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A news article about the portals gets into the Wall Street Journal. Isabella gives a small press release to the others. She raises the price. She buys a parking garage each in Chicago, Houston, and Philadelphia, and over the next week Adarin puts portals in them. She raises the price again, because there's only so much room in the hub. She is attacked by various blogs accusing her of elitism and an entitlement complex.

She takes her accumulated ticket money and her loan money and hires contractors to build a proper portal port (it amuses her to say this phrase) on her land into which the portal walls may be moved. (She made them out of relatively portable - ha - material; they should be movable into their new homes when ready without cracking, and if one breaks, Adarin can replace it.) The estimated date of the portal port's completion is in very late October, and that's because it's a rush job she's paying exorbitantly for. She expects to want to replace it with a more congenially located and prettily architected building in two or three years, not to mention better solutions than repurposed parking garages on the far ends, but an adequate port now will be better than an ideal one in a year. It has asphalt for cars to drive on and plenty of dangling signs and paint on the ground to direct them on the first floor, and ramps up for pedestrians to go from portal to portal (around a circular promenade with spaces for restaurants and suchlike to nest in, if they care to fork over the outrageous rent.) There are slots for two hundred and fifty portals in this structure and room to build another ring around it for an equal number more if she doesn't have the big pretty permanent version up soon.

She buys a garage in Phoenix, hires people to paint over its misleading signage, and Adarin puts a portal in it. She raises her prices but also starts selling week passes for just three times the price of a round trip ticket. She tells the manager-level staffperson to hire more underlings and promote one or two. She could repay her loan, now; she doesn't, in case she needs the slush fund for something.

Between portal-makings, Adarin makes mirrors; Isabella's parents get half-pairs, and there are extras around for people's daemons. Ranata is not clear on what the advantage over telephones is supposed to be. Adarin receives a telephone. Isabella's house becomes home to a nice computer.

She hires security guards and a human resources person and a payroll clerk. She buys a garage in San Antonio and Adarin puts a portal in it.

She turns twenty.
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Having lots of projects to tinker with turns out to be the kind of thing Adarin really likes doing. He jumps between then easily, when he gets frustrated with one he'll switch to another and come back with fresh eyes later.

He works on learning programming so he can make a spell for it - he makes some progress, but nothing dramatic. He does the first, "Hello, world" and reads lots of online tutorials, commandeering Isabella's new computer quite a lot. When he manages to write a rudimentary program for simple multiplication he's absurdly proud of himself, but he's hardly going to stop there. He decides he needs to understand at least one programming language in-depth - and the basics of several others.

After lots of badgering from his sister, he agrees to try and invent a cloudpine that will simulate flight. His pocket library becomes his very best friend for the calculations necessary. He manages to nail down a general idea of how it will work, but a prop for his sister's witch disguise isn't his top priority.

Absently he maps out plans for colonization - how agriculture and transportation will work, what sort of infrastructure will go up first, and so on. He decides that the best option will be to have electricity and running water up before anyone moves in. This is partly for practicality reasons of it being easier to do that way, and partly so that citizens of New Kystle will see a reason to move. He doesn't touch what the robots will be used for in any of this, though he keeps a list of possible tasks they can accomplish. While they don't seem sentient, he isn't entirely comfortable with giving them manual labor until he knows more about how they work.

In-between portals and his various other projects, he has another two things on his to-do list that Isabella's unaware of. There's a bit of a time crunch, so it takes priority over more long-term projects. He buys several blank journals, and spells them to only open for Isabella. He can only test himself not being able to open it, but it's based on the locked door spell he used at his home, so he's certain it'll work just fine. On a whim, he decorates them with magic - each one looks different, whether by color or design on the front. Once that's done, he retrieves a small and sturdy slab of stone (by buying it), changes its weight with magic, and puts a portal from it to the inside of a bag. The portal slab is meant to be movable to new locations, and the bag gets some spells to strengthen it and help keep it from tearing and breaking the portal inside. He tests it when Isabella's away and finds that it works perfectly.

He's not really a party person (it's little wonder why) and so he's going to leave any sort of party to others. After some trial and error, he figures out the oven. With this knowledge, he bakes her a cake, curses a lot at the cake getting the frosting to stay where he puts it, but manages all right. Well, he manages all right after he gives up trying to get it right by hand and just uses magic. It's frivolous, but he would like to get this right.

On Isabella's birthday, he retrieves the cake, the presents (wrapped up in wrapping paper after Googling Earth birthday traditions) and then, Isabella herself.
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"Did you bake?" exclaims Isabella.

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"I did! Though I mostly just followed directions from the internet, nothing particularly fancy. The frosting design was hard-won through toil and copious amounts of magic," he explains.

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"Ombre rosettes. Very fancy. Should we eat cake first or should I open my presents? I'm afraid I didn't know there was going to be a whole thing and I've already opened the other things I've gotten."

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"Whichever you'd like to do first. I wasn't making this into a whole thing, at least, I think I wasn't? I thought cake and wrapped presents were the custom? Did Google lie to me?"

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"Cake and presents are totally customary for birthday celebrations! People just usually celebrate their birthdays most energetically when they're... children. It drops off in formality and organization in the late teens a bit. But I am completely thrilled anyway."

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"Aha. Then I can forgive Google. Thrilling you was the point! I did my duty as a boyfriend, hurray!"

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"Yes. Best most dutiful boyfriend." She kisses his cheek and cuts a slice of cake for each of them and peers at the inside to see what kind it is.

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"Thank you, I try."

The cake turns out to be chocolate.

"I decided to keep to the official food," explains Adarin dryly. "Also I didn't know what half of the other options were. So I went with what I knew."
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"Like what, red velvet and pineapple upside-down?" She hands him a plate and grabs a fork.

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"Yes. Those were strange and confusing. I'm a novice baker, I got help at the grocery store when they realized I was nearly incompetent with any of this. Apparently I am 'cute' when I am confused and trying to find the right ingredients for baking. Why are there so many types of sugar?"

Plate's retrieved, along with a fork. He is a little nervous to try it, what if he screwed it up?

"... Want me to try it first in case I messed up so I can warn you?"
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"Because there are many desserts and many plants that obligingly produce sugar. Have you gotten around to trying maple yet?" And she pops a bite of cake fearlessly into her mouth. "It tastes fine. You did fine."

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"I haven't, but I will eventually, I think."

At her judgement, Adarin cackles. "Yes. I'l going to have to go thank the nice people at the grocery store, I was so lost..."
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"You poor thing, what did you have to ask the grocery people?"

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"The sugar, it just said 'sugar' and there were lots of types of sugar, so... I was confused. They actually corrected some other problems I had too. They were very helpful!"

Nom, cake. It is indeed fine. It tastes like victory.
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Om nom nom. Birthday cake made with love. Halfway through her cake she reaches for her nearest package to unwrap it.

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Birthday cake made with love and magic. And help from nice people at the grocery store.

The nearest package is heavy! There are only two wrapped presents, but when opened this one's got several books neatly stacked inside.

Each one's decorated in a slightly different way - one is black with the silvery design of what looks to be a cloudpine, another is a smokey purple with an owl on it. After that is an ice-blue colored book with the design of a crown, then a dark red book with a golden alethiometer and several of the prettier symbols arrayed around it in a circle. The second to last book is grey, with a stylized robot on it, and the last is a dark green with a chamomile on it.
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"Oh wow. Wow."

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Adarin grins. He explains, "I spelled them so they'll only open for you, as well. Actually the designs were an afterthought, but I had fun with it once I started."

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"But they're too pretty to fill with - idle thoughts, now, I'll have to use them for condensed notes only."

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He snorts with laughter. "If I ever get you more I can not make them pretty? If you'd prefer?"

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"Well, that all depends on what you want me to do with them."

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"You can do whatever you like with them, dear. They're yours. If the pretty ones aren't casual enough for your needs them I won't get them. If you like them, I will."

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"Well, I guess how casual they are depends somewhat on how many of them I can expect to have."

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He snickers. "They're actually not particularly difficult to make, so if you'd like I can give you magic books entirely if you don't go through an absolutely absurd number of books a day. Which I don't think you do?"

Total: 116
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