left. Reformed into a razor sharp focus that Kalil had never felt before. It was as if the world became clearer, as if God had opened his eyes to enlightenment.

James had, inadvertently, combined the chemicals in Kalil’s body to make a new experience. ᘉᓰᖇᐺᗩᘉᗩ.

He gasped, coming out of his spiritual reverie. A long drag of his pipe later, he took the Englishman by the shoulders in a tight grip. ”Brother!” He exclaimed, voice modulated at a deeper, louder voice in a mere shaking motion. ”Join me in enlightenment!” He blew the vapour into James’ face, hoping to carry him to ᘉᓰᖇᐺᗩᘉᗩ.

James’ judgement was a little impaired, so instead of immediately moving back, he found himself accepting this shake down. Without thinking, he inhaled the vapours. Immediately the drug’s effects on his body began to take effect. The mixing of the drugs in his body became apparent. He nearly fell to his knees as he felt the strength in his legs leave him. He braced himself by the frame of the door next to them and put a hand to his chest.

“What the-? Did you- Drug me?” James began to feel everything Kalil could. A mixture of highs and lows, happiness and sadness, anger and calm all at the same time. It was intoxicating, but it wasn’t a good idea to stay in this condition. Additionally, James couldn’t use any of his cures for his own poisons - whatever the effects will be won’t be what’s intended.

He looked back at Kalil, “You were consuming drugs this entire time?” he strained to keep his mind straight; strained to keep his mind on the mission; strained to keep himself from doing something he’d regret. But he was losing himself slowly. Before he would lose himself entirely, perhaps this drug was worth studying. He fell to the ground and grabbed a piece of the shattered vial and cut open his palm to take a blood sample to try and isolate the chemical. With a flick of his finger he directed the flow of his own blood from his wound into an empty vial. Almost forgetting where he was and who he was in front of.

He then said, “I need to collect this for my studies… These… Chemicals… Might be useful…”

For his part, Kalil merely blinked away the weirdness of his temporary companion and waited for him to stop his extraction. Once done, the now exuberant Mughal picked the Englishman by the shoulders with a smile on his face. He slung his arm around him, like a comrade in arms would, marching forward while he began chatting excitedly in hard to catch Hindi.

”Well, I must say good sir that you are indeed a weird sort of sisterfucker. Perhaps we all are eh, given how we are all geniuses among geniuses. Ah but maybe I am a fake, I used to think Euclidian math was the truth until someone introduced me to non-Euclidian mathematics. How much of a young fool I was, obsessed with economics and numbers when I could not even see the world in any way beyond the perspective of an Egyptian of all things! Imagine that? Oh but on weirdness, there was this strange girl inside the ballroom right now who I think wants to get inside my turban, if you catch my drift, but I find myself attracted to the German sort if you catch what I’m throwing at you. Alas, my older yet most definitely virgin friend, I may have found the perfect match for your silly British sensitivities. I know from British foods that you hate spice but I may have found a spice so spicy that you might actually season your chicken! And by chicken, you should know that I mean- Ah! Here we are!”

For poor James, he would not be able to get a word in edgeways as once again, Kalil took a large drag of his pipe and blew it into the English man’s face. This was before kicking the massive hall doors open, potentially bruising his knee in the process. It seemed to be the end of a stunning dancing performance with a dark-skinned boy leaving the floor.

The now extroverted Mughal shouted towards the fake-orchestra. ”Oi contraptions! My new friend James would like his people’s best classic. RULE BRITANNIA!!” And thus glory struck the room as the duo stepped on to the floor, Kalil beckoning all to come forth and join them in song.