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golden in your memory
Sparkles mates on Milan
Permalink Mark Unread

Sadde's been meaning to go to one of those imperial capitals for a while now. He's tested himself around humans again, he's been only conjuring animal blood into his throat even though he could do the much tastier human blood and stay golden-eyed—there are in fact effects on his cognition, he notices them—and honestly even for a vampire this long moping is a bit much.

The fact that he thinks it's a bit much is probably as good an indicative as any that he's over it. It hurts that he's over it, but it hurts less than not being over it. He runs through the woods, so there's less risk he'll be spotted, and makes his way to one of the European capitals.

He stops when he spots a key.

He comes to a halt and peers at it. It's on the ground, half-hidden by grass, and there's a tree right over there that would have obscured his view had he been running a foot to the right. But as it is, he found the key. It is a very small key, as if sized for a child to hold, and it has a certain shine to it that's not quite like any other keys he's seen during his vampire life.

He explores a radius of about a mile around the key. There seem to be no houses or cabins or mansions or anything like that where such a key might have come from. He returns to it and peers at it, then shrugs and picks it up.

He doesn't pocket it, though, because the moment he touches the key he's quite certain it's a magical key.

It doesn't actually do anything, it doesn't explode or shoot fireworks or glow, there's no mysterious voice saying that he has found the Artifact of Doom or anything like that. He just—knows.

When he straightens up, he notices how he knows it. There seems to be a certain sense produced by the key, a feeling of sorts, that shifts and moves about as the key is moved through the air. He waves it around a bit, and reaches two conclusions: one, most spots in the air don't feel like anything; two, what a spot in the air feels like depends on the spot itself, and if he waves the key around a given spot multiple times he feels the same thing each time. Interesting.

Now what does the key actually do?

...well, it's a key, presumably it opens doors. It's a magic key—does it open all doors?

After thirty minutes—during which he runs to the closest town, finds the least observed door, and tries to open it with the key, followed by several further attempts on several different doors—he has determined that the key does not in fact seem to have the property of opening all doors.

He has also determined that locks consistently don't feel like anything to the key. Which seems to suggest that, if he wants to use it, it's not going to be on an actual door. So he decides to try the obvious thing. Except not here, this is not a good place, so he finds an isolated spot in the woods to try the obvious thing. Upon finding an appropriate isolated spot, he waves the key around until it feels like something, then he pushes it and turns it, as if he were unlocking an actual door.

That one works.

He pulls it, and the door opens before him. On the other side it's early evening, on what appears to be a sort of college campus. He removes the key from the door—it remains open, good—and walks through it.

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There is a familiar-looking sun hanging low in the familiar-looking sky, just beginning to dip behind the tops of a cluster of four- and five-story buildings whose architecture and decor is clearly in the genre of 'generic American college town'; but all of these things are just a little bit off. The sun is just slightly too yellow, the sky just slightly too blue, the scattered wispy clouds a shade too white. The subtle hum of electrical power is totally absent, but all the buildings have indoor lighting and there's a group of students in the lounge on the third floor of that residence hall watching TV with a bowl of popcorn.

Of the students he can see walking around outside, two seem unremarkably human; one has turquoise hair, amber eyes, and pale bluish-green skin with a subtle shimmer to it that hints at scales; one has long pointed ears and moves so quietly he can barely hear her even though she's less than a hundred feet away; one is very very short and so unobtrusive he needs a second glance to notice her; and all five are openly carrying some kind of preindustrial weapon, a club or an axe or a knife or a bow. One of the humans, a tall girl in jeans and a crop top with a sheathed dagger hanging from her rhinestone-studded belt, has a compact mirror in her hand and appears to be playing the local version of Angry Birds on it.

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Cooool did he just get dropped into Magic Earth, Now With Added Species? Is anyone speaking English or any other Earth language by any chance?

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The language he can hear being spoken sounds very similar to English in structure and phonology, but different enough that he doesn't recognize any words immediately.

Somebody comes around a corner and crosses into Sadde's field of view, headed across the open square in front of him toward the residence hall with the TV. Human, 4'9", late teens, with two daggers on his belt and an unusual number of scars. The most prominent is a faint slash down the side of his face, but there are plenty more - faint burns on the backs of his hands, a scrape along the side of his wrist that peeks past the end of his sleeve when he moves his arm.

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!

!!!!!!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(A small part of his mind is suddenly enraged that anyone had the audacity of harming the most perfect and gorgeous person in all universes, but the rest of it is !!!!!!!! and yep this is a very entranced and slackjawed vampire completely missing the fact that the door he's walked through just closed behind him, leaving no evidence of its existence.)

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He glances at Sadde and blinks. A look of mild concern crosses his face.

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No no no why is he concerned why is the objectively best person feeling anything other than utmost joy he should ask but no that person is concerned about him oh no what if he's scary what if he looks threatening? Sadde needs to reassure him—he doesn't know his name and that's suddenly as unbearable as the pain of turning, that's a way the world shouldn't be, it's wrong and needs to be corrected.

"What's—your name?" he asks, tentatively, in English—then remembers people are not speaking English here but completely blanks out on what he could possibly do about this.

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"Are, uh, are you all right?" he asks in the off-English local language. His meaning is pretty clear from context and cadence alone.

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He nods extremely quickly—superhumanly quickly, even—then asks, "Are you alright?" in the same language, correctly guessing which part he needs to stress to convey what he means. He's also fretfully trying to glance at all his scars and failing and just looking at one after the other and making abortive gestures as if he wants to move from where he is but doesn't quite... know... how.

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"I'm fine," he says, "I'm not convinced you are - do you have an exemption from the weapons policy," with a slight gesture at his daggers and at Sadde's lack of any corresponding item, "or - do you even go here?"

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He blinks and says "I don't actually speak this language" in English—and he still doesn't know the boy's name—he points at himself and says, "Sadde." Points at the boy...?

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"Milan. You don't speak Pax? Could've fooled me."

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"Milan," he repeats as if savouring the word. Everything is—not right, something still happened to Milan—but still a bit better with the world.

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"...and once more I am concerned."

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"And once more I am concerned," he repeats flawlessly. "I'm sorry," he adds, in English again.

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"I have been accosted by a lovestruck parrot. —sorry, that's not fair. Um. What in the world do I do with you," he wonders.

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He smiles pleasantly and enamouredly.

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Yeah, he sure does do that.

Milan regards him with a mix of puzzlement and concern.

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"...are you alright?" he repeats the question from earlier, his smile turning into a worried frown.

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"Yes, I'm fine. I'm just—" He shakes his head and sighs.

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"You are just...?" he encourages.

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"Perplexed?" he suggests. "Confused? At a loss? I would also like to note that you speak Pax remarkably well for someone who allegedly doesn't."

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"Perplexed, confused, at a loss," he repeats. "I doesn't speak Pax?"

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"You sure act like you don't speak Pax, except for the part where you keep, uh, speaking Pax. Are you just that fast at learning languages?"

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Okay that is way too many words. "I sure act like I don't speak Pax," he transposes. "I doesn't? I don't? I speak Pax? I speaking Pax? I keep speaking Pax?"

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"...are you hunting for grammar lessons, here - 'I don't', 'I speak', 'I keep speaking' - what is going on...?"

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"I don't speak 'hunting', 'grammar', 'lessons.' Do, don't, does, doesn't? Do, doing? Go, going?"

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"Yes, all those. Grammar lessons: the thing we are doing right now where I teach you Pax at an insane speed for some unfathomable reason."

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...he would not normally expect to be able to conjure vocabulary knowledge out of thin air, but... these words are really similar to each other in the same way English words are similar to each other and if he extrapolates... "Lesson, teach? Teach lesson? Right now, now? Unfathomable reason, confusing reason, perplexing reason?"

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"You appear to be getting the picture!" says Milan. "I would love to know how you're managing it!"

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"I speak English," he says, in Pax. "It is..." He rubs his index fingers together. "Similar? Confusing...ly? Similar."

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"Okay. That's weird. Everything about this situation is weird," says Milan.

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He nods. "Weird. Speak more things...?"

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"- that would be more natural as 'say' - sure why not - and of course I immediately blank out on all the fine literature I know - where did you come from, it's almost inconceivable that someone could end up in the middle of Magisterius University speaking no Pax and mysteriously fascinated by me -"

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"Oh I come from—" he says, turning around and interrupting himself. "Er." ...he tries to use the key where the old door's keyhole would be. He unlocks thin air. It becomes a magical door, which opens to vacuum in the middle of space. "Um."

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"...I have to admit I was not expecting 'interplanar traveller'."

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"That's not my plane."

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"Stranded interplanar traveller. Maybe I should be taking you to the Interplanar Studies building."

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He whirls around, again superhumanly fast. "Will you stay? Er. I—"

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"...what?"

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"...with me. Just. I want to speak—before you go—"

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"I have no intention of taking you to the Interplanar Studies building and abandoning you there, curiosity is my second biggest flaw, but they do seem like the people who would be most readily able to solve your problem. Does this have something to do with all the staring."

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Nodnodnod.

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"And you don't yet have the vocabulary to explain...?"

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"No. I will soon, though—keep talking? ...also you called me a lovestruck parrot?"

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"A parrot is a bird that can repeat things said to it. I was frustrated and got snippy, I apologize."

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"You have parrots, too. Strange. And you don't need to apologise, it was funny. And true."

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"Well, fair enough. Um."

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"I will explain. Tell me about this place?"

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"At what scope of 'place' - this plane, this country, this town, this university...?"

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"This plane."

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"Uh, it's - a plane, people live here, we have - wizards and fae and dragons and gods and ogres and demons, though the demons aren't native, and merfolk and kobolds and dwarves and elves, and trees and parrots and cats and dogs and TV and the aethernet and cookies and pudding and toast..."

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"Aethernet is magic? Gods are... real?"

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"...yyyyes?"

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"Gods are made up where I'm from. Did they create the plane?"

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"...no, hang on, still stuck on 'gods are made up where you're from' - are you sure - I suppose you must be sure, you wouldn't go around saying things like that if you weren't - do you need a safety talk on how to interact with a plane inhabited by gods, I think you might -"

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"...safety talk?"

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"The short version is: do not fuck with the gods, they are more powerful than you and it will not end well."

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"...should I want to fuck with the gods?"

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"No. You should not. The gods provide many benefits to the world, and also, fucking with them is a universally terrible idea."

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"...uh huh. Okay I think I may have words now."

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"I'd say 'that was fast' but apparently that's just how it goes."

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"I have an eidetic memory and superhuman senses and my native language sounds more or less like yours with sounds switched around," is what he starts with.

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"Yeah that's weird."

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"I was bad at languages when I was a human and I'm comparatively bad at languages now but I'm still much much better than a human and your language was easy mode. And one of the features of the species I currently am—I hesitate to find its name in Pax because you might draw wrong conclusions from it—is that when we lay eyes on a person we're mutually romantically compatible with we know it immediately by way of falling in unbreakable eternal magic love with them.—I did take a bit to notice what was going on at first. And for that matter—why do you have these scars, I'm having a hard time not whining about them and wanting to find the one responsible and giving them a piece of my mind—"

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"...okay," he says, "as oddly charming as that urge is, you definitely need to not do that and I'm not going to explain until I'm satisfied that you won't."

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"—I won't, I'd never—I'm not going to say I'd never do anything you didn't approve of, there are circumstances—but a general rule of thumb is that I'll never do anything you don't want me to do."

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"Are you aware of how astonishingly unsettling that is."

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"Yes but overall I think it was a really good trade—uh, my species is completely unaging, mostly immortal unless you tear us to pieces and set them on fire which is super hard because superstrength and superspeed and supersenses and super resilience and I'm more immortal than baseline because I have generalised biokinesis, I can even regrow limbs and become much less flammable—there's the senses, the memory, the enhanced cognition, the not needing to sleep or breathe ever—and the drawbacks are that we sparkle in the sun except I don't because biokinesis, we subsist on blood and it's hard to resist it though I cheat on that too because I can just conjure blood directly into my throat, and the mate bond thing which is not that much of a drawback, if we're romantically compatible I'm very sure you wouldn't advise me against anything like that lightly."

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"...this is all starting to sound kind of way over my head," he says.

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"I'm sorry, should I—go more slowly—?"

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"No, I don't mean to say that I don't understand you, I understand you perfectly well, but if you're telling the truth - and you do seem to be telling the truth - this is the sort of thing that happens to a certain sort of person and I am not that person, I'm a history major, I don't fuck around with powerful extradimensional beings."

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"...do you fuck powerful extradimensional beings?" he asks hopefully.

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"Not habitually!"

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"Habits can be so easy to break."

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"No but seriously, this is heavy stuff. Like, 'down this road lies death by hubris' stuff."

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"...'death by hubris'?"

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"Do they not have that in your plane."

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"The only form of magic my plane has is my species, one other quasi-human species, and some personal idiosyncratic magic a very small subset of all people have. Hubris is not a cause of death where I'm from."

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"Okay, well, it is here."

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"How... exactly... does hubris kill people?"

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"If you fuck with something you shouldn't have fucked with, you die. If you go around being the sort of person who would do that, you find that this tendency gets you in trouble, and then you probably die. Things you shouldn't fuck with include gods, fae, dragons, and the universe itself."

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"The universe itself."

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"That looks like the face of someone who might want to fuck with the universe. Please do not."

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"I'm not planning to." Yet. "I'm just curious about what that even means. The universe is—a set of mathematical laws, where I'm from, it doesn't squish people—or, it does, but for things like 'setting yourself on fire' or 'jumping off a cliff' not 'ducking with it.'"

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"You're from a fucking science fantasy world."

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"Uh... huh?"

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"This universe is not a set of mathematical laws. It is emphatically not that. If you try to treat it like it is that and investigate what its laws might be, the things you think you're discovering will change out from under you at the most personally hazardous possible moment."

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"...mmhm."

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"It seems like you might not be taking me seriously about this."

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"Oh I'm taking you very seriously. It just seems... I'll go with 'unaesthetic' for a universe to be like this, but it is I suppose by default allowed to have different aesthetics than mine."

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"If you experience a temptation to fuck with the universe, don't. This is absolutely the most important piece of advice I can possibly give you."

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"I am absolutely not planning to duck with the universe."

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"Are you sure."

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"Yes!" Not until he has an actual avenue for doing that and definitely not before he makes absolutely sure Milan is totally and completely out of harm's way.

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"Because it is an exceptionally bad idea. I can hardly even - okay. Suppose that at home in your science fantasy world you were indescribably powerful, such that you could reshape worlds with a thought, such that it was inconceivable for anything to seriously oppose you. In that case, I would still advise you not to fuck with the universe. Because it has the home turf advantage, and you are from a science fantasy world and don't understand what you're up against, and by that point there's a good chance the cost of your mistakes would be paid by innocent bystanders."

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"I am very definitely not going to fuck with the universe!" ...yeah okay innocent bystanders, not good.

Still.

Ugh.

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"All right."

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He purses his lips. "Getting a lot of information out of 'romantically compatible' aren't you."

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"No comment."

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He grins. "So, uh. Hi, nice to meet you."

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"Nice to meet you too, I suppose. Do you want to go to the Interplanar Studies building—?"

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"I mean, given that apparently the door I opened was one-way and opening another in the same place leads elsewhere, the Interplanar Studies building seems as promising a place as any to find a way to open a door back home but on the other hand I've just met my mate, my top hundred priorities are you."

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"...well. That's... hm."

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"—that does include absolutely disappearing from your life forever if that's what you prefer," he hastens to add, "I'd never—"

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"I don't particularly want you to go away, it's just that continuing to be here seems likely to be hazardous to your health, and possibly also other people's if you slip up and attempt science. And if it weren't for the mate thing, the obvious solution to that would be to take you to the Interplanar Studies building and see if anybody can figure out how to send you home. But I get the impression you would not prefer to be home."

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"—you really really needn't take the mate thing into account, it's a fact about me, if what you'd otherwise do is just leave me in the Interplanar Studies building..."

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"What I'd do if you wanted to go home would be take you to the Interplanar Studies building. That is not the situation in which I find myself."

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"I... want to do whatever you want to do?"

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"That's literally how this works! I—of course I want to be with you until long after the sun burns out but it's much more important that you be happy."

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"...but my happiness does not depend on you leaving this world. What I want here is to do the right thing and it is not obvious to me what that is and meekly subsuming your desires into mine does not help."

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"...I'd prefer not to go home. Um. Without you."

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"Yeah, I suspected as much. Well. I'm really reluctant to leave this world, I have a home and a family and would miss both those things. And if I ever spend so much as an hour in a science fantasy world I had better not come back afterward."

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"I understand."

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"Yeah. So. It's - not safe for you here. But just sending you home is hardly a perfect solution."

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"I promise I won't do any science."

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"I believe you, but there are still a lot of things that someone who grew up here would know that you don't, and a lot of the most important stuff is so obvious we take it for granted."

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"...and the world might still squish me for it. Okay. Maybe I should go somewhere without—other people—"

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"It's not immediately obvious to me that that's the right answer either - like, if it's not safe for you to be around people in this universe, is it preferable to go hang out in some barren wasteland being in the same world as me rather than return home? It seems like it would, uh, lack any tangible advantage."

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"You could ever decide that wasn't the best idea if I was still in this universe."

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"In theory, if the interplanar studies people got you home the once, it wouldn't be inconceivable that I might one day follow you. Unlikely but not inconceivable."

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Nod.

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He shuffles his feet. "Would it be terrible if I said I can turn humans into the kind of thing I am...?"

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"...I don't think it straightforwardly solves any problems but it's not inherently offensive to know."

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"...also if you become the same thing I am and ever look at me you'll reciprocate so. There's that."

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"That's. Good to know."

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"Other than that... my world has a my-species queen who is slowly rolling out knowledge of magic—it was secret until very recently—and making everyone immortal... I'm severely understating how horrible the turning process and the thirst for blood are... and I think now you have all the information I can give you relevant to all of this."

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"I do not particularly yearn to experience a horrible thirst for blood. And, no offense, the mate thing sounds kind of horrifying."

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"—I mean, if it weren't for the 'mutually' part it would be worse, yeah, but I—it's not like I've changed, I'm still pretty much myself, I care about the same things, more or less, just added a term involving, um, you. It's not too different from what it would be if we'd dated for a long time and I fell in love with you and all that except it's stronger and magic—and there's some evidence that there's an added sense of—possessiveness?—and an expectation of reciprocation built into it, but those if they exist independently at all I'm trying to just plain ignore. The part where I—seem to care more about what you want than what I want is more because I'm trying to compensate and not be too pushy and not be a burden but maybe the best way to do that is try to act normal and just ask you out."

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"Yeah, 'added sense of possessiveness and expectation of reciprocation' are the sort of thing that makes me very wary. The 'except it's stronger and magic' part is also pretty unnerving."

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"The magic part is only relevant if anyone tries to break it or manipulate it, the stronger part—is probably just part of being what I am, my happy is stronger, my sad is stronger, my angry is stronger, every emotion is hugely amplified. Maybe the mate bond is stronger even relative to the other heightened feelings but when you're comparing numbers that large... I have no excuse for the possessiveness and reciprocation parts, though."

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"The magic part is also relevant in that it happens involuntarily when you look at somebody. If it weren't for this thing, well, maybe we would be perfect for each other but you wouldn't be bound to that from the moment you saw me and you could go find somebody else who was also perfect for you but lived in a science fantasy world and therefore came with fewer complications."

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He stops himself from producing an involuntary whiny sound and says, "Most people won't run into this problem because most people won't run into unprecedented magical keys that bring them to... not science fantasy worlds. But yes that is a pretty big drawback."

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"Yeah."

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"But I did."

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"And this is the situation in which we now find ourselves," Milan agrees.

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"—and even beyond the part where I don't want to be pushy about it I kinda, uh, am relying on you to make decisions here because you're the native, so—what do you think we should do now—?"

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"I... am having some trouble with that," he admits.

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"Well, what were you going to go do before I—happened?"

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"I was going to go check my a-mail and then probably read a book."

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"Well, I could—" Pause. "...not do anything large-scale and ambitious at all...?"

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"That sounds like a good plan."

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"What do people even do here if they can't—science—or altruism—?"

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"...what do you mean by altruism - actually, I shouldn't ask, I'll just take your word for it that it would've been large-scale and ambitious and therefore a bad idea, no need to tempt myself."

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He nods. "But I mean in general—like, technological advances are via science, is there not technology here, how does magic development even work—maybe I should just spend the night in a library reading every book—"

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"...can you read every book in a library in one night?"

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"...well if it's a small library."

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"...it might be a good idea to avoid handling the books much faster than they're used to," he says, "in case they're not up to it, but I can't think of any other ways you could cause trouble by sitting in a library reading all night, if you actually sat in the library reading all night and didn't decide to run off and do things somewhere in the middle."

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"I won't. Promise."

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"Thank you."

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"You're welcome. ...where's the library?"

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"I'll show you." He starts walking.

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He follows and fails not to look like he's completely and totally in love.

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Yep that sure is what's happening here.

Library! It's medium-sized. It contains books. There are also some crystal balls, whose position in the library layout is reminiscent of public computers.

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"—what are those for?" he points.

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"Mm? Oh. Crystal balls. For gazing the aethernet."

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"Which if this translation's working would be some magical form of knowledge repository and worldwide communication platform?"

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"Approximately! Is there some analogous-but-not-identical science fantasy equivalent?"

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"Yeah, it works with something like canned lightning, no magic involved, and would be called 'internet'."

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"I don't seek out science fantasy, but the stuff that's supposed to be Just Like The Modern Imperium I think has a convention of going with a different spelling of 'aether', so it becomes 'ethernet' and a-mail is e-mail and so forth. Not very creative. 'Internet' sounds intriguingly exotic."

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"We have e-mail, but the e's for 'electronic' which relates back to 'electricity' which is the kind of thing lightning is an instance of."

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"Maybe you should write a science fantasy book while you're here. - no, on second thought I feel like that would just encourage the wrong patterns of thought."

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"I'll probably just read a history of everyone who got squished by the universe here to get a shape for what to—expect, avoid."

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"Yeah, good plan."

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"Am I allowed to just stay here and read even while not being a student?"

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"Stay here and read, yes, but not check out any books, and if you cause a disturbance they can kick you out."

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"Okay. I guess I'll... see you later?" he says hopefully.

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"I'll come by first thing tomorrow," he says. "Promise."

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"Thank you," he breathes, obviously relieved.

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"See you tomorrow. Enjoy the library."

Off he goes.

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And he enjoys the library.

...well. Given the circumstances, perhaps enjoys is too strong a word. He misses Milan thrice per second but manages to read anyway.

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Here is a book about famous incidents of attempted science. Someone tried to figure out a consistent underlying pattern to the way objects fall when dropped, and now there is a patch of desert where gravity has ceased to apply. A number of people over the years have tried to invent something like a steam engine; the smarter ones stopped trying after the first couple of explosions and were therefore still alive to be interviewed about their failure. And on and on and on and on and on.

Also it doesn't take a ton of reading between the lines to conclude that the Imperium is a totalitarian dictatorship. And the legal status of nonhumans is sketchy in some contexts and outright oppressive in others. And at this very school, students who are out after dark outside designated safe zones (lighted paths, etc) run a significant risk of being eaten by ghouls. This is out of the ordinary but not sufficient to seriously dent the school's prestige. Being eaten by ghouls: just one of those things that happens.

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Okay he's getting increasingly irritated, then angry, then terrified, then angrier about the world he's in as he takes more in. What the duck.

He reads on. He has all night.

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Certain forms of slavery are perfectly legal! If you run into one of the fae and they don't approve of your conduct you may end up cursed, with no recourse except to fulfill the curse's ending condition if you happen to know it! Here is an extensive list of examples of why trying to break fairy curses without fulfilling the ending condition is a terrible idea that is going to end badly! They can get real creative with these things! Dragons: do not fuck with them, they'll eat you! Nymphs: since sex is their sacred duty, obscenity laws don't apply to any activity involving a nymph; but since sex is their sacred duty, it is legally impossible to rape one!

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...he resolves to ask Milan whether overthrowing government counts as something the universe will squish you for.

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It probably does. The Imperium definitely qualifies as a very powerful thing.

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Well, he'll still ask. Maybe if he does it a bit at a time.

...how did it even get that powerful anyway.

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The glorious history of the Empire, that's how.

...it's just kind of been around for a really long time and had the upper hand over all its neighbours for most of that. Oh and there were gods involved at some point.

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Are there, like, other countries.

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Yes! Lots! Many of them are of the form 'a dragon lives here so the empire just sort of grew around it'. Some of the rest are too far away to conquer, or inhospitable enough for reasons of populace or geography that it wasn't worth the bother.

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Are they also terrible?

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Well the dragon ones sound pretty bad. And the mountainous minor kingdom of Laefair is ruled by a lich, which the author of this particular book seems to think is so obviously self-evidently terrible that he needn't go on to discuss any actual details.

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Other books on liches?

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Liches are high-level wizards who have used advanced arcane magic to preserve themselves beyond death. Most of them eventually end up as skeletons. They're, like, almost invariably evil, but there's no explanation of why that is.

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Evil as in creepy or evil as in eat babies? Because this place, he wouldn't be surprised if it was the former.

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Well they can't eat babies because they can't eat. But, you know, plenty of them murder and torture people and so on. Also they are indeed really creepy.

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Yeah okay, weird but this whole world is weird and he probably has other—

—he probably shouldn't be listing things to fix in his head, should he. He reads on.