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As Nazca made to move, Maximillien raised his hand, as if bidding her to stop. Without any particular place specified, he placed the basket upon an empty space on the cabinets beside her, then stepped back once more. Her gaze was met freely, and within them, Nazca could not discern anything beyond...a slight hint of guilt?

"No, this is not," he spoke. "I am here, as well, to apologize for my conduct the day before. Upon reflection, it was clear that your words were not such that you wished to volunteer for such task, and as a result of my misjudgment, you are in the state you are now. If there is anything you wish for to make your stay in this hospital more pleasant, I will acquire it for you, Lady Whitehall. Within reason, of course."
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Franz Steiner
Lucretia von Königsmähne
Bunga Kurniawan



@Jumbus @Izurich @Kumbaris



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Nazca Whitehall
Clockwork Autumn

Nazca couldn’t help but to show a slight look of surprise as her visitor gave his response and met her gaze. Between her initial impression of the student in his official role, and her colored impression of visitors after the day’s events, she had come to expect Maximillien’s motives to be far more self-serving than the reality of why he was here.

Pissed as she was, if his apology was genuine, she could recognize that he actually showed quite a lot integrity to admit that he was wrong.

“I see,” she responded simply, settling back into her hospital bed. “It’s all water under the bridge now. If it is as you say, neither of us could have expected such an… extreme outcome. Apology accepted… but it is clear that something is still not right with this Jeanne business. It is strange for somebody to be attacked just for being around or looking into her business, if what I have been told is correct. It’s a shame that I remember nothing of what happened.”

At his offer for improving her stay, she glanced at the door. “A nurse and a doctor with a better bedside manner would be pleasant.”
--

Later in the day, either as a result of her request, or by complete coincidence, she received her last visitor for the day as she nibbled on one of Maximilien’s gifted baked goods. Upon hearing that it was a student of medicine, Nazca was quick to give her assent to the arrival of the oriental student. This one she coincidentally recognized, although she had yet to interact with her in any real capacity on the island before now.

“Hana Yun, was it? No need to apologize. I can and will appreciate any additional medical expertise. Just being apologized to is a nice change of pace compared to rude students barging into my room demanding things.”

Yes, she was still salty about James and Bunga. She would be for a while.

Her eyes tracked the bottle as Hana revealed the medicine, glancing at the exotic characters on its label as she placed it on her bedside table. Nazca listened intently at her instructions, not caring if the girl seemed to ramble. If it would help her heal from those awful burn wounds, then just being a bit hungrier was no issue. She had a whole basket of food now, anyway.

“I see. Thank you for the medicine. I appreciate it,” she gratefully replied. “As long as there aren’t any other detrimental effects… then I have no real questions. If I do, then I’ll be sure to call for you.”
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Shou Zheng

The fading warmth of a setting sun prompted Shou to slowly rise from his seated position. Rather than hole up inside his room, he had returned to it only briefly to begin detailing out the latest addition to the tapestry on his back. Completing it would take some time and further inspiration, and he was in no rush despite the dangers he had encountered last night. Perfection could hardly be rushed, and he could not simply add haphazardly to himself. The ink had to settle, be drawn in and integrated, and connected with the changes he worked upon himself.

The majority of his focus had been directed towards recovering from last night's ordeals anyways. Despite the immense amount of food he had consumed during lunch, he could feel his appetite stirring as he slowly started to walk. Minor aches and pains that might have gone unnoticed by non-Egoists were still apparent to Shou, but not concerning enough that he would be absent from tonight's excursion.

By the time curfew actually rolled around, Shou was as prepared as he could have been. Well-fed and well-rested after a quick nap in the few hours he had after the sun had set, he rose again with a quick yawn and stretch. He had retrieved his weapon from where he had hid it this morning rather than carry it through the city like some sellsword. Its usefulness was debatable, but it was easy enough to carry around and something of a comfort to have in hand.

As the bell tolled once more and heralded the mist's arrival, Shou started to move before it could blanket the entire island. Hopefully they'd actually get to meet up without any incidents; it would hardly bode well if one of them needed saving before they could even get started.
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EE 87, May 6 | Curfew Begins

Few were there to dine now at Jeanne’s place, but the dinner itself took advantage of the free meals hosted to all students within Bermuda and remained as eloquent as always. Nazca had, understandably, remained in the hospital, visiting hours closed and bandages having been changed out during her nightly wipedown. Franz, as if trying to make up for the sheer amount of time he had lost during the day, opted to remain at the ryokan-style apartments. Another one of the students there had fixed up the front doors by then, and he was free to catch up on his personal research and accommodations while chewing on some non-descript one-handed meal. Inti had been missing since yesterday, and no one had bothered to look for the Dynamicist from the Incan Empire.

So dinner remained a gorgeous, yet frigid affair. Bang and Jeanne ate in a quiet that clearly indicated something was amiss, and Ryuuko had nothing truly to add beyond speaking of her own post-curfew plans, regardless of what the Vietnamese Egoist had argued about during the morning. In the end, there was nothing that could be done about the Prodigious Dragon and her reckless lust for revenge. It was a small comfort, at least, that she would be with Shou and Valeriya during this, even if their meeting place of choice was vague and ill-defined. Jeanne had no comment to make, and Bang had no task given. There was one more day and one more night before the Frenchwoman would stand trial, but the information that they held remained frustratingly lacking, tied more with obscure abnormalities within this artificial island rather than the matter of the pyromaniac and the man-bat.

And when the bones were picked clean, when dessert was served and finished, Ryuuko left, leaving just two alone in the suite meant for one.

Jeanne relocated to a seat by the patio, stared out the window, and with her index finger, covered as it was by black leather gloves, began to trace something upon the wooden table before her, content, as it were, to disregard Bang’s presence.

It would, perhaps, be a long night.

Ten bells chimed with discordant sorrow, and the mist fell once more, shrouding the grave-like city in a silence most profound.



Sector 1 – The Inner Circle

James’s ears were, for the most part, still ringing. If one thought of clocktowers in Bermuda, there really was only one clocktower out there: the one that rang with such ferocity that one’s ears hurt even if they were at the very perimeters of the island. Perhaps it was loud enough even to reach the surrounding oceans. And it was that loud, to be inside the clocktower while it rang was a recipe for suffering, even with the proper protections in place. As it stood, his head still ached and there was still a real good chance of permanent hearing loss, but for the time being, the British Polymath wasn’t bleeding out from his ears, and now, he was alone at the top of the clocktower. This high above, he was finally able to see the clear night sky that watched over Bermuda every night, the crescent Moon escorted by an entourage of twinkling stars. Even though these were but conceptual illusions, brought about by divine decree rather than by the existence of tangible, celestial objects, there was still something romantic about it.

Not, of course, that it mattered. Though he was unable to make out the shape of the ocean, James was able to clearly catch the moment in which the fog rolled in. It had come in with a speed akin to a tsunami, enveloping the city from all sides within the same span of time as the ten tolls of the clocktower’s bells. From the ground, it may have appeared slower appeared as if it gradually formed from nothingness, but at his vantage point, it was a swift transformation, a very concrete one.

And, as well, he noticed it.

Though the fog encompassed all parts of Bermuda, it did not wash over the high walls that separated the Inner Circle from the rest of the academic island, leaving a pocket of clarity. Was this to be a ‘safezone’ then? The gloom of the clocktower, bereft of any light but a solitary lantern, offered no answers. Machinery whirred and clicked, well-oiled gears spinning with the regularity of a metronome, all of it without the touch of Formulization, and yet, at the top of the clocktower, he could still see nothing.

At this point, standing upon the only spot of civilization unclaimed by a fog that hid everything, from saints and sinners to demons and mortals, James felt a creeping loneliness.

A loneliness only heightened, when something irregular intruded upon the regularity of a clock’s gears.

Tip tap.

Footsteps sounded, climbing the spiral stairsteps of the freestanding tower. Distant still, but inevitably closing in.

Sector 4 – Waterfront Wharf

During daytime, this part of Bermuda was one of the liveliest portions of the island. Featuring a small, eclectic display of shops and services, there was a distinctly tropical-festivity feel to the place, with smooth pavement gradually giving away to sand-dusted boardwalks the further east one travelled. Abya Yalan glassbowers would create wonderful sculptures, European clockworkers had entire orchestras held within musical boxes, and Far East chemists mixed up safe but explosively satisfying fireworks. For a place to rendezvous with friends, it was one of the best to be, and for a place where friends met often, the value of a portable, high-quality camera was immeasurable in capturing the fleeting moments of one’s youth, the sparse leisure that a Polymath affords themselves.

That, however, was during daytime.

In the night, the night smothered by the salt-stained fog, silent except for the distant roar of the ocean, the mismatched silhouettes of the eclectic quarters made for a nightmarish display. Streetlamps burned brightly enough to cast everything in a yellowed hue, but even that was a sparse comfort. Franz was but a man. Lucretia had handed off her greatest weapon. And Bunga, their bodyguard, had the infamous distinction of being one of the weakest Egoists within Bermuda. Perhaps the concoctions that James had managed to whip up for her would help even out the odds a bit more, but on the other hand, the biology of each individual Egoist was vastly different.

Perhaps the bottles she now had with her were worth less than a placebo.

Still, they gathered, a few blocks away from the Atelier du Moor that they sought to stake out. The mist would be omnipresent, by nature, but for now, all that caught the attention of their trained eyes was the spark of Sukoro Jinga’s Starsteel Formulizations, emerging upon the few inorganic components that made up this sector’s buildings. Time will tell of the fruitfulness of their designs.

Sector 8 – Blockscape

Ultimately, no matter the strength and durability that the Tsardom’s powered armors granted, the black-tinted plates offered not the natural, graceful mobility that any classically-trained Egoist would obtain, and it was decided that Shou and Ryuuko would locate Valeriya outside the testing facility that she would be breaking out of. The two Egoists had met a couple minutes before, Shou armed and Ryuuko ready, and their accelerated steps propelled their forms through the mist at such speeds that it was as if they were bounding ten meters for every step, wind and fog curling off the edges of their clothing as they shot past Brutalist monoliths, their stark shadows cast by fog-piercing fluorescent lights.

And then, rounding the corner, they saw it, a silhouette of black.

For a moment, Ryuuko’s memories of the night triggered, memories of incomprehensible darkness, of impossible conjurations, of the obsidian cocoon that swallowed her companion whole. Had Valeriya already been taken?

But no, this had more shape than that, more substance. Tubes and plating, weaponry and containers, The necessary equipment for connection to the Telesma, as well as back-up generators in the form of Steam Cores. And more than that, it was the style of it that made it doubtlessly something of the Occident. It was a style that pronounced terror, the terror of the Tsardom’s Armored Infantry, of walking deadmen clad in scorched sarcophagi, wielding gatling coilguns to reap the wheat that was the Fatherland’s foes. It was a philosophy that evolved from the study of the French Blast Knights, of metal that brought strength for the man to exercise their malice.

It was domination. It was the boot that pressed against the traitor’s throat.

It was nothing that presented much threat at all to Ryuuko and Shou, though, and the trio all had more things to worry about than whether one of them would betray the others. Namely, how exactly were they to ‘investigate’ the abnormalities brought out by this fog? Certainly, they wouldn’t be so foolish as to replicate the steps that Shou took to be attacked, yes?
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EE 87, May 8 | Afternoon


"My client pleads no contest."

Like that, it was over.

Observing from the side, Ryuuko's expression flared up with an indignant fury, but Jeanne herself remained unaffected. Franz had thrown in the towel before the trial even began, and yet, it was the most logical decision he could make under these circumstances. Three days had elapsed, and all that they had gathered were snippets of information, meager bits and bobs that could not form any case to erase the truth that the Witch herself had admitted right at the start.

She had burned down the library, and only due to the slightest provocation.

Yet even Robespierre looked surprised at this turn of events. What could have inspired Franz Steiner, the Universal Genius who possessed a notable chip in the shoulder towards nobility, to fold so easily?


It was in the Bermuda Triangle the day after, but Ryuuko found out in the evening.

She had returned once more, to that loathsome sham of a dormitory, one that seemed design to rub raw whatever wounds she accumulated during the day. Returned to her room, and found her roommate missing.

Franz had moved out. He had moved out at the same time that Lucretia did, and the two of them became roommates in a new dormitory. The Universal Genius, the only man in the world who possessed even the slimmest possibility of realizing the holy grail of Mesmerology, simply chose allegiance with someone who had wealth and good reputation over someone who had neither. It was certainly one way, after all, to guarantee that Jeanne was punished.

It was disgusting. It took great restraint for Ryuuko to not burn them both to death.

But it proved it.

This was not the environment for her. Masking conservatism with progress. Maintaining a status quo rather than pushing boundaries. Laying invisible rule after invisible rule, believing that it was through conventions and traditions that innovation flourished. Backbiting, backstabbing, politicizing bastards, the lot of them.

If she could not reduce it to ash, then she would remove herself from it.




And when the fog parted ways, Jeanne stood before an airship, her hands once more bound in leather. Like this, an Egoist was unnecessary to supervise her, and the regular police force of Bermuda escorted her instead. Past the crowds of onlookers, up the stairs, into the bowels of the airship. As she disappeared from view, her eyes gazed back once more.

Searching for a particular face? Memorizing those she begrudged? Looking out at the paradise from which she's been exiled?

The doors closed.

Electricity crackled, granting power once more to the Pleizogravitas circuitry, as Steam Cores funneled their energy into the propellers that gave the airship velocity. Within minutes, the great vessel was off, crossing the great oceans to send the errant pyromaniac back to the land that still tolerated her ferocity.

Jeanne, with all her secrets, left behind naught but burned bridges and impassable rifts.

And for those who remained, what was held in their hearts? Apathy? Pity? Scorn? Joy?

Whatever emotions arose, it would be buried once more. As surely as the sun fell. As surely as the fog rose.

𝔸𝕣𝕔 𝟘 ; 𝔼𝕩𝕖𝕔𝕦𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 - 𝔽𝕚𝕟
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EE 87, May 9 | Afternoon
_______________________

The trial of Jeanne du Bordeaux had come to an end. It's verdict was unsurprising.

Few remained of Jeanne's defense team, though their little group would have come to an end either way once the trial was settled. After that night that Inti had ventured into the fog, he'd finally learned what had happened to the others. Nazca had been hospitalized after an encounter with some unseen 'monster' within the fog. Inti thought it was just was possible the monster was a person, but whatever was the truth didn't change the outcome. Bang had tended to her and watched over Jeanne, while Ryuuko and Franz took part in investigations of their own - which eventually led to the former leaving the island, and the later giving up the trial without a fight. If there was anything surprising about the events, it was that. Although Inti had foreseen the verdict, the lack of any fight was frustrating. After giving them all the information he'd learned after his meeting with the mysterious Mislava, he'd hoped to learn something during the debate, even if it was something minor.

Inti had spent the majority of the last two nights alone with himself, thinking. When he slept he didn't dream. Whenever Inti didn't feel like chatting with those he knew best, he'd taken to sitting outside Kalil's door and talking his thoughts aloud. Whether the shut-in was listening or not wasn't as important as just getting the words out there into the world. Had he accomplished much of anything since arriving in Bermuda? Was he actually fulfilling his purpose, or did he have to start working harder? Now with Jeanne gone, he'd have to shift his short term goals.

He wanted to connect with people, that much as for certain. And the fog... he was even more curious about it now that he'd seen it firsthand. Especially since he couldn't manipulate it, which made it all the more curious. A bit dangerous too, but what boy - even lab-grown - didn't enjoy a bit of danger?

Whether Inti would stay in Bermuda or return to Tawantinsuyu was not his decision to make. As of now there was no reason that he would be recalled, and so he for the foreseeable future he would remain there. If he had any say in it though, he would choose to stay as well. There was still so much to learn to discover after all, there was too much he wanted to look into to leave. Today he'd seen Jeanne off, like so many other students. Tomorrow, it would be the start of the next chapter of his experience.
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Valeriya Zhukova


Well, that entire affair had been a considerable waste of time, all things considered. Shou may have been tolerable, but Valeriya had been very unimpressed with Ryuuko after that absolute debacle with the Manbat. So when the Japanese girl simply left the island after the trial, Valeriya was about as sad to see her go as she had been with Jeanne. In other words, she practically celebrated by having a few drinks and hopping into someone else's bed for the night.

Speaking of beds, the news that Lucretia was moving out of her dorm and rooming with that Mesmerology hack Franz took Valeriya by surprise as much as anyone else. Given how socially stunted the girl was, she hadn't exactly given Val much warning about what she was going to do. Not that Valeriya was going to take offense. She didn't have all the information, and for all she knew, the little German was rooming with the Austrian because she needed someone more pliable or pathetic to dorm with. Oh, well. At least privacy issues were much less of a concern now that she had an entire dorm to herself.

Once everything with the trial was said and done, Valeriya dutifully drafted another coded report back to the Motherland, sending it off as soon as she was able. Within it was a brief summary of the situation, as well as details of the major players that she'd been involved with. So the Manbat, Shou, and Ryuuko.

Days after everything had settled down, Valeriya returned to her ideal routine. Working on her projects, experiencing world cuisine around the island's restaurants, and generally just enjoying herself as she awaited further orders from her handlers.
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Hana Yun


Jeanne's sentence and departure was the expected result, and nothing quite seemed off about it to Hana. Probably, if not her, someone else who have been made an example, by now. Still, there was a fair amount of to do about defending her, from what she read in the papers. Perhaps nothing had come of it after all. Ryuuko was more of a surprise, but certainly she had her own reasons.

Hana had, for the most part, judiciously avoided the major events of the past few days. She was certainly adjacent to it, as she'd treated a few of those more closely involved, but beyond the crops of injuries sustained at night to pique her interest, she still didn't get directly involved. Certainly, she would have to break curfew, and soon, to see what all the fuss was about.

In the meantime, though, she set about establishing herself on Bermuda. She found a good space for a laboratory, and claimed it, and made the rounds of the local hospitals and the like to make sure they knew of her and how to contact her. Hopefully, the times when her talents would be needed would be rare enough, but it never hurts to get the word out. And, for that matter, get closer to any cases that were particularly severe. As that would probably mean either someone had a really impressive lab accident, or more interesting reasons behind the injuries.
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Shou Zheng


"Hrm..." Looking down at the report that detailed his activities and discoveries on the island since his arrival, Shou noted the numerous dots that decorated the page's corner. His pen had left such marks from being tip tapped against it as he wondered if there was anything else he needed to write back home about. Clearly not though if his mind had began to wander about like such. Waving the pages gently through the air to make sure nothing smudged, he folded up the sheets and tucked them away in an envelope.

The recent departures weren't much to cry over. It would have only been a matter of time before the two unpredictable firebrands set something else alight, and that wasn't exactly Shou's brand of excitement. He did include the pertinent details on his report back home, but otherwise that was about all that they were relevant to him.

Despite not knowing what dangers lurked in the fogs after curfew, Shou didn't let that stop his nightly ventures outside. He spent his days healing from what his body was subjected to, but the injuries and wounds were only temporary for however terrible they may have been. Flesh reknit and regrew, better than before, and in time he'd be able to push through and explore further. The occasional lesson and lecture also occupied his time as he collected random scraps of knowledge that caught his attention, but the days passed by rather simply.

He really did need to find another Egoist to spar with at some point...
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𝔸𝕣𝕔 𝟙 ; 𝔽𝕒𝕤𝕔𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟
EE 87, May 12 | Morning


Four days had passed since the anticlimatic end to the du Bourdeaux trial, one that had already been forgotten about by the second day. After all, while Jeanne herself was an individual of infamy, every student in Bermuda had an exceptional story or two dogging their trail, and the Bermuda Triangle’s news cycle continued unabashedly, picking up everything from salacious snippets of the luxuries that old-wealth Polymaths indulged in without the collars of their family, to the highlights of whatever social events that secret societies and student unions hosted. International news was swinging in curious directions as well, with the civil war in the Ottoman Empire slowly drawing in the surrounding nations, vultures who offered funds and recognized sovereignty in exchange for plucking pieces of land out from the decaying carcass that was the Ottomans.

But while all that was fascinating for the well-read, well-educated students of the academic island, on the morning of the 12th of May, there was something else to get excited about. The Chipperfield’s Circus, the world-touring extravaganza that featured performers from all the greatest nations in the world, was coming to Bermuda! Already, space was being made at Docks and Storage to accommodate the flamboyant airships that made up the Chipperfield fleet, replete as they were with exotic animals from both the Far East and the Far West, and from the news article itself, it looked as if their performance would be on the 15th of May, starting early in the evening and ending thirty minutes before curfew! Of course, recordings would be made for those workaholics too occupied to attend, and depending on the tickets one got, purchasing a recording may even be a better experience!

It was funny, perhaps, that curfew was still omnipresent. But it was only funny to those who had not yet plunged into the mists. No major incidents occurred, however, and indeed, while the mist itself still plunged the island in a state where one could hardly see two meters ahead of them, no students who broke curfew ended up amnesiac anymore. Had the problem been resolved, all by itself?

Or was this simply a stroke of good fortune?

It was hard to say, but for the astute observers, for those who made it their work to sacrifice sleep in return for plunging into the fog every night, they would notice something. Substanceless shadows no longer flicked out of the corner of their vision. But…was the fog itself gradually growing thicker?

A circus that travelled the four corners of the world, and a meteorological anomaly that seemed to gradually grow in intensity. Opportunities for rogues’ work and mysteries that deepened. The stage was indeed set then, for the spy’s work to truly begin.
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Bunga has no idea what to do for the next couple of days. Most of her time was spent lazing around in the bed, just straight up confused as to what to do next. The sleeping potion James gave to her was still hanging around on her study table, unused and unspent. “Ugh, how will I get to Nazca now… all avenues I have for meeting her are gone right now.”

Well, whatever. One avenue might be gone, but Bunga is sure that more opportunities will come to her in the future. She is, after all, primarily focused on her studies right now, with the spy thingy being more of a side gig thing more than her primary occupation. Indeed, the Nusantaran has learned many things about herself and her capabilities during that uneventful night, the limits of her hearing, sight, smell, and feel, all were useful information for her.

But, the morning is rising, and the fox girl knows that she cannot just wallow in her own room, thinking about what she can do to make that night work out even better. Resolving to better herself next time, the woman rose from her bed, took a quick shower, changed her clothes, and walked outside her dorm into Bermuda. Hoping that her day will end up much better than yesterday.

“Alright, what’s in store for me today?”
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