Miera Sundew is a young stifled elf who just awoke to the same thing everyone awakes to on their 12th birthday. Their class. However, with a too literal system in place, the term "Pinball Wizard" might have Miera casting spells more often than she gets to hit the arcades.
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Pinball Wizard (Original System Fantasy)
- Thread starter NotTheBaptist
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Chapter 1: Quarter Crunching Fun
New
NotTheBaptist
Getting some practice in, huh?
- Joined
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"12 is an important number. The most theologically important number, to be accurate. We measure our time in 2 divisions of 12, there are 12 months in a year, the first Priest of the System, Aclot, was said to have spent 12 days and 12 nights feeding the poor. And of course, the age when the System gifts its children with a Class, is at the start of their 12th year." - Liber Dominicus
"It's not fair!!" She wailed. She cried. She pounded her indignant fists against the dining room table.
"Now, sweetie, you knew this! You knew you were going to have to wait another four years to-" Miera threw a balloon at her father in impotent 12 year old rage.
"You didn't have to wait! Mum didn't have to wait! Why should I?!"
"Because this is a very important decision, Mimi, and we don't want you to make a decision you will end up regretting." Her mother rubbed her on the shoulder, soothingly. Absently, Miera dusted her shoulders free of glitter.
Miera's Mother was a case study in picking the right class. At the age of 12, Finniera Brambles had really, really wanted to be a cheerleader. At the age of 39, the [Level 7 Cheerleader] had no Skills which were applicable to her job as a clerk. Just the tendency to shed an absurd amount of body glitter in her day-to-day life.
"But Muuuuuuuummmmm-uh! I'm not like you, I'm not gonna realise I didn't want this for myself six years down the line!! I'm trustworthy!" She squeaked indignantly, hands on her hips. Her mother immediately countered the power pose with arms folded. The residual glitter didn't dampen the effect.
A thoroughly cowed Miera deflated under her mother's sharp gaze.
"Miera. Hun. Trust us. It will be better if you wait! You'll wake up in ten, maybe fifteen years and realise we were right for wanting you to pick a valuable Class, something that really helps you out in today's job market! Like… an architect! Or a builder, or or or a bricklayer! Or-"
A lot of Finniera's knowledge of what constituted a valuable job was acquired through work hubbub. See, Finniera worked as a clerk, but a clerk down at city hall. Meaning a lot of chitchat was about what was good for the city at the time. The city of Orange Logos was currently undergoing a very robust expansion program, meaning they were calling for all sorts of high level builders, loggers, architects, brick-layers, even the one on record [Cement-Mixer] to come to their city.
She had been, in her mind, subtly pitching the concept to her daughter, and felt like she was making real headway.
"For the one billionth time, I'm not becoming a builder!!! I'm not gonna get fat, and smelly and grow hair on my knuckles and wear a silly hat!! Why can't I pick something fun?!"
"Well, why bother thinking about the future?!" Her mother threw her hands up in the air. "Why not just pick the thing that interests you most right now and in 3 years time realise you got over it and it was just a phase! Like that-that… parlour game you play in the arcade! What's it called… Pinned balls!?"
Miera went quiet, puffing out her cheeks. She looked to one side, she looked at her dad, looking for support. He had eloped off to the kitchen. She looked back at her mother. Her expression had changed, all that concerned fury had given way to dread. She saw her mother's pointed ears droop in characteristic elf-sadness.
"No. Nonono, don't tell me-a pinball player?! You want to waste your one chance to really make it in this world on a child's game??"
"I-well, maybe!! Maybe I do! Maybe I DO want to, is that so bad?!"
Finniera took a deep breath. She stood up, she placed her hands primly over her stomach, and her ears slowly worked themselves back into the typical long, thin pointed pride that elves have. "…If you still want to in four years, that is fine… But irrelevant of if you want to now or not, you still cannot, young lady. You know what the New Great Holy Systemic Church says."
Miera made a face like someone farted. The religion angle. Ugh. "We don't even go to church!"
"That doesn't mean I'm letting you commit heresy, young lady! We may not be… devout! And the local chapter may be different to what your father and I were taught in the Glade of Suharliden, but that doesn't mean we aren't going to be good followers and do as the local church says!!" She hissed.
"Oh my GOD Mum you don't need to say 'ThE gLaDe Of SuHaRlIdEn' every time! It's a stupid tiny elf village and it's boring and phones don't even work there cos of stupid magic!"
Her gaze turned thunderous. Her arms returned to their folded positions. She stared down at Miera.
"You better lower your tone, young lady. It is your birthday, and I am trying to be patient, but you are being ridiculous. Go to your room, and calm down."
Miera swallowed, and stomped off as loudly as she felt she could get away with.
"I can't believe her!!" She yelled, suddenly regaining her courage once in her room. "Who does she even think she is?? She makes me wanna!…" Miera started punching the air. It proved… unsatisfactory.
A few minutes later, Miera's ears started to droop. She gently fluffed her pillow, replaced it on her bed, and jumped from the top bunk.
Miera's room was…. Girly, to say the least. Pink walls, pink carpet, lacy pink bunk bed made out of some pink wood from some magic forest somewhere and a veritable collection of Beanie Buddies, Squashmelons, and other such brand name plushies. Her favourites (and the ones she was feeling bad for) got to sleep in bed with her! The rest got to rot in the bottom bunk. Carefully tucked in.
That being said, Miera felt no comfort or connection to her room at the moment. No, Miera felt an itch. An itch in her soul.
She needed to play some system-be-damned pinball. She grabbed her old fashioned coin purse, a little leather satchel that was perfect for storing quarters.
—
The local arcade was a scabby little place. That squiggly carpet they have to make stains blend in, a near perpetual BO + vomit smell and a shoddy prize counter to boot.
But it had pinball machines. Miera wasn't so sure what was so enrapturing about them. The sounds, the sights, the flipper noises, the fun little gimmicks and secrets people have to learn by playing them, the high skill ceiling?
There was a lot to love in Miera's eyes as she fished out her first quarter, and slid it into the "Kappa Flappa" machine.
As evidenced by the dancing kappas in furs and short dresses, the machine was themed after one of the neighbouring Cities, Nueve Carnation.
Miera lost herself to the thrum of the machine, letting her worries drift away in a sea of bumpers, flashing lights and flippers.
Until her mother stormed into the building.
"Miera Sundew. Young lady."
Miera was slightly too locked in to be respectful. "Mum Sundew. Old-" No, Miera wasn't thatstupid. "Normal aged woman."
"Might I ask you why you're here?"
"…I needed to calm down."
"That's…. Okay." Miera could feel her mother's frown. It didn't necessarily mean disapproval, it could just as easily be a frown of deep thought. "I would have… appreciated some warning before you went galavanting down the street. It's dangerous out there."
It really wasn't.
"Mh. Sorry. But if we talked, we'd just fight again, and I'd end up coming here anyway."
"That-that….is true…." She sighed again. "Sweetie, I… I'm sorry. I'm just… I made a mistake when I was your age. And…. I don't want you making the same one. I want you to succeed, but… I don't want you to succeed at the cost of your happiness, okay?"
Miera blinked in shock, the ball slipping between the flippers of the machine in her stupefaction. "Wait you're!?-"
Miera swallowed, this was a make or break moment. She turned around and embraced her mother in a hug.
"Miera… do you… understand what I'm saying?"
"Of course, I do! I…. I'm sorry, too, I didn't mean all that stuff, I just-I love you, and… and…"
"Shhh shhh… it's okay, baby, it's okay…" Finniera relaxed, combing a hand through her daughter's hair. Her heart swelling with pride. Her daughter was so much more mature than she was at her age… "Let's just… go home and eat cake and unwrap your presents, alright?"
"Mh. Shoundsh good…" she mumbled, slowly peeling away from her mother. They didn't understand each other, but she was glad they had found an accord on this. Machine abandoned, the three digit name code still flashing 'AAA'.
Of course, once they got home, a lot of cake was consumed, a lot of presents were unwrapped, a lot of thank you cards were forced to be written, and Miera finally managed to retreat to her room.
Miera was happy her mother had finally given in. She understood what Miera wanted, to be happy! And… there was only one class she really wanted, anyway.
She squeezed her eyes shut and thought of trumpets. In a fanfare, and a glow of light, a small text box appeared in the air.
Congratulations! Please select your Class:
[ ]
Warning! This cannot be changed after confirmation.
[Ok] [Cancel]
Trepidation filling her heart, she touched the little empty box. A small jumble of letters appeared below it, in a seemingly random order, It was just like the books and shows described it! Slowly, nervously, she began to type it out.
Congratulations! Please select your Class:
[ Pinball Player ]
Warning! This cannot be changed after confirmation.
[Ok] [Cancel]
Hm… no. No, that wouldn't do. She didn't want to be satisfied with playing pinball. She wanted to be the best at pinball.
She sighed. What was a class? A class was… the church always called it the highest calling. But… her dad had a different opinion.
—
3 years earlier.
"Hm? Whats a class? Its a thing you pick that makes you special, sweetheart. When you're tw-"
Finniera coughed dangerously before walking back upstairs.
"Sixteen… when you're sixteen, you'll get to pick one. One that you love."
The younger Miera was excited. But not stupid. "But Daaad, if you're a Tax Mage, why aren't you a [Tax Mage]?"
"Ahh, thats an interesting question, cupcake."
He stroked his chin, taking an altogether unreasonable amount of time to think by Miera's count. "I know your mother likes to think of Classes as… an opportunity to get a job easily, but for me they're different. Yes I muck around with numbers and mana but thats just a job, its not who I am. You can't just put people in a box, they're more than their jobs."
Miera frowned, internalising this. Cadigan Sundew didn't realise how deeply Miera would remember this conversation. To him it was a Tuesday, but to her it was the world.
"What is your class, Dad?"
He smiled fondly, visibly reminiscing on something. "[Outplay Strategist]."
"Eh? Whats that mean?"
He chuckles warmly. "It means I was a little know-it-all who wanted to beat my big brother in chess. Mimi… I don't regret picking what I did. But at least give your mum something to work with. She's just worried for you, love."
—
Her Mum saw Classes as a marketing opportunity. The church saw Classes as an absolute calling. Dad saw Classes as something less. To Dad a Class was a statement. A snapshot of who you were when you chose it, your greatest aspirations and dreams laid bare.
Congratulations! Please select your Class:
[ Pinball Wizard ]
Warning! This cannot be changed after confirmation.
[Ok] [Cancel]
And as she slowly lowered her finger onto the OK button a swell of triumphant trumpets filled the air around her.
New Class acquired! Pinball Wizard!
Starting Skill Acquired: [Basic Tome Comprehension]
Starting Skill Acquired: [Basic Mana Metabolisation]
Starting Spell Acquired: [Summon Lesser Money]
What.
And then, a yell, from downstairs.
"Miera Sundew, did I just hear a triumphant swell of trumpets?!"
What.
Starting Gear Unlocked: Baby's First Staff.
Starting Gear Unlocked: Novice Cone Hat.
Starting Gear Unlocked: Slightly-Deeper-Than-It-Looks Coinpurse.
Starting Gear Unlocked: Robe of Glitter
And then, she was buried under a small pile of junk, just in time for her mother to calmly open her door.
She took one look at the heap her daughter was in… and sighed, pulling the sparkly robe away and nearly folding it. It was nice to have a garment that she didn't get glitter on.
"We are going to have a big talk later." Her mother promised, as she gently folded and set down all of her new belongings.
"But for now, you seem confused and overwhelmed. I'm putting the kettle on."
What.
"It's not fair!!" She wailed. She cried. She pounded her indignant fists against the dining room table.
"Now, sweetie, you knew this! You knew you were going to have to wait another four years to-" Miera threw a balloon at her father in impotent 12 year old rage.
"You didn't have to wait! Mum didn't have to wait! Why should I?!"
"Because this is a very important decision, Mimi, and we don't want you to make a decision you will end up regretting." Her mother rubbed her on the shoulder, soothingly. Absently, Miera dusted her shoulders free of glitter.
Miera's Mother was a case study in picking the right class. At the age of 12, Finniera Brambles had really, really wanted to be a cheerleader. At the age of 39, the [Level 7 Cheerleader] had no Skills which were applicable to her job as a clerk. Just the tendency to shed an absurd amount of body glitter in her day-to-day life.
"But Muuuuuuuummmmm-uh! I'm not like you, I'm not gonna realise I didn't want this for myself six years down the line!! I'm trustworthy!" She squeaked indignantly, hands on her hips. Her mother immediately countered the power pose with arms folded. The residual glitter didn't dampen the effect.
A thoroughly cowed Miera deflated under her mother's sharp gaze.
"Miera. Hun. Trust us. It will be better if you wait! You'll wake up in ten, maybe fifteen years and realise we were right for wanting you to pick a valuable Class, something that really helps you out in today's job market! Like… an architect! Or a builder, or or or a bricklayer! Or-"
A lot of Finniera's knowledge of what constituted a valuable job was acquired through work hubbub. See, Finniera worked as a clerk, but a clerk down at city hall. Meaning a lot of chitchat was about what was good for the city at the time. The city of Orange Logos was currently undergoing a very robust expansion program, meaning they were calling for all sorts of high level builders, loggers, architects, brick-layers, even the one on record [Cement-Mixer] to come to their city.
She had been, in her mind, subtly pitching the concept to her daughter, and felt like she was making real headway.
"For the one billionth time, I'm not becoming a builder!!! I'm not gonna get fat, and smelly and grow hair on my knuckles and wear a silly hat!! Why can't I pick something fun?!"
"Well, why bother thinking about the future?!" Her mother threw her hands up in the air. "Why not just pick the thing that interests you most right now and in 3 years time realise you got over it and it was just a phase! Like that-that… parlour game you play in the arcade! What's it called… Pinned balls!?"
Miera went quiet, puffing out her cheeks. She looked to one side, she looked at her dad, looking for support. He had eloped off to the kitchen. She looked back at her mother. Her expression had changed, all that concerned fury had given way to dread. She saw her mother's pointed ears droop in characteristic elf-sadness.
"No. Nonono, don't tell me-a pinball player?! You want to waste your one chance to really make it in this world on a child's game??"
"I-well, maybe!! Maybe I do! Maybe I DO want to, is that so bad?!"
Finniera took a deep breath. She stood up, she placed her hands primly over her stomach, and her ears slowly worked themselves back into the typical long, thin pointed pride that elves have. "…If you still want to in four years, that is fine… But irrelevant of if you want to now or not, you still cannot, young lady. You know what the New Great Holy Systemic Church says."
Miera made a face like someone farted. The religion angle. Ugh. "We don't even go to church!"
"That doesn't mean I'm letting you commit heresy, young lady! We may not be… devout! And the local chapter may be different to what your father and I were taught in the Glade of Suharliden, but that doesn't mean we aren't going to be good followers and do as the local church says!!" She hissed.
"Oh my GOD Mum you don't need to say 'ThE gLaDe Of SuHaRlIdEn' every time! It's a stupid tiny elf village and it's boring and phones don't even work there cos of stupid magic!"
Her gaze turned thunderous. Her arms returned to their folded positions. She stared down at Miera.
"You better lower your tone, young lady. It is your birthday, and I am trying to be patient, but you are being ridiculous. Go to your room, and calm down."
Miera swallowed, and stomped off as loudly as she felt she could get away with.
"I can't believe her!!" She yelled, suddenly regaining her courage once in her room. "Who does she even think she is?? She makes me wanna!…" Miera started punching the air. It proved… unsatisfactory.
A few minutes later, Miera's ears started to droop. She gently fluffed her pillow, replaced it on her bed, and jumped from the top bunk.
Miera's room was…. Girly, to say the least. Pink walls, pink carpet, lacy pink bunk bed made out of some pink wood from some magic forest somewhere and a veritable collection of Beanie Buddies, Squashmelons, and other such brand name plushies. Her favourites (and the ones she was feeling bad for) got to sleep in bed with her! The rest got to rot in the bottom bunk. Carefully tucked in.
That being said, Miera felt no comfort or connection to her room at the moment. No, Miera felt an itch. An itch in her soul.
She needed to play some system-be-damned pinball. She grabbed her old fashioned coin purse, a little leather satchel that was perfect for storing quarters.
—
The local arcade was a scabby little place. That squiggly carpet they have to make stains blend in, a near perpetual BO + vomit smell and a shoddy prize counter to boot.
But it had pinball machines. Miera wasn't so sure what was so enrapturing about them. The sounds, the sights, the flipper noises, the fun little gimmicks and secrets people have to learn by playing them, the high skill ceiling?
There was a lot to love in Miera's eyes as she fished out her first quarter, and slid it into the "Kappa Flappa" machine.
As evidenced by the dancing kappas in furs and short dresses, the machine was themed after one of the neighbouring Cities, Nueve Carnation.
Miera lost herself to the thrum of the machine, letting her worries drift away in a sea of bumpers, flashing lights and flippers.
Until her mother stormed into the building.
"Miera Sundew. Young lady."
Miera was slightly too locked in to be respectful. "Mum Sundew. Old-" No, Miera wasn't thatstupid. "Normal aged woman."
"Might I ask you why you're here?"
"…I needed to calm down."
"That's…. Okay." Miera could feel her mother's frown. It didn't necessarily mean disapproval, it could just as easily be a frown of deep thought. "I would have… appreciated some warning before you went galavanting down the street. It's dangerous out there."
It really wasn't.
"Mh. Sorry. But if we talked, we'd just fight again, and I'd end up coming here anyway."
"That-that….is true…." She sighed again. "Sweetie, I… I'm sorry. I'm just… I made a mistake when I was your age. And…. I don't want you making the same one. I want you to succeed, but… I don't want you to succeed at the cost of your happiness, okay?"
Miera blinked in shock, the ball slipping between the flippers of the machine in her stupefaction. "Wait you're!?-"
Miera swallowed, this was a make or break moment. She turned around and embraced her mother in a hug.
"Miera… do you… understand what I'm saying?"
"Of course, I do! I…. I'm sorry, too, I didn't mean all that stuff, I just-I love you, and… and…"
"Shhh shhh… it's okay, baby, it's okay…" Finniera relaxed, combing a hand through her daughter's hair. Her heart swelling with pride. Her daughter was so much more mature than she was at her age… "Let's just… go home and eat cake and unwrap your presents, alright?"
"Mh. Shoundsh good…" she mumbled, slowly peeling away from her mother. They didn't understand each other, but she was glad they had found an accord on this. Machine abandoned, the three digit name code still flashing 'AAA'.
Of course, once they got home, a lot of cake was consumed, a lot of presents were unwrapped, a lot of thank you cards were forced to be written, and Miera finally managed to retreat to her room.
Miera was happy her mother had finally given in. She understood what Miera wanted, to be happy! And… there was only one class she really wanted, anyway.
She squeezed her eyes shut and thought of trumpets. In a fanfare, and a glow of light, a small text box appeared in the air.
Congratulations! Please select your Class:
[ ]
Warning! This cannot be changed after confirmation.
[Ok] [Cancel]
Trepidation filling her heart, she touched the little empty box. A small jumble of letters appeared below it, in a seemingly random order, It was just like the books and shows described it! Slowly, nervously, she began to type it out.
Congratulations! Please select your Class:
[ Pinball Player ]
Warning! This cannot be changed after confirmation.
[Ok] [Cancel]
Hm… no. No, that wouldn't do. She didn't want to be satisfied with playing pinball. She wanted to be the best at pinball.
She sighed. What was a class? A class was… the church always called it the highest calling. But… her dad had a different opinion.
—
3 years earlier.
"Hm? Whats a class? Its a thing you pick that makes you special, sweetheart. When you're tw-"
Finniera coughed dangerously before walking back upstairs.
"Sixteen… when you're sixteen, you'll get to pick one. One that you love."
The younger Miera was excited. But not stupid. "But Daaad, if you're a Tax Mage, why aren't you a [Tax Mage]?"
"Ahh, thats an interesting question, cupcake."
He stroked his chin, taking an altogether unreasonable amount of time to think by Miera's count. "I know your mother likes to think of Classes as… an opportunity to get a job easily, but for me they're different. Yes I muck around with numbers and mana but thats just a job, its not who I am. You can't just put people in a box, they're more than their jobs."
Miera frowned, internalising this. Cadigan Sundew didn't realise how deeply Miera would remember this conversation. To him it was a Tuesday, but to her it was the world.
"What is your class, Dad?"
He smiled fondly, visibly reminiscing on something. "[Outplay Strategist]."
"Eh? Whats that mean?"
He chuckles warmly. "It means I was a little know-it-all who wanted to beat my big brother in chess. Mimi… I don't regret picking what I did. But at least give your mum something to work with. She's just worried for you, love."
—
Her Mum saw Classes as a marketing opportunity. The church saw Classes as an absolute calling. Dad saw Classes as something less. To Dad a Class was a statement. A snapshot of who you were when you chose it, your greatest aspirations and dreams laid bare.
Congratulations! Please select your Class:
[ Pinball Wizard ]
Warning! This cannot be changed after confirmation.
[Ok] [Cancel]
And as she slowly lowered her finger onto the OK button a swell of triumphant trumpets filled the air around her.
New Class acquired! Pinball Wizard!
Starting Skill Acquired: [Basic Tome Comprehension]
Starting Skill Acquired: [Basic Mana Metabolisation]
Starting Spell Acquired: [Summon Lesser Money]
What.
And then, a yell, from downstairs.
"Miera Sundew, did I just hear a triumphant swell of trumpets?!"
What.
Starting Gear Unlocked: Baby's First Staff.
Starting Gear Unlocked: Novice Cone Hat.
Starting Gear Unlocked: Slightly-Deeper-Than-It-Looks Coinpurse.
Starting Gear Unlocked: Robe of Glitter
And then, she was buried under a small pile of junk, just in time for her mother to calmly open her door.
She took one look at the heap her daughter was in… and sighed, pulling the sparkly robe away and nearly folding it. It was nice to have a garment that she didn't get glitter on.
"We are going to have a big talk later." Her mother promised, as she gently folded and set down all of her new belongings.
"But for now, you seem confused and overwhelmed. I'm putting the kettle on."
What.
Chapter 2: Multiball Round
New
NotTheBaptist
Getting some practice in, huh?
- Joined
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Robe of Glitter: Thousands of years ago, ancient [Astromancers] forged stars out of stone, and weaved them into robes of light. Commemorating the birth of the Wizard, these 50% cotton 50% polyester blend robes shine like a beacon into the beyond.
[+1 Mana Metabolisation]
[+1 Magic Defence]
Elves are pretentious. This is a known fact of life, the older Elves get, the more pretentious they act. Dwarves get more meticulous, humans get…wrinklier, Gnomes get more cunning.
But elves? Ooooh Elves get pretentious. Suddenly, their grandmothers dinner plate is "Fliddlewynnn, the finest piece of pottery ever sculpted" or some such.
This being understood, it is no wonder that tea took no less than 40 minutes of preparation, then a 20 minute steep, and then when it was done, Miera thought it was an awful lot of fuss for very little reward, relatively speaking.
Miera sipped the quite-delicious-but-not-one-hour-of-preparation-delicious-tea with no small amount of dread.
"So." Her mother delicately placed Galienbrun, The Teacup of Everlasting Eternity, Third of its name, the Deepest Everflowing Chalice of House Brambles on Tarienfwyn, the-she put her teacup on her tea saucer. "You've chosen your class." She spoke matter-of-factly.
Miera fidgeted, groping her own mug. "Yeah. Yeah I have."
"Well… I certainly hope you have a good reason as to why, when we discussed this and I thought we came to an agreement."
"Well I did too! You said you understood how I was feeling and you wanted me to be happy!!" Miera's face scrunched up.
"Yes and I recall you saying you understood why I had to do what I did."
"I-well, I thought that was in the past-tense! Like 'yes I see why you DID that but now you're cool Mum and you're letting me commit heresy!' Y'know, that kinda thing!"
"I see. Well… it appears we both heard what we wanted to hear, rather than what we were actually saying, doesn't it?"
"Yeah. Uh… sure seems that way, haha…" Miera weakly laughed, trailing off.
"All that being said." Her face slowly began to grow into a smile. A genuine one, a proud one. "What Class did you end up picking? I got a peek at your equipment, very interesting. Decided to pick a spellcaster, I see?" She had a knowing glint in her eye.
Wait…? No, she couldn't possibly-
"Wh-Mum no! No! I absolutely did not!"
"I'm just saying, a money pouch, and wizard gear…?" She smirked. "Only really one option, dear."
"I'm not a [Tax Mage]!! Ew, gross gross gross!"
Miera stuck her tongue out in disgust. Her father frowned, hurt, adjusting his spectacles.
"Well why not? Your father makes a very good salary as a Tax Mage! It's safe, it's productive, it's-"
"Not what I picked!"
"Oh, then what was it?" Her mother questioned with an 'I don't believe you' smirk.
"….I-it's-it was…. Puhbull wisherd…" Miera whispered to the carpet, with her lips closed.
"Mhm."
"I!-"
Wait. There was an opportunity here.
"Ugh! You're, like, sooooo the worst, Mum!" She scoffed and rolled her eyes, as big and angry as she could. Her Mum cooed and gave her a big kiss and a hug. Hook, line and sinker.
"Awwww, hunnie, I know, I know! I'm just… happy you made a responsible, safe choice. It… it says a lot about your character, I'm really really proud of you."
The glitter on her face turned to ash in a moment.
"Yeah. Thanks, Mum, uhm…. Can I…?" She gestured to the front door.
Finniera smiled, nodded and let her go.
—
The moment Miera turned the corner, Finni's smile dropped. See, Finni had caught onto Miera's little scheme throughout the years. A sudden defeat was proof that Miera was lying.
"Oh, Mimi… what Class did you take that you can't tell us…?"
She drained her cup, and then the rest of Miera's quickly after that. Too quickly, for an elf's standards. But nobody was looking. She didn't need to be so above it all, anymore.
"…Whatever she chose it better not be about that stupid fucking game."
—
'Casting spells is about three things. Expectation, Channeling and acting really cool.'
'Expectation meant intent, shaping the spell in your mind, really really wanting it to happen, and what sort of thing you thought of when you thought of magic. It meant lazy casters could cast quicker than extravagant ones but usually at a cost in spell quality. This relates to the second point, channeling.'
'Channeling was about as far from Expectation as possible. They were opposites, that you had to balance. If Expectation was governed by whimsy, and Chaos, then Channeling was governed by an elected body. Channeling is all the checks and balances, the logic, giving the spell wheels, so to speak. Pushing metabolised magic into a shape and then making it your enemies problem.'
'Acting really cool was actually an important step. It actually helps with pushing metabolising mana and like confidence and-okay it's all Aura Farming. There's no third rule about being cool. It's simply the fact that Wizards are often nerds who suffer from a lifelong anxiety disorder. At least, until they learn how to cast fireball and grow a cool beard. But acting is a genuine part of it. Unless you feel cool you can't really cast a spell at full power because of how it messes with your Expectation.'
'Of course, some wizards are so adept at Channeling that the Channeling process FUELS their Expectation. A wizard who knows the exact shape of every spell in their tome no longer needs Expectation. They simply have Knowledge.'
'Knowledge is not part of the Expectation/Channeling equation. It is a natural conclusion of the Wizard, and all other Channeling heavy spellcasters.'
'So get out there, fire some balls and find the right stick for you, young apprentices!'
"Huh." Miera hummed, sat in a public library reading a [Novice Tome of Minor Wizardry: Level 1] "So that's how magic works."
She closed her eyes, thinking of trumpets.
[Bio] [Skills] [Journal]
Miera Sundew
[Level 1 Pinball Wizard]
Elf
M.STR: 12
M.DEF: 10
INT: 8
LCK: 6
DEX: 5
STR: 3
DEF: 2
WIS: 1
Quest: To Level 2
That was her status screen. She had moved some stuff around, tidied up a li'l bit in there, moved her unimpressive stat spread around a smidge, and shuffled her shameful list of Skills to a cascading tab.
"Okay, Miera… your first spell!~ oooh, I can't wait!"
She was wrong. She could wait. Not in a bathroom. Not in a public library bathroom. Not without her staff. She returned her book, and scurried home.
An hour later she was at in her room, crooked staff in hand. She tapped it against her carpet, straightening her back, amplifying her voice and sterning her tone.
Then, she felt it. It started in her stomach, and bloomed outwards in tendrils. It crept through her body. She felt-she felt hot and sick, her body starting to cramp-and she let go of the mana, gasping. It exited her body over the course of ten minutes. An agonising full body cramp throughout.
There was nothing she could liken it to. Shr hadn't ever experienced anything like it! It was like the migraine she got a year ago. One minute, she was scrapbooking, the next? She couldn't do anything but lie there and focus on breathing.
Until the heat seceded her body, at which point she felt her body snap back into place.
"Hasah… hoo…" she slowly sat up and stretched. That was… AWFUL! She was neeeever doing that again!
What the hell magic, you SCAMMED me! I was supposed to get a coin not a cramp!
Miera took a deep breath in and out. Her Expectation was… strong. She was expecting it! So it must've been. So… it was the Channeling that was shoddy.
She was… supposed to shape it, right. She stood up, grabbed her staff and despite her earlier words, tried again. She took her magic and let it bloom, the little flower in her stomach spitting out wht was undoubtedly magic, but this time she caught it. It was how she imagined cotton candy int he machine. Whispy, individual and in need of… compressing.
She did what came naturally. She worked her core muscles around the whisps of mana and felt it starting to condense! Yes! Her muscles were shapijg it into a ball but… she wanted ot to be a coin. So she tried to slowly squash it into a coin. It wasn't working. She hummed in thought.
If the mana could move… she cut off the flow. She felt like the mana was enough now. She… squeezed her muscles, pushing the ball around her insides like toothpaste in a tube up her arm until it was sitting warm in her hand. And then she started flattening it into a coin shape between her hands. Eventually it was a large flat disc with a slight lip on the edge.
It reminded her of a coin, which was a good thing. She was fairly confident this would work.
She picked up her staff and awkwardly tried to shovel her mana coin into it. It wasn't working. It wasn't being repelled or anything it just… wasn't going in.
The coin was starting to wobble in her hand, it felt like she was loosing her comtrol so she just threw it into the room and, unbidden, an old voice spat through her mouth.
"Blooming herb, heed my call, grow forth a sprig of iron!"
And it was so.
There was no glow, no boom, no flash of light, the incomplete magic hung in the air for a moment and then-plink! A single, tarnished quarter slowly fell onto her carpet, from head height.
Meanwhile, in a nearby gutter, the rainy season had just started. The gutters weren't quite clogged yet, but the cleaners were certainly going to be working overtime to make sure the drainage didn't back up.
Amongst the leaf litter and detritivores sat a single, slime coated, tarnished copper quartercoin. As if by magic, the leaf litter shifted, fully hiding the barely shining coin.
And if you can't see something, does it even matter that it's there? This coin had a purpose greater than sitting in the gutter. And like it was never there to begin with, it appeared in a young girls lap, a few streets away.
Staff left forgotten on the floor, she cradled the coin, staring dumbfounded… before a big stupid grin began to creep up her lips.
"Haha… Hahahahaa!!! Yes!!! I win! I cast magic! I cast magic and it's… really grohohooss…" She grimaced, pinching the slimy quarter. Gently depositing it into her handkerchief.
"Bleck, I'll polish that later… hah. Polish. Jeez, what am I, some kinda old lady with a teacup?" she said, and then immediately and eagerly started drying it of slime, and that was all!… that was all she was gonna do.
"Muuuuum! Where's the nail polish remover??" He was her first spell! He needed some time, love and care. He deserved it.
—
After giving her quarter a spa treatment, she flopped back, holding the gleaming orange coin up proudly.
The quarter held on one side the image of a horse, and on the other a hammer. It was the spitting image of a real Orange Logos quartercoin.
"Hehehe… eeeeee!~ I can cast spells!!~" she squee-ed, not for the first time, rolling left and right, cradling the coin tight to her chest. This was a milestone. She didn't think it would be, she always thought magic was something for dorks with no social skills.
Not her! Not Miera, with her 2 friends, and cute blonde hair and… and…
Oh god, her one hobby was pinball.
Oh god she was a loser.
Needless to say, she was born to be a caster, which was a good thing and definitely not a bad thing.
She was a talented wizard and can triumphantly say that she was cool now and that wizards are cool and not a lame loser class for losers as previous data would suggest.
She opened her status screen.
[Bio] [Skills] [Journal]
Miera Sundew
[Level 1 Pinball Wizard]
Elf
MM: 1/3
M.STR: 12
M.DEF: 10
INT: 8
LCK: 6
DEX: 5
STR: 3
DEF: 2
WIS: 1
Quest: To Level 2
Okay! Thats two down-wait hold on new stat. MM? Huh? She leans in, frowning and furrowing her brow.
"What are YOU doing here." She pointed at it, accusatorially.
The stoic statistic stalwartly stared back.
"Are you mocking me?…"
[+1 Mana Metabolisation]
[+1 Magic Defence]
Elves are pretentious. This is a known fact of life, the older Elves get, the more pretentious they act. Dwarves get more meticulous, humans get…wrinklier, Gnomes get more cunning.
But elves? Ooooh Elves get pretentious. Suddenly, their grandmothers dinner plate is "Fliddlewynnn, the finest piece of pottery ever sculpted" or some such.
This being understood, it is no wonder that tea took no less than 40 minutes of preparation, then a 20 minute steep, and then when it was done, Miera thought it was an awful lot of fuss for very little reward, relatively speaking.
Miera sipped the quite-delicious-but-not-one-hour-of-preparation-delicious-tea with no small amount of dread.
"So." Her mother delicately placed Galienbrun, The Teacup of Everlasting Eternity, Third of its name, the Deepest Everflowing Chalice of House Brambles on Tarienfwyn, the-she put her teacup on her tea saucer. "You've chosen your class." She spoke matter-of-factly.
Miera fidgeted, groping her own mug. "Yeah. Yeah I have."
"Well… I certainly hope you have a good reason as to why, when we discussed this and I thought we came to an agreement."
"Well I did too! You said you understood how I was feeling and you wanted me to be happy!!" Miera's face scrunched up.
"Yes and I recall you saying you understood why I had to do what I did."
"I-well, I thought that was in the past-tense! Like 'yes I see why you DID that but now you're cool Mum and you're letting me commit heresy!' Y'know, that kinda thing!"
"I see. Well… it appears we both heard what we wanted to hear, rather than what we were actually saying, doesn't it?"
"Yeah. Uh… sure seems that way, haha…" Miera weakly laughed, trailing off.
"All that being said." Her face slowly began to grow into a smile. A genuine one, a proud one. "What Class did you end up picking? I got a peek at your equipment, very interesting. Decided to pick a spellcaster, I see?" She had a knowing glint in her eye.
Wait…? No, she couldn't possibly-
"Wh-Mum no! No! I absolutely did not!"
"I'm just saying, a money pouch, and wizard gear…?" She smirked. "Only really one option, dear."
"I'm not a [Tax Mage]!! Ew, gross gross gross!"
Miera stuck her tongue out in disgust. Her father frowned, hurt, adjusting his spectacles.
"Well why not? Your father makes a very good salary as a Tax Mage! It's safe, it's productive, it's-"
"Not what I picked!"
"Oh, then what was it?" Her mother questioned with an 'I don't believe you' smirk.
"….I-it's-it was…. Puhbull wisherd…" Miera whispered to the carpet, with her lips closed.
"Mhm."
"I!-"
Wait. There was an opportunity here.
"Ugh! You're, like, sooooo the worst, Mum!" She scoffed and rolled her eyes, as big and angry as she could. Her Mum cooed and gave her a big kiss and a hug. Hook, line and sinker.
"Awwww, hunnie, I know, I know! I'm just… happy you made a responsible, safe choice. It… it says a lot about your character, I'm really really proud of you."
The glitter on her face turned to ash in a moment.
"Yeah. Thanks, Mum, uhm…. Can I…?" She gestured to the front door.
Finniera smiled, nodded and let her go.
—
The moment Miera turned the corner, Finni's smile dropped. See, Finni had caught onto Miera's little scheme throughout the years. A sudden defeat was proof that Miera was lying.
"Oh, Mimi… what Class did you take that you can't tell us…?"
She drained her cup, and then the rest of Miera's quickly after that. Too quickly, for an elf's standards. But nobody was looking. She didn't need to be so above it all, anymore.
"…Whatever she chose it better not be about that stupid fucking game."
—
'Casting spells is about three things. Expectation, Channeling and acting really cool.'
'Expectation meant intent, shaping the spell in your mind, really really wanting it to happen, and what sort of thing you thought of when you thought of magic. It meant lazy casters could cast quicker than extravagant ones but usually at a cost in spell quality. This relates to the second point, channeling.'
'Channeling was about as far from Expectation as possible. They were opposites, that you had to balance. If Expectation was governed by whimsy, and Chaos, then Channeling was governed by an elected body. Channeling is all the checks and balances, the logic, giving the spell wheels, so to speak. Pushing metabolised magic into a shape and then making it your enemies problem.'
'Acting really cool was actually an important step. It actually helps with pushing metabolising mana and like confidence and-okay it's all Aura Farming. There's no third rule about being cool. It's simply the fact that Wizards are often nerds who suffer from a lifelong anxiety disorder. At least, until they learn how to cast fireball and grow a cool beard. But acting is a genuine part of it. Unless you feel cool you can't really cast a spell at full power because of how it messes with your Expectation.'
'Of course, some wizards are so adept at Channeling that the Channeling process FUELS their Expectation. A wizard who knows the exact shape of every spell in their tome no longer needs Expectation. They simply have Knowledge.'
'Knowledge is not part of the Expectation/Channeling equation. It is a natural conclusion of the Wizard, and all other Channeling heavy spellcasters.'
'So get out there, fire some balls and find the right stick for you, young apprentices!'
"Huh." Miera hummed, sat in a public library reading a [Novice Tome of Minor Wizardry: Level 1] "So that's how magic works."
She closed her eyes, thinking of trumpets.
[Bio] [Skills] [Journal]
Miera Sundew
[Level 1 Pinball Wizard]
Elf
M.STR: 12
M.DEF: 10
INT: 8
LCK: 6
DEX: 5
STR: 3
DEF: 2
WIS: 1
Quest: To Level 2
- Learn 1 thing from a Tome
- Play Pinball for 20 minutes
- Cast your first spell
That was her status screen. She had moved some stuff around, tidied up a li'l bit in there, moved her unimpressive stat spread around a smidge, and shuffled her shameful list of Skills to a cascading tab.
"Okay, Miera… your first spell!~ oooh, I can't wait!"
She was wrong. She could wait. Not in a bathroom. Not in a public library bathroom. Not without her staff. She returned her book, and scurried home.
An hour later she was at in her room, crooked staff in hand. She tapped it against her carpet, straightening her back, amplifying her voice and sterning her tone.
Then, she felt it. It started in her stomach, and bloomed outwards in tendrils. It crept through her body. She felt-she felt hot and sick, her body starting to cramp-and she let go of the mana, gasping. It exited her body over the course of ten minutes. An agonising full body cramp throughout.
There was nothing she could liken it to. Shr hadn't ever experienced anything like it! It was like the migraine she got a year ago. One minute, she was scrapbooking, the next? She couldn't do anything but lie there and focus on breathing.
Until the heat seceded her body, at which point she felt her body snap back into place.
"Hasah… hoo…" she slowly sat up and stretched. That was… AWFUL! She was neeeever doing that again!
What the hell magic, you SCAMMED me! I was supposed to get a coin not a cramp!
Miera took a deep breath in and out. Her Expectation was… strong. She was expecting it! So it must've been. So… it was the Channeling that was shoddy.
She was… supposed to shape it, right. She stood up, grabbed her staff and despite her earlier words, tried again. She took her magic and let it bloom, the little flower in her stomach spitting out wht was undoubtedly magic, but this time she caught it. It was how she imagined cotton candy int he machine. Whispy, individual and in need of… compressing.
She did what came naturally. She worked her core muscles around the whisps of mana and felt it starting to condense! Yes! Her muscles were shapijg it into a ball but… she wanted ot to be a coin. So she tried to slowly squash it into a coin. It wasn't working. She hummed in thought.
If the mana could move… she cut off the flow. She felt like the mana was enough now. She… squeezed her muscles, pushing the ball around her insides like toothpaste in a tube up her arm until it was sitting warm in her hand. And then she started flattening it into a coin shape between her hands. Eventually it was a large flat disc with a slight lip on the edge.
It reminded her of a coin, which was a good thing. She was fairly confident this would work.
She picked up her staff and awkwardly tried to shovel her mana coin into it. It wasn't working. It wasn't being repelled or anything it just… wasn't going in.
The coin was starting to wobble in her hand, it felt like she was loosing her comtrol so she just threw it into the room and, unbidden, an old voice spat through her mouth.
"Blooming herb, heed my call, grow forth a sprig of iron!"
And it was so.
There was no glow, no boom, no flash of light, the incomplete magic hung in the air for a moment and then-plink! A single, tarnished quarter slowly fell onto her carpet, from head height.
Meanwhile, in a nearby gutter, the rainy season had just started. The gutters weren't quite clogged yet, but the cleaners were certainly going to be working overtime to make sure the drainage didn't back up.
Amongst the leaf litter and detritivores sat a single, slime coated, tarnished copper quartercoin. As if by magic, the leaf litter shifted, fully hiding the barely shining coin.
And if you can't see something, does it even matter that it's there? This coin had a purpose greater than sitting in the gutter. And like it was never there to begin with, it appeared in a young girls lap, a few streets away.
Staff left forgotten on the floor, she cradled the coin, staring dumbfounded… before a big stupid grin began to creep up her lips.
"Haha… Hahahahaa!!! Yes!!! I win! I cast magic! I cast magic and it's… really grohohooss…" She grimaced, pinching the slimy quarter. Gently depositing it into her handkerchief.
"Bleck, I'll polish that later… hah. Polish. Jeez, what am I, some kinda old lady with a teacup?" she said, and then immediately and eagerly started drying it of slime, and that was all!… that was all she was gonna do.
"Muuuuum! Where's the nail polish remover??" He was her first spell! He needed some time, love and care. He deserved it.
—
After giving her quarter a spa treatment, she flopped back, holding the gleaming orange coin up proudly.
The quarter held on one side the image of a horse, and on the other a hammer. It was the spitting image of a real Orange Logos quartercoin.
"Hehehe… eeeeee!~ I can cast spells!!~" she squee-ed, not for the first time, rolling left and right, cradling the coin tight to her chest. This was a milestone. She didn't think it would be, she always thought magic was something for dorks with no social skills.
Not her! Not Miera, with her 2 friends, and cute blonde hair and… and…
Oh god, her one hobby was pinball.
Oh god she was a loser.
Needless to say, she was born to be a caster, which was a good thing and definitely not a bad thing.
She was a talented wizard and can triumphantly say that she was cool now and that wizards are cool and not a lame loser class for losers as previous data would suggest.
She opened her status screen.
[Bio] [Skills] [Journal]
Miera Sundew
[Level 1 Pinball Wizard]
Elf
MM: 1/3
M.STR: 12
M.DEF: 10
INT: 8
LCK: 6
DEX: 5
STR: 3
DEF: 2
WIS: 1
Quest: To Level 2
- Learn 1 thing from a Tome
- Play Pinball for 20 minutes
- Cast your first spell
Okay! Thats two down-wait hold on new stat. MM? Huh? She leans in, frowning and furrowing her brow.
"What are YOU doing here." She pointed at it, accusatorially.
The stoic statistic stalwartly stared back.
"Are you mocking me?…"
Chapter 3: Oh My God Girl, Can You Get Along With SOMEONE?
New
NotTheBaptist
Getting some practice in, huh?
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[Novice Cone Hat]: The hat of a wizard is divided into 3 segments.
The brim, which represents mystique, secrecy, the wizardly tendency to code all their notes and then die, leaving generations floundering to decode a note that turns out to have said "get milk + 3 apples on Friday." A particularly wide brim being ascribed to the most crotchety paranoid old bastards.
The cone, which represents the depth of a wizards knowledge. The origin of this interpretation is from an old children's tale, of a wizard who never took off his hat, giving flowery and silly reasons as to why, until his Party snapped and pulled his hat off, and all his smarts flew away on a breeze.
The Inner-Space of a wizards hat represents that a wizard is never truly out of tricks. That the greatest wizards hide things even under their hat. Eventually, wizards took to enchanting the insides of their hat in the same manner of endless satchels and bags of holding, to store more tricks.
As a novice's garment, this hat possesses no ceremonial brim. The wizard who settles for this hat is a wizard laid bare.
[+1 Intelligence]
[Single-Object Trick Space]
On second thought, Miera really should've kept reading past the first page of that tome. Maybe she'd know what "MM" was. Maybe she'd know how to channel magic into her staff. Needless to say, many mistakes were made.
However! Miera only needed one more challenge to level up, and that would surely change everything. Besides, it was a simple challenge.
—
There was nothing quite like pinball. The game was enticing, the sounds were perfect, the actions were heavy and satisfying, the lights were bright, the atmosphere was atmospheric. And best of all? It was cheap. Miera had two quarters ready to pop in and play, not including her new shiny one. She was working on finding a custom case for her first ever spell and would never ever spend it!
Unfortunately, she had kinda tuned out a little bit, and wasn't really thinking, when suddenly-
[Level Up!]
[You are now a: Level 2 Pinball Wizard!]
[New Skill Acquired: Inorganic Mana Conduction: Pinball Flippers]
[New Skill Acquired: Magnetic Offset]
A blast of trumpets filled the air. A wall of fanfare and music that rung through the people of the New Orville Arcade, filling them with a swell of pride in their community, nostalgia and an urge to find the lucky duck and congratulate them on their level up.
Miera was a cornered rat, she needed to get away, she needed to go to the bathroom!
"Woah, did you level up, kid?" A nearby teen on the Beat Fighter machine asked.
"No way that was her, she's way too young!" Someone else chimed in.
"I mean she's an elf! Maybe she's five hundred or somethin'!"
"Are you…stupid?"
"Well, why don't we ask 'er?!"
But she couldn't, the patrons of the arcade were swarming over her. She was being overrun!-A hand clamped down on her shoulder. The 12 year old looked up, doe-eyed, and her gaze met a towering man.
He had a short, dark crop of hair, and several scars creeping over his face, and a tight expression. His clothes looked a size too small, a toned body choked by a thin athletic shirt. But… Miera noticed other things about him. A scraggly beard, complimented by an ugly moustache. And he actually wasn't that tall compared to everyone else in the arcade, he was just closer.
He looked down at her, and winked. Putting on a smirk, taking a deep breath in.
"Aw fuck yeah, ya cunts! Guess who just levelled up, hey?" He roared, with a wide grin and a flex of his bicep. "You're lookin' at a Level 8 [Bodybuilder]!" It was a fierce expression, one that dared the crowd of mild mannered Logosians to take a good long look.
They chose not to. The crowd disbanding, and muttering about "the nerve" and other such haughty regalements. Miera smiled faintly. Her cover was intact. She wasn't a heretic in the eyes of the unwashed masses just yet…
"A'right there, love?" He lost the smirk, toning down into a small, calm, soft smile. The kind you'd use to lure a rabbit out of a hole with some lettuce.
Miera's smile instantly twisted into a sour grimace. She wasn't fragile!! She needed to say something tough, and mature. "Yes! And I was fine before you came along."
The man-boy-thing just laughed, if Miera was a foot taller, he'd have probably clapped her on the back like a construction worker.
"Haha! Well that's to be seen, you were a sitting duck out there!"
"I was NOT! I was just-I was… practicing my victory speech." She turned her head away, as if seeing him was how he was winning the argument.
"Victory speech, hey? For a level up like that?"
"Wh-yeah! It was a very important level up."
"Yeah, it was ya first one, right? A fanfare that weak, 's gotta be."
Miera scuffed her foot into the dirt. "…Well, I… well, you… you… uh…"
She paused and blinked. A weak one?
"That was a weak fanfare? It was so loud!"
His uproarious laughter was answer enough, but he continued anyway. "Yeah, that was a wimpy fanfare! Level 2. Maybe 3 if you picked a baby class, like… [salaryman], or [tax mage]."
He arched a brow at her. "What. Never seen a level up before?"
Miera sighed.
"No. You're not meant to have a class before you're sixteen."
"What?? Then why do ya get them at twelve?"
"Thats what I'M saying! The church says some stupid stuff that you gotta be sixteen or whatever."
The boy seemed not only upset by this but fundamentally repulsed. Like the notion was offensive to his worldview.
"Seriously? Fuckin' local branches are so weird…"
The confusion in his voice… could he be?
"Hey, mister… are you…"
He grinned, slyly, he was waiting for this. The kid seemed smart, he knew his gut was right, he opened his mouth in turn.
"An adventurer?-"
"Homeless?-"
The two spoke in unison. Then paused, before surging once more.
"HOMELESS?!"
"An adventurer?! You?!"
At this point, the conversation was a stand off.
"…you go first." Miera acquiesced.
"Homeless?? What about me screams homeless?"
Miera rubbed her chin, in the way her Dad does when he's thinking. "Well… your clothes look a little… tight. And your beard is scraggly. And don't adventurers wear armour, and like… a sword?"
"Hah! Maybe if they need one. You're lookin' at a Level 7 [Punch-Knight] kid."
"Woooow, only level 7, huh?" She raised her eyebrow, hands on her hips. "How old are you? Also aren't knights famous for wearing armour?"
"Fifteen. Yeeesh. They raise 'em sassy down here huh? Well either way, thanks for the quest tick, deuces, kid." He stuck his tongue out, pulled down his eyelid and walked away.
As he ran off, she only had one reaponse. "WAIT YOU'RE ONLY FIFTEEN?!"
God, what a jerk! She huffed and thought of trumpets.
[Bio] [Skills] [Journal]
Miera Sundew
[Level 2 Pinball Wizard]
Elf
MM: 2/3
M.STR: 13
M.DEF: 10
INT: 9
LCK: 7
DEX: 5
STR: 3
DEF: 2
WIS: 1
Quest to Level 3:
Keep a single pinball "alive" for a full minute.
Learn a second spell.
Perform a mana exercise intentionally, and detect the mana you draw into your body.
3 extra points. That was… good? It felt measly and unrewarding but it was only level 2. Still, it felt so piecemeal! She wanted… something more concrete, she supposed. A real marker of progress. The one silver lining was that her level up conditions were just as easy as last time. They always say the road to level 5 is basically free, unless you screw up in class selection.
…She really should've kept that book on her. What the hell was a mana exercise?
Miera looked at the top and poked the incomprehensibly coloured screen in front of her.
[Bio] [Skills] [Journal]
Miera Sundew
[Level 2 Pinball Wizard]
Elf
[Basic Mana Metabolisation]
To cast a spell, one must have mana within their body. One may get this mana from "mana exercises." Also known as breathing exercises, drinking water, exercising or eating mana-rich foods, like bananas, lettuce, peas, green beans and carrots.
This skill compensates for how much mages hate doing all of the above. Gain increased dividends from performing mana exercises and passively absorb mana from the air.
[Basic Tome Comprehension]
Every sapient being has a cap on what they can learn. That point where your eyes start glazing over the words and you've read 3 pages without taking anything in. This simply ups that cap.
[Inorganic Mana Conduction: Pinball Flippers]
Mana conducts best through living and dead foci. A staff of gnarled wood, dice of bone, tea leaves. So long as it is or once was alive, mana flows through it.
However it takes very specific inorganic materials to conduct mana. Certain metals like mythril, certain rocks like coal or graphite. Only a select few conduct mana.
This skill lets you bypass that limit. You may conduct mana through anything of any material… so long as it fits the skills specifications.
[Magnetic Offset]
By channeling mana through an object you may cause a weak magnetic attraction, or repulsion. Enough to shift grains of ferromagnetic sand or roll a ball bearing.
All of this was… actually very useful to have, wow. Only problem. She still doesn't know how to conduct mana through an object! She TRIED with her staff, that didn't work, and now she could push mana into pinball flippers? What, was she gonna summon a fireball and use it during a multiball round?!
…Actually…
Nope nevermind, saving that for another time.
At least she knew what a mana exercise was. It was just… normal exercise, apparently.
—
Murk Darway was having another fantastic day!
He closed his eyes, and thought of glory.
[Bio] [Skills] [Journal]
Murk Darway
[Level 7 Fairytale Knight]
HP: 30/30
MM: 0/1
Faith: 0/0
STR (Strength): 20
DEF (Defence): 15
CON (Construction): 12
LCK (Luck): 2
M.DEF (Magical Defence): 9
WHM (Whimsy): 5
DEX (Dexterity): 2
AFF (Affinity): 8
Quest to Level 8:
The System was kind of a dick sometimes. At least, the thing was stupid, really stupid. The thought was technically blasphemy but whatever. It was true. The system was stupid, he was just happy the menu was editable and contained a litany of different options that were an objective improvement to the base system menu and really ought to be on by default.
The system knew everything. But it was stupid. Like… the take no reward thing. What the system really meant was "take no reward offered before the errand." Because a sweet old grandma gave him a pie for cleaning her gutters and didn't take no for an answer when he tried to refuse.
That still counted, apparently. It was useful. It meant the kind of margins he could work in were a lot less tight. But it was infinitely frustrating when he figured that out eight tasks deep! He could be 3… sigh. 3 fullcoins up.
God he hated this shithole of a city, just for its monetary terminology alone. Quartercoin? Halfcoin? Fullcoin?? Fucking Orange Logos.
Bah. This was meant to be a good day. That brat in the arcade really saved his bacon! Where else was he gonna find a damsel in distress to save?
—
She was back in the building again. The public library. The Orange Logos Public Community Library was a tall bare stone building. It was clearly a refurbished old church from the shape of it. The council had done a remarkable job at disguising its shape through a series of renovations but if you knew what to look for it was very clear.
Miera came here with two goals in mind. One? To figure out mana exercises and how to channel through her staff. Two? To find and learn a new spell. Two goals, four steps. She stepped into the building.
The library was very dusty, the public access areas were not well ventilated at all and it was kinda hard to stay here for long periods of time. Of course, Miera chose to study here of all places for one reason. It wasn't the free computer access, it wasn't the Tome section, no. It was cos her friend Penny DEFINITELY has a crush on the assistant librarian and she wants more intel on that skinny, probably gay dweeb.
"Hey Marcus." She called out as she walked by. The boy turned to her and blinked. He was like… sixteen maybe? Definitely too old for Penny, but Miera supported her friend's interests.
"Oh, hey Miera." He adjusted his glasses. "Still doing that project?"
"Myep." Miera should've never said hi. She stopped moving to continue the conversation, reluctantly. "You know how school is."
"Ha, I hear that, wait till ya reach high school, kid, it gets even better." He smiled earnestly. He actually honestly believed his words. It made Miera kinda hate him.
Marcus was an outlier. Smart but not lumped in with the nerds, athletic, but not a jock, he had never experienced social or academic hardship, and spent his free time tutoring his classmates.
How did Miera know this? Because she got intel on that skinny dweeb.
"Yeah, cool, so the tome sections clear right?" Miera was trying her best not to fidget or yell or anything but this guy was capital B boring to her.
"Hah. Yeah, don't worry kiddo, you won't get found out by the school project police."
"Cool great thanks." Miera sighed internally. "Hey Marcus?"
"Hm?"
"You're gay right?"
"…What?" Marcus blinked. "No? I have a girlfriend…"
"Wh…really? Huh. Okay, thanks anyway, see ya." And Miera walked by, putting the confused Marcus out of mind.
—
In the tome section, Miera found the [Novice Tome of Minor Wizardry: Level 1] again. She opened it to the contents page. Ah! Chapter 2, foci.
'Channeling mana through a focus is simple.'
Well screw you too book!
'To channel mana through a focus, it is as simple as pushing raw, unrefined mana into it.'
Also not helpful! She sighed and flipped through the chapter, until she reached the section for staffs.
'Extend mana through your hand and out of your body, feel it flow through the channels and pores of the staff. With a staff, much like the wand, it is about controlling output to properly shape your spells. When strings of mana fill your staff, you must extrude them through the top, quicker in places and slower in others. This is the basis of staff channeling.
This was…confusingly worded. Using a focus seemed harder than using your body. With her hands, she managed to shape her mana into a spell, with a staff the only way she seemed to be able to control it was through output. Kinda like squeezing icing out of a piping bag, it was about squeezing out the right amount to make a smooth shape.
But… that seemed a lot harder than just using your hands, right? Why bother using a focus?
'Mana is contained within the body. However Mana must be mastered, it cannot be allowed to run rampant through the body, especially not in a concentrated form, lest disastrous consequences occur.'
'This is the greatest advantage a focus holds when compared to dry casting. With a foci you are letting natural "unspun" mana flow through your body and into your staff, rather than pushing, shaping and holding concentrated spells.'
'By doing the former, a mage tires out slower, their body cramps less quickly, and they can achieve the same level of mastery as barehand casters.'
"But using a staff seems so haaaaarrrrrd…." Miera closed the book and flopped down on the table.
"Magic is stuuuupid…" she whined. What Miera was expecting was for the universe to bend around her, give her a little kiss on the forehead and solve her problems for her. Y'know, like it should!
Unfortunately the universe is a cruel bastard, and when it bends around someone, its usually to get a better grip before tossing them head first into another problem.
For Miera, that came in the form of a gloomy girl in a hoodie creeping up to her table.
"wh…what did you say?…" The girl croaked. Her voice was a little wheezy, like she'd been here for so long she was as dusty as some of the books.
Miera looked at the human girl. She was gloomy looking. Miera's age, maybe a year older? She was in a hoodie and jeans with square, thick framed glasses. The one bit of colour on her was an admittedly cute pink hair clip with a flower on it.
Now… Normally Miera is socially aware enough not to bother when they're clearly getting involved in your business. She's been trained to be polite and amicable. However, she currently had a headache.
"I said magic's stupid." She repeated. "Why?"
"Its not stupid! Magic is so cool!" The girl yelped back, looking like the process of confronting someone else was making her physically ill.
"Uh-huh." Miera sighed. She really wasn't in the mood to argue. "Look I'm kind of busy right now?" She gestured at the tome.
"But… I can tell you didn't mean it." The gloombug frowned.
"…Whats your name, anyway?"
"Ivy."
"Ivy, okay, girl. I'm gonna keep it a buck with you? I don't care about magic. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be studying this lame nerd crap, I want to be playing pinball." Miera was gradually getting closer to Ivy.
"But I fucked up. Okay? I fucked up big time in the way everyone warns you not to and now I'm in a hole. And the only way out of the hole is to learn magic. So yeah. I hate magic. I hate studying. I don't want to be here, but I am."
"…Why? Why not… just be upset, if you chose a bad class-"
"-never said I did that, but okay." Miera grumbled, backing away, realising she was almost nose to nose with the other girl.
"-why are you here if you hate it? Whats keeping you from just not levelling up?"
"…Because if I do that then I'm a screw-up. A screw-up who was stupid, and not someone who made a mistake but persevered. Besides… I love pinball. Maybe half my level ups will be useless wizard crap, but the other half won't be."
Ivy rubbed her chin. She was thinking. She was really weirding Miera out. And then she snapped her fingers and smiled. "…What if I help tutor you?"
"You? Tutor me? Ha." Miera snorted, derisively. "Isn't that kinda wishful thinking?"
"Well… not really. Basic deduction tells me that A. You're new to your class." She taps the tome. "It clearly says level 1, so you're… below level 3."
"B. You're twelve. Which means you have poor impulse control since you couldn't last very long before selecting your class, and its not your parents being cool or you being anti-authority, because your parents aren't here, and your clothes look nice. But not casually nice, carefully nice, like 'Mum will kill me if I rip this skirt' nice, which means your parents care about you but you're not rich."
Miera was bubbling with anger at this point. What the hell, girl??
"And C. You like magic more than you think you do. You just don't like it when things are outside of your wheelhouse and you don't understand them yet."
None of that was true except for the objective facts!!!
Miera frowned at Ivy's smile. It was weak, a little sheepish. The smile when someone's revealing the selfish little side benefit.
"And… maybe I'll teach you to enjoy more than just the finished result of magic, y'know?"
Miera was stunned. Ivy was totally off base, and she opened her mouth to tell her as much, but before she could, Ivy leapt out of her seat, looking at her watch.
"Ah-sorry, I gotta jet! Just think about it! I'm a great tutor! I'm here Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays from 3-9, but I gotta go! Look just take a break and come back at it in a while, that helps me!" And Ivy sprinted away.
Miera sighed and slightly raised her voice. "Marcus? I'm checking books out." And she grabbed the Novice Tome, as well as a second book.
A [Novice Spell Tome: A Catalogue of Cantrips and Household Spells]
The brim, which represents mystique, secrecy, the wizardly tendency to code all their notes and then die, leaving generations floundering to decode a note that turns out to have said "get milk + 3 apples on Friday." A particularly wide brim being ascribed to the most crotchety paranoid old bastards.
The cone, which represents the depth of a wizards knowledge. The origin of this interpretation is from an old children's tale, of a wizard who never took off his hat, giving flowery and silly reasons as to why, until his Party snapped and pulled his hat off, and all his smarts flew away on a breeze.
The Inner-Space of a wizards hat represents that a wizard is never truly out of tricks. That the greatest wizards hide things even under their hat. Eventually, wizards took to enchanting the insides of their hat in the same manner of endless satchels and bags of holding, to store more tricks.
As a novice's garment, this hat possesses no ceremonial brim. The wizard who settles for this hat is a wizard laid bare.
[+1 Intelligence]
[Single-Object Trick Space]
On second thought, Miera really should've kept reading past the first page of that tome. Maybe she'd know what "MM" was. Maybe she'd know how to channel magic into her staff. Needless to say, many mistakes were made.
However! Miera only needed one more challenge to level up, and that would surely change everything. Besides, it was a simple challenge.
—
There was nothing quite like pinball. The game was enticing, the sounds were perfect, the actions were heavy and satisfying, the lights were bright, the atmosphere was atmospheric. And best of all? It was cheap. Miera had two quarters ready to pop in and play, not including her new shiny one. She was working on finding a custom case for her first ever spell and would never ever spend it!
Unfortunately, she had kinda tuned out a little bit, and wasn't really thinking, when suddenly-
[Level Up!]
[You are now a: Level 2 Pinball Wizard!]
[New Skill Acquired: Inorganic Mana Conduction: Pinball Flippers]
[New Skill Acquired: Magnetic Offset]
A blast of trumpets filled the air. A wall of fanfare and music that rung through the people of the New Orville Arcade, filling them with a swell of pride in their community, nostalgia and an urge to find the lucky duck and congratulate them on their level up.
Miera was a cornered rat, she needed to get away, she needed to go to the bathroom!
"Woah, did you level up, kid?" A nearby teen on the Beat Fighter machine asked.
"No way that was her, she's way too young!" Someone else chimed in.
"I mean she's an elf! Maybe she's five hundred or somethin'!"
"Are you…stupid?"
"Well, why don't we ask 'er?!"
But she couldn't, the patrons of the arcade were swarming over her. She was being overrun!-A hand clamped down on her shoulder. The 12 year old looked up, doe-eyed, and her gaze met a towering man.
He had a short, dark crop of hair, and several scars creeping over his face, and a tight expression. His clothes looked a size too small, a toned body choked by a thin athletic shirt. But… Miera noticed other things about him. A scraggly beard, complimented by an ugly moustache. And he actually wasn't that tall compared to everyone else in the arcade, he was just closer.
He looked down at her, and winked. Putting on a smirk, taking a deep breath in.
"Aw fuck yeah, ya cunts! Guess who just levelled up, hey?" He roared, with a wide grin and a flex of his bicep. "You're lookin' at a Level 8 [Bodybuilder]!" It was a fierce expression, one that dared the crowd of mild mannered Logosians to take a good long look.
They chose not to. The crowd disbanding, and muttering about "the nerve" and other such haughty regalements. Miera smiled faintly. Her cover was intact. She wasn't a heretic in the eyes of the unwashed masses just yet…
"A'right there, love?" He lost the smirk, toning down into a small, calm, soft smile. The kind you'd use to lure a rabbit out of a hole with some lettuce.
Miera's smile instantly twisted into a sour grimace. She wasn't fragile!! She needed to say something tough, and mature. "Yes! And I was fine before you came along."
The man-boy-thing just laughed, if Miera was a foot taller, he'd have probably clapped her on the back like a construction worker.
"Haha! Well that's to be seen, you were a sitting duck out there!"
"I was NOT! I was just-I was… practicing my victory speech." She turned her head away, as if seeing him was how he was winning the argument.
"Victory speech, hey? For a level up like that?"
"Wh-yeah! It was a very important level up."
"Yeah, it was ya first one, right? A fanfare that weak, 's gotta be."
Miera scuffed her foot into the dirt. "…Well, I… well, you… you… uh…"
She paused and blinked. A weak one?
"That was a weak fanfare? It was so loud!"
His uproarious laughter was answer enough, but he continued anyway. "Yeah, that was a wimpy fanfare! Level 2. Maybe 3 if you picked a baby class, like… [salaryman], or [tax mage]."
He arched a brow at her. "What. Never seen a level up before?"
Miera sighed.
"No. You're not meant to have a class before you're sixteen."
"What?? Then why do ya get them at twelve?"
"Thats what I'M saying! The church says some stupid stuff that you gotta be sixteen or whatever."
The boy seemed not only upset by this but fundamentally repulsed. Like the notion was offensive to his worldview.
"Seriously? Fuckin' local branches are so weird…"
The confusion in his voice… could he be?
"Hey, mister… are you…"
He grinned, slyly, he was waiting for this. The kid seemed smart, he knew his gut was right, he opened his mouth in turn.
"An adventurer?-"
"Homeless?-"
The two spoke in unison. Then paused, before surging once more.
"HOMELESS?!"
"An adventurer?! You?!"
At this point, the conversation was a stand off.
"…you go first." Miera acquiesced.
"Homeless?? What about me screams homeless?"
Miera rubbed her chin, in the way her Dad does when he's thinking. "Well… your clothes look a little… tight. And your beard is scraggly. And don't adventurers wear armour, and like… a sword?"
"Hah! Maybe if they need one. You're lookin' at a Level 7 [Punch-Knight] kid."
"Woooow, only level 7, huh?" She raised her eyebrow, hands on her hips. "How old are you? Also aren't knights famous for wearing armour?"
"Fifteen. Yeeesh. They raise 'em sassy down here huh? Well either way, thanks for the quest tick, deuces, kid." He stuck his tongue out, pulled down his eyelid and walked away.
As he ran off, she only had one reaponse. "WAIT YOU'RE ONLY FIFTEEN?!"
God, what a jerk! She huffed and thought of trumpets.
[Bio] [Skills] [Journal]
Miera Sundew
[Level 2 Pinball Wizard]
Elf
MM: 2/3
M.STR: 13
M.DEF: 10
INT: 9
LCK: 7
DEX: 5
STR: 3
DEF: 2
WIS: 1
Quest to Level 3:
Keep a single pinball "alive" for a full minute.
Learn a second spell.
Perform a mana exercise intentionally, and detect the mana you draw into your body.
3 extra points. That was… good? It felt measly and unrewarding but it was only level 2. Still, it felt so piecemeal! She wanted… something more concrete, she supposed. A real marker of progress. The one silver lining was that her level up conditions were just as easy as last time. They always say the road to level 5 is basically free, unless you screw up in class selection.
…She really should've kept that book on her. What the hell was a mana exercise?
Miera looked at the top and poked the incomprehensibly coloured screen in front of her.
[Bio] [Skills] [Journal]
Miera Sundew
[Level 2 Pinball Wizard]
Elf
[Basic Mana Metabolisation]
To cast a spell, one must have mana within their body. One may get this mana from "mana exercises." Also known as breathing exercises, drinking water, exercising or eating mana-rich foods, like bananas, lettuce, peas, green beans and carrots.
This skill compensates for how much mages hate doing all of the above. Gain increased dividends from performing mana exercises and passively absorb mana from the air.
[Basic Tome Comprehension]
Every sapient being has a cap on what they can learn. That point where your eyes start glazing over the words and you've read 3 pages without taking anything in. This simply ups that cap.
[Inorganic Mana Conduction: Pinball Flippers]
Mana conducts best through living and dead foci. A staff of gnarled wood, dice of bone, tea leaves. So long as it is or once was alive, mana flows through it.
However it takes very specific inorganic materials to conduct mana. Certain metals like mythril, certain rocks like coal or graphite. Only a select few conduct mana.
This skill lets you bypass that limit. You may conduct mana through anything of any material… so long as it fits the skills specifications.
[Magnetic Offset]
By channeling mana through an object you may cause a weak magnetic attraction, or repulsion. Enough to shift grains of ferromagnetic sand or roll a ball bearing.
All of this was… actually very useful to have, wow. Only problem. She still doesn't know how to conduct mana through an object! She TRIED with her staff, that didn't work, and now she could push mana into pinball flippers? What, was she gonna summon a fireball and use it during a multiball round?!
…Actually…
Nope nevermind, saving that for another time.
At least she knew what a mana exercise was. It was just… normal exercise, apparently.
—
Murk Darway was having another fantastic day!
He closed his eyes, and thought of glory.
[Bio] [Skills] [Journal]
Murk Darway
[Level 7 Fairytale Knight]
HP: 30/30
MM: 0/1
Faith: 0/0
STR (Strength): 20
DEF (Defence): 15
CON (Construction): 12
LCK (Luck): 2
M.DEF (Magical Defence): 9
WHM (Whimsy): 5
DEX (Dexterity): 2
AFF (Affinity): 8
Quest to Level 8:
- Save a Damsel in Distress [Complete]
- Form a Party [1/4 Members]
- Complete 10 errands and take no reward [10/10]
The System was kind of a dick sometimes. At least, the thing was stupid, really stupid. The thought was technically blasphemy but whatever. It was true. The system was stupid, he was just happy the menu was editable and contained a litany of different options that were an objective improvement to the base system menu and really ought to be on by default.
The system knew everything. But it was stupid. Like… the take no reward thing. What the system really meant was "take no reward offered before the errand." Because a sweet old grandma gave him a pie for cleaning her gutters and didn't take no for an answer when he tried to refuse.
That still counted, apparently. It was useful. It meant the kind of margins he could work in were a lot less tight. But it was infinitely frustrating when he figured that out eight tasks deep! He could be 3… sigh. 3 fullcoins up.
God he hated this shithole of a city, just for its monetary terminology alone. Quartercoin? Halfcoin? Fullcoin?? Fucking Orange Logos.
Bah. This was meant to be a good day. That brat in the arcade really saved his bacon! Where else was he gonna find a damsel in distress to save?
—
She was back in the building again. The public library. The Orange Logos Public Community Library was a tall bare stone building. It was clearly a refurbished old church from the shape of it. The council had done a remarkable job at disguising its shape through a series of renovations but if you knew what to look for it was very clear.
Miera came here with two goals in mind. One? To figure out mana exercises and how to channel through her staff. Two? To find and learn a new spell. Two goals, four steps. She stepped into the building.
The library was very dusty, the public access areas were not well ventilated at all and it was kinda hard to stay here for long periods of time. Of course, Miera chose to study here of all places for one reason. It wasn't the free computer access, it wasn't the Tome section, no. It was cos her friend Penny DEFINITELY has a crush on the assistant librarian and she wants more intel on that skinny, probably gay dweeb.
"Hey Marcus." She called out as she walked by. The boy turned to her and blinked. He was like… sixteen maybe? Definitely too old for Penny, but Miera supported her friend's interests.
"Oh, hey Miera." He adjusted his glasses. "Still doing that project?"
"Myep." Miera should've never said hi. She stopped moving to continue the conversation, reluctantly. "You know how school is."
"Ha, I hear that, wait till ya reach high school, kid, it gets even better." He smiled earnestly. He actually honestly believed his words. It made Miera kinda hate him.
Marcus was an outlier. Smart but not lumped in with the nerds, athletic, but not a jock, he had never experienced social or academic hardship, and spent his free time tutoring his classmates.
How did Miera know this? Because she got intel on that skinny dweeb.
"Yeah, cool, so the tome sections clear right?" Miera was trying her best not to fidget or yell or anything but this guy was capital B boring to her.
"Hah. Yeah, don't worry kiddo, you won't get found out by the school project police."
"Cool great thanks." Miera sighed internally. "Hey Marcus?"
"Hm?"
"You're gay right?"
"…What?" Marcus blinked. "No? I have a girlfriend…"
"Wh…really? Huh. Okay, thanks anyway, see ya." And Miera walked by, putting the confused Marcus out of mind.
—
In the tome section, Miera found the [Novice Tome of Minor Wizardry: Level 1] again. She opened it to the contents page. Ah! Chapter 2, foci.
'Channeling mana through a focus is simple.'
Well screw you too book!
'To channel mana through a focus, it is as simple as pushing raw, unrefined mana into it.'
Also not helpful! She sighed and flipped through the chapter, until she reached the section for staffs.
'Extend mana through your hand and out of your body, feel it flow through the channels and pores of the staff. With a staff, much like the wand, it is about controlling output to properly shape your spells. When strings of mana fill your staff, you must extrude them through the top, quicker in places and slower in others. This is the basis of staff channeling.
This was…confusingly worded. Using a focus seemed harder than using your body. With her hands, she managed to shape her mana into a spell, with a staff the only way she seemed to be able to control it was through output. Kinda like squeezing icing out of a piping bag, it was about squeezing out the right amount to make a smooth shape.
But… that seemed a lot harder than just using your hands, right? Why bother using a focus?
'Mana is contained within the body. However Mana must be mastered, it cannot be allowed to run rampant through the body, especially not in a concentrated form, lest disastrous consequences occur.'
'This is the greatest advantage a focus holds when compared to dry casting. With a foci you are letting natural "unspun" mana flow through your body and into your staff, rather than pushing, shaping and holding concentrated spells.'
'By doing the former, a mage tires out slower, their body cramps less quickly, and they can achieve the same level of mastery as barehand casters.'
"But using a staff seems so haaaaarrrrrd…." Miera closed the book and flopped down on the table.
"Magic is stuuuupid…" she whined. What Miera was expecting was for the universe to bend around her, give her a little kiss on the forehead and solve her problems for her. Y'know, like it should!
Unfortunately the universe is a cruel bastard, and when it bends around someone, its usually to get a better grip before tossing them head first into another problem.
For Miera, that came in the form of a gloomy girl in a hoodie creeping up to her table.
"wh…what did you say?…" The girl croaked. Her voice was a little wheezy, like she'd been here for so long she was as dusty as some of the books.
Miera looked at the human girl. She was gloomy looking. Miera's age, maybe a year older? She was in a hoodie and jeans with square, thick framed glasses. The one bit of colour on her was an admittedly cute pink hair clip with a flower on it.
Now… Normally Miera is socially aware enough not to bother when they're clearly getting involved in your business. She's been trained to be polite and amicable. However, she currently had a headache.
"I said magic's stupid." She repeated. "Why?"
"Its not stupid! Magic is so cool!" The girl yelped back, looking like the process of confronting someone else was making her physically ill.
"Uh-huh." Miera sighed. She really wasn't in the mood to argue. "Look I'm kind of busy right now?" She gestured at the tome.
"But… I can tell you didn't mean it." The gloombug frowned.
"…Whats your name, anyway?"
"Ivy."
"Ivy, okay, girl. I'm gonna keep it a buck with you? I don't care about magic. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be studying this lame nerd crap, I want to be playing pinball." Miera was gradually getting closer to Ivy.
"But I fucked up. Okay? I fucked up big time in the way everyone warns you not to and now I'm in a hole. And the only way out of the hole is to learn magic. So yeah. I hate magic. I hate studying. I don't want to be here, but I am."
"…Why? Why not… just be upset, if you chose a bad class-"
"-never said I did that, but okay." Miera grumbled, backing away, realising she was almost nose to nose with the other girl.
"-why are you here if you hate it? Whats keeping you from just not levelling up?"
"…Because if I do that then I'm a screw-up. A screw-up who was stupid, and not someone who made a mistake but persevered. Besides… I love pinball. Maybe half my level ups will be useless wizard crap, but the other half won't be."
Ivy rubbed her chin. She was thinking. She was really weirding Miera out. And then she snapped her fingers and smiled. "…What if I help tutor you?"
"You? Tutor me? Ha." Miera snorted, derisively. "Isn't that kinda wishful thinking?"
"Well… not really. Basic deduction tells me that A. You're new to your class." She taps the tome. "It clearly says level 1, so you're… below level 3."
"B. You're twelve. Which means you have poor impulse control since you couldn't last very long before selecting your class, and its not your parents being cool or you being anti-authority, because your parents aren't here, and your clothes look nice. But not casually nice, carefully nice, like 'Mum will kill me if I rip this skirt' nice, which means your parents care about you but you're not rich."
Miera was bubbling with anger at this point. What the hell, girl??
"And C. You like magic more than you think you do. You just don't like it when things are outside of your wheelhouse and you don't understand them yet."
None of that was true except for the objective facts!!!
Miera frowned at Ivy's smile. It was weak, a little sheepish. The smile when someone's revealing the selfish little side benefit.
"And… maybe I'll teach you to enjoy more than just the finished result of magic, y'know?"
Miera was stunned. Ivy was totally off base, and she opened her mouth to tell her as much, but before she could, Ivy leapt out of her seat, looking at her watch.
"Ah-sorry, I gotta jet! Just think about it! I'm a great tutor! I'm here Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays from 3-9, but I gotta go! Look just take a break and come back at it in a while, that helps me!" And Ivy sprinted away.
Miera sighed and slightly raised her voice. "Marcus? I'm checking books out." And she grabbed the Novice Tome, as well as a second book.
A [Novice Spell Tome: A Catalogue of Cantrips and Household Spells]
Chapter 4: In Which Miera Gets Called Cute. A Lot.
New
NotTheBaptist
Getting some practice in, huh?
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'It is utterly ridiculous. The system accepts anything. Absolutely anything! From [Mech-Pilot] to [Jpcfrid] to [magical-arsonist], the system does not stupulate. Well… except in one case.'
'The Telli Federation was losing their petty empirical bid. And in their haste, they attempted something that would become the one case of the system denying someone a class.'
[Class Thief]
'The poor boy was dust by the end of the fanfare.'
Miera was really mad at Ivy. Who the hell did she think she was?! Oh sure you know EEEEEEEVERYTHING about me, like HECK you do!
Yes, Miera was positively steaming at the thought of the gloomy and tall girl. But… Miera had to admit. Ivy… would be really nice to have right about now.
See, it was the day after her birthday, so Saturday, and she had been reading and rereading this tome over and over again and it just didn't make sense! This thing was meant to be level 1?!
She had already kept a single pinball alive for a minute with her second quartercoin just on the walk back from the library. It was annoying how much easier it was to do the pinball challenges than it was to do the wizard ones.
The entire book operated on completely different principles, it made tons of assumptions, the terminology it used was alien to Miera and it was just so… confusing.
Miera had tried her best, flipping straight to the "Wizard" section of the tome but it was head poundingly and maddeningly frustrating. Miera closed the book, massaged her temples and took a breath.
With the benefit of a good night's sleep, and hindsight, it was obvious. Miera needed Ivy. If she was gonna get anywhere, that nerd was a requirement. Trouble was… Ivy was inaccessible. She didn't know Ivy's schedule, didn't know where she lived, didn't get to ask for her number or anything. This meant that she'd need to get creative with her approach.
She pulled out her phone and called Penny. Penny too was a child who had selected her class the moment she could, but Penny had done it with parental approval, a ten step plan and outside the judicial space of Orange Logos.
Penny was going on 13 and was an impressive for her age Level 5 [Private Eye]. Penny had been her friend since both girls were in diapers and the pair were thick as thieves. Penny answered the phone.
"Hey Pens-"
"What did ya do?"
"Nothin'!"
"Girl, be so for real."
Miera sighed. Why did every single person she met have to think they were smarter than she was?? Worst of all, in the case of Penny and Ivy, they were probably right.
"I need help finding someone."
"Ha. Alrighty, lets see here, who do you need help finding and how fast?"
"…as fast as possible? Like… ten minutes would be best. And uh… her names Ivy?"
Penny audibly sighed. "You know I don't work for free babes. I'd love to do you a favour here, but my Class-"
"I have pertinent information regarding to Marcus."
"…Any other helpful identifiers for this Ivy girl?"
"Uh. Tall, gloomy, glasses, hangs out in the library from 3-9 on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Wears a hoodie? Maybe a year older than us?"
"Ah geez. I'll see what I can do."
And the line went dead. She smiled and started typing out her "report" to Penny.
"Definitely… gay… has a girlfriend… poor girl…"
Then, there was a knock on the door. "I've got it!!" Miera yelled, to forestall her mother's wrothful grumblings. God forbid someone knock before midday, that was a death sentence at their house. She rushed down the steps and opened the door.
"Penny!"
Miera smiled at the short halfling girl in front of her. Penny glared back and adjusted her glasses. Granted, halfling height didn't really mean anything until puberty when everyone else started growing. But Penny was short for a halfling her age.
Penny was a 13 year old trying to be very professional, which means a lot of people thought it was adorable. Especially with her big round cheeks, warm halfling features and adorably round glasses.
Not Miera. Miera knew Penny's looks were deceiving, and the girl would mercilessly abuse that fact if you let your guard down.
"Mimi. I have your information. Shall we talk in your room?" Penny smiled.
"Sounds good!" Miera stepped to the side and let Penny in.
"Also, if you're going to answer the door, don't do it in pyjamas. I could've been a solicitor."
"I don't need to be a [Genius] in order to figure out that it was you, you knock the same way every time girl. Three sharp raps. And its a Saturday and I don't need to go out so I didn't wanna bother changing!"
"Your laziness could move mountains."
"Your wit could cut rivers."
"…How long did it take you to think of that one?"
"I… actually, honestly, like I came up with it on the spot."
Penny paused for a second, looking at Miera strangely. Her gaze sharpened. "Miera… you have a class, don't you?"
Miera's breath caught. How did she know that? Its not like it mattered. She had planned to tell Penny anyway, the girl was smart and her friend, it was just shocking that she caught on so quick.
"Yeah. Yeah I do. It was… a little silly of me, but I do, yeah. I was gonna tell you, just privately, how did you work it out?"
Penny hesitated and frowned, "It… If I told you it would sound really mean."
"Don't worry, I can handle it." Miera scoffed lightly.
"You weren't that witty at school yesterday."
Oh that was like a gutpunch to Miera. She frowned and looked away. "I so was."
"Nono, see this is what I mean. You literally weren't! You took a class, the system gave you stats."
"Oh." In hindsight it was obvious that those would've done something, but she kinda vaguely assigned them as useless numbers that exist to motivate the number cruncher monkey in everyones brain. "So like… those… do stuff?…"
Penny nodded. It was always VERY easy to get her talking about classes.
"Current literature assumes that these stats act as either augments or multipliers on your existing parameters. You're as smart as you were, but with an increase based on your capital-I Intelligence stat. Which must have been quite the boost, considering how you kept up with me, and I'm an Intelligence based Class." Penny nodded in a show of… respect? Penny was kinda hard to read. "With that stellar display of intelligence, I do have to ask, who else knows?"
"My parents know!"
Penny stared at Miera on the steps witheringly.
"You selected your class at home and your mother heard, didn't she?"
"I woulda told her anyway!"
Penny stared at Mimi flatly before turning and starting to walk into Mimi's room.
"No you wouldn't have."
Miera sighed and the two girls entered her room.
"Alright well! Me first, cos I'm paying in info." Miera bowed mockingly as Penny sat down on the bottom bunk of Miera's bed.
"Yes. Go on." Penny leaned in.
"Marcus says he has a girlfriend. But… I think he's gay."
Penny flinched, frowned and wrote some stuff down, seriously. "Of course he does… I'm adjusting my rates. Information on his girlfriend is worth double."
Miera preened for a second before she blinked. "Wait you have rates?"
"Yes. You keep vastly overpaying me."
"What the hey, Penny, shouldn't you warn me if we're friends?!"
"I mean… I vastly undercharge you because you're my friend and you're paying with gossip about a boy. I think I'm being very reasonable but since you're so cute, the next ones free." Penny winked.
Mimi huffed, a little pink-eared. She was a little embarrassed. "Thanks Pens but I hate feeling like I owe ya, I'm not actually mad, I just like getting upset."
Penny quirked a smile. "My turn then?"
"Ah! Yes!" Miera sat up sharply.
"Okay, your girl; Ivy Stocklin. 13 years old, 14 in September. Fits your description, has a part time gig at the library where she does tutoring, definitely has a Class but I can't read it. Currently she's working in her Mothers tea shop as a server. Like, right now. Her shift ends at 2."
"Hm. Hm! Okay thanks Pens! Wanna come with me?"
"To the tea shop? Hm. Tempting. But first, what Class did you end up choosing?"
"Oh! I'm a Pinball Wizard."
There was a pause in the air. Penny was staring at Miera. This usually meant Mimi put her foot in her mouth. But she couldn't have! Mimi just said her class!
"…Mimi. When I told you about class construction theory, did you at all listen?"
"Ah…. No. No I didn't. I'm sorry Pens, I just-" It's hard to say 'I got distracted because when you start really getting into a topic you take over the room and its entrancing to watch.' So instead, she says. "You talk quickly and I think I was having a day, I promise I'll listen if we redo the lecture later?"
"Hah. Fine. Only when I have a whiteboard. And there'll be a test." She stood up. "Anyway. The core concept of the theory is that the system doesn't actually make a unique class for each person, but instead distributes skills and stats based on the individual words within the Class. I made my class as a contribution to the study of this theory."
"Right, right, I remember now. I still think you're insane for that, by the way. We're twelve."
"Thirteen. The terms 'Private' and 'Eye' on their own both have separate connotations of stealth, observation and understanding. However, when used as an adjective, Private also gives connotations of being a fiscal hireling."
Penny was pacing like a drill sergeant, with her arms behind her back. She was starting to get into it.
"However. A private eye is also a slang term for a private detective. I wanted to see which one the system prioritised, that way I could draw a line."
She stopped her marching, and pointed at Mimi.
"The system prioritises occupation. Then descriptive words. It never cares about slang."
Basically, Pinball Wizard was a dumb thing to pick, especially if you had gotten a lecture about how Classes work.
"I get it, I get it, I fucked up. I already knew this." Mimi sighed.
"No, you don't, Mimi-"
"Okay so i fucked up worse! Do I need to know? Would it change anything? Could it possibly change anything?"
"Well…no, but-"
"Then why do I need to know? Why do I need to know if it'll just make me sad?"
Penny was quiet for a minute. Miera knew that Pens knew she was right, but she needed to calm down before she said it. She opened her mouth and spoke in a diplomatic tone. "…That is true. I am sorry, Mimi. This is very important to me, and I am upset on your behalf. I would still like to go to that tea shop, if you are willing."
"I'd love to!" Mimi smiles.
"You're lucky you're so cute."
—
The tea house was a nice place, an unnoticable addition to the high street. The building was older and hadn't been refurbished like the other shops around it, so the one story, bare brick tea shop was slightly sunken in compared to the line of other shops around it.
It made your eyes kinda glaze past it, like you just assumed it was out of business, not because it looked dingy or delapidated but because it was… unassuming, I guess?
Either way, Miera and Penny entered the tea house. The door opened with a quiet chime, and there Ivy was.
She smiled and bowed politely. "Hello! Welcome to-Miera? And someone else?" Ivy blinked, adjusting her glasses. She was wearing a cute flower print dress with a little name tag on it.
"Thats Penny! She's my bestie. Ivy, I need so much help."
The rest of the tea shop was nice, the lights were soft and atmospheric, there was a fragrant earthy aroma in the air. It was warm, rich, inviting and nicer than its outside would have you believe.
—
Mimi was a damn fool. Introducing Pens and Ivy to eachother was possibly the stupidest thing she had ever done. This was meant to be about studying!
Okay well it still was, but Mimi was feeling left out and stupid compared to the two super geniuses.
At least they were talking about her?
"Ah, but you see, by choosing the name Pinball Wizard, the System has focused on the Wizard part, with Pinball as a descriptive element! This means she'll be getting 2 wizard skills for every 1 pinball related skill!" Penny argued, showing off a hastily doodled diagram.
"That ratio, while technically true, ignores the fact that the system prefers to grant skills that benefit both aspects of the class!" Ivy said, showing off a counter-diagram.
"But the two are so disparate that you can't reasonably assume it will be able to accomodate for Mimi!"
"If she chose Pinball Player, she'd have purely gotten skills for pinball! As a Wizard, she gets access to spells! Any spell so long as she learns it!"
"But Mimi HATES learning!"
At this point, Ivy's mother walked by. She was a chubby, tan human woman wearing a flower print apron. She cleared her throat and shot them a look and both girls dropped their tone.
"Sorry, Ma…"
"Sorry, Ivy's mother…"
Ivy turned to Miera.
"See, the barrier to entry for wizardry is not the Class. Its not the Skills. Its not even intelligence. It's training. Wizardry is its own field of study, with its own terminology and with how you are now, you're just a talented amateur. A really talented amateur, frankly." Ivy smiled at Miera sheepishly. She felt condescended to.
Miera glared at Ivy. Ivy threw her hands up.
"I'm sorry, Miera, but thats just how it is! Wizard magic is harder than other kinds, just stick to the general 'mage' category at the front, you can't just learn wizard spells. Most wizards don't bother until they're level 10. Now I gotta go, or Ma'll have me doing dishes next shift." Ivy said flippantly, before walking away to serve a different table.
Miera grumbled to herself as Ivy walked away and opened the book to page 1. She blinked. "Oh, this is way easier, hold on."
The way the tome worked was through diagram and instruction. The instructions were a taught chant, what the spell would do and sometimes, a more spiritual reading of the spell. Take the spell Miera had opened to, Aardvark Mark. (The book's alphabetical, jeez!) The spell would create a mark on an object that attracts Aardvarks. The chant was simply "Aardvark Mark, Aardvark Mark, A Dark and Stark Lark through the Park."
Whoever wrote the spell was clearly having fun, annoyingly. The little blurb of flavour text was 'I like Aardvarks.
- Misty Ander, [Zoo Witch]'
And on the other page was a piece of isometric grid paper, with a channeling image overlaid on top of it. This was the shape you were supposed to push your mana into. For Aardvark Mark, it was, obviously, a 2d outline of an Aardvark.
"This chick DIGS Aardvarks, huh." Miera mumbled. She mentally dismissed the spell. Her second spell was gonna be cooler than this. She sipped the mint tea at her side. It was nice but Mum made better.
"Okay… here! This one! 'Undo Minor Mistake'. Seems a little complex, but its easier than the easiest Wizard spell!"
The spell was in fact complex. And worse than complex, it was modular. The spells shape changed based on what was being undone, and worse than that, it needed the caster to juggle two differently shaped mana charges. One shaped like the object being undone, and another shaped like a backwards pointing arrow.
Luckily, the spell didn't have a chant.
"Y'know, Mimi, you're taking this a lot better than I thought you would." Penny said, leaning on Miera and reading the tome over her shoulder.
"Hmm? Oh, what, being a Wizard?" Mimi was quietly gathering mana in her stomach.
"Yeah, that exactly. You're like… really chill about this. I thought-I guess I thought you'd be more angry."
"Ah." Mimi shook her head, gently dropping a droplet of tea onto the tablecloth. "Yeah, I screwed up, but I wanna make the most of this class. I told Ivy the same."
Penny pursed her lips. "Hm. How did you two meet anywayyyy?" She said, in the most casual way she could think of.
"Oh, she approached me at the library cos I called magic stupid. She was upset, offered to tutor me, read my soul and made me feel dumb." The arrow was easiest, just… a long swoopy. She squirmed around, wringing her hands around an invisible curved U-Turn arrow.
"Bitch is stealing my gig…" Penny mumbled. It was clear she had come to a decision, she nods. "Okay. I don't like her."
"Eh? You two were getting on famously!" Miera said, shaping the mental tablecloth with her hands. Doing it whilst keeping hold of the other object was… tricky…
"No, we were arguing angrily in an embarrassing way in public." Penny shook her head.
There was something familiar about this. Oh. Oh!! It was like when Penny and Marcus met for the first time. Same reaction! That must mean!-Mimi lost concentration over her mana, as she outburst. "You have a crush on Ivy!"
All the resentment Miera was festering in her heart for Ivy faded. She needed to support Penny's interests! Pens was clearly so surprised that Miera caught on that she just stared at Mimi for a moment. She shook her head and spoke up.
"Wh-no! Where'd you pull that one from?!"
"You dooooo!~ oooooh, you moved on fast after learning Marcus was unavailable, huh? Good news is, Ivy's more attainable! She's a nerd and wears a hoodie and has glasses! Especially when compared to Marcus, I mean whoof! He actually works out and stuff. Also he's way too old for you. Oh! I've got this. I know exactly what I could do!"
"Don't do a stupid, hare brained and embarrassing scheme please-"
Miera quickly pushed the mana constructs out of her body as she walked over to Ivy.
"Ivy! Sleepover! Tomorrow!"
"…Wh-where?"
Miera stumbled. "Uh… not mine… Penny?-"
"No." She folded her arms, back at the table shooting Mimi her most withering glare.
"…yours?" Mimi asked, turning to Ivy.
Ivy blinks and grins. "O-okay! I'll ask my ma?"
"Great!"
Penny sighed, deeply frustrated. God was Mimi lucky she was cute. But then her eyes caught the cloth.
Miera walked back. "We're all good for tomorrow! Good news right? Ah crap, I need to redo that whole thing, now."
"I wouldn't be so sure." She tapped the cloth with a nail.
And it was pristine.
"Huh. How about that?" She grinned. That was two challenges done. Just one more to level three.
'The Telli Federation was losing their petty empirical bid. And in their haste, they attempted something that would become the one case of the system denying someone a class.'
[Class Thief]
'The poor boy was dust by the end of the fanfare.'
- An exerpt from Class Selection and its Propriety: A Treatise on the ethical application of systemic magic.
Miera was really mad at Ivy. Who the hell did she think she was?! Oh sure you know EEEEEEEVERYTHING about me, like HECK you do!
Yes, Miera was positively steaming at the thought of the gloomy and tall girl. But… Miera had to admit. Ivy… would be really nice to have right about now.
See, it was the day after her birthday, so Saturday, and she had been reading and rereading this tome over and over again and it just didn't make sense! This thing was meant to be level 1?!
She had already kept a single pinball alive for a minute with her second quartercoin just on the walk back from the library. It was annoying how much easier it was to do the pinball challenges than it was to do the wizard ones.
The entire book operated on completely different principles, it made tons of assumptions, the terminology it used was alien to Miera and it was just so… confusing.
Miera had tried her best, flipping straight to the "Wizard" section of the tome but it was head poundingly and maddeningly frustrating. Miera closed the book, massaged her temples and took a breath.
With the benefit of a good night's sleep, and hindsight, it was obvious. Miera needed Ivy. If she was gonna get anywhere, that nerd was a requirement. Trouble was… Ivy was inaccessible. She didn't know Ivy's schedule, didn't know where she lived, didn't get to ask for her number or anything. This meant that she'd need to get creative with her approach.
She pulled out her phone and called Penny. Penny too was a child who had selected her class the moment she could, but Penny had done it with parental approval, a ten step plan and outside the judicial space of Orange Logos.
Penny was going on 13 and was an impressive for her age Level 5 [Private Eye]. Penny had been her friend since both girls were in diapers and the pair were thick as thieves. Penny answered the phone.
"Hey Pens-"
"What did ya do?"
"Nothin'!"
"Girl, be so for real."
Miera sighed. Why did every single person she met have to think they were smarter than she was?? Worst of all, in the case of Penny and Ivy, they were probably right.
"I need help finding someone."
"Ha. Alrighty, lets see here, who do you need help finding and how fast?"
"…as fast as possible? Like… ten minutes would be best. And uh… her names Ivy?"
Penny audibly sighed. "You know I don't work for free babes. I'd love to do you a favour here, but my Class-"
"I have pertinent information regarding to Marcus."
"…Any other helpful identifiers for this Ivy girl?"
"Uh. Tall, gloomy, glasses, hangs out in the library from 3-9 on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. Wears a hoodie? Maybe a year older than us?"
"Ah geez. I'll see what I can do."
And the line went dead. She smiled and started typing out her "report" to Penny.
"Definitely… gay… has a girlfriend… poor girl…"
Then, there was a knock on the door. "I've got it!!" Miera yelled, to forestall her mother's wrothful grumblings. God forbid someone knock before midday, that was a death sentence at their house. She rushed down the steps and opened the door.
"Penny!"
Miera smiled at the short halfling girl in front of her. Penny glared back and adjusted her glasses. Granted, halfling height didn't really mean anything until puberty when everyone else started growing. But Penny was short for a halfling her age.
Penny was a 13 year old trying to be very professional, which means a lot of people thought it was adorable. Especially with her big round cheeks, warm halfling features and adorably round glasses.
Not Miera. Miera knew Penny's looks were deceiving, and the girl would mercilessly abuse that fact if you let your guard down.
"Mimi. I have your information. Shall we talk in your room?" Penny smiled.
"Sounds good!" Miera stepped to the side and let Penny in.
"Also, if you're going to answer the door, don't do it in pyjamas. I could've been a solicitor."
"I don't need to be a [Genius] in order to figure out that it was you, you knock the same way every time girl. Three sharp raps. And its a Saturday and I don't need to go out so I didn't wanna bother changing!"
"Your laziness could move mountains."
"Your wit could cut rivers."
"…How long did it take you to think of that one?"
"I… actually, honestly, like I came up with it on the spot."
Penny paused for a second, looking at Miera strangely. Her gaze sharpened. "Miera… you have a class, don't you?"
Miera's breath caught. How did she know that? Its not like it mattered. She had planned to tell Penny anyway, the girl was smart and her friend, it was just shocking that she caught on so quick.
"Yeah. Yeah I do. It was… a little silly of me, but I do, yeah. I was gonna tell you, just privately, how did you work it out?"
Penny hesitated and frowned, "It… If I told you it would sound really mean."
"Don't worry, I can handle it." Miera scoffed lightly.
"You weren't that witty at school yesterday."
Oh that was like a gutpunch to Miera. She frowned and looked away. "I so was."
"Nono, see this is what I mean. You literally weren't! You took a class, the system gave you stats."
"Oh." In hindsight it was obvious that those would've done something, but she kinda vaguely assigned them as useless numbers that exist to motivate the number cruncher monkey in everyones brain. "So like… those… do stuff?…"
Penny nodded. It was always VERY easy to get her talking about classes.
"Current literature assumes that these stats act as either augments or multipliers on your existing parameters. You're as smart as you were, but with an increase based on your capital-I Intelligence stat. Which must have been quite the boost, considering how you kept up with me, and I'm an Intelligence based Class." Penny nodded in a show of… respect? Penny was kinda hard to read. "With that stellar display of intelligence, I do have to ask, who else knows?"
"My parents know!"
Penny stared at Miera on the steps witheringly.
"You selected your class at home and your mother heard, didn't she?"
"I woulda told her anyway!"
Penny stared at Mimi flatly before turning and starting to walk into Mimi's room.
"No you wouldn't have."
Miera sighed and the two girls entered her room.
"Alright well! Me first, cos I'm paying in info." Miera bowed mockingly as Penny sat down on the bottom bunk of Miera's bed.
"Yes. Go on." Penny leaned in.
"Marcus says he has a girlfriend. But… I think he's gay."
Penny flinched, frowned and wrote some stuff down, seriously. "Of course he does… I'm adjusting my rates. Information on his girlfriend is worth double."
Miera preened for a second before she blinked. "Wait you have rates?"
"Yes. You keep vastly overpaying me."
"What the hey, Penny, shouldn't you warn me if we're friends?!"
"I mean… I vastly undercharge you because you're my friend and you're paying with gossip about a boy. I think I'm being very reasonable but since you're so cute, the next ones free." Penny winked.
Mimi huffed, a little pink-eared. She was a little embarrassed. "Thanks Pens but I hate feeling like I owe ya, I'm not actually mad, I just like getting upset."
Penny quirked a smile. "My turn then?"
"Ah! Yes!" Miera sat up sharply.
"Okay, your girl; Ivy Stocklin. 13 years old, 14 in September. Fits your description, has a part time gig at the library where she does tutoring, definitely has a Class but I can't read it. Currently she's working in her Mothers tea shop as a server. Like, right now. Her shift ends at 2."
"Hm. Hm! Okay thanks Pens! Wanna come with me?"
"To the tea shop? Hm. Tempting. But first, what Class did you end up choosing?"
"Oh! I'm a Pinball Wizard."
There was a pause in the air. Penny was staring at Miera. This usually meant Mimi put her foot in her mouth. But she couldn't have! Mimi just said her class!
"…Mimi. When I told you about class construction theory, did you at all listen?"
"Ah…. No. No I didn't. I'm sorry Pens, I just-" It's hard to say 'I got distracted because when you start really getting into a topic you take over the room and its entrancing to watch.' So instead, she says. "You talk quickly and I think I was having a day, I promise I'll listen if we redo the lecture later?"
"Hah. Fine. Only when I have a whiteboard. And there'll be a test." She stood up. "Anyway. The core concept of the theory is that the system doesn't actually make a unique class for each person, but instead distributes skills and stats based on the individual words within the Class. I made my class as a contribution to the study of this theory."
"Right, right, I remember now. I still think you're insane for that, by the way. We're twelve."
"Thirteen. The terms 'Private' and 'Eye' on their own both have separate connotations of stealth, observation and understanding. However, when used as an adjective, Private also gives connotations of being a fiscal hireling."
Penny was pacing like a drill sergeant, with her arms behind her back. She was starting to get into it.
"However. A private eye is also a slang term for a private detective. I wanted to see which one the system prioritised, that way I could draw a line."
She stopped her marching, and pointed at Mimi.
"The system prioritises occupation. Then descriptive words. It never cares about slang."
Basically, Pinball Wizard was a dumb thing to pick, especially if you had gotten a lecture about how Classes work.
"I get it, I get it, I fucked up. I already knew this." Mimi sighed.
"No, you don't, Mimi-"
"Okay so i fucked up worse! Do I need to know? Would it change anything? Could it possibly change anything?"
"Well…no, but-"
"Then why do I need to know? Why do I need to know if it'll just make me sad?"
Penny was quiet for a minute. Miera knew that Pens knew she was right, but she needed to calm down before she said it. She opened her mouth and spoke in a diplomatic tone. "…That is true. I am sorry, Mimi. This is very important to me, and I am upset on your behalf. I would still like to go to that tea shop, if you are willing."
"I'd love to!" Mimi smiles.
"You're lucky you're so cute."
—
The tea house was a nice place, an unnoticable addition to the high street. The building was older and hadn't been refurbished like the other shops around it, so the one story, bare brick tea shop was slightly sunken in compared to the line of other shops around it.
It made your eyes kinda glaze past it, like you just assumed it was out of business, not because it looked dingy or delapidated but because it was… unassuming, I guess?
Either way, Miera and Penny entered the tea house. The door opened with a quiet chime, and there Ivy was.
She smiled and bowed politely. "Hello! Welcome to-Miera? And someone else?" Ivy blinked, adjusting her glasses. She was wearing a cute flower print dress with a little name tag on it.
"Thats Penny! She's my bestie. Ivy, I need so much help."
The rest of the tea shop was nice, the lights were soft and atmospheric, there was a fragrant earthy aroma in the air. It was warm, rich, inviting and nicer than its outside would have you believe.
—
Mimi was a damn fool. Introducing Pens and Ivy to eachother was possibly the stupidest thing she had ever done. This was meant to be about studying!
Okay well it still was, but Mimi was feeling left out and stupid compared to the two super geniuses.
At least they were talking about her?
"Ah, but you see, by choosing the name Pinball Wizard, the System has focused on the Wizard part, with Pinball as a descriptive element! This means she'll be getting 2 wizard skills for every 1 pinball related skill!" Penny argued, showing off a hastily doodled diagram.
"That ratio, while technically true, ignores the fact that the system prefers to grant skills that benefit both aspects of the class!" Ivy said, showing off a counter-diagram.
"But the two are so disparate that you can't reasonably assume it will be able to accomodate for Mimi!"
"If she chose Pinball Player, she'd have purely gotten skills for pinball! As a Wizard, she gets access to spells! Any spell so long as she learns it!"
"But Mimi HATES learning!"
At this point, Ivy's mother walked by. She was a chubby, tan human woman wearing a flower print apron. She cleared her throat and shot them a look and both girls dropped their tone.
"Sorry, Ma…"
"Sorry, Ivy's mother…"
Ivy turned to Miera.
"See, the barrier to entry for wizardry is not the Class. Its not the Skills. Its not even intelligence. It's training. Wizardry is its own field of study, with its own terminology and with how you are now, you're just a talented amateur. A really talented amateur, frankly." Ivy smiled at Miera sheepishly. She felt condescended to.
Miera glared at Ivy. Ivy threw her hands up.
"I'm sorry, Miera, but thats just how it is! Wizard magic is harder than other kinds, just stick to the general 'mage' category at the front, you can't just learn wizard spells. Most wizards don't bother until they're level 10. Now I gotta go, or Ma'll have me doing dishes next shift." Ivy said flippantly, before walking away to serve a different table.
Miera grumbled to herself as Ivy walked away and opened the book to page 1. She blinked. "Oh, this is way easier, hold on."
The way the tome worked was through diagram and instruction. The instructions were a taught chant, what the spell would do and sometimes, a more spiritual reading of the spell. Take the spell Miera had opened to, Aardvark Mark. (The book's alphabetical, jeez!) The spell would create a mark on an object that attracts Aardvarks. The chant was simply "Aardvark Mark, Aardvark Mark, A Dark and Stark Lark through the Park."
Whoever wrote the spell was clearly having fun, annoyingly. The little blurb of flavour text was 'I like Aardvarks.
- Misty Ander, [Zoo Witch]'And on the other page was a piece of isometric grid paper, with a channeling image overlaid on top of it. This was the shape you were supposed to push your mana into. For Aardvark Mark, it was, obviously, a 2d outline of an Aardvark.
"This chick DIGS Aardvarks, huh." Miera mumbled. She mentally dismissed the spell. Her second spell was gonna be cooler than this. She sipped the mint tea at her side. It was nice but Mum made better.
"Okay… here! This one! 'Undo Minor Mistake'. Seems a little complex, but its easier than the easiest Wizard spell!"
The spell was in fact complex. And worse than complex, it was modular. The spells shape changed based on what was being undone, and worse than that, it needed the caster to juggle two differently shaped mana charges. One shaped like the object being undone, and another shaped like a backwards pointing arrow.
Luckily, the spell didn't have a chant.
"Y'know, Mimi, you're taking this a lot better than I thought you would." Penny said, leaning on Miera and reading the tome over her shoulder.
"Hmm? Oh, what, being a Wizard?" Mimi was quietly gathering mana in her stomach.
"Yeah, that exactly. You're like… really chill about this. I thought-I guess I thought you'd be more angry."
"Ah." Mimi shook her head, gently dropping a droplet of tea onto the tablecloth. "Yeah, I screwed up, but I wanna make the most of this class. I told Ivy the same."
Penny pursed her lips. "Hm. How did you two meet anywayyyy?" She said, in the most casual way she could think of.
"Oh, she approached me at the library cos I called magic stupid. She was upset, offered to tutor me, read my soul and made me feel dumb." The arrow was easiest, just… a long swoopy. She squirmed around, wringing her hands around an invisible curved U-Turn arrow.
"Bitch is stealing my gig…" Penny mumbled. It was clear she had come to a decision, she nods. "Okay. I don't like her."
"Eh? You two were getting on famously!" Miera said, shaping the mental tablecloth with her hands. Doing it whilst keeping hold of the other object was… tricky…
"No, we were arguing angrily in an embarrassing way in public." Penny shook her head.
There was something familiar about this. Oh. Oh!! It was like when Penny and Marcus met for the first time. Same reaction! That must mean!-Mimi lost concentration over her mana, as she outburst. "You have a crush on Ivy!"
All the resentment Miera was festering in her heart for Ivy faded. She needed to support Penny's interests! Pens was clearly so surprised that Miera caught on that she just stared at Mimi for a moment. She shook her head and spoke up.
"Wh-no! Where'd you pull that one from?!"
"You dooooo!~ oooooh, you moved on fast after learning Marcus was unavailable, huh? Good news is, Ivy's more attainable! She's a nerd and wears a hoodie and has glasses! Especially when compared to Marcus, I mean whoof! He actually works out and stuff. Also he's way too old for you. Oh! I've got this. I know exactly what I could do!"
"Don't do a stupid, hare brained and embarrassing scheme please-"
Miera quickly pushed the mana constructs out of her body as she walked over to Ivy.
"Ivy! Sleepover! Tomorrow!"
"…Wh-where?"
Miera stumbled. "Uh… not mine… Penny?-"
"No." She folded her arms, back at the table shooting Mimi her most withering glare.
"…yours?" Mimi asked, turning to Ivy.
Ivy blinks and grins. "O-okay! I'll ask my ma?"
"Great!"
Penny sighed, deeply frustrated. God was Mimi lucky she was cute. But then her eyes caught the cloth.
Miera walked back. "We're all good for tomorrow! Good news right? Ah crap, I need to redo that whole thing, now."
"I wouldn't be so sure." She tapped the cloth with a nail.
And it was pristine.
"Huh. How about that?" She grinned. That was two challenges done. Just one more to level three.
Chapter 5: The Church LOVES Money!
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NotTheBaptist
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Liber Dominicus was one of the first Systemophilisophical works written and many of its findings are still considered relevant today. However with the advent of modern science and the many discoveries made by the Blue Clarity Institute, we have made massive strides in the study of the system, and Classes. Liber Dominicus opines that 12 is the most theologically significant number. By applying Statistic Theory, this book attempts to challenge this notion, instead believing that the number 4 is the base theological number.
There are 12 potential statistics the System can grant. 8 are granted in total. 4 base statistics, and 4 auxiliary ones. The 4 base statistics being Strength, Defence, Dexterity and Magical Defence. These are considered inherent of anybody and are present even within non-systemic animals.
The remaining 8 statistics are auxiliary, and are typically informed by class selection.
Whimsy
Intelligence
Wisdom
Construction
Magical Strength
Luck
Affinity
Cunning
Of course, the 8 auxiliary statistics do not mean that someone who does not have them cannot be them. Someone without Intelligence is not necessarily unintelligent. It simply means that their current intelligence will never grow through systemic means.
-Statistic Theory and it's Theological Application
Cadigan was having a good day. He was brewing some tea. Not in the way his wife did. This was a different ritual. Finni took an hour making tea because it soothed her, and reminded her of her culture. Cadigan spent an hour making tea because he couldn't make this type of tea any faster. He set two mugs down in his office, both on coasters of course, one to the right of his big comfy chair, and the other to the right of the less comfy guest chair, where Miera sat.
"And this'll count as a mana exercise?"
"Sure will, kiddo." Cadigan smiled.
"So… is that why you keep Minty?" She gestured to the cat on the windowsill.
The cat was a deep earthy brown, although you couldn't tell that by looking at her.
See, Minty was a dirtcat. A breed of cat that was crossbred with dirt ages ago. Dirtcats were even lazier than normal cats, shed fur that crumbled into dirt-like particles and grew flora on their bodies. Dirtcats were playful, lazy, didn't need feeding, didn't expel waste and were considered better for plants than plant pots. Overall, if you didn't mind the worse shedding, they were lovely low maintenance exotic pets.
Not to mention the agricultural benefits.
You see, seeds sown on dirtcats thrive. Some sort of mysterious nature magic inherent to their construction means that they grow fast, healthy and typically pest free. This leads to most domestic dirtcats being almost like pet chickens. Loved absolutely, but also had the habit of partially subsidising their own cost.
Not in the case of Minty.
Trouble came when Minty as a kitten rolled around in a patch of mint. And mint did what mint does best when presented with perfect soil conditions.
Cadigan had adopted the thing as a kitten, presumably some weeks after the event, and had kept the patch of mint from overgrowing the cat ever since.
"Oh? No, I keep Minty around cos she's a cutie." He smiled affectionately, rubbing the cat under the chin.
Minty affectionately nuzzled into his hand, but moved no further, as if removing herself from her sunbeam would physically hurt her.
Miera shrugged and gently blew on the mana-rich mint tea.
"Okay, Mimi, when you take a sip, I want you to close your eyes and focus on that warmth. Feel it travel down your throat… pool in your stomach, and then… suck it inside you!"
Miera nodded, sipping the tea. She closed her eyes…. She felt it. The warmth. It was travelling down her throat… pooling in her stomach…
Wait.
Wait, suck it inside how? She felt that warmth, that heat growing inside her. It was starting to turn into a burn. She was panicking. She opened her mouth to talk. "Blrbl."
And a single oil slick rainbow coloured bubble slipped out of her mouth.
Cadigan startled a laugh. "M-Mimi??"
"What the heck was that?!" She was rubbing her throat. It stung a little.
"Um… I think you failed to integrate the mana into yourself."
"Yeah, I was trying to ask! How do I do that??"
Cadigan blinked. "How?" Cadigan… didn't know how to answer her, you just suck it in. "Um-well…you just kinda do it? I'm sorry baby, but this isn't the kinda thing I figured people have trouble with!" He laughed awkwardly, before turning to the shitty desktop computer precariously balanced on the right side of his desk.
The cream coloured CRT behemoth and big clacky keyboard hissed at him as he slowly whirred it to life with a proud smile.
Miera groaned. He loved that stupid thing. "Daaaad, you know the intranet here sucks…"
"Well. It was very good in Grey Dominion dear. Plus the computers were quicker… thinner… better built… why did I move again?" He chuckled, softly, waiting for the webpage to load. Verrrrry slowly.
"Cos a fortune teller told you you'd find happiness here…" Miera rolled her eyes. It was a sweet story. Though it was one she'd heard a million times beforel
Cadigan adjusted his glasses and leaned into the computer screen. "And she was right! Alright, lets see here… Having trouble with-nope. Nope. Not that…" every webpage took maybe a minute to load, and another minute to load back to the search result menu.
Miera snapped. "Oh my god Dad just use your phone!!"
"No, it'd still be slow." Cadigan said, sloooooowly dragging the ball mouse over to page two.
"It would be quicker! Why do we even HAVE this piece of garbage computer, we have phones that are better and smaller than it!"
"Now dear, we couldn't always afford to import from Dominion. We should remember to be grateful for what we have."
"We should be grateful by using the better stuff." she mumbled sullenly.
"Hmm… okay, I think I see whats wrong here!"
"Ahem!" He cleared his throat and started reading off the webpage. "So, you've been casting spells. How."
"I…. Move the mana into my hands and… shape it."
He clicked onto that box, and read the next question.
"Do you use your hands to shape it?"
"Yes? What else would you use?"
"Well, this says most people just move the mana inside them itself. As opposed to using their bodies to move it around like you are. Its… a developmental delay that means intentionally doing mana exercises is gonna be hard for you, kiddo. No easy tea for you, you're gonna have to do exercises!"
Miera groaned.
—
Miera was having a horrible day.
"Lift! Lift!!! You got this!!" Cadigan cheered to Miera.
Miera was trying to do sit-ups. She thought it would be easy! She sits up all the time. Apparently, the right way to sit up was the wrong way to do an exercise called the sit up, who knew? After 6 of the infernal things, she felt… like she was gonna throw up. But-not throw up, like how people normally do, like… throw up with magic. Like that little… flower in her stomach that she opened to cast spells was gonna burst.
She finished the 10th sit up and flopped limp on their garage floor.
Cadigan clapped energetically on the exercise bike. "Woo!! Great job sweetie! Okay, next step is to try and open your mana reserves."
It wasn't hard actually. The thing was actually half undone already, and as it bloomed in her stomach mana rushed through her body. It was like the exercise was building pressure in that organ and this was the release.
It was… relaxing. She still wasn't moving it on her own, but the thin strands were working through her body and slowly dissolving. It was… meditative. Relaxing. You could get lost in the natural flow and curl of mana…
And then came the fanfare.
[Level Up!]
[You are now a: Level 3 Pinball Wizard!]
[New Skill: Conjure Bumper]
—
Finniera was having a great day! Mimi was taking her new class seriously, their returns had come in and she had actually finally managed to schedule an evening off work and best of all, Miera was having a sleepover with her new friend, meaning Finni was going to have a lovely meal with her husband.
Yes indeed, Finny was having a wonderful day! She had a delightful cup of tea and -quite scandalously- four biscuits. Yes! Yes she truly was spoiling herself!~
She carefully dipped the biscuit in the tea… slowly raised it to her lips, and-Of course, it was precisely at that moment when someone knocked on the door.
"Confounding-who calls at this hour?!" Notably, it was 11 AM. "Ruddy blasted door-to-door salesmen, I ought to give them a piece of my mind…"
She set the biscuit down, calmly stood up, dusted herself free of crumbs, lightly dusted herself in glitter in the process and very slowly and spitefully walked to the door. She cracked the door open.
Oh. Oh it was worse than she thought!
She swung the door wide with a polite smile on her face.
"Brother Micah! Sister Elise!" It was the church. "What a pleasure, AND a surprise!" The fake smile plastered on her face probably didn't fool the two churchpeople but she was doing it for herself. [Show No Weakness: Social] was carrying all the weight right now.
As is, it simply seemed like she was pretending not to know anything out of politeness. Unfortunately, she really didn't know why they were here!
"Hello!~" Micah smiled. He was a gray haired, bearded Gnome with spectacles, robes and a little staff.
Elise was a much younger orcish woman, barely 17. But was similarly clad, even with tiny spectacles. The only difference in equipment was that she had a scepter and book, instead of a staff. Elise nodded politely.
"Mrs. Sundew."
"Come on in, may I offer you some tea?" She stepped to the side politely. Yes. Enter my domain. Accept my hospitality and I will crush you under the weight of ruining my morning….
"Oh that would be lovely, thank you!" Micah smiled.
YES!
—
5 minutes later, the three were sat down, teacups in hand with small plates of decadent confectionary.
"Oh my, that was quite fast!" Micah said, happily.
It took all the willpower Finniera had not to smirk in won confidence. "Yes it was awfully fast, wasn't it?" Ohohoho~ Finni you sly devil, you~
"This tea is delicious." Elise complimented her with a small smile.
Ha! False compliments. The suckers gambit. That tea is understeeped garbage! And the snacks… oh they seemed decadent, fit for a prince! But they were childrens snacks. This was an old power play, The Elvish Snub.
By taking the biscuits you admit your lack of sophistication, by resorting to a childs snack! But not taking the confectionary too was a mistake! Its impolite. The correct move was to grab the carefully hidden, austere wafers as effortlessly as you can and eat those.
Naturally, this move played out flawlessly. Both Micah and Elise greedily grabbing for the snacks they kept for Miera's baby cousins. What fools!
"Thank you, Elise! And how are you settling into the church?"
"Its been a good year. Level 13 now."
"Oh thats so fast! My, you must be positively delighted!" She clapped her hands together.
"Yes, I'm thrilled." Elise said, expression not changing. "However it seems the System has thrown me a new test."
"Oh?"
"Myeah." She sighed. "To level up next, its makin' me go on an adventure."
"Ahh. I understand, that must be such trouble! I understand that the church struggles to send its children on pilgrimage?" She turned to Micah, oozing with faux-concern.
"Oh yes!" Micah nods, still smiling. "Poor Elise will most likely have to join an adventuring party and follow wheresoever they go, the poor dear is just terrified, weren't you, Elise?"
"Yes. I was so frightened that I screamed." Elise said, flatly.
Micah sighed and rubbed her arm. "Poor dear. Well she'll hopefully work uo the nerve to go on her way. But for now, I must confess, this isn't just a social call." He shook his head.
Yeah, no shit.
"Oh, truly? What could you want with us?"
"Well… unfortunately, we have received credible reports that your daughter has… well… chosen her class."
"Ah. So you're here to?…"
"Simply confirm the report! Elise here has been granted the [Administrator: Check] skill! And with that, well, Elise can check up on if she has a class or not."
"And what if she does?"
"Well… thats sort of tricky, I'm afraid. We can't just let you go, that sets an awful precedent! But… we try to work out reasonable fines that don't make you destitute, but we need to be clear that this is a very bad thing indeed! So… how much are you able to pay? The legal maximum fine is 500 fullcoins."
Now… this was a genuine, nice gesture. This was the church making a compromise between principle and people. It was them attempting to be fair to both the parents and the child.
But to Finniera Sundew this didn't feel like a conversation.
To Finniera Sundew, this felt like pity. Unearned pity. Was she NOT a woman of means?! Did they not see her house, her finery, her clothes?? She wanted to growl. She wanted to gnash her teeth and curse their names. She calmly sipped from her tea. She needed to make a statement.
"500 fullcoins is acceptable." She said calmly.
"Well lets not get hasty, here! We still need to do the test!"
"Ah, of course." She chuckled. "Yes, I'll get her down, shouldn't be a minute."
—
Miera was pacing in her room. She held a pointer stick in hand behind her back.
"Alright troops… we have a mission today. We're going to Ivy's house. For a sleepover! This is recon! A scouting mission, ladies! We need to get DIRT on her! And learn a second spell."
Also, she maybe wanted Ivy and Penny to kiss but that was neither here nor there!!
The ensemble of soft toys said nothing back.
"However! This is not just any sleepover. This is Ivy's first sleepover. This means we need someone inoffensive. Cute. Soft. Cuddly." She turned on her heel and, in a flash, thrust the pointer stick out at a round cat plush with pokey ears and a little :3 face.
"Can YOU keep your cool behind enemy lines?!"
It :3'd back impassively.
"I thought not. Well theres nothing for it. Time to get Miss Hoppy outta retirement."
The plushies sat there, lined up. She turned to face one with a gimlet eye. A small pocket sized green dragon with a felt gout of flame belching from its cloth mouth. Clearly, it said something in whatever vapid imaginings she was performing.
"Oh? Suicide mission? You make me laugh. For you maybe. For any of you louts! But Hoppy's the best we got. And maybe she'll finally get that farm…" She squinted off into the distance.
Miera clambered onto the top bunk, grabbed a certain brown furred bunny plush sat atop her pillow and packed her into her overnight bag with a cheerful grin, dispelling the make-believe war prep.
"Thats that then! Alright, we need to make this the best sleepover/study session there's ever been, there's so much riding on this!!"
"Who're you talking to?" Finniera stared at the carnival before her.
"AH! Oh, heyyyy Muuuummmm…. Whats up, whats the haps, how ya doiiiin'?"
"The church wants to see you."
Really, climbing up that tree was just the smartest thing she could do.
—
"Young lady, come down from that tree." Finniera said in her sternest voice.
"No! I'm a criminal! The fuzz won't take me alive!"
"They just want to talk, Mimi-"
"Thats what they always say!"
Finniera was having a day. "Young lady… fine."
She turned to Elise.
"Can you do it from here?"
"I should be able to. The tree really doesn't help her at all."
"[Administrator: Check]"
A smell of dust filled the air, screeching, high pitched beeps and squeaks as a piece of paper slowly jettisoned out of a glowing, golden port in the air.
"What did you do?" Miera patted herself down, quietly, nervously. The Skill didn't feel good, it felt like someone was painlessly extruding her through a thin metal slit.
"How… long does that take?" Finniera pointed at it slowly ejecting from the air.
"A while." Elise sighed, both people seemingly ignoring Miera. "It's really loud. I'm sorry."
"Hey! Hey!! Whatever you're doing, QUIT IT!" Miera yelled, starting to climb down the tree.
And eventually, the long reel of punched paper slowly drifted down into Elise's hands. She carefully handled it, squinting at the words the printed dots formed.
"Hm. Well, she has a class alright. But, I gotta say, thats a new one."
Miera's eyes widened. She wasn't ready. She wanted to work hard, and show how much she really cared about this before she told her parents what it was. "Do we have to reveal it??"
Elise blinked. "Um… legally your mother has a right to know what your class is."
Miera turned to Finniera, the most droopy eared begging expression on her face. Finni's heart melted slightly, but she held strong.
"Mimi… whatever Class you chose that you're so embarrassed about… you've been working very hard. You've been trying to learn and I've never seen you so passionate! Well, about anything but that silly game." She chuckled, not noticing as Miera tensed up. "But you're better than that now! So I'm sure you can-"
And Miera ran away. Not away away, just… she ran into the house, and into her room.
Finniera sighed. "I hope she's alright. Well then, whats the damage?"
"I wouldn't say damage." Elise hums. "Your kids been busy! Level 3 'Pinball Wizard.'"
"…Oh fuck me. Okay just go away." Finniera waved her hand. "We'll pay it, just go. I need to apologise to my daughter."
And that she did.
There are 12 potential statistics the System can grant. 8 are granted in total. 4 base statistics, and 4 auxiliary ones. The 4 base statistics being Strength, Defence, Dexterity and Magical Defence. These are considered inherent of anybody and are present even within non-systemic animals.
The remaining 8 statistics are auxiliary, and are typically informed by class selection.
Whimsy
Intelligence
Wisdom
Construction
Magical Strength
Luck
Affinity
Cunning
Of course, the 8 auxiliary statistics do not mean that someone who does not have them cannot be them. Someone without Intelligence is not necessarily unintelligent. It simply means that their current intelligence will never grow through systemic means.
-Statistic Theory and it's Theological Application
Cadigan was having a good day. He was brewing some tea. Not in the way his wife did. This was a different ritual. Finni took an hour making tea because it soothed her, and reminded her of her culture. Cadigan spent an hour making tea because he couldn't make this type of tea any faster. He set two mugs down in his office, both on coasters of course, one to the right of his big comfy chair, and the other to the right of the less comfy guest chair, where Miera sat.
"And this'll count as a mana exercise?"
"Sure will, kiddo." Cadigan smiled.
"So… is that why you keep Minty?" She gestured to the cat on the windowsill.
The cat was a deep earthy brown, although you couldn't tell that by looking at her.
See, Minty was a dirtcat. A breed of cat that was crossbred with dirt ages ago. Dirtcats were even lazier than normal cats, shed fur that crumbled into dirt-like particles and grew flora on their bodies. Dirtcats were playful, lazy, didn't need feeding, didn't expel waste and were considered better for plants than plant pots. Overall, if you didn't mind the worse shedding, they were lovely low maintenance exotic pets.
Not to mention the agricultural benefits.
You see, seeds sown on dirtcats thrive. Some sort of mysterious nature magic inherent to their construction means that they grow fast, healthy and typically pest free. This leads to most domestic dirtcats being almost like pet chickens. Loved absolutely, but also had the habit of partially subsidising their own cost.
Not in the case of Minty.
Trouble came when Minty as a kitten rolled around in a patch of mint. And mint did what mint does best when presented with perfect soil conditions.
Cadigan had adopted the thing as a kitten, presumably some weeks after the event, and had kept the patch of mint from overgrowing the cat ever since.
"Oh? No, I keep Minty around cos she's a cutie." He smiled affectionately, rubbing the cat under the chin.
Minty affectionately nuzzled into his hand, but moved no further, as if removing herself from her sunbeam would physically hurt her.
Miera shrugged and gently blew on the mana-rich mint tea.
"Okay, Mimi, when you take a sip, I want you to close your eyes and focus on that warmth. Feel it travel down your throat… pool in your stomach, and then… suck it inside you!"
Miera nodded, sipping the tea. She closed her eyes…. She felt it. The warmth. It was travelling down her throat… pooling in her stomach…
Wait.
Wait, suck it inside how? She felt that warmth, that heat growing inside her. It was starting to turn into a burn. She was panicking. She opened her mouth to talk. "Blrbl."
And a single oil slick rainbow coloured bubble slipped out of her mouth.
Cadigan startled a laugh. "M-Mimi??"
"What the heck was that?!" She was rubbing her throat. It stung a little.
"Um… I think you failed to integrate the mana into yourself."
"Yeah, I was trying to ask! How do I do that??"
Cadigan blinked. "How?" Cadigan… didn't know how to answer her, you just suck it in. "Um-well…you just kinda do it? I'm sorry baby, but this isn't the kinda thing I figured people have trouble with!" He laughed awkwardly, before turning to the shitty desktop computer precariously balanced on the right side of his desk.
The cream coloured CRT behemoth and big clacky keyboard hissed at him as he slowly whirred it to life with a proud smile.
Miera groaned. He loved that stupid thing. "Daaaad, you know the intranet here sucks…"
"Well. It was very good in Grey Dominion dear. Plus the computers were quicker… thinner… better built… why did I move again?" He chuckled, softly, waiting for the webpage to load. Verrrrry slowly.
"Cos a fortune teller told you you'd find happiness here…" Miera rolled her eyes. It was a sweet story. Though it was one she'd heard a million times beforel
Cadigan adjusted his glasses and leaned into the computer screen. "And she was right! Alright, lets see here… Having trouble with-nope. Nope. Not that…" every webpage took maybe a minute to load, and another minute to load back to the search result menu.
Miera snapped. "Oh my god Dad just use your phone!!"
"No, it'd still be slow." Cadigan said, sloooooowly dragging the ball mouse over to page two.
"It would be quicker! Why do we even HAVE this piece of garbage computer, we have phones that are better and smaller than it!"
"Now dear, we couldn't always afford to import from Dominion. We should remember to be grateful for what we have."
"We should be grateful by using the better stuff." she mumbled sullenly.
"Hmm… okay, I think I see whats wrong here!"
"Ahem!" He cleared his throat and started reading off the webpage. "So, you've been casting spells. How."
"I…. Move the mana into my hands and… shape it."
He clicked onto that box, and read the next question.
"Do you use your hands to shape it?"
"Yes? What else would you use?"
"Well, this says most people just move the mana inside them itself. As opposed to using their bodies to move it around like you are. Its… a developmental delay that means intentionally doing mana exercises is gonna be hard for you, kiddo. No easy tea for you, you're gonna have to do exercises!"
Miera groaned.
—
Miera was having a horrible day.
"Lift! Lift!!! You got this!!" Cadigan cheered to Miera.
Miera was trying to do sit-ups. She thought it would be easy! She sits up all the time. Apparently, the right way to sit up was the wrong way to do an exercise called the sit up, who knew? After 6 of the infernal things, she felt… like she was gonna throw up. But-not throw up, like how people normally do, like… throw up with magic. Like that little… flower in her stomach that she opened to cast spells was gonna burst.
She finished the 10th sit up and flopped limp on their garage floor.
Cadigan clapped energetically on the exercise bike. "Woo!! Great job sweetie! Okay, next step is to try and open your mana reserves."
It wasn't hard actually. The thing was actually half undone already, and as it bloomed in her stomach mana rushed through her body. It was like the exercise was building pressure in that organ and this was the release.
It was… relaxing. She still wasn't moving it on her own, but the thin strands were working through her body and slowly dissolving. It was… meditative. Relaxing. You could get lost in the natural flow and curl of mana…
And then came the fanfare.
[Level Up!]
[You are now a: Level 3 Pinball Wizard!]
[New Skill: Conjure Bumper]
—
Finniera was having a great day! Mimi was taking her new class seriously, their returns had come in and she had actually finally managed to schedule an evening off work and best of all, Miera was having a sleepover with her new friend, meaning Finni was going to have a lovely meal with her husband.
Yes indeed, Finny was having a wonderful day! She had a delightful cup of tea and -quite scandalously- four biscuits. Yes! Yes she truly was spoiling herself!~
She carefully dipped the biscuit in the tea… slowly raised it to her lips, and-Of course, it was precisely at that moment when someone knocked on the door.
"Confounding-who calls at this hour?!" Notably, it was 11 AM. "Ruddy blasted door-to-door salesmen, I ought to give them a piece of my mind…"
She set the biscuit down, calmly stood up, dusted herself free of crumbs, lightly dusted herself in glitter in the process and very slowly and spitefully walked to the door. She cracked the door open.
Oh. Oh it was worse than she thought!
She swung the door wide with a polite smile on her face.
"Brother Micah! Sister Elise!" It was the church. "What a pleasure, AND a surprise!" The fake smile plastered on her face probably didn't fool the two churchpeople but she was doing it for herself. [Show No Weakness: Social] was carrying all the weight right now.
As is, it simply seemed like she was pretending not to know anything out of politeness. Unfortunately, she really didn't know why they were here!
"Hello!~" Micah smiled. He was a gray haired, bearded Gnome with spectacles, robes and a little staff.
Elise was a much younger orcish woman, barely 17. But was similarly clad, even with tiny spectacles. The only difference in equipment was that she had a scepter and book, instead of a staff. Elise nodded politely.
"Mrs. Sundew."
"Come on in, may I offer you some tea?" She stepped to the side politely. Yes. Enter my domain. Accept my hospitality and I will crush you under the weight of ruining my morning….
"Oh that would be lovely, thank you!" Micah smiled.
YES!
—
5 minutes later, the three were sat down, teacups in hand with small plates of decadent confectionary.
"Oh my, that was quite fast!" Micah said, happily.
It took all the willpower Finniera had not to smirk in won confidence. "Yes it was awfully fast, wasn't it?" Ohohoho~ Finni you sly devil, you~
"This tea is delicious." Elise complimented her with a small smile.
Ha! False compliments. The suckers gambit. That tea is understeeped garbage! And the snacks… oh they seemed decadent, fit for a prince! But they were childrens snacks. This was an old power play, The Elvish Snub.
By taking the biscuits you admit your lack of sophistication, by resorting to a childs snack! But not taking the confectionary too was a mistake! Its impolite. The correct move was to grab the carefully hidden, austere wafers as effortlessly as you can and eat those.
Naturally, this move played out flawlessly. Both Micah and Elise greedily grabbing for the snacks they kept for Miera's baby cousins. What fools!
"Thank you, Elise! And how are you settling into the church?"
"Its been a good year. Level 13 now."
"Oh thats so fast! My, you must be positively delighted!" She clapped her hands together.
"Yes, I'm thrilled." Elise said, expression not changing. "However it seems the System has thrown me a new test."
"Oh?"
"Myeah." She sighed. "To level up next, its makin' me go on an adventure."
"Ahh. I understand, that must be such trouble! I understand that the church struggles to send its children on pilgrimage?" She turned to Micah, oozing with faux-concern.
"Oh yes!" Micah nods, still smiling. "Poor Elise will most likely have to join an adventuring party and follow wheresoever they go, the poor dear is just terrified, weren't you, Elise?"
"Yes. I was so frightened that I screamed." Elise said, flatly.
Micah sighed and rubbed her arm. "Poor dear. Well she'll hopefully work uo the nerve to go on her way. But for now, I must confess, this isn't just a social call." He shook his head.
Yeah, no shit.
"Oh, truly? What could you want with us?"
"Well… unfortunately, we have received credible reports that your daughter has… well… chosen her class."
"Ah. So you're here to?…"
"Simply confirm the report! Elise here has been granted the [Administrator: Check] skill! And with that, well, Elise can check up on if she has a class or not."
"And what if she does?"
"Well… thats sort of tricky, I'm afraid. We can't just let you go, that sets an awful precedent! But… we try to work out reasonable fines that don't make you destitute, but we need to be clear that this is a very bad thing indeed! So… how much are you able to pay? The legal maximum fine is 500 fullcoins."
Now… this was a genuine, nice gesture. This was the church making a compromise between principle and people. It was them attempting to be fair to both the parents and the child.
But to Finniera Sundew this didn't feel like a conversation.
To Finniera Sundew, this felt like pity. Unearned pity. Was she NOT a woman of means?! Did they not see her house, her finery, her clothes?? She wanted to growl. She wanted to gnash her teeth and curse their names. She calmly sipped from her tea. She needed to make a statement.
"500 fullcoins is acceptable." She said calmly.
"Well lets not get hasty, here! We still need to do the test!"
"Ah, of course." She chuckled. "Yes, I'll get her down, shouldn't be a minute."
—
Miera was pacing in her room. She held a pointer stick in hand behind her back.
"Alright troops… we have a mission today. We're going to Ivy's house. For a sleepover! This is recon! A scouting mission, ladies! We need to get DIRT on her! And learn a second spell."
Also, she maybe wanted Ivy and Penny to kiss but that was neither here nor there!!
The ensemble of soft toys said nothing back.
"However! This is not just any sleepover. This is Ivy's first sleepover. This means we need someone inoffensive. Cute. Soft. Cuddly." She turned on her heel and, in a flash, thrust the pointer stick out at a round cat plush with pokey ears and a little :3 face.
"Can YOU keep your cool behind enemy lines?!"
It :3'd back impassively.
"I thought not. Well theres nothing for it. Time to get Miss Hoppy outta retirement."
The plushies sat there, lined up. She turned to face one with a gimlet eye. A small pocket sized green dragon with a felt gout of flame belching from its cloth mouth. Clearly, it said something in whatever vapid imaginings she was performing.
"Oh? Suicide mission? You make me laugh. For you maybe. For any of you louts! But Hoppy's the best we got. And maybe she'll finally get that farm…" She squinted off into the distance.
Miera clambered onto the top bunk, grabbed a certain brown furred bunny plush sat atop her pillow and packed her into her overnight bag with a cheerful grin, dispelling the make-believe war prep.
"Thats that then! Alright, we need to make this the best sleepover/study session there's ever been, there's so much riding on this!!"
"Who're you talking to?" Finniera stared at the carnival before her.
"AH! Oh, heyyyy Muuuummmm…. Whats up, whats the haps, how ya doiiiin'?"
"The church wants to see you."
Really, climbing up that tree was just the smartest thing she could do.
—
"Young lady, come down from that tree." Finniera said in her sternest voice.
"No! I'm a criminal! The fuzz won't take me alive!"
"They just want to talk, Mimi-"
"Thats what they always say!"
Finniera was having a day. "Young lady… fine."
She turned to Elise.
"Can you do it from here?"
"I should be able to. The tree really doesn't help her at all."
"[Administrator: Check]"
A smell of dust filled the air, screeching, high pitched beeps and squeaks as a piece of paper slowly jettisoned out of a glowing, golden port in the air.
"What did you do?" Miera patted herself down, quietly, nervously. The Skill didn't feel good, it felt like someone was painlessly extruding her through a thin metal slit.
"How… long does that take?" Finniera pointed at it slowly ejecting from the air.
"A while." Elise sighed, both people seemingly ignoring Miera. "It's really loud. I'm sorry."
"Hey! Hey!! Whatever you're doing, QUIT IT!" Miera yelled, starting to climb down the tree.
And eventually, the long reel of punched paper slowly drifted down into Elise's hands. She carefully handled it, squinting at the words the printed dots formed.
"Hm. Well, she has a class alright. But, I gotta say, thats a new one."
Miera's eyes widened. She wasn't ready. She wanted to work hard, and show how much she really cared about this before she told her parents what it was. "Do we have to reveal it??"
Elise blinked. "Um… legally your mother has a right to know what your class is."
Miera turned to Finniera, the most droopy eared begging expression on her face. Finni's heart melted slightly, but she held strong.
"Mimi… whatever Class you chose that you're so embarrassed about… you've been working very hard. You've been trying to learn and I've never seen you so passionate! Well, about anything but that silly game." She chuckled, not noticing as Miera tensed up. "But you're better than that now! So I'm sure you can-"
And Miera ran away. Not away away, just… she ran into the house, and into her room.
Finniera sighed. "I hope she's alright. Well then, whats the damage?"
"I wouldn't say damage." Elise hums. "Your kids been busy! Level 3 'Pinball Wizard.'"
"…Oh fuck me. Okay just go away." Finniera waved her hand. "We'll pay it, just go. I need to apologise to my daughter."
And that she did.
Chapter 6: Double Date! (and Ivy) Part 1
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NotTheBaptist
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The Seven Colour Sages were a group of craftsmen, tricksters, conmen and bastards. Despite this being how they chose to be remembered, their impact on the world cannot be understated. By bringing Logic into being, they paved the road for true industry and civilisation.
Each Sage founded their own place of power, 4 of which remain definitively standing to this day.
The Rumbling Red (Destroyed)
Orange Logos (Intact)
Dancing in this Beautiful Yellow Field, I Weep at the Banality of it All (Intact)
Green's Pragmatism (Presumed Destroyed)
The Blue Clarity Institute (Intact)
Forgotten Indigo (No Contact)
Violet Malevolence (Intact)
To this day, being named after a colour is the greatest display of hubris or pride a city can muster.
- Why Logic is superior to Chaos, a treatise
—
Finniera was a flawed woman. She could admit that to herself easily enough. If anyone else dared to suggest it, she'd be affronted, but she was of herself. She could be honest. She had flaws.
The one that was rearing its ugly head now was that she really fucking hated arcade games. The places smelled, they were filled with unwashed creeps, and the games were… sort of sticky, sometimes? She had no idea how her daughter, HER daughter, could stand them.
But she could. And she had to accept that fact. She took a deep breath in, and knocked on Mimi's door.
"Mimi, sweetie… I think we need to talk."
—
On the other end of the door, Miera was cuddled up in a blanket, her overnight bag upturned. She wasn't cuddling the bunny, but she was… holding it in her lap. Thumbs ritually combing over the bald patch on its head. Her mother hated her. She must do.
In her head, Miera needed to be level 5 before she told Finniera her class. That way she'd see that she's taking it seriously, that she's not a screw up, that she's trying her hardest!
And then Finniera knocked a second time, breaking her from her stupor.
"Mimi, darling? Please open the door. I'll ask you once more but then I have to come in anyway."
"Its not locked." Miera mumbled.
Finniera quietly entered. She knelt down, next to the curled up blanket pile on the floor. Finniera pulled the girl into her lap.
"So… Pinball Wizard?" She smiles a little, confused, sad, soft.
Something twisted inside of Miera, then burst out in a blubber.
"'M sorry! I'm-I'm sorry Mum!" Miera burst out of the blanket, crying. "I'm sorry, I was being stupid and I'm sorry and I know you wanted me to pick a serious class and I messed up like a big dumb screw-up!-"
Finniera hugged her daughter. It was tight, sudden, and out of character for Finniera. She tried her best but Finniera was never any good at the action itself, or initiating it at the right time.
"I'm sorry. Miera… my darling baby girl, I never wanted you to feel like this. I was just worried. This…. This is what I had hoped to avoid." She laughs, at the irony of it. "I'm sorry. I never wanted you to be ashamed of what you picked. I just didn't want you to regret it like me. I've been too terrible for too long to you." Finniera whispered to the bundled and tear stricken Mimi on her lap.
Finniera leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.
Mimi sniffed. "I'm sorry…"
"You have nothing to apologise for. Mimi, you've gained 2 levels in as many days! Thats incredible progress. I was worried about you picking something fanciful and then dropping it after a week. I trust you, sweetheart. You have nothing to prove to me, as long as you're happy and healthy and kind… I will always support you."
Finniera just held her after that. Minutes crept to hours. It took Finniera too long to realise that Miera was asleep in her lap. And that she should start getting ready for her date.
"Mimi, darling. Mimi?" She shook the girl in her lap. She stirred but didn't wake up. Finniera laughed a little and sighed.
"Miera Sundew." She said in The Mum Voice.
And like magic, Miera shot to uprightness.
"Snrk-whuh?-Mum…?" She groaned, rubbing her eyes.
"Hello, Mimi. I need to get ready for my date with your father. Are you packed?"
"Uh… I was…" She turned a groggy head to the pile of things and upturned bag on the floor. She sighed and started re-packing. Finniera laughed mirthfully.
"Good girl. I'll be in the shower, I'll drop you off at this… Ivy's house once I'm ready. Make sure you're prepared! And-Mimi?"
Miera sighed. "Yes mum?"
Finniera leaned down, kissed Miera on top of the head, stood up and started leaving the room. "I love you."
"…Oh." Miera blinked. Then smiled.
—
Miera had been dropped off and Finniera was driving back home. Her grip on the wheel was tense. To Finniera, driving was therapeutic. If she had to choose a class today, she would have chosen [Driver] without a doubt.
She didn't even mind having a class that wasn't applicable to her job. She hated that it was just a waste. A waste facilitated by childhood fancy.
Certainly, it had perks. Her hair was always tangle free, she could modulate her metabolism a little, burning off fat quicker, and building it slower, and she could always act totally in the know.
"But fuck me, the ability to run red lights for free would be so awesome…" She groaned to herself, drumming her fingers on the wheel.
She pulled up outside the house, locked the door, and stepped back inside. Now that Mimi was gone… Finni flopped down on the couch.
Cadigan worked from home as a tax mage. It was good work, paid well, and could be done digitally from home with a fax machine and a spreadsheet.
Cadigan had 20 minutes of work left, which meant he had better have enchanted his pen to auto-tally and was getting dressed if he knew what was good for him.
Finniera blew a raspberry through her lips and fumbled for the remote, turning the television on. She was rumpling her dress by being sat like this. She didn't care.
The television was tuned to some garbage cooking show. 'Cooking Done Right' by Elias Dirk.
"Psh. More like Elias Dork…" Finniera mumbled. She was exhausted, bitter, in a lousy mood and even though they could still afford to go out to this dinner, 500 fullcoins was not a small sum. That was about as much as it cost to import a phone from Grey Dominion.
She was spiralling about it now that she had a minute and Miera was out of the room. She could quietly admit that to herself. She wasn't even sure if she should go on this date, she'd just ruin it with her-
"Hoo, Finni, work was such a pain, I am so ready for this date!" Cadigan smiled warmly at her, his expression slowly turning to concern. He was wearing his nice blazer and dress shirt.
"Finni? Whats wrong, sweetie?" He sat down next to her, frowning.
"Don't look at me, Cadigan, I'm a mess." Finniera said, but leaned against his side anyway.
"I know that look. Miera do something daft again?"
"No. This time it was me. The church came over, you were out at the time. They came to confirm Mieras class. We owe them 500 fullcoins." She sighed.
Ah. Thats… fine." Cadigan frowned, clearly thinking of the economics. He brightened, smiling. "We can afford that, don't worry!"
"Thats not all." She shakes her head, handing him the wilted piece of dot matrix printer paper.
Cadigan flipped down the reel. "Ah."
"She was terrified, Cadigan. She thought-she-" Finniera shook her head and sighed.
"Finni, darling…" Cadigan adjusted himself, letting her flop her head on his lap. His hand was rubbing her scalp softly, twining little circles into it.
"I made her feel like a screw up. Like she was useless. That was my fault. I hurt her. I hurt our darling girl and…God-I'm just like my mother." She whispered bitterly.
"Finni. No you're not. You're nothing like that bog witch of a woman. Finniera, your mother would never do this. Never act so upset for hurting you. You are better than her." This was an old song and dance by now.
Finniera would hurt someone, apologise, do her best to make it up to them, then spiral about it in the privacy of her own home. Luckily she had Cadigan. Cadigan was her rock. When she was spiralling over something, he listened to her, he soothed her, and in the end, she felt better.
Cadigan and Finny just sat there for a minute. Finniera sat up, brushing down the tight red dress she wore, divesting it of creases.
"Ahem… thank you, Cadigan."
"Always, Finni. How's she doing now, over at that sleepover?" He stood up, walking Finniera to the car. He wasn't dumb enough to let her drive. The mad woman was a fiend behind the wheel.
"She's good, she's calm. We talked, I apologised, made sure she knew I wasn't upset and was proud of the progress she was making." Finniera smiled, too weary to really question the fact she wasn't driving.
"Thats good. Alls well that ends well, we can pay the fine and get on with things." Cadigan smiled, eyes on the road.
Finni felt a prickle on her neck. Oh. Right. "Oh. Miera doesn't know about the fine. It didn't come up."
"Ah. Well we'll have to have a talk with her after school tomorrow."
"I… I don't want to, I admit." Finniera sighed.
"Finni…" He frowned, giving her a look,
"I know! I know, but, damn it, you should've seen her face, she was terrified! I can't hurt her like that again, and I just KNOW she'll blame herself if she hears of it."
"I know, Finni, but we have to tell her. Maybe she'll take it badly, but maybe she'll learn something about responsibility!"
She sighs. "I don't want everything to be a lesson. She deserves to just relax."
Cadigan turned to Finni with a frown as they pulled into the car park of the restaurant.
"Finniera, I know you don't like being hard on her, but she cost us 500 fullcoins. We aren't going to punish her, just let her know and sort out her feelings on it."
Finniera sighed and shook her head. Mimi took after her mother, that'd just make her feel worse, she knew it. She unbuckled her seatbelt and the pair started to walk into the restaurant.
—
It had been… a half hour of small talk. Clearly both were still thinking about it. Eventually Cadigan broke first. "Okay, fine, structured debate?"
Finniera smiled. It was a concept the pair had picked up from a television show. Vocalising that need to talk about a topic helped prepare the other. She sighed. "I imagine you wish to start?"
The drinks arrived, both players smiled. The mental games had begun and Finniera sipped her wine.
In this battlefield they weren't loving husband and wife anymore. They were combatants. Duelists.
The winner won the all important prize. The knowledge of victory.
By gamifying it, they helped keep things light. It stopped them from devolving into arguments and tangents and personal attacks, which was a struggle both partners had had previously.
"We should tell her because it is her fault. Not to instil guilt or upset into her, but because we want her to become a well rounded individual. Trying to protect her from this is only going to hurt her."
"I disagree completely. Miera is a precocious girl and I think that's telling her, but not punishing her will hurt her more. We should either not tell her, or punish her mildly."
And… the debate was suddenly broken. Finniera almost laughed at Cadigan's startle.
"I…why did you dig your feet in if you had that in the chamber the whole time?" Cadigan grinned sheepishly.
"To be honest, I hadn't thought of it at the time. Perhaps a week of no phone time?"
And then the food arrived. Both partners were familiar with the restaurant, it was a spot they had come to many times over the years.
Finniera always ordered the sea bass, and Cadigan always ordered something new and ended up wishing he'd ordered the chicken salad.
"Hm… Maybe? I dunno, maybe we could take her arcade privileges away?"
"No. Thats a part of her class now, its crucial we don't discourage her."
"Good point. Hm…. Make her help clean the house?"
"Oh, maybe? It'd be a nice excuse to finally get the shed cleaned out whilst we're at it."
"Wait, damn. You're right, the shed! We can't let her help clean without tipping off that there's something in the shed."
"Hm. We could say one of us is doing it?"
"Please. Finni, the only reason we haven't cleaned that thing out is because none of us want to and we haven't found the time."
"Ugh, you're right." She cut into her fish and bit into it. She frowned. "…Hm. This wasn't made by Vineri."
"Oh yeah?" He bit into his burger. Not noticing a difference, mostly because he hadn't ordered this thing before.
Finniera nods, flagging their server over. "Definitely. Ah, Pamela, darling! Is Vineri unwell?"
"Ah, noticed the change, have you? Sorry. He's found an apprentice." Pamela chuckles.
"An… apprentice, you say? I assume this is cooked by them?" Finniera steeped her hands in front of her.
"Yes, sorry, I can have it brought back if there's something wrong-"
"No. Nothing's wrong, I just couldn't taste Vineri's Skills on it. The meal itself is palatable. Thank you darling."
Pamela smiled and walked away.
"Well, that's something, huh? A new chef made something to your standard?"
"Yes. He must be pretty talented. But enough of that. I had a brilliant idea." She smiled. Not the small, demure smile she puts on for others, it's a grin, full of lively wit. The kind of smile that precludes an idea.
"Oh?" Cadigan smiled back, curious.
"He has an apprentice, dear. Who's to say we can't find something similar for Mimi? She hates learning, so a tutor would punish her, whilst also making sure she's doing something productive with the time."
Cadigan drummed his fingers on his chin. "Hm. That… is aninteresting concept. We'd have to find wizardry tutors, make sure we can afford them, make sure they're not scamming us."
Finniera smiled. Cadigan was getting excited, it was adorable.
—
The bill came, 42 fullcoins and a halfcoin.
"Oh, thats cheaper than normal." Cadigan hummed, reviewing it. "Ah. 20% apprentice discount! You can always count on Vineri, huh?" He smiled appreciatively. He pulled out a golden coin with a 50 on one side of it. He squeezed it and two silver coins popped out. The 50 had been reduced to 49. He kept squeezing it, and instead of silvers, individual gold coins poured out until the number on the original coin read 42. He placed it in the middle of the table, along with a single silver coin.
The remaining coins on the table slowly started shaking and wobbling, moving towards eachother until there sat a single gold coin with a 7 on it. He replaced them in his coinpurse with the spare halfcoin.
Cadigan cleared his throat as the pair left the restaurant.
Finniera was more than a little tipsy and was cuddling into Cadigan who was very carefully running damage control so she wouldn't be embarrassed in the morning.
"Caddy. Cadigan-Caddyyyy~ I loooove you. You're sooo smart and pretttyyyyyy~ mwah, mwah, mwah." She made the kissy noises but didn't actually kiss him, barely hanging off of his arm.
"Finniera, honey, lets get you to the car." Cadigan smiled as the pair walked to the car, Cadigan gently ushering her into the passenger seat.
"When we get home, you know Miera isn't hoooome~" she sing-songed, grinning.
Cadigan blinked. She must be VERY drunk to be suggesting… that. He swallowed nervously.
"Sweetie, are you sure you want to? You're only offering cos you're drunk." Sure they were married, but the discomfort was present whilst she was sober. It wouldn't be proper to just say yes.
She smiles, its a vaguely self-sobering gesture. "Babyyy… I love you. Its a special occasion. I was always going to offer, just… keep it a secret until I did. This isn't the alcohol talking."
"Okay…"
—
"Checkmate." Cadigan smiled sheepishly.
"Yahtzee." He chuckled, softly.
"That's 2000 M, I think that's bankrupts you?"
"I attack you directly with Neos, and that's game?"
"And laboratory maniac triggers, I have no cards in my library, I win?"
"Oh wait, I get longest road here, I win!"
"Are you sure you want to keep playing?" Cadigan smiled awkwardly at the weepy Finniera.
"If you loved me you'd let me win oooone…"
"Sorry baby. That's emotional blackmail. Anyway, thats my fox quest done, 5 points and game?"
"Waaaaah…"
This continued for hours, Finniera kept losing and losing and losing.
And then they went upstairs and had sex.
—
[The Slightly-Deeper-Than-It-Looks Coinpurse]
A tool of smugglers and thieves in ages past, this item may seem like it's just a worse version of a bag of holding.
And you'd be right. That was exactly what the makers of this were trying to achieve when they built it.
A bag with no end sticks out, after all. Bags of holding are three times as likely to be studied in baggage checks when compared to normal pouches.
This bag is enchanted to the same degree of mastery as a bag of holding, but its all weaved into the subtlety of the enchantment. It can carry much much less than the standard bag of holding and yet it appears barely enchanted.
Better for smuggling.
However, its subtlety was its downfall, ironically. The ability to detect barely any enchantment made savvy shoppers think it was a scam. These never took off, the enchantments died, and legitimate or System-Created versions are worth a large sum to interested parties.
Each Sage founded their own place of power, 4 of which remain definitively standing to this day.
The Rumbling Red (Destroyed)
Orange Logos (Intact)
Dancing in this Beautiful Yellow Field, I Weep at the Banality of it All (Intact)
Green's Pragmatism (Presumed Destroyed)
The Blue Clarity Institute (Intact)
Forgotten Indigo (No Contact)
Violet Malevolence (Intact)
To this day, being named after a colour is the greatest display of hubris or pride a city can muster.
- Why Logic is superior to Chaos, a treatise
—
Finniera was a flawed woman. She could admit that to herself easily enough. If anyone else dared to suggest it, she'd be affronted, but she was of herself. She could be honest. She had flaws.
The one that was rearing its ugly head now was that she really fucking hated arcade games. The places smelled, they were filled with unwashed creeps, and the games were… sort of sticky, sometimes? She had no idea how her daughter, HER daughter, could stand them.
But she could. And she had to accept that fact. She took a deep breath in, and knocked on Mimi's door.
"Mimi, sweetie… I think we need to talk."
—
On the other end of the door, Miera was cuddled up in a blanket, her overnight bag upturned. She wasn't cuddling the bunny, but she was… holding it in her lap. Thumbs ritually combing over the bald patch on its head. Her mother hated her. She must do.
In her head, Miera needed to be level 5 before she told Finniera her class. That way she'd see that she's taking it seriously, that she's not a screw up, that she's trying her hardest!
And then Finniera knocked a second time, breaking her from her stupor.
"Mimi, darling? Please open the door. I'll ask you once more but then I have to come in anyway."
"Its not locked." Miera mumbled.
Finniera quietly entered. She knelt down, next to the curled up blanket pile on the floor. Finniera pulled the girl into her lap.
"So… Pinball Wizard?" She smiles a little, confused, sad, soft.
Something twisted inside of Miera, then burst out in a blubber.
"'M sorry! I'm-I'm sorry Mum!" Miera burst out of the blanket, crying. "I'm sorry, I was being stupid and I'm sorry and I know you wanted me to pick a serious class and I messed up like a big dumb screw-up!-"
Finniera hugged her daughter. It was tight, sudden, and out of character for Finniera. She tried her best but Finniera was never any good at the action itself, or initiating it at the right time.
"I'm sorry. Miera… my darling baby girl, I never wanted you to feel like this. I was just worried. This…. This is what I had hoped to avoid." She laughs, at the irony of it. "I'm sorry. I never wanted you to be ashamed of what you picked. I just didn't want you to regret it like me. I've been too terrible for too long to you." Finniera whispered to the bundled and tear stricken Mimi on her lap.
Finniera leaned down and kissed her on the forehead.
Mimi sniffed. "I'm sorry…"
"You have nothing to apologise for. Mimi, you've gained 2 levels in as many days! Thats incredible progress. I was worried about you picking something fanciful and then dropping it after a week. I trust you, sweetheart. You have nothing to prove to me, as long as you're happy and healthy and kind… I will always support you."
Finniera just held her after that. Minutes crept to hours. It took Finniera too long to realise that Miera was asleep in her lap. And that she should start getting ready for her date.
"Mimi, darling. Mimi?" She shook the girl in her lap. She stirred but didn't wake up. Finniera laughed a little and sighed.
"Miera Sundew." She said in The Mum Voice.
And like magic, Miera shot to uprightness.
"Snrk-whuh?-Mum…?" She groaned, rubbing her eyes.
"Hello, Mimi. I need to get ready for my date with your father. Are you packed?"
"Uh… I was…" She turned a groggy head to the pile of things and upturned bag on the floor. She sighed and started re-packing. Finniera laughed mirthfully.
"Good girl. I'll be in the shower, I'll drop you off at this… Ivy's house once I'm ready. Make sure you're prepared! And-Mimi?"
Miera sighed. "Yes mum?"
Finniera leaned down, kissed Miera on top of the head, stood up and started leaving the room. "I love you."
"…Oh." Miera blinked. Then smiled.
—
Miera had been dropped off and Finniera was driving back home. Her grip on the wheel was tense. To Finniera, driving was therapeutic. If she had to choose a class today, she would have chosen [Driver] without a doubt.
She didn't even mind having a class that wasn't applicable to her job. She hated that it was just a waste. A waste facilitated by childhood fancy.
Certainly, it had perks. Her hair was always tangle free, she could modulate her metabolism a little, burning off fat quicker, and building it slower, and she could always act totally in the know.
"But fuck me, the ability to run red lights for free would be so awesome…" She groaned to herself, drumming her fingers on the wheel.
She pulled up outside the house, locked the door, and stepped back inside. Now that Mimi was gone… Finni flopped down on the couch.
Cadigan worked from home as a tax mage. It was good work, paid well, and could be done digitally from home with a fax machine and a spreadsheet.
Cadigan had 20 minutes of work left, which meant he had better have enchanted his pen to auto-tally and was getting dressed if he knew what was good for him.
Finniera blew a raspberry through her lips and fumbled for the remote, turning the television on. She was rumpling her dress by being sat like this. She didn't care.
The television was tuned to some garbage cooking show. 'Cooking Done Right' by Elias Dirk.
"Psh. More like Elias Dork…" Finniera mumbled. She was exhausted, bitter, in a lousy mood and even though they could still afford to go out to this dinner, 500 fullcoins was not a small sum. That was about as much as it cost to import a phone from Grey Dominion.
She was spiralling about it now that she had a minute and Miera was out of the room. She could quietly admit that to herself. She wasn't even sure if she should go on this date, she'd just ruin it with her-
"Hoo, Finni, work was such a pain, I am so ready for this date!" Cadigan smiled warmly at her, his expression slowly turning to concern. He was wearing his nice blazer and dress shirt.
"Finni? Whats wrong, sweetie?" He sat down next to her, frowning.
"Don't look at me, Cadigan, I'm a mess." Finniera said, but leaned against his side anyway.
"I know that look. Miera do something daft again?"
"No. This time it was me. The church came over, you were out at the time. They came to confirm Mieras class. We owe them 500 fullcoins." She sighed.
Ah. Thats… fine." Cadigan frowned, clearly thinking of the economics. He brightened, smiling. "We can afford that, don't worry!"
"Thats not all." She shakes her head, handing him the wilted piece of dot matrix printer paper.
Cadigan flipped down the reel. "Ah."
"She was terrified, Cadigan. She thought-she-" Finniera shook her head and sighed.
"Finni, darling…" Cadigan adjusted himself, letting her flop her head on his lap. His hand was rubbing her scalp softly, twining little circles into it.
"I made her feel like a screw up. Like she was useless. That was my fault. I hurt her. I hurt our darling girl and…God-I'm just like my mother." She whispered bitterly.
"Finni. No you're not. You're nothing like that bog witch of a woman. Finniera, your mother would never do this. Never act so upset for hurting you. You are better than her." This was an old song and dance by now.
Finniera would hurt someone, apologise, do her best to make it up to them, then spiral about it in the privacy of her own home. Luckily she had Cadigan. Cadigan was her rock. When she was spiralling over something, he listened to her, he soothed her, and in the end, she felt better.
Cadigan and Finny just sat there for a minute. Finniera sat up, brushing down the tight red dress she wore, divesting it of creases.
"Ahem… thank you, Cadigan."
"Always, Finni. How's she doing now, over at that sleepover?" He stood up, walking Finniera to the car. He wasn't dumb enough to let her drive. The mad woman was a fiend behind the wheel.
"She's good, she's calm. We talked, I apologised, made sure she knew I wasn't upset and was proud of the progress she was making." Finniera smiled, too weary to really question the fact she wasn't driving.
"Thats good. Alls well that ends well, we can pay the fine and get on with things." Cadigan smiled, eyes on the road.
Finni felt a prickle on her neck. Oh. Right. "Oh. Miera doesn't know about the fine. It didn't come up."
"Ah. Well we'll have to have a talk with her after school tomorrow."
"I… I don't want to, I admit." Finniera sighed.
"Finni…" He frowned, giving her a look,
"I know! I know, but, damn it, you should've seen her face, she was terrified! I can't hurt her like that again, and I just KNOW she'll blame herself if she hears of it."
"I know, Finni, but we have to tell her. Maybe she'll take it badly, but maybe she'll learn something about responsibility!"
She sighs. "I don't want everything to be a lesson. She deserves to just relax."
Cadigan turned to Finni with a frown as they pulled into the car park of the restaurant.
"Finniera, I know you don't like being hard on her, but she cost us 500 fullcoins. We aren't going to punish her, just let her know and sort out her feelings on it."
Finniera sighed and shook her head. Mimi took after her mother, that'd just make her feel worse, she knew it. She unbuckled her seatbelt and the pair started to walk into the restaurant.
—
It had been… a half hour of small talk. Clearly both were still thinking about it. Eventually Cadigan broke first. "Okay, fine, structured debate?"
Finniera smiled. It was a concept the pair had picked up from a television show. Vocalising that need to talk about a topic helped prepare the other. She sighed. "I imagine you wish to start?"
The drinks arrived, both players smiled. The mental games had begun and Finniera sipped her wine.
In this battlefield they weren't loving husband and wife anymore. They were combatants. Duelists.
The winner won the all important prize. The knowledge of victory.
By gamifying it, they helped keep things light. It stopped them from devolving into arguments and tangents and personal attacks, which was a struggle both partners had had previously.
"We should tell her because it is her fault. Not to instil guilt or upset into her, but because we want her to become a well rounded individual. Trying to protect her from this is only going to hurt her."
"I disagree completely. Miera is a precocious girl and I think that's telling her, but not punishing her will hurt her more. We should either not tell her, or punish her mildly."
And… the debate was suddenly broken. Finniera almost laughed at Cadigan's startle.
"I…why did you dig your feet in if you had that in the chamber the whole time?" Cadigan grinned sheepishly.
"To be honest, I hadn't thought of it at the time. Perhaps a week of no phone time?"
And then the food arrived. Both partners were familiar with the restaurant, it was a spot they had come to many times over the years.
Finniera always ordered the sea bass, and Cadigan always ordered something new and ended up wishing he'd ordered the chicken salad.
"Hm… Maybe? I dunno, maybe we could take her arcade privileges away?"
"No. Thats a part of her class now, its crucial we don't discourage her."
"Good point. Hm…. Make her help clean the house?"
"Oh, maybe? It'd be a nice excuse to finally get the shed cleaned out whilst we're at it."
"Wait, damn. You're right, the shed! We can't let her help clean without tipping off that there's something in the shed."
"Hm. We could say one of us is doing it?"
"Please. Finni, the only reason we haven't cleaned that thing out is because none of us want to and we haven't found the time."
"Ugh, you're right." She cut into her fish and bit into it. She frowned. "…Hm. This wasn't made by Vineri."
"Oh yeah?" He bit into his burger. Not noticing a difference, mostly because he hadn't ordered this thing before.
Finniera nods, flagging their server over. "Definitely. Ah, Pamela, darling! Is Vineri unwell?"
"Ah, noticed the change, have you? Sorry. He's found an apprentice." Pamela chuckles.
"An… apprentice, you say? I assume this is cooked by them?" Finniera steeped her hands in front of her.
"Yes, sorry, I can have it brought back if there's something wrong-"
"No. Nothing's wrong, I just couldn't taste Vineri's Skills on it. The meal itself is palatable. Thank you darling."
Pamela smiled and walked away.
"Well, that's something, huh? A new chef made something to your standard?"
"Yes. He must be pretty talented. But enough of that. I had a brilliant idea." She smiled. Not the small, demure smile she puts on for others, it's a grin, full of lively wit. The kind of smile that precludes an idea.
"Oh?" Cadigan smiled back, curious.
"He has an apprentice, dear. Who's to say we can't find something similar for Mimi? She hates learning, so a tutor would punish her, whilst also making sure she's doing something productive with the time."
Cadigan drummed his fingers on his chin. "Hm. That… is aninteresting concept. We'd have to find wizardry tutors, make sure we can afford them, make sure they're not scamming us."
Finniera smiled. Cadigan was getting excited, it was adorable.
—
The bill came, 42 fullcoins and a halfcoin.
"Oh, thats cheaper than normal." Cadigan hummed, reviewing it. "Ah. 20% apprentice discount! You can always count on Vineri, huh?" He smiled appreciatively. He pulled out a golden coin with a 50 on one side of it. He squeezed it and two silver coins popped out. The 50 had been reduced to 49. He kept squeezing it, and instead of silvers, individual gold coins poured out until the number on the original coin read 42. He placed it in the middle of the table, along with a single silver coin.
The remaining coins on the table slowly started shaking and wobbling, moving towards eachother until there sat a single gold coin with a 7 on it. He replaced them in his coinpurse with the spare halfcoin.
Cadigan cleared his throat as the pair left the restaurant.
Finniera was more than a little tipsy and was cuddling into Cadigan who was very carefully running damage control so she wouldn't be embarrassed in the morning.
"Caddy. Cadigan-Caddyyyy~ I loooove you. You're sooo smart and pretttyyyyyy~ mwah, mwah, mwah." She made the kissy noises but didn't actually kiss him, barely hanging off of his arm.
"Finniera, honey, lets get you to the car." Cadigan smiled as the pair walked to the car, Cadigan gently ushering her into the passenger seat.
"When we get home, you know Miera isn't hoooome~" she sing-songed, grinning.
Cadigan blinked. She must be VERY drunk to be suggesting… that. He swallowed nervously.
"Sweetie, are you sure you want to? You're only offering cos you're drunk." Sure they were married, but the discomfort was present whilst she was sober. It wouldn't be proper to just say yes.
She smiles, its a vaguely self-sobering gesture. "Babyyy… I love you. Its a special occasion. I was always going to offer, just… keep it a secret until I did. This isn't the alcohol talking."
"Okay…"
—
"Checkmate." Cadigan smiled sheepishly.
"Yahtzee." He chuckled, softly.
"That's 2000 M, I think that's bankrupts you?"
"I attack you directly with Neos, and that's game?"
"And laboratory maniac triggers, I have no cards in my library, I win?"
"Oh wait, I get longest road here, I win!"
"Are you sure you want to keep playing?" Cadigan smiled awkwardly at the weepy Finniera.
"If you loved me you'd let me win oooone…"
"Sorry baby. That's emotional blackmail. Anyway, thats my fox quest done, 5 points and game?"
"Waaaaah…"
This continued for hours, Finniera kept losing and losing and losing.
And then they went upstairs and had sex.
—
[The Slightly-Deeper-Than-It-Looks Coinpurse]
A tool of smugglers and thieves in ages past, this item may seem like it's just a worse version of a bag of holding.
And you'd be right. That was exactly what the makers of this were trying to achieve when they built it.
A bag with no end sticks out, after all. Bags of holding are three times as likely to be studied in baggage checks when compared to normal pouches.
This bag is enchanted to the same degree of mastery as a bag of holding, but its all weaved into the subtlety of the enchantment. It can carry much much less than the standard bag of holding and yet it appears barely enchanted.
Better for smuggling.
However, its subtlety was its downfall, ironically. The ability to detect barely any enchantment made savvy shoppers think it was a scam. These never took off, the enchantments died, and legitimate or System-Created versions are worth a large sum to interested parties.