Chapter 34: Appointed Hours

on September 25, 2011 in Volume 2 Book 2: The Trouble With Twyla, Volume 2: Sophomore Effort

In Which Mackenzie Goes With The Flow

Having a bed built for two people didn’t change much about the way Amaranth and I slept together. A good night’s sleep underneath her did nothing to change the malaise-y feeling that it should be the weekend. I spent a good five minutes or so when I first woke up thinking about how great it would be if I didn’t have to get up in the morning at all. So much of my academic day for most of the week was now made up of obligations… the survival course the school now mandated, and the combat class I’d agreed to take.

I only had one class to go to I actually liked, and sadly for the ambitions of my laziness, it was the first one of the day.

If I didn’t have to have those I could have filled my schedule with classes I wanted… and maybe I could have even found nothing but afternoon classes. I wouldn’t even have to crowd my schedule with three classes in a row. I was ahead of the game on credits, after all.

I allowed that kind of thought to run around my head until I felt Amaranth shifting above me.

“Ah, sleep,” she said, stretching out luxuriantly as she sat up. “Is there anything more self-indulgent? Well, I mean, when you don’t really need it, I suppose.”

“There’s definitely something about lying in bed when you don’t have to, yeah,” I said. “But maybe doing it when you can’t is even more indulgent.”

“I suppose that’s true… we do have places to be, don’t we?” she said.

“We could skip breakfast,” I said.

That seemed to tempt her. She even laid back down while she thought about it, so I felt rather than saw when she shook her head decisively.

“No, that’s how it starts,” she said. “Sleeping in every once in a while is not the worst thing we could do, but it’s too early in the year to think about that kind of thing.”

I knew she was right… I hadn’t exactly needed her to tell me that, but I had needed her help convincing myself of it, and I suspected she’d needed my help as well. We were using each other as enablers… just for the things we needed to do, not the things we wanted to do.

It was the right decision, too. If we’d stayed in bed another hour or so, we probably would have felt exactly the same when it was time to go to class. As it was, breakfast made a good dent in the Wall of I Don’t Want To Be Here.

“Be sure to tell me at lunch what you’ve decided about Saturday,” Amaranth said to me as we left the cafeteria. “So we can ask them or not, accordingly.”

“Right,” I said, succeeding so hard at not looking like I’d completely forgotten about the decision I was sleeping on.

“I knew you’d forget,” she said, giving my hand a squeeze. “That’s why I’m reminding you.”

I was pretty sure I’d end up telling her I just wanted to go with her, for the simple purpose of not making my life more complicated. With the distance of one night’s sleep I couldn’t think of any really strong reasons not to do a multi-date… but I also just wasn’t really feeling it.

When I thought about going to the dance with Amaranth, I could look forward to it… I could also imagine things going wrong, and there was a feeling of apprehension verging on anxiety even when I didn’t consider any specific possibilities, but that was normal, background-level worry for me.

When I thought about getting everyone involved, though, the background stuff went off the charts. It wasn’t that I was that much more worried about Steff or Ian… it was just the combination.

I didn’t know if my decision would please Amaranth the most, but at least I’d decided it and so didn’t have to worry about spacing it off once class began… or spacing off during class to ruminate on the possibilities. If I did that, I’d miss out on the only really enjoyable part of my schedule.

“I’m sure you will be happy to know that everyone who turned their assignment in on time has received at least a C,” Acantha announced at the start of spellbinding class. “Those among you who earned Bs and As may feel suitably proud. The two people who failed to turn a wand in to me by the stated deadline of three in the afternoon yesterday had their grades lowered one full letter level. You may all come forward to claim your wand and your grade by matching your ticket to the attached tag… hand the ticket to me and I will match it to your grade and record it after class. Make certain your name is written clearly and legibly on the ticket.”

The class at large didn’t look or sound excited at the prospect of mostly Cs. There was no mass rush to find out who’d scored higher. Despite the work I’d put into my binding I felt a little trepidation as I approached the desk where the tagged wands were laid out neatly in rows. This early in the semester it was hard to have a real feel for what a professor was looking for and grading on. One person’s “going the extra mile” was another person’s “what are you, some kind of smart ass?”

The dismayed noises and indignant cries that came from some of the first few students who ventured forward made me even more conflicted. It was easy to dread one’s grade in the midst of evidence that the teacher was a harsh grader… but on the other hand, maybe the operative word there should be “strict” and maybe not everyone had even tried to follow her guidelines. She’d made it clear that some people had done better than a C.

It was only the first assignment, I decided. If I’d done well on it than I had nothing to fear, and if I hadn’t then maybe I could learn what to do for next time. I went forward to claim my wand, which was easy enough to find. There was nothing particularly distinctive about it that I could point out in contrast to any of the other homemade ones that were just twigs stripped of park and shaped a little, but it was mine.

I put my claim ticket down on the desk, grabbed it, and retreated to my table before I dared to look at the note attached to it.

It read:

An entertaining variation. I am uncertain if you fulfilled the letter or the spirit of the assignment, but either way I resolve the question you have hit all marks on one or the other. While the point of the assignment in no way depends on learning and mastering the particular spell that I outlined, in order to prevent the taking of undue shortucts I will reserve the right to demand you demonstrate the understanding of any spell you substitute for in the future if I am not certain you are capable of it. You have more than adequately demonstrated your grasp of the basics of the binding techniques at the core of the exercise.

My heart stuck in my throat a little bit. There was praise there, but it wasn’t unmitigated praise. More than adequate… if a C was adequate, that sounded like a B.

But below that was the grade: 102. Even with her rather exact and precise handwriting, I had to squint to make sure that third digit wasn’t another 0. There was a break down below that showing how I’d earned the points above average, with +2 listed as simply being “extra credit”.

Acantha’s voice whispered in my ear.

“I gave you two extra points for the extra steps you took and for the fact that you finished it in class, but please do not learn the wrong lesson from this and rush everything again,” she said. “It was bold of you to do so when you had time you could have used to ask me how I would receive your attempt. This time you’re being rewarded for boldness. If you want to impress me further, you must next show prudence.”

I nodded. I appreciated the personal explanation about my grade, especially as it came as she was being swamped by people who were demanding an explanation for theirs.

“I don’t understand what I did wrong,” one student said.

“Nothing,” she said. “You will note that I took off no points.”


“You put forth an average effort and you have received average marks,” she said.

“This is bullshit!” another student said.

“I explained my grading scale in advance,” Acantha said, “and I set a clear deadline based on the amount of work it would take me to evaluate each student’s efforts individually, and I was flexible enough to accept several assignments turned in after that deadline.”

“Did anyone get an A?”

“I have said as much on that subject as I am able to,” Acantha said. “Other people’s grades are other people’s business. If you are dissatisfied with yours I will be happy to explain in greater detail how I arrived at that figure or how you may earn a higher one in the future immediately following class or during my office hours.”

“I’d like to discuss my grade now,” the guy who’d questioned her credentials on the first day said.

“If you’d like to thank me for taking the time to grade the wand you rolled through my slot at some time after I left my office at four in the morning, the time to do so is…”

“I want to talk about it now,” he said again.

“Yes, well, you do not set the curriculum,” she said. “It would not be fair to the rest of the class to spend their time discussing your grade, and it would not be fair of you to expect me to drop everything to grade your late homework again in the future.”

“It’s only your job.”

“This isn’t my job, it’s a favor to a friend,” she said. “What is your name?”

I halfway expected him to say “La Belle”, but he said, “Roberts. Gareth Roberts.” He said it with a self-assured smirk, like it was supposed to mean something to her.

“Mr. Roberts, your choices number two: you may sit down and hear the lesson I’ve prepared, or you may remove yourself from the class,” she said. “There is no middle ground between those two options… and if you’re about to ask me if I know who you are, I’m afraid I will have no choice but to embarrass both of us by admitting that I don’t.”

“You’ll be hearing about this,” he said as he re-took his seat.

“Just make certain it’s during my posted office hours and we won’t have a problem,” she said, and she began a more in-depth explanation of the spell-chaining that had been at the heart of the exercise with the wands.

It was a little harder to follow than it might have been… she was clearly rattled by having to defend her grading and her authority, and had defaulted back to reciting whole columns of text in a breathless exhalation.

I wondered if it would make a difference to her if she knew that some of us appreciated her efforts, or if she knew someone among the students would have her back. The problem was that I didn’t know how to let her know that I did… or even how to have her back, once you really got down to it. It would take something like a do-or-die moment for me to stand up to a Gareth Roberts if his attention were focused on me, and I just wasn’t equipped to walk up to Acantha with a friendly smile and a greeting.

Maybe the most I could do was not be difficult and keep trying to impress her. Thinking about it just made me feel even more awkward and impotent.

“We will begin our next assignment Monday,” Acantha said at the end of the class. “I will go over the grading scale in more detail then, with specific examples. If anyone wishes to redo the first assignment and turn it in again, I will average their grades together if the second result is higher, but you cannot expect this courtesy to be extended in the future.”

I thought she was being more generous than she needed to be… even if she wasn’t great at sounding generous… but I also thought it wouldn’t get her a lot of slack from the students who weren’t happy with her way of doing things. I had to admit that I preferred teachers who started from the standpoint of an A being normal and took points off instead of keeping with the idea that C really does mean average, but that was just because it was the approach that was easier for us, not because it was necessarily right.

“So, there’s this dance tomorrow night,” Ian said to me at lunch, just after I’d taken a bite of chicken that suddenly swelled up in my mouth and tasted like nothing. It was just the four of us—him, me, Amaranth, and Steff—at the moment, which I had thought would be perfect for talking about the dance, if he hadn’t had the idea before I was ready to do so. “I was thinking it would sort of be like our anniversary. I mean, our first date wasn’t exactly my finest moment, but I think it’s worth recognizing how far we’ve come, you know?”

I forcibly swallowed the lump of food in my mouth, my gaze slipping sideways to Amaranth. She’d brought up the point that Ian or Steff might make their own plans for the weekend, but the whole time that we’d been talking about the subject, it had never occurred to me that those plans might very well have involved me or the dance.

“Oh, well, if you guys already have plans…” Ian said.

“I don’t know if ‘plans’ are the right word,” Amaranth said, in an impressively neutral voice. “The subject of the dance has come up, but I don’t know if anything definite has been decided.”

“Oh?” Ian said. He looked at me. “Do you think you’ll go, then?”

“I actually got asked by someone else,” I said. “I mean, asked if I would be there. It’s not like a date, and I don’t know if I’d want it to be. My thought was that if I was there with someone else, there might be less awkwardness.”

“Oh, yeah,” Steff said. “The more awkward people get together in one place, the less awkwardness there is. I don’t know how things could get less awkward than that.”

“Well, there’s a thought,” Ian said. “Who says you have to go with just one of us?”

“Unless it’s like that,” Steff said.

“We talked about that,” I said. “And I thought about it. But I really wasn’t sure how the dynamics of a multi-person date would work out.”

“Just as a point of interest, most dates are multi-person,” Steff said. “Unless they’re surrounded by quotation marks and involve a box of tissues and a small jar of oil of slipperiness.”

“Well, okay,” Ian said. “Let’s look at it a different way. Why do you need to go with any of us?”

“I can just say anything right now and nobody would notice,” Steff said.

“We’re all very impressed with your cleverness, sweetie,” Amaranth said.

“Because I don’t want to go alone,” I said to Ian. “And leaving everyone at home if I can’t figure out who to go with doesn’t really seem like the way to avoid hurt feelings and resentments.”

“I’m not saying that anyone stays home, unless they want to,” Ian said. “People go, they don’t go… why does it have to be a matter of ‘going with’ each other, explicitly? We’re all adult-ish… and in theory, being in this relationship… these relationships… whatever… it doesn’t work if we’re trying to stake out territory like a bunch of high schoolers.”

“Says the nineteen-year-old,” Steff said.

“Hey, you’ve got to grow up sometime,” Ian said. “I’m just saying, it seems a little middle school to worry about who’s going with who. I mean, we know who’s involved with who. If some of us show up at the dance, why does it have to be any different from when we all show up at lunch?”

“I think a dance is a little more special than a meal,” I said.

“Okay, it happens less often,” Ian said. “But we’re talking Generic It’s The First Week Of The New School Year Dance sponsored by Campus Something Or Other. It’s not that much of an occasion.”

“You said it was like our anniversary,” I said.

“Not an anniversary-anniversary,” Ian said. “More like a milestone. Anyway, I’m not so much interested in reliving any memories as replacing them with newer and better ones.”

“Well, I think Amaranth and I are definitely going,” I said. “So I guess I’ll look forward to seeing you there.”

“How about you, Steff?” Amaranth said.

“I might drop in,” Steff said. “Just to get a look at the new crazy.”

“The what?” I said.

“I mean the next perfectly well-adjusted individual to take a healthy interest in you,” she said.

“Have I ever mentioned how much your support means to me?” I said.

“I love you, too,” she said.

Two and Dee arrived at the table shortly after that.

“Our apologies for being late but we had an issue arise with our room,” Dee said. “I believe somebody entered it without our knowledge or permission, but it is difficult to excite any interest in this transgression on the part of our resident adviser or the campus guard.”

“Also, a card came for you but it ended up in our mail,” Two said to me after exchanging greetings with everyone. “I was going to turn it in at the counter but Dee slid it under your door.”

“What kind of card?” I asked.

“An appointment card, but I didn’t read it because it wasn’t addressed to me,” she said.

“An appointment card?” I said. “Was it from the healing center?”

“I didn’t read it because it wasn’t addressed to me,” Two repeated.

“It was from Professor Elizabeth Bohd and it directed you to appear in her office at five this evening,” Dee said.

“You weren’t supposed to read it because it wasn’t addressed to you,” Two said.

“My apologies to the recipient, but I have already explained to you that I was not able to not read it,” Dee said.

“Thanks, Dee,” I said. “That’s during my melee class, though. Was there any explanation?”

“None,” Dee said. “The handwritten portions of the document fairly leaped out at me, but they consisted of nothing but your name, room number, and the time and date.”

“She must have figured you’d be done with classes by that time,” Amaranth said. “You’ll have to either drop by during your afternoon break, or send her a message that you can’t make it and asking when she’d like to see you instead.”

“Or, alternately,” Steff said, “tell her to eat a dick.”

“Steff!” Amaranth said. “That’s not called for.”

“What’s not called for is a teacher calling her in on the carpet when she’s not even in any of her classes,” Steff said. “You aren’t, are you?”

“We don’t know that she’s doing that,” Amaranth said.

“Right, we don’t know anything because she didn’t feel the need to explain herself,” Steff said. “She didn’t invite Mack to stop by, she summoned her like a gen… genuine person one would summon.”

“I actually think this does constitute an invitation,” I said. “I mean, we don’t really know each other socially to the point where it would be appropriate for her to just shoot me an a-mail asking me if I want to hang out, and… well, she’s always very professional about things.”

“This isn’t professional, it’s rude,” Steff said.

“I mean, I don’t know if she knows another way to reach out,” I said. “I think she’d be too self-conscious to send me an echo or an a-mail… In her own way, she’s as awkward and gawky as any student.”

I was actually thinking about Dee when I said this. Dee’s stiff and formal manners and the stock she put in things like formal declarations of friendship and explicit invitations weren’t necessarily the same thing as Professor Bohd’s reserved manner, but I thought they shared a common root. Acantha’s torrential lectures could probably be put in the same category.

“What, now professors are more afraid of us than we are of them?” Steff said.

“I agree with Steff,” Ian said. “Bohd’s a big girl, and I don’t believe for one minute she’s afraid of the student body.”

“I didn’t say she was afraid,” I said. “I just don’t think she knows more than one way to relate to students, and that’s as students.”

“But you think she should go anyway,” Steff said.

Ian nodded.

“Because the benefit of standing on how right you are doesn’t measure up to what it could cost you,” he said to me. “You’ve got another three years here. It’s not crazy to think you’re going to need Bohd’s support at some point.”

“It’s not really a debate for me,” I said. “I like Professor Bohd, so I’m not going to blow her off. Maybe I’d like her better if she were a little warmer and less, you know, brusque about things… but there are enough people at this university who would be happy to smile while they kicked me.”

“As a woman in a ‘high magic’ discipline, she’s probably used to having to defend her right to the same respect her peers get,” Amaranth said. “And that’s without even considering her non-human ancestry. I don’t think any of us can judge her for being a little prickly.”

“Oh, come off it, Amy,” Steff said. “You don’t let Mack get away with prickling at people, and she’s got more demon blood than Bohd and she’s been out about it longer.”

“Professor Bohd is only ‘out’ about it in the first place because she wanted to support me,” I said, “and other students in my position. Anyway, it’s my decision.”

“And I’m proud of you for making it,” Amaranth said.

That meant a lot to me, of course… among the things it meant was that now I actually had to follow through with it.

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35 Responses to “Chapter 34: Appointed Hours”

  1. Burnsidhe says:

    “Have you met the Emily center? If one building is…”

    Now that was an awkward interruption. Mack is smart, but she’s also sometimes inattentive. And it’s beginning to seem like something doesn’t want her to notice.

    Current score: 0
    • Stonefoot says:

      I’d have to say this is one of the most esoteric cliff-hangers I’ve seen… OK, read… Anyway, I can see Mack finally learning something useful about ‘the’ Emily. (And maybe finally getting to class on time?)

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      • JN says:

        OK, help. What chapter was the Emily center covered as being a place to meet it, as opposed to just being a place to meet? I have either totally forgotten that, or I missed it in the first place.


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        • Erm says:

          Professor Stone, chapter 18.

          “…and remember to pay your respects to Emily before you leave,” he said, waggling his fingers at a group of girls. “You know she can get a little touchy if she’s feeling ignored.”

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          • Zukira Phaera says:

            maybe this one was the one with an open italic tag – attempting a fix. Hoping it works. (edit) dang this wasn’t it either…. hrm. Yes I’m that ocd.

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          • JN says:


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    • fka_luddite says:

      “Mack! Meet clue by four.”
      Dang, missed again.

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    • Greenwood Goat says:

      Awkward? Convenient, more like. Not for Mack, though. It wasn’t really her fault that she missed the clue-by-four, as Professor Swain blocked it before it could connect. And really, if some of the readership have missed it, what chance has she? I think this source of dramatic tension is going to be played out for a good few more chapters, possibly ending in a showdown. Come to that, if Emily does have an empathic concordance with the other buildings in the campus, maybe she knows about the wall-punching incident, or the destruction of the television. It also makes me wonder how she gets on with Vice Chancellor Embries.

      Eloise’s map is seriously cool. I could play with something like that for hours. If she really wanted to make money, she could make an interface to the public weave and sell advertising on the site. Or, integrating the other thing that she mentioned, how about a ball-based RTS on a pay-to-upgrade model? Blaizzard Entertainment presents: Chaos Wars: Orcs v. Humans >:=)>

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      • Zukira Phaera says:

        commenting to attempt to fix the open code left by a post – so that everyone following isn’t in italics. It seems not to have worked though. Drat.

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      • Lunaroki says:

        Mangled italics = mangled.
        Trying to fix.
        By whatever means necessary.

        But all means have failed.

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      • Greenwood Goat says:

        Yeeesss… I noticed this, but I also remembered, from previous occasions, that the comment preprocessor automatically closes out any open tags in a comment. I checked with Firebug – and it had! But each subsequent para had an italic tag at its start, and a italic close tag at its conclusion – with the exception of commenters’ names, which appeared as normal. I have no idea how this could have happened, and it seemed beyond the ability of any mere commenter to try to fix, so I didn’t. Perhaps it’s a bug that’s going to be fixed in a future release of WordPress.

        …I (inevitably) wonder if it would be possible to affect Emily in this way. Pin up, say, a cartoon by Gustave Verbeek and then find that all the ceilings have become carpeted and the direction signs are now inset in the floors. Or pin up an Escher print and… actually, don’t pin up an Escher print – indeed, don’t allow Escher’s art anywhere near the Emily Centre. Who knows what might happen? >:=)>

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  2. Alyxe Barron says:


    Ooooh, MORE suggestive passages on Emily. It looks like Mack and the druid TA are hitting it off well.

    Current score: 0
  3. Zathras IX says:

    Breakfast can make a
    Good dent in the Wall of I
    Don’t Want To Be Here

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  4. readaholic says:

    Om nom nom. More hints that Mack may fail to pick up as to Emily’s true nature.

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  5. DPO says:

    class -> glass 🙂

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  6. Rin says:

    Just a small sidenote, but the plural of vortex is vortices, not vortexes.

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  7. MacGuyver says:

    Typo alert!
    The violet stuff is ley=lines -> The violet stuff is ley-lines

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  8. anon y mouse says:

    “Though I did find an interesting addition to Professor Swain’s classroom: a circular folding table with a detailed model of the part of the campus around the student union on it was set up on the dais.” – this feels a little clunky to me.

    “The table just has a circular interface to it woven into it,” – a circular interface to the map, right?

    “The violet stuff is ley=lines, though you probably already know that,” – ley-lines?

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  9. Krey says:

    if ley=lines, then ley-lines=0

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  10. Erm says:

    met the Emily Center

    The plot. It thickens.

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  11. Ducky says:

    Why are everyone’s comments in italics?

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    • Zukira Phaera says:

      there’s an open tag hiding somewhere – I tried to fix it by making a couple of replies but either there’s other code making that impossible or its a hiccup somewhere I can’t get at. It is driving me nuts though.

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  12. Stonefoot says:

    OK. Going to try something and see if the italics stop.

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  13. Stonefoot says:

    And if it sticks. (Only in the body of the comment?)

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  14. Miss Lynx says:

    Greenwood Goat’s comment had italics at the end of it, but the closing tag was malformed (slash was after the i rather than before it. Trying /em was a good idea, Stonefoot, but I checked the source and they used the old-style “i” tag instead. I put a closing one of those at the beginning of my comment, so hopefully that’ll do it. We’ll see, I guess. (Also, I think the comments here take standard HTML rather than BBcode, so pointy brackets rather than square ones.)

    Anyway, back to the story: Sounds like Eloise has invented systems theory in the MUverse, or at least is exploring it. Cool – that’s something I’ve always been interested in. Had the opportunity to study it a bit in grad school, since I was in Environmental Studies, which I guess is pretty much the this-world equivalent of being a druid in MU. Hmm, does that mean Eloise is my alter-ego in the story?

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  15. Miss Lynx says:

    Argh! Didn’t work! Checked the source again, and apparently my closing-italics tag was stripped out when the comment was saved. Looks like maybe WordPress’s comment handling is smart enough to delete orphaned closing tags – but not orphaned opening tags. Maybe AE will have to fix the broken closing tag in GG’s comment – I’m pretty sure WP allows admins to edit comments.

    Current score: 1
  16. Stonefoot says:

    When I edit the post the italics go away. When I reload the page they come back. (regardless of the tag) Ugh!

    Current score: 0
  17. Tierhon says:

    Got to love my fellow geeks! “Is broke must fix!!!”

    Anyhoo… love the story and the world building hints in it.

    Current score: 1
  18. Rinikex says:

    The italics appear to be fixed.

    Current score: 0
  19. anna says:

    typo time:

    “The union building, with its big class front”

    big *glass* front, I believe you meant 🙂

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  20. cnic says:

    Local Genius > genius loci > protective spirit of a place

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  21. Lesath says:

    This chapter is still tagged with the tags of the chapter that used to be here!

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  22. Kiraya says:

    Hah, I’ve been in Mack’s place in Acantha’s class before. It’s an awkward feeling.

    It’ll be interesting to see how this dance goes… would it be too much to hope for the evening to go smoothly?

    I’m really curious about what Bohd wants. Can’t wait to find out!

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  23. BMeph says:

    Typo alert:
    “twigs stripped of park”
    While this is an awesomely clever way to refer to a stick taken from
    its normal growing/resting area, I suspect this line should actually read, “twigs stripped of bark

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  24. pedestrian says:

    “I mean, asked if I would be there. It’s not like a date, and I don’t know if I’d want it to be. My thought was that if I was there with someone else, there might be less awkwardness.”

    “Oh, yeah,” Steff said. “The more awkward people get together in one place, the less awkwardness there is. I don’t know how things could get less awkward than that.”

    Hilarious, Alexandra I don’t know how you keep coming up with these gems!

    “Our apologies for being late but we had an issue arise with our room,” Dee said. “I believe somebody entered it without our knowledge or permission, but it is difficult to excite any interest in this transgression on the part of our resident adviser or the campus guard.”

    KHeez,someone needs to put a drill sergeant’s boot up those dullards collective ass. After last year, you’d think that MU admin would have issued strict instructions on any possible contact with the Subterranean Heir Apparent. And filing the report on orb should of set off screaming alarms that the two young ladies were sharing a suite with a Divine Nymph and Mack the Knife, Flaming.

    Very sloppy procedure. I am surprised that Stef the Paranoid and Ian the Heroic Bard didn’t go ballistic. Oops I mixed science into the magic, me bad. Come to think of it I would also think that TWO would be inundating the desk sergeant with campus rules & regulations and official procedures.

    Dee comes from a society that practices assassination as a cross between efficient promotion and high art. She should be on the eye-mirror to her embassy.

    Mackenzie should be on the eye-mirror to her attorney. He could get professional bodyguards to them faster then the embassy could get permission.

    Failure to act on a complaint this potentially threatening would really make the school look bad in front of the Arbiter. That they were still failing to meet even minimally reasonable standards of safety and sense of security for non-human students in their dorm rooms.

    Current score: 0