Magical (A Quest of Vacations, or Starsigns, or Something Else)

You lean back and relax against the wall to see the sort of things your classmates can do. The ones called immediately after you are not particularly impressive, and you find yourself zoning out a little, mostly waiting for your friends' names to be called.

---

"Nutmeg Boulderfall," Is the first name to be called that you recognize. Your black-furred vox friend trudges out onto the field, looking less-than-enthused about the whole thing.

"Stand aside," She instructs the teacher, who dutifully steps out of the way. As soon as Sir Mustard is a decent distance away from her, the ground beneath you starts to shake.

Cracks split open, between herself and the class, between her and Sir Mustard, the shape of a circle being etched into the dirt. As soon as the circle is complete, it rises, stopping at about Raspberry-height.

Satisfied with her work, Nutmeg hops off of the platform she made and rejoins the class. Sir Mustard sighs.

"I suppose Biscotti knew the risks, when he gave me permission to use the grounds..." Somehow, you don't think he meant to be loud enough for the class to hear him. With another sigh, he speaks the next name. "...Bel Pepper."

Somehow, this doesn't surprise you at all. Bel leaps up onto the raised platform without a second thought, possibly just for the sake of proving that he can. Not that it's all that impressive. The only one of your classmates that you're friends with who is taller is Caramel.

Like Nutmeg, he turns to address your teacher. "I don't suppose you have any magic dolls lying around?"

"We don't keep combat equipment in the classroom." The reply is deadpan. This conversation has most likely happened before. "And it was always Ketchup's job to program them, anyway..." You file that away as a possible hint to the twins' magical talents, though you're pretty sure you aren't going to get anywhere. From what you can tell, people have been guessing about those two for centuries.

Bel sighs, having clearly expected this answer, but apparently unable to resist the temptation to ask. "I guess I'll do this, then."

He reaches down with his claws, cleanly snips away a blade of grass, which stands out a bit against the reddish-brown of his fur. He holds it out in front of him, lets go, and the blade swirls upwards, trapped in some kind of blustery vortex.

Sir Mustard looks unimpressed. You don't blame him. You're sure that, if he tried, the felin could do something a lot more impressive than this, this is just what he felt like dedicating effort to. But he still reaches over for the list, to keep going down it. Or up it. You aren't sure.

You don't recognize the next person to take the stage, but they seem to share Bel's opinion that Nutmeg's platform is the best place to do a display from. You suppose that's just going to be a thing now.

---

"Caramel Highpitch." You've been sort of waiting for this. Well, not sort of. You'd just plain wanted to see what he'll do. Or hear. Whatever. Sound magic is weird that way.

Your classmate stands on the raised platform, now covered in blooming flowers of all kinds, and he reaches into a large cloth bag, pulling out a lyre as white as his hair.

"What do you think we should play?" He asks the instrument, his mouth forming the impression of another word. A name, most likely, that he would not have received lightly, even if it matters little when he is already the owner of the spirit's home. "...All right, fine, if it'll get you to just shut up about it..." And he plucks at the strings.

It's not a very complicated tune, you think, though you don't know enough about music to be sure. But something about it feels... oddly familiar. Right, in some way, that you'd be hearing this song, now, in this place. There's an odd power to it, almost, but you can't quite say for sure.

Caramel has no sheet music in front of him. This song, that he's playing in tones that maybe don't quite fit his instrument, is something that he can play from memory, even if his words earlier imply that he wasn't all that enthused about it. If this song has no passion behind it... what else could he do?

You guess that, sharing a classroom with him, you're bound to eventually find out.

Even after he stops playing, the song hangs in the air, refusing to fade away just yet, but echoing through the world around you.

---

"Raspberry Dazemirror." As soon as her name is called she's out in front of the platform, scampering forward with her light-blue braid flying behind her. Sadly, she is too small to actually climb up onto the platform.

Still, this does not dampen her enthusiasm one bit as she pulls a small paintbrush and packet of paints out of her pocket. She dips her brush in the red paint and reaches forward into the air, wiggling her brush around and staining the air. Without a canvas, she paints a picture of a red gummy worm, which falls to the ground as soon as the last bit of detailing is complete. She whispers something, and the worm picks itself up, peering at you all from the safety of the grass.

"It's a construct controlled by a Beauty Spirit- more specifically, the spirit of my brush," She explains, as the creature glances around. "It's inedible, will dissolve into water, is very flammable, and will collapse into two dimensions when the spirit leaves it, but I'm sure it will be useful someday! It doesn't even have to be a living creature- the spirit has inhabited a painted car before."

Raspberry sounds very pleased with herself. You suspect that this is the culmination of a great deal of time and effort on her part. It's not like you hadn't known she was dedicated to her art. The very circumstances of your becoming friends has taught you that.

Somehow, you don't think anyone in the class could do anything more impressive than that.

---

You're not sure you can call what happened today a class. Mostly, you just stood around or talked to people. But that's the morning gone, and now you need to figure out what to do with your afternoon.



[ ] Spend time with Raspberry and the others. You think Paprika might be getting dragged in, as well.

[ ] Go to the library. See what there is to find.

[ ] The meditation room could be nice and relaxing...

You aren't entirely sure how you found yourself and Paprika being absorbed into Raspberry's group of friends, but apparently that's a thing that happened. The six of you are enjoying one of the lounges in the student housing area, this one having all the furniture in shades of light red or tan.

Given how the lounge closest to both your own room and Sir Mustard's classroom is in shades of deep green and gold, you aren't entirely certain how you ended up here, but it's very comfortable. And unlikely to hurt your eyes.

Bel and Nutmeg are sitting on opposite sofas. It comes to mind that spending time with the both of them at once might not be the best idea.

"So, what made the two of you decide to join the madhouse?" Caramel asks, his violet gaze attempting to focus on both you and the rabbit girl, but not doing very well because Paprika's on Bel's sofa while you've sunken into a very cushy armchair. He eventually decides to focus his gaze on you, probably to make up for how you can almost blend into the back of your chair.

Paprika blinks. "Madhouse?" You can't tell where Zulian is right now, but she's not panicking, so you assume he's behaving.

"The classroom," Raspberry clarifies. "I still don't know why he describes it like that. I enjoy the atmosphere."

"You would."

"Well, yes. That is, in fact, the reason I am part of Sir Mustard's class. There is always something there that can act as an inspiration."

Bel rolls his eyes. "Before the three of us showed up, she had lots of pictures of windows, desks, and paper airplanes. Also the occasional classroom mishap, but those are more... you don't get them anywhere else." You aren't sure if he's talking about the class in particular, or Will-o-Wisp Academy in general.

"It's a very encouraging environment!" Raspberry insists. "And if we're talking about my reasons, the rest of you may as well join in. See if your reasons are better or worse than mine."

You don't see any problem with this. Neither does anyone else. "Rasp was the only other student I really knew at the time," Caramel admits, gesturing to Bel with one hand, and Nutmeg with the other. "The two of them weren't quite so infamous yet. And it can be... overwhelming, being in a new place, especially when you've never had anything like it before. So I stuck to what I knew."

After this, he glances at Bel, who steadfastly looks away. Nutmeg sighs. "I joined because I was interested in this class' emphasis on teamwork and group projects." At this point, she, too, turns her gaze to the red-furred felin. "He just signed the first piece of paper that he saw, not caring if anyone else was in the way."

You aren't sure if this explains anything. It easily could, but you don't know if you want it to.

Still, Bel doesn't deny anything. Just looks away from everyone and refuses to say a word.

Paprika doesn't seem to notice the awkwardness. "Actually, this class wasn't my first choice," She admits, attracting everyone else's gaze to herself instead of Bel. "I wanted to sign up for Miss Madeleine's, but a human girl with the Starsign of Day got to the last spot before I did. Dunno what her name was, just that it started with a C. But I heard this class has a similar environment, and there was still one spot left, so..." She shrugs, leaning back in her seat. "What about you, Rye?"



[ ] It's like Nutmeg said- you like the idea of group work.

[ ] You enjoy the idea of a relaxed classroom environment.

[ ] There's a theory that Sir Mustard's magical talent involves the Water Spirits, in which case you are perfectly suited to learn from him.

[ ] You like being friends with Raspberry and everyone.

"Well, I heard that Sir Mustard might be able to talk to the Water Spirits." You have no idea if it's true or not, of course, the man has yet to say anything about his talent when you're in earshot, but that doesn't mean it should be discarded. "If it's true, he could be very helpful to me."

"If." Caramel doesn't sound entirely convinced, but then, maybe he's just always like that. He doesn't seem to be very easily impressed. "People have been trying to figure out what his powers are for centuries. Him and Miss Ketchup."

"It could still be worth considering," Raspberry points out. "Our teachers tend not to use magic unless they have to, in order to set a good example for the students."

Caramel blinks. "Then explain Miss Madeleine."

"...Most of our teachers. And we don't really know how Miss Madeleine keeps showing up to places. It might not be magic-related."

"Warp magic drives are still magic," Bel states. He then glances at Paprika. "Oh, speaking of her, had you wanted to be in her class for any reason in particular? I know people like the relaxed attitude and stuff." You get the suspicion that, had he put that much thought into where he wanted to learn, he might have chosen to join her class.

She shrugs, leaning back on the sofa a bit. "Well, it just... it seemed like the thing to do at the time. She was the first person to be hired onto the school staff, at least according to the history books. She would have been present for... just about every important... event... in the school's history. And that's slightly interesting, but... You shouldn't look too deeply into it. It was just a whim."

You find yourself agreeing with that last statement. Why should anyone's reasons for wanting something matter, compared to where they are now? Just being somewhere is the most important thing, you're pretty sure.

Everyone else nods in agreement, and Paprika's decision making process is something that isn't really brought up again. In fact, the conversation is mostly about trivial things, during which Bel and Nutmeg are surprisingly civil to one another.

You guess not even they can fight all the time.

---

It's dark when you wake up. You can't tell if that means the sun has gone out, or if the planet's just not facing it at the moment. Or both. It could be both.

It mostly matters because things run more on a schedule of Starsigns than on the planet's rotation, you have no clock, and you don't see Cocoa or Miss Madeleine around to clarify things for you.

A few moments later, you realize that what woke you up was someone tapping quietly on your door. When you open the door, you see Nutmeg, a light orange glow emanating from beneath her fur.

"What is it?" You ask. It can't be daytime right now, otherwise there'd be people out and about, instead of a single vox standing in the hallway.

Nutmeg shifts in place for a moment, clearly uncomfortable, before looking up at you. "Come on. We need to meet with the others."

"Why?" This doesn't seem like a good time to be out and about, particularly if the cafeteria hasn't started serving breakfast yet.

"I can't say it here." She keeps fidgeting. This is probably a bad sign. "I can't tell you unless you want to come along. But it's about... Something you might want to know." You get the feeling that she wants to explain, but this just isn't the place for it.

What will you do?



[ ] Accompany Nutmeg.

[ ] Go back to sleep.

Well, you've already gotten up, not reason not to follow along. "All... right, then." You let yourself be led through the hall, wondering if you should be treading quietly or not. The carpeting muffles both of your pawsteps pretty well, enabling you to move almost silently through the deserted halls. "Where are we going?"

"The art room. This is one of the nights Mokka takes off for maintenance, so we don't have to worry about him finding us there." Honestly, you don't think Mokka should be your only worry about being up later than you should be, particularly when one of you is glowing. "Though, with the Starsign of Erd active, the others would be able to see him coming."

And the two of you wouldn't, because Nutmeg stands out just as much, even when the dark color of her fur works to obscure the light coming from within.

Besides Nutmeg's Starsign, there is no light in this hallway. She guides you to a nearby staircase, showing no signs of apprehension whatsoever.

"There'll be lights on the lower levels," She whispers to you. "But not a lot of them. Stick to where you can see- it's safer that way."

You actually think that'd be a good way to get caught by any staff member who's out late, but maybe she means physical danger. In which case, that's really something the school should advertise beforehand, even if it only comes out at night.

Still, you've let yourself go along with it, so maybe this isn't the best time to be asking questions.

---

You don't recognize most of the hallways between the stairwell and the art room. Raspberry and Caramel are standing in the torchlight just outside the room, Raspberry holding a glittering key.

"You're here!" Even with a hushed voice, you can hear her excitement. She hands the key to Caramel. "Cara, could you please get the door for me?" It comes to mind that the heights of the doors in the school are, for the most part, not sized to the tiny Envoys of Love.

"Nice to see you remembered I'm here..." He grumbles, but he does as he's told regardless.

Like the hallways, the room is dark, and nobody bothers to provide any sort of light. Still, Nutmeg's Starsign glows bright enough for you to see around the area. The room has four large tables surrounded by chairs, each one set at one of the room's corners. There are shelves covered in all sorts of art supplies, and canvasses set up just about everywhere, though you can't properly judge any of the work in progress when it's all dyed Erd-orange.

There are various posters hung up as well, with various quotes written on them, though you can only make out the wording on the one closest to the door.



The door swings shut behind the four of you, closing with only a soft click despite how quickly it returned to place. You're going to assume that had something to do with Caramel glaring at it. Without saying much of anything, you move to take seats at the southwest corner of the northeast table.

"We could have used a lounge for this..." Caramel mutters. "If Mokka's not about, who could find and stop us?"

"Anyone who would have noticed Nutmeg?" Raspberry suggests. "And I didn't see you volunteering the music room."

"I can't get a key to the music room! I don't even know why you have a key to here."

"My inspiration is not something to be denied." This still explains nothing.



[ ] ...Was there a reason you were asked to be here?

[ ] Seriously, how did she get a key?

[ ] What's with all the quotes, anyway?