Fantasy Liberoc Conservatory for Knights and Mages

[abirdyofmanynames]

Liberoc Conservatory for Knights and Mages

MAGIC PARTY BUS INFO HERE


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“Knighthood lies above eternity; it doesn’t live off fame, but rather deeds.”
― Dejan Stojanovic

It is the last day before the beginning of the new school year. Most families have already headed back home, leaving students to adjust to life in the dorms. According to the calendar, today is meant to be a free day for everybody, so new students can get more familiar with fellow classmates and the school grounds. All the buildings and offices around campus are open for tours and questions. People are crowding the financial office, enrollment services, and academics department trying to resolve various discrepancies, such as class schedules, housing, and what one student is exclaiming is “a totally ridiculous list of prerequisites for a basic theory class”. The counseling office is handing out fliers with information promoting the various programs offered. Professors are bustling about the halls preparing for the first lessons. In the library, the Literature Club is already hard at work organizing the new influx of textbooks.

Around the student square, several tables and booths have popped up for club rush. In addition, there are others promoting job opportunities and internships, such as the Aleshire Equestrian Care Program. The Liberoc Student Store are raffling out free school supplies and swag, while the Pumpkin Spice is handing out samples for their new pumpkin coffee cakes. Over at the Three Merry Ladies, the knights have set up a number of tables to rally together newbies to join their crazy and downright silly challenges. They are currently trying to play some magicked version of beer pong using charmed glasses that seem to like hopping across the tables and spilling their content upon the losers. Or winners. It's honestly hard to tell.

While there is plenty of music playing here, there is a clear sense of unease. The staff doesn’t seem to want to talk about it, but the students are whispering to one another trying to learn more about what really went down Friday night. The night the four dorm heads vanished. While there are plenty of rumors and speculations flying around, none seems to be actually supported by any proof.

The scheduling says that there will be a big feast in the Dining Hall around 6pm to kick off the annual back to school party. Returning students can recall how festive the event typically is. With dancing, games, and plenty of socializing, this mixer is usually the first major event of the whole year. Many are wondering what kind of party it will be with this mystery lingering in the air or if it is even in good taste to throw it so soon. Only time will tell.

Until then, the day is yours.

 

[theunearthlyfool]

Their first weekend on the Liberoc Conservatory campus, Noelle Wright had been dragging her twin brother Michael around as she joyously explored their new home. He indulged her, as he always did, though he had to agree it was an amazing place; they'd never attended an actual magical school, so their time here so far had been a complete novelty.

But Michael was the introvert to Noelle's extrovert, and after a busy morning it became apparent he was getting very 'people-d out'. As such, she steered them toward the only place he actually wanted to visit (although it was on her list as well): the High Tower Observatory.

She looped her arm through her brother's as they walked. "Thank you for letting me drag you around all weekend."

He nodded, looking down at his feet.

Noelle wasn't the type to think through what she said before speaking. She took a breath, then blurted, "It's just we won't be seeing each other all the time anymore! We're taking all these different classes… You're even in a different dorm! What's with that, bro??"

This got a smile out of him. "We're taking two of the same classes, versus technically none in high school," he reminded her. "And anyway, I like it at Alarbor, everyone's really cool." Tossing his head to brush hair out of his eyes, he glanced over at her. "I really think you'd like it too. Y'know, if you decide you truly can't live without me."

Noelle smiled back. "Nah, we all know Wandwick is perfect for me."

"That's true."

They approached the Observatory and she let his arm go. They'd been having conversations resembling this one for months now. "It's just gonna suck not having you around as much to go on adventures with me."

Michael threw her a dubious look that clearly said when have you ever needed me to go on an adventure? Aloud, he teased, "you mean bail you out when you stick your nose someplace it doesn't belong."

His sister's laugh echoed around the Observatory's entryway. "I guess I do have a tendency to meddle," she agreed.

He was smiling, but there was a distinct tone of concern in his voice as he went on. "Sometimes you need someone to reel you back in."

"Uh, okay." The mirth faded from Noelle's face. She stopped and pulled him to one side of the hall. "What are you, our mother? Do you think I can't take care of myself?"

Michael grimaced. "Uh, no, I definitely know you can. It's just…"

She noticed his hand stray to the pocket of his jeans, where a familiar rectangle was outlined: his phone. Noelle's eyes narrowed. "She told you to keep an eye on me, didn't she?"

He didn't have to answer. It had been so difficult to get their mom to leave when their parents had dropped them off here, that they'd actually stayed a whole extra day longer than they'd been meant to. No one who had ever met Dr. Jersey Wright would deny that she was more than a little overprotective of her kids.

"She caught wind of the news about the dorm heads going missing and it worried her," Michael said. "That's all."

Noelle sighed loudly and leaned back against the wall. "I'm not saying that isn't concerning, but it doesn't have anything to do with us. We only met them for like five seconds, anyway."

Her brother gave his trademark shrug. I don't know what to tell you, it said.

"Well, I want to keep exploring and you need a break. But I won't leave the Observatory without you, I promise."

Leaving Michael in his happy place (the music rooms) to recharge, Noelle set off. She was a thorough adventurer, wandering every nook and cranny of a place until she met a dead end or a locked door. Though she would be spending lots of time here soon for her performing arts classes, there was much more to the High Tower than the galleries and performance spaces. She was sure to find something interesting sooner or later…

 

[theunderwolf]

The quite simple fact was that it might be impossible. This of course made it all the more compelling. Gwen rubbed around her eyes, her nerves ached as they connected to the magicked prosthesis. She had to remember to blink every once in a while. Even if they couldn't dry they could still collect flecks of dust, especially in an environ where constant grinding, drilling and etching could make cutting flakes aplenty. Outside, the sun had risen a very long time ago and the buzz of people and advertisement managed to clatter its way through the thin windows and furnace chimney. Gwen, a tad annoyed for an impossible reason made a sharp sound with her tongue. Like a child caught napping a large pocket watch jumped to its pudgy feet and ran over, arms trailing behind itself. Another possible flaw. Would it have been better if she had imbued its arms with the necessary animating motions to simulate the balanced sway bipeds used? The watchbot skidded to a stop and popped itself open. 1pm. If nothing else she was sure the watch was accurate. The bot functioned, and its clockwork core ticked seconds as a heartbeat. She was being mentally harsh to the small friend. She decided. It's awkward gait was endearing. She gently patted the top of the watch, an action that both closed the bot's clock-face and indicated affection and approval to its learning rune matrices. But then, her annoyance and focus came from other sources. She should be at the non-magical self defense club. The club leader had said that she didn't need to come in a way that indicated she should in fact go. She should also have slept at some point in the last... 24? 24.43. Hours? however if she wanted to be awake for classes, she would have to push through a bit more or her rhythm would be off. Finally there was the arm.
The piece in front of her had all the hallmarks of a first fabrication. Parts of it, where she was sure of the design, were intricately wrought and well made with unerring precision. Others were unacceptably sloppy, fit for only being the place holders they were. The effect it gave was muddled and frustrating. The arm, meant for a mage who had lost their foci hand, needed to fulfil the duel purpose of fully functional limb while also being a conduit that could interface with the mage's chosen focii. She was jealous of biologians sometimes. They did not have to reinvent the wheel nearly as much as she did. She almost snorted (Actually snorting would blow far to much dust and debris everywhere) at least she understood how her simulacrums worked, kept them rooted in the understanding. Except for the arm. She working with too many kinds of energy transfer. Parts melted, batteries and runes overloaded leaving what should be an exceptional limb a slagged mess. She wasn't going to get anymore work done today. She stood and walked to the desk opposite the workshop's entrance. kneeling down, she flipped over the sleeping bag she stashed and used to find a note

Gwen,
Though I wish you would stop working, I know your work is super important! I left you some food and a change of clothes, stay healthy and please actually come by the dorm sometimes, we all miss you
-AA

There was no food of course, Albena had left the note nearly a year ago, after Gwen had first formed a tacit gentlewoman's agreement with Professor Reis that let her overnight in the lab. However Gwen had formed the habit of leaving her changes of clothes and other necessities under the note, lest they be lost in the shuffle of the endless pieces of scrap-metal bits and all the other knick-knacks she needed to do her work. Albena had been missing for nearly that long too. The note was the last piece of communication between them. Gwen missed her, another wave of guilt passing through. She did not blame herself, but wished she had spent more time with her dorm leader (Who she may have had a bit of a puppy crush on). That water under the bridge, Gwen dressed in clean clothes and washed her hair in a uility sink, then used a quick charm to dry it. There. Now food.

Bracing herself for, people, she stepped out and went hunting for sustinence.

 

[Nimbus]

So far, Morinobu Ren was having a disappointing first day of school. He'd lost count of the ridiculous number of stairs up the tower not so long after he passed the triple digit mark.

He had put forth every argument to bear on why he should be allowed into his first choice dormitory. Drachuer, built for the closest analogue the world of mages had to nobility, best prepared a student of pedigree for casual interaction with their peers.

Was it his ambition for reform itself that got his application "misplaced" in the first? Surely he wasn't the first youth with a different interpretation of the Dresseler motto, was he?

The beads at his wrists grew warm. A lilting voice fluttered in his mind, melting into the precise and violent rhythm of heeled brogues pummeling the stairs.

Humans are afraid of change. It's like fire. They all say they enjoy its warmth. But after they touch it once, they flinch at the slightest sign of smoke. Shy from the tiniest spark, even if it's from a fire they created. Weird, isn't it?

Oh gods please, Mo sighed internally, I have too many problems to deal with right now than the philosophical musings of dead priestesses. Amaterasu's dead priestess wasn't wrong, which was maybe the worst part.

To be honest, he'd been a little bit scared to wake up today. At orientation, it was easier to float along the campus, to take up space in the halls of the buildings and, as if he wanted to spite or surprise all who knew him, follow Vassilissa, Haru, the too-smiley guy, or the dark haired woman who glanced back at him when she thought he was focused on admiring the architecture.

But Mo knew he was going back, when the weekend was over. Back to the porch swing and the sweltering heat and no-one who cared to peel away all his sealed secrets, if they could to begin with.

All this magic was going to ruin him. And now that he crossed the river, there was no way he could just hop back on the ferry. No flying back to Tokyo - either on a plane, or otherwise.

Morinobu would need to survive four years without losing control. He didn't even know if he'd be himself that long.

A distant crow's sharp caw laughed at the latecomer freshman and his jitters. His left foot slipped. He gasped too quickly.

Remember to breathe. You come from a long and highly competent line of exorcists. Ghosts are nothing new for any of us, especially you.

The left toe met a patch of rough stone. A breath. Grit hissed as rubber soles slid further in. Another breath. The right foot forged ahead. Another breath. The left foot slapped the next step sharper than he expected. But that didn't matter. He was moving forward. He could breathe properly again.

He fished out a paperback copy of Kokoro - with a spell, naturally - and flipped through its pages. He wasn't really reading it intently. He was still at the part where Sensei was denying the narrator and everyone else in the world the pleasure of a graveyard stroll.

His social strategy at Liberoc, part one, was to make alliances with elites outside of Japan. A key component was to be accepted into Drachuer, most selective and vaunted of the dormitory buildings. True, it was probably an echo chamber today. But with a smaller number of hearts and minds to win over, his ideas had a better chance of being fostered and accepted there.

If other exceptional mages like himself happened to take notice of him, he didn't care if they crawled up from a hole in the ground to get to Liberoc. The more he traveled and the more he researched, Ren realized that bloodlines were only a part of the potential equation for a magic that excels under dire circumstances. And old mage bloodlines, unfortunately, didn't always result in powerful spellcasters or innovative minds.

He was very prepared to debate this in Draucher his first year, if only to ensure that the present generations of the families he wanted to make an impression upon did not grow complacent. Now, he had been cut out from this.

Had there been one wound, one clean cut to his pride, Mo would have accepted the circumstances and vowed to switch dorms next year. But he'd been first struck by the absence of a certain dragon emblem in the contents of his acceptance letter. Confused, he phoned...in the obscure, magical sense. He spent the whole damn weekend staring into a fucking bathtub, getting bounced around from department to department. And during orientation, a redux of that experience happened in the campus administration building.

After all that, any person with a reasonable understanding that their valuable time was being wasted would flip. Maybe they wouldn't menace an administrative lackey by levitating her desk. But when you're a magical prodigy, you certainly could do worse than that to get what you want. Not that any of that was even necessary. The desk levitation was on its way to working Penny O'Moony of the obsessively cleansed name placard, the fifteen apologies and precisely arranged ink pens. The frazzled redhead assured that both he and his sister's accounts were settled up for the year. She was just about to tell Morinobu who he should actually have been directed to the first time when a sharp click cut through the soft shuffling of gravity and recycled air currents acting on paper.

Urobuchi Haru and his soft, even voice filled the threshold of the room. Soon, casual banter and whispered bribes of peeks into unofficial dorm facilities convinced Mo to drop the levitating desk - far away from Miss O'Moony's fetching pointy-toed pumps. The only other necessary magic, by way of apology, was Morinobu's tidying-up of the scattered papers, pens, and other office accoutrements. Penny complained the stacks of papers weren't organized right. Morinobu offered to re-sort all the papers into whatever passed as "better organization" at Liberoc. But she declined her offer, shooing both him and Haru away.

Even though he had asked nicely to keep the story of that incident under wraps, it would probably get out eventually, one way or the other. He'd need to perform some bigger, more public magic to eclipse that - and soon.

As he reminisced on what Urobuchi offered in the aftermath, Morinobu took the steps two at a time.

"You wanna see Lamb about your letter, yeah? He might not be in his office now anyway. How about I walk you there after the dorm tour?"

Haru's voice was light, yet carried the gravity of a real promise. How did he make it so that you felt he cared about you - specifically you, among the thousands of other students matriculating today - and yet not make it into a big production? Morinobu could see what made Misa, in her words, "stan that man to Mars and back."

Today, Mo hoped Haru was eating something at least a little better for him than pizza and getting the rest he deserved. Even though Adolf Lamb declined to reconsider his application for the freshman-in-name-only. The Head of Enrollment Services cited that unfortunately it was too late in the year to wedge a new student into a dorm of his own at Draucher. He suggested, with a tight smile, to try again next year.

Because of course everyone this year wanted their own dorm. Probably for different reasons than his own. Morinobu wouldn't mind a roommate if he didn't have his secrets.

Morinobu Ren knew he wasn't terribly old, but he felt ancient, having to re-introduce different versions of himself to people who thought he knew him. The confusion of once again having to know himself, learn the boundaries of his body and relearn secreting all this away under layers of illusion and distraction.

As his stacks of beads clacked together on his wrists, a family koan came to mind. "The root of the lotus is persistent," or some other such nonsense. Translation was never his strong suit - and more evidence he was not "Japanese enough" for his blood. In a way, he was creating his own koan: Never borrow what you can create. If he struggled with a language, he could always create a new one - a secret one, for spells and notebooks only.

The muse struck Morinobu. He would create a truly definitive reason for Draucher House to accept him. Prove he could work with Vassilissa to rejuvenate Drachuer from the inside out. He'd make a project of this year. Was earning a Mastery title too ambitious? If someone else already achieved it in their first year, that might not be enough.

Mo chose Liberoc because it was far from the disapproving glares of his parents, true. But this college was also meant to present a challenge for him. Some elusive problem that could be solved with a spell he creates. A whole branch of magical theory he could bring into practice. Or maybe the campus itself contained a mystery he could coax out.

All the possibilities gave him a stomach full of butterflies and an unbidden lightness. Today, he would make his intentions known - at least to the bones of this building. He was so close to reaching the upper floors, which, if he remembered correctly, had windows where you could see the edges of Drachuer.

If he felt a failure, a fraud, upon seeing the prestigious dormitory from that great height, he'd throw himself a thirty minute pity party. Shout his frustrations to the observatory ceiling, and then slide down the banister in search of second breakfast. Or was it thirdmeal already? After food, he could set to preparing some extra large spell or the other. One that could cover a sizable swath of campus. Maybe he'd turn all the leaves on the trees black. Or maybe just glamour them so they looked on fire. He could do a pretty rendition of both, if he used a charm for fox-fire. He'd see how he felt.

The staircase was widening, and he knew his release would come soon. In anticipation, he started to peel away some of the illusions smoothing out the scars and erasing his ink.

But then he heard voices. He stopped his trek up the stairs. Around the next corner, somewhere. Shit. Balls. Too close. Two voices way too close to just turn and start walking back down the stairs like he never intended to crash whatever party was going on in the observatory. Especially if it was a party of two.

Morinobu looked down at his hands, half wondering if he should just illusion himself to blend in with the stairwell, hug the wall and wait until they walked down past him to let out his breath. Soon, he thought better of it. They could be up here for hours. He couldn't sustain experimental magic for that long without a serious toll on his system. And then he noticed he couldn't see the hands he clearly held out in front of him.

Shitballs. He did it again. He held his breath too long and activated the catalyst for "Invisible Man." In practice it was less invisibility and more adaptive camouflage fed through an engine of ambient geomancy. Not that it mattered. Since the important point was to tether it to something you wanted to blend in with its surroundings. Aaaand he had gone and tethered it to himself. Genius.

Note to self: continue to try to correct the side effects of those experiments you did. Also, remember to not experiment while inebriated. That way you'll disappear the bottle of whiskey like you intended, instead of yourself, you jackass.

His present state solved one problem. But before he dashed off to avoid either of colliding with his accidentally invisibile ass, he heard the softer, deeper voice pinch with subdued indignation as it mentioned, "….news about the dorm heads going missing-"

Missing? Dorm heads, as in more than one? Did he hear that right?

Morinobu's heart hammered in his ears. The most trusted and capable students on campus couldn't be missing. He had questions for all of them. An entire design for tea and a long chat with Vassilissa that could have been considered near enough to a date if they had been one another's respective types. He wanted to ask Captain Smiles why he smiled so damn much, and if his face ever hurt from sticking like that. Maybe it did. Maybe it was a curse from a great-aunt with a shitty taste in birthday gifts or something. If so, Mo could relate, in a way. He definitely needed to know what the dark haired woman's deal was. Did she have beef with him for existing? Well, she could get in line. She might have a scary face, but that wouldn't deter him. He could make a scarier one, if all else failed. And then, Haru...

"Haru," Morinobu breathed. His chest ached, and not just because his nails slipped through the gaps in his flannel as he clutched it. Haru had understood Morinobu's pain of rejection, accepting that Mo was crashing in the dorm his sister adopted - she declined Draucher's prestigious invitation for reasons he couldn't fathom. But, thinking back on all those small but significant gestures, maybe, just maybe, he was beginning to understand.

Haru dropped by the common room on the late nights where Morinobu poured over theory, two mugs of steaming hot drink in hand. He brought out cider or hot chocolate when Mo was in need of a calorie boost. Haru seemed to know when Mo was just flagging. Those nights he arrived with the exact coffee order the new student placed at orientation. Haru had so much to do, much more to think about, surely, and yet he remembered the tiniest details about a guy who was literally crashing on his sister's couch (in an annex, on the other side of a spatially expanded closet) because he had no fucking plan.

Urobuchi Haru took care of his people for the simple fact that he wanted to. Lots of people pretended to, running on the assumption of an understood transaction. Too much of Tokyo was a contract. Morinobu left for that reason, even though his fool self knew he would be homesick and lovesick. But at Melkarid, he somehow became one of Haru's people. And he wasn't even intending to stay. He told Haru as much after he was presented with a whole ass home-cooked meal. The sort his mother should have made. Maybe even one she would have attempted to make for him on his birthday, if he wasn't such a bastard.

There were a precious few people Morinobu Ren would give up anything and everything for, no questions asked.

That number increased by one when Haru replied, "Ah, wherever you choose to live, it's cool. Your heart's set on Draucher. Hope you can get in. But if not, you should go where you think you'll be happiest. It's chill if it's not here. It's not like you're trading entry to one dorm for another or whatever that stupid letter makes it out to be. You can hang at Melkarid anytime."

Of course, Morinobu dropped his chopsticks like a child and ruined the moment. Haru just laughed and fished out another pair. He laughed a great deal more when Mo asked if Haru was sure he wasn't an empath or a mind reader or something.

Gods, Morinobu didn't even thank him for the meal, did he? And now….there was a chance he never could. When was the last time he saw Haru? Last night? Where? Who was he with? His head began to throb. His jaw would be next. That would be harder to suppress. Despite his Invisible Man spell, he panicked.

No, not here! Not where people might see!

Ren Morinobu wasn't even through his first day here and he was falling apart. Though he only slumped down the wall to fold into himself on the step, he felt as though he was falling down the stairs in slow motion.

Another voice - higher, louder and more like Misa's than he felt comfortable with - replied, "...it doesn't have anything to do with us. We only met them for like five seconds anyways."

What if the other freshmen shared the same attitude as this flip little girl? What if everyone else was too busy, or not bothered enough to look for Haru?

Though he felt as graceful as an infant buffalo, Ren Morinobu managed to slide up to a standing position, using the wall for support.

He couldn't, wouldn't deal with another disappearance by running away. He owed so much of his peace of mind to Haru...and Misa. Gods, his sister will be devastated the moment she finds out. She was on good terms with Vassilissa, too. Maybe even the other dorm heads. She'd been handling all the shit that happened over the last couple years without coming a single stitch undone. She found the right ratios of safety and freedom at Liberoc. Mo wouldn't let anything steal what Misa rightfully deserved away from her.

The first voice, which he took to calling the source due to it's less distinct qualities, belonged to someone who knew how not to make any noise. Mo didn't know where exactly that one had gone to.

However, the flippant girl held no such pretensions. Comfortable in her designer everything, she breezed right past Morinobu, broadcasting every step and swish as she all but jogged down the stairs. Not due to a lack of bodily awareness, but because of it.

Mo trailed her down the stairs with ease, falling in line with her shadow. He checked every once in a while to determine if his invisibility had worn off. When he could see his hands clearly, he tapped her on the shoulder. A part of him wanted to grip the girl who'd dismissed four missing students like her classes were canceled for the day and shake her. But a more insistent part of him feared hurting her, like he could any other fragile human. Mo shook his head and blinked all those strange, invasive thoughts away. Yes, hurting someone you wanted information from wasn't the best way to begin most conversations. More importantly, it was incredibly rude and cruel to want to hurt someone because you could. He knew that, just like he knew how to button collared shirts and fold pocket squares. He removed his hand at once.

Tch. Stupid animal brain.

Morinobu Ren took a deep, steadying breath and checked to make sure his face was appropriate before he spoke, gravely solemn:

"Excuse me, Miss. I - there's something I need to know, if you know for certain. Which of the dorm heads are missing?"

 

[theunearthlyfool]

She didn't think she was too zoned out to notice someone walk up behind her. But apparently she was, because when a hand touched her shoulder Noelle shrieked in surprise. Heart pounding, she whirled around, her hands leaping up to an almost defensive stance that she felt silly for immediately.

Several emotions played out on the face of the person who'd snuck up on her, but finally settled on serious concern. "Excuse me, Miss. I- there's something I need to know, if you know for certain. Which of the dorm heads are missing?"

Noelle stared cluelessly at him for entirely too long, sure she looked like an idiot. Why ask me? she wondered, but finally said, "...All of them? Owen, um, Pilar I think is her name? And the others."

The worry on the man's face was contagious; Noelle frowned, the adrenaline in her system beginning to fade. "It's been a few days, people are starting to get real concerned. Kind of all anyone's talking about right now actually." She reached for a strand of her long brown hair, wrapping and unwrapping it around a finger absentmindedly. Who was this, to not know about the topic on everyone's lips?

Fantastic possibilities danced through her overactive imagination. A ghost? A time traveler? An eccentric genius who rarely ventured out of the Tower? The latter was most likely: ghosts and time travel probably, sadly, weren't real. And if this was a ghost he likely couldn't reach out and touch her (or be such a trendy dresser). Then again, this was magic college; who knew?

All this flew through her head in the space of a few seconds. "Sorry you had to find out from a stranger! Unfortunately I don't really know anything more than that, and I'd hate to spread rumors of course. I've only been at Liberoc for like a week or so. How about you? Were you friends with them?"

Noelle paused, realizing she was starting to babble. She sized up the person before her: a student? A professor? She was terrible at guessing people's ages. Either way, he gave her the impression of having a mysterious and fascinating past. She hoped her rambling wouldn't scare him off, for he seemed like someone she'd like to get to know (you want to get to know everyone, she could just hear Michael teasing her).

"I'm Noelle Wright, by the way!" Here she dropped the lock of hair and offered her hand to shake, as well as her most charming smile. "It's lovely to meet you! Sorry also for screaming, you really surprised me."

 

[Nimbus]

As soon as Morinobu Ren touched the girl's shoulder, she shrieked. He flinched away, the noise amplifying the twinge in his temple.

Gods, she looked young. Maybe it was just the princess bangs and the quizzical look she gave him.

Mo wondered if he scared her so much she couldn't speak. He smoothed back his hair, relieved to discover everything was as he'd pomaded it this morning. Why was this girl still looking at him like he'd suddenly sprouted horns?

Just when he thought he might have to let drop he definitely heard her comment on the news, she admitted, "...all of them."

Morinobu could feel the vise on his chest tighten at the revelation. His brows furrowed deeper as she listed the names of the other dorm heads and revealed that their last known appearances on campus were past the 48 hour mark.

All four of them disappearing days ago would be the worst case scenario - and the most obvious to connect to foul play. If one or more of them were on campus longer, then began a search for their fellows, there was a chance that they would have gathered their thoughts on where the first of the missing would have gone and, hopefully, left them somewhere he could find.

Gods, Haru would've searched for anyone without a second thought. Oh. There went the last scraps of his heart. Mo would have to drown all these feelings later with large quantities of booze and Joy Division.

As his heart was breaking, the girl spouted off information at around ninety miles per hour: student, fresh off the ferry, nervous fidget, busybody who claimed not to be a gossip, most likely preferred vocal spellcasting and would be skilled as a speed duelist if she avoided distractions. The brunette confirmed she only had the most minor connection to the dorm heads, which could be expected if she was new. And then, she asked him if any of them were his friends.

Fingers of one hand running through the back of his close-trimmed hair, he felt suddenly silly as he answred, "Yeah, Haru - he's the head of Melkarid - he and I, ah, I guess you could say we became friends this year. I know Vassilissa too, but more by the loose orbit of our social circles."

Mo made a sort of wavey gesture he wasn't even sure he fully understood. Then he stood up straighter.

"Regardless, all four of them surely mean something to others on campus. You don't get those kinds of positions without a significant amount of support from the campus population. And what troubles me is there hasn't been an official announcement yet. It just, doesn't sit right."

No one is looking for Haru, or Vass - or Oliver and Pilar. Why wouldn't the college say so? Why weren't there Ambassadors on site, conducting an investigation? Or at least members of the faculty taking on that task before the semester got underway.

Surely none of them would spring for an irresponsible binge weekend like he would - like he had, in fact, off and on during his summer on the road. Haru certainly wouldn't. They cared about the school. Liberoc cared a little bit more about them than the average student, didn't they? Even if not, they wanted their students to feel safe...oh gods large and small, what if someone was using magic to make everyone feel as though they were safe, even with this knowledge? It was a sort of forbidden art, in a theoretical sense. But if there was anyone who understood how narrow the gap between theory and practice could be, it was Morinobu.

Well that settled it. Morinobu Ren would postpone his date with Gin and Morrissey. He'd start looking for clues to the disappearances - starting with whether or not they disappeared all at once.

The girl - Noelle - couldn't look more pleased to meet him. Then, she had her hand out like she wanted to shake his. Oh. Right. He supposed that introductions were in order, now that he'd gotten what information he could from her.

"Morinobu Ren. Charmed," he'd started, surprised that he was, actually, honestly charmed by this strange girl, no magic or masque necessary.

He took her hand in his with the same sort of gentle, tactile examination one might use for a less-than-hardy sapling grown in an glasshouse. In his experience, men who shook your hand too hard felt as though they had everything to prove to you, or expected to get their hands on you in other places later. Men who made non-handshakes entirely were afraid - and probably with good cause - that they didn't measure up. Or they were germaphobes too polite to mention that they were averse to the notions of hands touching bare skin entirely. Poor lads were missing out.

Morinobu gave Noelle a solid but measured handshake: performative enough to not scream ulterior motives, but not so faux to indicate a flakey disposition. Wars were won with handshakes, after all.

It appeared that Morinobu had won this new student over. She even apologized for her earlier shriek. Small victories stack up. He wondered who else she might mention the encounter to.

"Oh, no, please, I should apologize to you, for startling you in the first place. I didn't intend to catch you quite so off your guard."

He gave a brief, dry chuckle for effect and settled his right hand low on the strap of his leather satchel.

"Thank you for telling me what you can, Miss Wright. I trust you'd indulge me with any further news, should you hear of it?"

 

[abirdyofmanynames]

Out in the quad, the club rush was still underway. Those that were still able to put on good faces- either because they did not know the rumors or had chosen to not believe them- ran booths of all sizes and colors. One orange one in particular displayed an animated banner a mage doing some sweet flips, declaring that the newly created boarding club was recruiting. A sun-kissed blonde in boardshorts and a godzilla tank top was handing out flyers to anybody who would pass by. She called out in a strongly Australian accent, “Feeling bored? Learn to board! Skateboard, surfboard, and skating lessons!” Meanwhile, a guy in green balanced on a longboard while drinking a capri sun. He wore headphones and seemed much less interested in conversing than his companion. As Gwen walked by, the girl attempted to flag down the artificer, “Heyo! Every new member gets free lessons! All skill levels welcome!”

The silent fellow in green pointed to an ice bucket by their table. It was filled with more juice packets. He finished the one he was working on and promptly plucked out another, stabbed it, and went back to what he had been doing before.

“Oh yeah! And ya get a free juice if you take a flyer or pin!” the blonde added with a grin. “So what’cha think?”

 

[theunearthlyfool]

The man grew more worried as Noelle went on. The grinding gears of his thoughts were visible in his eyes, although he listened attentively.

But that came to a halt with her last question, and she feared she may have gone too far. It had seemed an innocent query, but given the subject matter… he almost bashfully admitted his newfound friendship with the head of Melkarid. Noelle could've kicked herself for being so insensitive. Of course they were his friends, why else would he have asked?

His next remarks confirmed it, and got her to thinking as well. The whole scenario would've been exciting if it wasn't happening to real people; people who were obviously cared for a great deal by their friends and classmates. It was odd, now that he mentioned it. Even with everything else she'd been focused on, the past few days Noelle had been all over campus- and Michael had been with her. Her brother was right, she could be a busybody. He was far more observant than her, too. So even if she hadn't heard an announcement or noticed somebody looking into it, she was sure Michael would have. And he would've said something. After all, the rumors alone were enough for him to mention it to their parents.

So deep in thought, Noelle forgot she'd been holding a hand out for the man to shake until he finally took it. Morinobu- Mr. Ren, she supposed, if he'd called her Miss Wright- grasped her hand so gently she didn't know how to react at first. Her mother had long worked in a male-dominated field and tried to teach Noelle to not, as she called it, "have a wimpy handshake". But he was very pleasant, his laugh putting her more at ease. "Ah, no worries," she replied. "I guess I was just really lost in my own head!

"But gosh, of course! I'm happy you thought it was helpful; I didn't exactly do much." Her smile faded, a look of thoughtful concern replacing it. "You're right, something feels weird. My brother and I have been all over campus this weekend and everyone just seems..." Noelle struggled with how to describe the energy she'd felt. "I don't know. I suppose I understand not wanting to start a panic, but you think the school would be open about wanting people to come forward with information, to help find four whole missing people?"

She affected her brother's expressive shrug. "Maybe I'm reading too much into it, I don't know. I'm sorry something so worrisome happened to your friends. But if they're the heads of the dorms, I'm sure they're capable people." Noelle thought about the brief time she'd spent with Owen, and even shorter experience with Pilar, who headed Michael's dorm. Both of them had seemed… well, unflappable. She smiled again, reassuringly this time. "They'll be okay.

"And yes, I'll absolutely hit you up if I learn anything! How can I find you? Are you staying in Melkarid?" She started digging in her little purse for a scrap of paper and pencil. "I'm in Wandwick, but I'm also in the Bard programme so I'll be here in the Tower a lot. In case you ever need to find me, I mean. Or just-" she scribbled her name and a phone number in a looping, not-quite cursive handwriting and offered it to her new acquaintance, beaming. "Text me!"

 

[Nimbus]

Morinobu Ren had too many thoughts to contend with to be certain, but he guessed at some point he might be pleased his first interrogation into the disappearances went more like a platonic meet cute and less like you'd see in a police procedural drama. He supposed it helped to start a little deferential next time, like he did with Noelle. Looks like he did learn more in Japan than just geomancy. Hah, take that old man Ren!

Noelle agreed the strange hush around the four missing students was concerning but thought they would be alright. But he didn't think she would admit that crush of uncertainty in the air if she were under the haze of someone's enchantment. Mo might have scoffed a little at her chronic optimism anyway.

His arms grew goosebumps as the beads around his wrists turned fresh-from-the-freezer cold. So the boss man wanted to put in his two cents here?

Oh, sweet summer child! The girl doesn't know what all is out there in the wide world, does she? Should we show her?

Well, Mo couldn't argue there. But he wasn't going to relay that message to Noelle. Next time the eye of night wanted to chitchat, he'd better speak up when it counted.

Oh, so you only want advice three seconds before you lose control? Duly noted.

Ugh, he could hear the oil slick smile in that tone, feel it inside his head. Morinobu could feel how much the eye of night wanted to slip this grin onto his face. If he were on a different island, it might have happened. But the Morinobu on Isle Werwick had registered barely any discomfort, only a slight widening of his eyes to show for it. So far from the shrines of the Toukaido, the entity could only knock on the door, so to speak, like the rest of the spirits. Speaking of, Mo liked the sun priestess from earlier better. Could he have her back?

The eye of night gave a dry Ha. Ha. and settled back into the void. The beads lost their frosty feeling just after. Morinobu relaxed for a breath.

"Why, yes I am based at Melkarid currently, though I doubt I'll be put up there for the entire semester. Facilities mix-up, of a fashion."

He made a vague hand waving motion. As though his lack of acceptance to Drachuer had not ruined his plans and made him feel boneless and homeless. Haru and Misa had saved him from the latter event, and, just in time.

What if, somehow, the restless rapids of his thoughts coalesced, I am the reason Haru hasn't come home yet?

He knit his brows and his fraying resolve together, reassuring himself.

I will find Haru, whether or not he's in trouble. And I'll stay sane through the school year. I have more at my disposal than last year. I'll be fine.

But of course, Noelle was going for a Bard's title. The tower observatory would be her second home, too. She had as much right to be here as he did. Why did he even gather any sort of grudge against her presence in the first place?

"Then, we might meet each other here from time to time. If memory serves me, a couple of my classes are here as well."

What was Noelle doing, rifling through her bag? Did she want to show him something?

He graciously accepted the proffered slip of paper with both hands - a reflex from being shown off in Tokyo to his mentor's colleagues.

Many coeds might internally celebrate over getting the phone number of a girl as aesthetically Yes as Noelle. Morinobu, however, blinked at the note, not sure if he should feel bewildered or relieved at her enthusiasm. He took in the flowery scrawl, committed its contents to a pocket of his memory, and then folded the note into a neat square to fit the pocket of his flannel.

"Of course," he murmured, summoning a black-clad smartphone, swiping and tapping the contents of the note into the device, "I'll text you if we're too buried in schoolwork to have a face-to-face chat."

Morinobu flashed Noelle a brief, wry grin.

"I'll send you a text later today, hopefully sooner if I find out something interesting. Thanks again, Noelle."

She waved her goodbyes and turned on her heel, skirt of her jumper twirling. The aspiring Bard probably saw another student milling the halls. He chuckled a little at the thought of the force-of-nature that was Noelle all but flouncing towards another hapless freshman.

Morinobu Ren's footsteps echoed on the flagstones until he reached the campus green. From there, he meandered through grass and gravel, dirt and brick in search of proof.

Veteran students occasionally called out for him to join this club or register for that event.

"Some other time, thanks," he replied, emphasis varying with how interested he might be.

He did, however, accept any proffered sample he could nibble on during his stroll. And if there were any crumbs from his libations, birds and beasts trailed him in a loose gaggle for it. They fought each other in a vain attempt to fatten themselves on all the scavenged goods.

Morinobu Ren hadn't noticed the train of chaos yet. He plumbed the depths of his thoughts for clues to the disappearances and came up with nothing but the gut-jostling sense of dread that followed his discovery that not all of Liberoc was where it was supposed to be.

"I suppose we go home, then. Misa ought to learn about Haru and the others from me," he sighed to himself.

While Morinobu did reach a residential district, it did not house Melkarid. Morinobu looked up at the series of pointy roofs unique to Draucher. He facepalmed and shredded breath through his flared nostrils? Why did his feet take him to the one dorm who didn't accept him?

 

[theunderwolf]

This was... New. Gwen had not heard of a skateboarding club on campus but she acceded that she didn't really hear much of anything ever. However she knew a trap when she saw one. As tempting as the juice packets were, they were just an initial plot to get her through the door. They even had a cute girl, which seemed like cheating to Gwen but she wouldn't judge. being very careful to avoid looking like she was going to committed to anything she stooped down and grabbed a pin and juice packet. That sounds fun," She said neutrally, "Though group activities aren't really for me usually but I will think about it!" Yes she would, she thought about everything and anything. She gave a nervous smile and extracted herself from the conversation. Despite herself she now wanted to think about it. Maybe she did need a new hobby. Maybe it was the note, she hardly ever read it any more, it had become part of the landscape. But she read it anyway, and now what? She wanted to talk to people? No, absolutely not. That seemed like a massive waste of time in every regard. Besides what was she going to do when her eyes popped out while on a skateboard? Was that a trick? Losing an eye while doing some maneuver probably had a term invented by some Californian in the nineties. She would never know and was remarkably fine with that.


Fife
"Now listen. You don't want to do this. I know that. I do want to do this. You know this. Unluckily for you, I have experience making animate inanimate objects cooperate." Fife said, narrowing his eyes as he slowly and threatening twisted the hose nozzle to jet. The Draucher dragon eyed him, cautious. It knew this was coming. But dread it. Run from it. Wash day arrived.
"What if I smashed him!" Stompy, the diminutive rhino, said from the waterproof bag Fife had shoved all three of his nuisances, "I could smash him with my feet! Or my face! Or my horn!"
"We're here to clean the statue." Fife informed him.
"You can clean the pieces!"
"Move you ingrate!" An authoritative, angry voice sounded within the pack and fife felt three small forms jostle as they all tried to exit the small hole at the top of the backpack.
"You there!" King imperiously decreed as she tried to shove his cotton filled head through the opening with extremely limited success, "Dragon! I demand you submit to a washing!"
The dragon did not move to comply.
Fife sighed. Hard way then. typically he had to contract demons with no control of water so magic was useless. Luckily the dragon calmed down when reminded that the hose wouldn't hurt. So Fife took aim, sprayed, and hit a handsome looking Asian boy straight in the face.

 

[Nimbus]

Cold water arced across the face of one particularly distracted Occult student. He wasn't so lucky to be shielding his eyes at the time, and couldn't see its origin. Never mind that he was too busy losing his glasses, his dignity and more of his frazzled mind. Startled, at first Morinobu made the sort of shrill, wordless cry you might expect from a cat introduced to the Ice Bucket Challenge. He backhanded it away, a useless reflex. Some of the spray found its way up his nose. A great deal of gagging and snorting ensued as he retreated from the direction of the ambush. Hardly the young man's finest moment.

Once he'd rubbed all the invading rinse from his eyes, he coughed and delicately spat a teaspoon or so of water onto the nearby lawn. Then, he shook as much of the water as he could from his hair, which, due to the porosity of his product, was a pitiful amount anyway.

In a pretense of gazing at the dorm's facade, he searched the surrounds for the culprit of the latest injustice to him and his perfectly styled hair. He spotted a perfect suspect-the only one close enough, really. A curtain of ale-brown hair may have partly obscured those guilty eyes, but the most damning evidence was the hose he clutched in both hands. Water still dripped from its head. He could almost hear a droplet plip onto the other young man's white shirt cuff.

Gods, was his shirt starched? Morinobu wasn't used to someone dressing undeniably more formally than he - at least not in western clothes. He supposed Draucher spared no expense for style, even with its staff.

The twiggy youth couldn't possibly be experienced enough for the role of head groundskeeper. Maybe this was an assistant? He could be new, or dealing with a jinxed hose. Considering how fruitful his last interaction with a new person was, Morinobu considered giving the lad some slack. But that notion blew away with the autumn wind when he heard the steady, crunchy groan of stone rubbing against stone.

Draucher's dragon statue, balanced on its hind legs, moved its forelegs up to keel-height and steepled its hands. A softer grinding noise. Did its jaw just shift? Was it...was it grinning at his misfortune?

He didn't have the full measure of the dragon statue. But there was a chance the incident occurred by its will. Or worse, the groundskeeper conspired with the statue. Of course. That had to be it. Pick on the one mage student with decades, no, centuries, of legacy who didn't get Draucher's pin this year.

Morinobu had read the rules for Dueling on campus. How many times, he lost count. But all that went out of his head as the low-key frustration fermented into ire.

I'm going to introduce this punk to the sturdy and well-shaped stones I'm currently standing on. And then I'm going to turn the dragon to salt.

A spike of pain shot through his skull, crawling down through to his ribs. After a sharp inhale, Morinobu wrapped his less dry arm around his waist as he shifted his weight. He breathed, taut muscles constricting, wards prickling him in warning.

He was going to lose it. And if he lost it...if he lost it even for a moment, with any number of witnesses...the only one who'd be remotely happy about it was most likely taking a nap on the other side of the world. Well, him and The Boss. And he did not feel like proving either of them right about the inevitability of his future.

So instead of giving in, Morinobu Ren rode out his various emotions like a good little human. But of course that didn't mean he didn't express them. He let his satchel slide off his shoulder, levitating it just before it touched the pavers. Preventing its contents from being damaged now would save him the hassle of time-consuming reconstruction spells.

He asked the dandily dressed groundskeeper, "What do you think you're doing?"

Except it didn't come out as a question. Every word was a staccato jab. An almost snarl.

He deliberately and violently flung his jacket to the grass. Sure, it was designer, but wasn't everything he wore? And anyway, standing there in a partially soaked jacket meant letting this enemy win. That was unacceptable.

With slightly less force this time, he rolled up the sleeves of his sweater and asked, near-black eyes paying more attention to the angry scars on his forearms than anything else, "Do you know who I am?"

Closing the gap between him and his opponent, he spread his supine arms to show off the heirloom ojime. Even if this fool didn't have a clue as to their origin, many of them were carved from bone in a variety of scary shapes: skulls, demon faces, and at least one very detailed bat with lacquered eyes.

Morinobu swept his soppy, uneven bangs off his forehead. Ugh, great. Now some onlooker was guffawing away at him. Go ahead, randos. Laugh. For now.

"And, more importantly, have you any idea how long I spent getting my hair just so this morning? And now you've gone and ruined it."

How was he supposed to get people to trust him and supply him information on the dorm heads if he looked like he'd already drunkenly canonballed into Melkarid's secret basement lagoon?

Oh wait. Maybe the statue's lackey would know something. Even something as seemingly unimportant as not having seen Vassilissa in the last 72 hours would help.

"I might let you off the hook for this, if you can answer a few questions about Vassilissa Bershanskaya. You know her, don't you?"

Several other someones were chatting amongst themselves. The voices weren't distinct enough for him to hear their entire conversation. But he did catch a few words: noble, fickle, delicious, and multiple instances of demon. Possibly the phrase "baby demon," which was confusing, but not surprising if it referred in any way to him.

He did not understand how anyone could be talking about demons. Not when he had absolutely every single one of his wards, illusions and charms holding back that othered likeness completely under control. He had a few close calls today, but he wasn't even sure any part of him had physically changed.

If not me, then who?

He first wrinkled his nose as the plastic-y floral scent hovering around the groundskeeper like a mock aura turned rank. As he got closer, he could identify the foulness: rotten eggs roasted over an open pit flame until they turned to ash. Classic L'eau du Hell.

What," Morinobu Ren inquired in disappointed and officious tones, pointing a finger at the suspiciously lumpy bag set to one side, "are those?"

No sooner had he uttered those then a wave of dizziness struck him. Only the bright, frigid glow of his beads kept him from swooning. He had to take a knee anyways, when too much pressure built up in his sinuses. His hands came away red. Nosebleed.

Oh that's rich. Other demons on campus. Should we call security to escort the lot of them off the island? We could go too, pet.

"Bleeding here, Boss. Priorities, much?" He muttered into his hands, though changing the mind of the Eye of Night without convincing him it was his own idea was an exercise in futility.

If you had extended your obligation, like I suggested, you wouldn't be allergic, as it were, to your distant infernal cousins. But no, you're too concerned about keeping your humanity. Lot of good that has done you, eh?

Morinobu was too busy trying not to bleed onto the grass to comment, lest he inadvertently become the catalyst for some antiquated magic circle beneath the turf.

"What," he repeated, nasally, "or who?"

 

[theunderwolf]

"Haha what the actual bleeding fuck "Fife said softly as the other boy doubled over. Typically, like recognizing like, it was some sort of rich brat here to what? Complain? "Are you alright there sir? I didn't think the hose was that pressurized. As I was trying" Fife shot a glare at the dragon, "To be accomadating. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Would you like a towel? First aid?" Fife looked at the boy, honestly he was an actual disaster. Attractive yes but designer clothing was always too cookie cutter. Alas he was not to dictate styles. Besides if he got a nosebleed from being sprayed a little with a hose there wouldn't enough tide pens in the world to keep those three digit tag shirts clean. "Heated? Mr. ?"
His bag jumped and jostled again as three stuffed animals wrestled until quite unexpectedly Tux managed to break out, hopping onto Fife's head and regarding the rich kid.
"Did I hear there was a bad hairday... ooh what is this..." The eagle cocked his head, "Oh amusing. this one already has some stuffing and looks like one of ours is cooking him. Oh well looks far too stringy for my taste anyway." The eagle groused and adjusted Fife's hair. Fife for his part had automatically picked up the tossed coat and perfectly folded it. Ready to hang as soon as the boy got his shit together and came inside.

 

[Nimbus]

Morinobu Ren hated being in anyone's debt. But he didn't want to drip all over Draucher turf, and he was in danger of doing just that if he pulled his hands away to sort any of this out. At least the hose-bearing groundskeeper didn't intend to spray him off the lawn. Not that Mo could do much about it if he did.

Wrong place, wrong time, he had said. That pretty much summed up this year for Mo, now didn't it?

Draucher's dragon looked entirely too pleased with the student's misfortune, taunting Morinobu with a beckoning gesture. Maybe he didn't want to stay at Draucher, if it's own statue was going to be an asshole to him at every opportunity. There was only so much chicanery he could endure before he snapped.

Pitched lower to avoid the embarrassment of those nasally registers, his answer to the young man was ensconced in sacrasm.

"I am having a wonderful day, and it keeps getting better."

He stood with a cat's care and grace, pinching the bridge of his nose a bit tighter. The shift in pressure made him a little dizzy, but he could grit through that well enough.

His mien of general disappointment and suspicion softened as the groundskeeper offered assistance. He resisted the urge to nod his assent, just one more thing he couldn't do in his present condition.

"Ren. Ren Morinobu. We'll have an awful mess if I don't get something to staunch the bleeding. If you could - a towel, dry, and a washcloth, tepid and damp, preferably ones you don't particularly care to keep - I'd appreciate it. Can't rely on casting. Not like this," he confessed, meandering off the grass in the measured way someone might if the land were steeply graded or scattered with loose rocks.

Being hosed in the face was, mostly an inconvenience that also happened to be wholly unwarranted. Morinobu felt less offended now that he learned he hadn't been meant to have been sprayed. He told the young man as much. After all, he took care of the jacket, which he didn't have to so much as touch.

"If I wasn't bleeding, sorting the rest would be nothing. Which, has nothing to do with a little water, mind. This," he dipped his head back further with a quick jerk to indicate the state of his face, "is what happens when you mix, ah, denizens of different planes."

I'm pretty sure that's just you, a whispery voice quipped from the beads, prickling like the kiss of an ice cube.

What appeared to be a plush toy in the shape of an eagle wriggled its way out of the lumpy bag. Though on the surface it looked very much like a well-worn "friend" to some needy child, its gaze on Morinobu had been sharp, assessing, hungry - demons always were hungry for something - and, ultimately, disappointed.

The stuffed animal was definitely the source of the sulfuric odor. Maybe it "ate" brimstone in order to remain animate?

Tilting its head in an uncanny fashion, It neglected to introduce itself and instead spoke about him - rude - and moved about strands of the groundskeeper's longish bob.

Not just animated, but sentient. Was the stinky, imitation bird possessed by a demon's soul, or was this some manner of Infernal Artifice? Did it altogether matter? Demons are demons, no matter what shape they take on this plane.

"Ugh, I can't believe I'd run into demons here, of all places," he grumbled, "not that many Infernals have made any sense to begin with."

He kept to the paver-encrusted path, in order to avoid too close an encounter with Hell Salon and an even worse allergic reaction, as you do.

"Is that one making a nest of your hair...yours, or is it - or, he?- an escapee from some Aleister Crowley wannabe's closet that you found outside the dorms?"

 

[theunearthlyfool]

Noelle wasn't always the best at reading people, but her new acquaintance seemed distracted during their conversation. Like he knew more than he was saying. But of course his mind would be elsewhere; she wasn't without empathy. She couldn't imagine how she'd function if her best friend went missing. It was admirable that he was out searching for answers instead of just sitting around fretting. Searching for answers… she mused. Hm…

Morinobu accepted her number and told her he'd message if he heard anything, and they said their goodbyes. Noelle walked purposefully back to where she'd left her brother, a plan brewing in her head.

"I guess I'm glad you made a friend already, but do you really think you can find four missing people before someone who actually knew them does?" Michael was dubious, as always. "Or campus security, or whoever it is that goes looking for vanishing students."

"I didn't say I wanted to find them today- although that would be pretty cool," Noelle admitted, leaning on the top of the piano she'd found Michael sitting at. "I just to find a clue or something that would help Morinobu not worry so much. He seemed… sad."

Michael leaned away from the keys and stretched, though they quietly continued to play the piece he'd begun on their own. He knew better than to roll his eyes at his sister, but she could tell he was tempted. "And we can't have someone be sad, now, can we?"

"Not when Noelle Wright's on the case!" She winked and flashed a peace sign, anime-style, then returned to crossed arms on top of the piano. "I just wanted to tell you where I was going, though; you don't have to come with. You've already been all over campus with me this weekend."

Raising an eyebrow, Michael frowned at her. "I mean, I'm tired, but I'm not gonna make you go by yourself."

"Are you sure? I don't want you to feel obligated-"

"I thought you were upset we weren't going to have adventures as much anymore."

Noelle considered this briefly. "Well, you got me there!" she said brightly. "Time to speedrun the club rush!!"

She fairly skipped out of the room, her brother shuffling along behind. "Oh boy," he muttered, though his tone was one of good humor.

After they left, the piano's music echoing out of the now-empty room slowly grew softer until finally it stopped.