Isaac found himself pondering the absolutely schizophrenic levels of technology present in the world he'd found himself occupying so many months ago as he watched the crudely rendered representation of a cartoon rabbit made out of simple geometric forms zipping across a wireframe environment. That was Oleksandra's avatar in these cyber games. Her body was sitting in a meditative posture next to the massive computational machine with a full bay of light disk ports built into the face. Since she couldn't digitize herself like her Videogirl opponents she had to jack in with her BATTLE template interfacing.
Oleksandra's technician acquaintance had informed her of an open invitational for an equally underground cyber games association. It was like a mix between brute force hacking and virtual reality combat with the monolithic server machine serving as the battleground. The technician thought her template granted capabilities could prove potent and Oleksandra was ever eager to experiment with new methods of utilizing her capabilities.
As far as Isaac could tell from watching the display, she was putting up a good fight but on the back foot. This was the fifth match she participated in, the last one open to her for the day. Isaac was getting used to interpreting the graphics displayed for the audience. It was primitive, so far as displays went. Something that, if encountered in his native time and world, would have predated his own life. Like the very first home consoles for computer games.
Oleksandra's bunny avatar was composed of an entire twenty-one polygons, all the same orange as the fur on her ears with an extremely basic texture giving it a recognizable face. That was ignoring the additional twenty-some that constructed her 'weapon', a hammer that she was using to smash through barriers that represented the layers of her opponent's defenses. Oleksandra had described her perspective from within the cyberspace as best that she could, it sounded like scenes from the film Tron. That made sense, when one considered it was the world of the Videogirl breed.
The chatter from the other spectators was intensifying and the Bytebitch acting as commentator declared, "That's the last of LexiLepus' firewalls. It looks like our rabbit-eared challenger is going home skunked!" Isaac switched his attention to the other display just in time to see Oleksandra's 'core' explode in a spray of pixels. The geometric bunny broke apart in the exact same way.
Isaac made his way over to the Battle Angel who was returning to the material world with a twitch of her right ear and fluttering of her eyes. "Hey Leksya, good try."
Oleksandra gave one of her subdued smiles. "It was. I had breached eighty-seven percent of her defenses before she secured victory this time. Considering the disparity in experience between my opponent and myself, I believe a victory will be inevitable if we were to engage in another set." Oleksandra then smirked. A very tiny and subtle expression. "I also accomplished my goal for the match, which was not contingent upon securing victory."
"What was that," Isaac asked his unusually smug steel type. Unusual in that she was displaying any at all.
"The Videogirl breed possesses the capacity to alter their body by modifying the code for their physical avatars. This can be accomplished by the Videogirl herself or by an external user with the proper knowledge." The smirk grew as the Videogirl she'd just lost to materialized from her light disk. This particular Videogirl had some rather condescending remarks about Leksya's ears and the implications they produced regarding her intelligence.
Now she had a pair of bunny ears of her own.
The audience erupted in cheers and laughter as the victorious data pokegirl grabbed ahold of the two new appendages and made a choking sound before rounding on Oleksandra. "What- How?"
Oleksandra's ears were upright and still as she responded. "During our fourth match I discovered a port that allows for backend access into your physical manifestation parameters. You dedicate all of your processing to offense because the game does not permit direct action against the opponent. You leave yourself vulnerable. I created a backup of your preferred state if you find the upgrades not to your liking." The Videogirl retreated into the massive computer to fix her ears and Isaac and Oleksandra made their way out of the clubroom. It was in a sublevel of a leased office building in Kyiv and the entrance opened into a side alley. The location, the people, the lighting, the joyless industrial music, the sale and trade of bootleg media, still just a bit sketchy to Isaac, but that always was the appeal of these sorts of scenes.
Oleksandra's ear twitched and suddenly she asked, "Was my retaliation proportional? I observed that psychological warfare is a component of how they engage in competing."
Isaac thought for a moment. "She won't be stuck like that?"
"She will not. Applying another change is trivial and reverting would not be complicated for her even without the backup files I created. I did publicly expose a critical vulnerability in her person."
"I'm not really sure, I guess it'd depend a lot on how she feels about it."
"I am unable to speculate given the personality profile currently compiled."
Isaac turned his head to focus on his BATTLE Battle Angel. "I wasn't expecting you to, Leksya."
Isaac sent a message intended for Jin to Elena's phone. Should he save up for a device for his girls? One for each of them or just one for when they separated? That would take more feral hunting either way. Jin was working on crafting talismans and Neasa was out with Luljeta and Golloriel while Isaac and Oleksandra attended the open virtual competition. Now they needed the Enchantress to get them back to Slov'yanka. There was a small park not too far away that they used when teleporting to the conservatory as well, so the two made their way there.
Back in the alley, a metallic skinned pokegirl exited the same building that housed the games and began following Isaac and Oleksandra's trail.
-
Elena stared icily at the newcomer who had arrived an hour after Jin returned with Isaac and Oleksandra from their computer games in Kyiv. She was another tech breed. That was obvious from her robotic physiology and the fact that she arrived by flying with a suit of armor very similar to the one Oleksandra's BATTLE template offered the Battle Angel. What had put Elena on edge though was the name she introduced herself with.
Beru. Beru the Zeromer with the Martian Office of Science. She wanted to speak with Oleksandra.
Elena had suggested Isaac take the opportunity to practice perceiving through their delta bond while Oleksandra observed with her own magnified perceptions. He wasn’t sensing any hostility from the pokegirl he found himself referring to as Beru 2.0. Elena was as relaxed as Elena became around intruding strangers, just frosty and rigid enough to produce that charming crispness and occasional unguarded moment as she fixed her hair.
Why was she so calm? Because she had devised a way to twist a sensor plant so that it could interpret signals from her radio detection spell. If the grafts were accepted with the host plant, they remained operational for 153 hours. It didn’t provide an interpretable signal, but spun somewhere in the magic flowing through Elena’s domain was a representation of the local radio airwaves. Having her detector be a living organism meant it was able to acclimate to persistent stimuli, novel signals produced a larger spike than familiar.
Golloriel had a great deal to say about them, in a louder and shriller voice than suited the language purpose built to evoke ancient sophistication. No one was fluent enough to translate competently except to state what her fearful and disgusted tone already made obvious. She’d been unfortunate enough to come across one right about to burn out and her outrage came from the assumption that the plants were under such stress perpetually.
She had calmed down enough to help Elena brainstorm further extensions to the longevity of the grafts.
So Elena wasn’t detecting any reason to raise her guard either when Oleksandra armored up and stepped outside.
Her head and tail were uncovered and the plates were all much thinner than when she was entering combat. Thinner and form accentuating. The lines suggested the high cut, sleeveless leotard she sometimes formed with metallic under mesh tights. She also had plates evocative of detached sleeve cuffs and a shirt collar with a bowtie. Oleksandra had devised a parade configuration for her armor. And it drew on classic bunnygirl outfits for inspiration. “Beru the Zeromer was killed by Interdiction agents deployed from Frontier. I possess the memories of her death.”
"As do I," this second Beru replied. "You are correct. I did die and released my nanites as part of the Zeromer breed's contingency protocol. Those nanites bonded with you, Oleksandra, preserving my combat capabilities and a compressed backup of my memories. Another part of the protocols is a total memory upload to Martian satellite networks. My memories were loaded into a new body and I live again to continue serving the Martian Colonial Council and the Office of Science."
Elena's eyes narrowed as her eyebrows furrowed. Astoreth had shared what she overheard the two Gunvalkyrie discussing. This Office is Science had sent the Zeromer Beru down to Earth on a suicide mission as nothing more than a ploy to distract the Office of Security from their true goal. She doubted this Beru knew that with the dutiful way she explained her presence and purpose.
Isaac hadn’t moved past his pondering what the “OffSci’s” opinion on incorporeal ghost pokegirls might be, and then if perhaps any Zeromers had evolved into Astral Zeromers or Spectra, and then what would the Martians scientists think about that?
Oleksandra was standing with a slight openness to her posture and her ears and tail were high. “You would not be revealing yourself openly if you did not receive instructions to do so. What is your purpose in contacting me?”
Beru 2.0 closed her eyes and held in a breath serenely. “I come for a multitude of purposes, some at odds with each other. The Zeromer is a breed developed for the purpose of reconnaissance using Martian biomechanical and gene altering technology. We gather intelligence for Mars, even after we expire. You are aware that you are transmitting data signals intermittently. These are compressed intelligence packets that will be uploaded onto the Office of Science satellite network.”
Oleksandra’s ears fell back and her tail puffed up. “I request an explanation for how I may terminate these signals.”
Beru 2.0’s eyebrows rose and her mouth dropped slack without breaking the seal of the lips. “I will transmit your request to the proper personnel. You may trust that we respect the privacy of you and those around you. However, your feed has garnered some attention thanks to the unique capabilities you are demonstrating with your weapon and armor systems.”
“My capabilities are unique?”
“So far as we have observed. The Office of Science as a whole is very interested in more direct study. I represent the office as a whole as well as an opposition faction to the current consensus that you should be abducted to-” Oleksandra’s armor expanded into its combat configuration and Beru 2.0 armored up in response. If it wasn’t for the rabbit bits and body proportions Isaac didn’t see much of a visual distinction. No guns were out. “I am here to negotiate a course of action that will make that plan obsolete,” Beru 2.0 said evenly except for the tinny distortion of her voice.
Oleksandra’s visor popped open as her ears stood back up and she turned to look towards Isaac through the window. Oh yay, it was time for him to play decision maker again.
The deal was simple, straightforward, and rationally presented. Mars had been busy cultivating connections with Earth-born scientists and scientific labs. One of these research establishments was what was most often jokingly referred to as 'The G-Spot,' a clandestine facility dedicated to the research of any G-Splice pokegirl discovered and captured within the Sapphire League. They would be able to take the necessary samples which would then be handed off to an agent of the Office of Science for expedited transport to Mars. They also wished to record Oleksandra transforming her systems using a variety of instruments. The data, recordings, and samples would then serve as a bargaining chip by the faction Beru 2.0 was aligned with to gain a stronger foothold while scaling the walls of the ivory tower.
In return, the Martian Office of Science would assist Oleksandra in understanding the BATTLE template further. Besides the broadcasts Leksya wanted turned off there was also the mental influence of the template she was contending with. Beru 2.0 left her with one kernel of knowledge to nibble.
The emotional control offered by the BATTLE template worked by tipping the brain's mental balance towards the rational and away from the emotional based on the assumptions of the host. This process activated based on amygdala activity, a structure of the brain found between the complex rational lobes and the primeval centers of the brain stem.
If, purely hypothetically, a pokegirl hosting a BATTLE template had an unconventional perspective on herself and her own psychology, perhaps one filled with memories of danger and hardship and little sexual enjoyment, then she could, possibly, misinterpret her own sexual arousal. It was, after all, a physiological process with the same beginning impulses of angry and fearful arousal. Given that assumption, well then the BATTLE template may improperly activate it's emotional control if she became turned on during intimate activities.
Oleksandra's ears were quivering as Beru 2.0 turned to fly away. She stood silently watching the Zeromer disappear for a long time, her expression not giving any clues to her mood. "She is now outside of the range she could pick up audio signals within the conversational decibel range," she finally stated. Oleksandra turned to face Isaac. "I want to disable these broadcasts as soon as possible. I do not wish to be an unwitting double agent for Mars."
"It's not…" No, holy shit Oleksandra was exactly what she said. "We'll figure it out." Isaac put an arm around her.
An ear flicked towards him. "I would also like for you to check out a restraining system for taming a pokegirl of my strength rating. There are experiments I wish to conduct."
-
"G-good morning, Mizz Elena." Zsanett stuttered out her greeting from behind the front receptionist's desk. Zsanett was a Tarot Elena had tutored twenty, was it twenty? Something like twenty years ago. She always tried to sound a little extra cheerful whenever Elena was called in unexpectedly. Unexpected summons from the conservatory board were never pleasant for the Grandelf. Managerial worms through and through, they only interacted with Elena's sort if they had identified a correction they wanted to see.
She received a few more greetings than usual. Nervous, restrained, but sympathetic greetings. Word spread through the offices, everyone here probably knew why she'd been called in, at least to some extent. She'd gotten fairly competent at guessing the severity of the pompous tongue lashing she'd receive by how her colleagues treated her as she marched to her fate. The most telling though were the responses from those who weren't her professional friends. The ones who were doing their best to make sure they wouldn't be stuffed in the same pigeon hole labeled 'trouble maker' that she had always been relegated to.
They had the sort of demeanor appropriate for witnessing an execution. The execution for someone they didn't care much for, or would miss at all.
This was going to be bad. Elena took a slow breath, chilled her nerves, fixed her hair, and trudged on.
The Sapfirova Konservatoriya Chaklunstva's governing board was composed of twelve seats. Most of the members of the board had been playing musical chairs for decades. The same bodies around the same set of furniture, just in different spots every time the music stopped. Never was a chair pulled away to force them to try to earn their spot.
The chairman was Gyuri Hrusheveskyi, he was the master of musical chairs. Elena had been suffering his presence longer than she'd been contacted by Mr. Borysov at the ranch. Thirty years… He was too aged and meek to own and care for pokegirls anymore, sunken eyed and jowel cheeked. That was okay, his money could buy him more capable protectors who were professional enough to almost be as motivated by his well-being as a real harem.
There were the five appointees. Five vultures perched on their bough, waiting for their turn to descend and gorge. Petru Skoropadskyi, Tudor Vynnychenko, Nika Petilura, Edvard Livytskyi, and Yaroslava Kravchuk. Tudor had been there even longer than Chairman Hrusheveskyi while Edvard was the least senior at a mere five years. Of course, he'd taken the seat of his father as soon as the old man stepped down.
Three representatives for the faculty. Those three were Elena's favorites. Administrators she could understand being out of touch, they lacked the perspective. Praskoviya Mistic was Petru’s by her bond so Elena could at least understand that betrayal. The other two, Oktyabrina Enchantress and Ilike Imp... They were merely watching out for number one. Raised up high so they'd have further to fall if they turned on the administration. Elena reminded herself she didn't hate them, she hated their complacency.
Leonid Yushchenko was from the Sapphire League department of education. A cushy position for a dog that enjoyed having many laps to curl up in.
The principle of the conservatory, Rugile Kuchma. Elena remembered fondly the first year after she had been appointed. There had been a burst of reinvigorating energy when the young and still naive educator had assumed her role. That was seven years in the past and (principle's) righteous edges had all been ground down so she fit snuggly in besides the rest now.
The last three, Viktor Chornovil, Yulia Poroshenko, and Volodymyr Turchynov, they were bureaucratic flunkies from some higher power or another. Keep things in line, keep their pockets lined.
No one here, in this room with her, was on her side. The side that just wanted to push the best to be the best so they could improve the lives of everyone below them. Wasn't that the whole purpose of what her and Izaak had built? Wasn't that what she dedicated so many lonely years to?
She stood alone facing them, their large, modern table, their plush, high backed chairs. They didn't have a chair for her. They were the judge and jury. She was the accused. What did they accuse her of today?
Chairman Hrusheveskyi began with, "Miss," and already Elena fought not to react. Mizz. Not Miss. A miss was young, innocent, naive, unattached. She had belonged to a man. A good man. A man who deserved to have his impact on her and their and everyone else's lives remembered even if it was a single, silly sound. "Elena Hrandelf." Elena felt like screaming as this routine dressing down continued. They'd never use her adoptive family name. Their resentment held their tongues. They had all failed to earn the same prestige.
"First of all, we have a letter here from the offices of Boyko & Khmelnystsky." That was the legal firm Elena had on retainer. The chairman held up an unsealed envelope. Her name was on it but it wasn't addressed for postage delivery. The small parcel was slid down the table to her.
The harsh tone of Elena's voice was reduced by her focus being on the words and her head tilted down. "This should have been delivered directly to me…" Elena finished scanning the contents. She was unrepresented yet again. "This says they can no longer take me as a client due to the severity of allegations brought to their attention. What allegations?"
Gyuri answered. "Your… unusual relation with a student currently enrolled here has come to our attention."
Elena's ear almost flicked like Oleksandra's. That was an easy barb to avoid. They would not be so pleased with themselves if that was all they had. "I declared my relationship with Isaac Markiyan before he enrolled. I do not instruct in any capacity so there is no risk of a conflict of interest even now that he is." Besides, Nika had three students joining him in his bed on occasion. He hadn't declared anything. Hypocrites…
Gyuri stared impassively and his mouth started to drop in a frown. Leonid sitting right beside him picked up the metaphorical baton. "Yes, there is no technical issue with your relationship, however…" A folder was produced from within a briefcase. "We've received many complaints regarding Mr. Markiyan's behavior. Several students have repeatedly stated they feel unsafe with him in the classroom. Iacob Chornovil reported to me that Miss Vasylova is frequently a target of his harassment. His views are unusual, quite frankly hateful, and not in standing with those of the school. The board is in agreement that these continued disruptions and other offenses are enough to warrant his expulsion. However…"
Elena's heart ached from the biting cold. She believed she'd thought of everything. Every angle they could attack her from. Every source of leverage they could use against her to pry her grip free from the school.
She never thought they'd target someone else to get to her. She didn't have anyone within their reach until only a short time ago.
Education Secretary Yushchenko continued with a smug pull on the corner of his mouth. "We have reason to believe that Mr. Markiyan's beliefs are not truly his own. Criticisms of our inclusive curricula, a harsh stance against pro-parity reforms, disrespect towards our part time faculty, these are all echoes of your beliefs coming from a young man who you provided foster care for while he was underage… You must be aware of how this appears, Miss Hrandelf."
"Isaac…" Elena couldn't filter out the words she needed through the sheer volume of her internal screaming. "Isaac is a… remarkably gifted… he earned the recognition of the staff of the Zaporyzhzhia Vorona Academy. I do not… We've never discussed my feelings… He isn't hateful, he is one of the most considerate… insightful…" Elena was in the middle of a struggle session defending a man she was romantically entangled with. A little exaggeration on her part could be forgiven. "You're willing to cast out such a brilliant mind on the words of children and Viktor’s nephew. An instructor at the league's only school of magic when he doesn't even apply himself enough to conjure a light globe," Elena's voice cracked a little from the laughter she felt building somewhere deep within her.
It was honestly funny. Silly. Amusing in an absurd way. It was all so predictable. It was the same mistakes, over and over again. Theirs and hers, all of them stuck in this continuous dance of reacting to reactions.
Elena would have had better luck convincing the blocks of the wall behind her. Viktor Chornovil sneered at seeing her so rattled. "We have to do what is best for the school. Mr. Markiyan's opinions are unacceptable and counterproductive to the mandate of this institution."
"The mandate of this institution is to teach the gifted!" Elena's control had slipped. She tucked a lock back behind her ear, her ear that was burning from the humiliation she was enduring and the agonizing effort it took to maintain stillness. "Isaac has said nothing that Izaak Tchenko-Vrach wouldn't have whole-heartedly endorsed." Her voice sounded pleading to her. Before she would have rather skewered these pigs on ice spires than beg but she wasn't begging for her own sake.
"Please," Principle Kuchma rolled her eyes. "Spare us another lecture on the virtues of your grooming victims, past and now present. We are not so afflicted with nostalgia for the primitive and ignorant past." She produced an item, an ornamental plaque that had sat on the mantle of the principle's, of Izaak's office. The original school logo and the original slogan marked with brass inlay cut into dark marble. Izaak had crafted it for himself to adorn an otherwise empty desk they'd scavenged together. It belonged to Elena, she'd inherited it from him when he died. He left all of his school things to her and she permitted the school to display them because… Because maybe some part of Izaak still lingered in them. Maybe through them the shipwright could correct the course of the vessel he built so long ago.
She groomed Izaak? That was so absurd. He was always what he had always been. She only discovered him. He had shaped her into what she was today. Every gentle, laughing correction. Every squeeze of the hand to calm her down. Every precious little thing that he did for her to help her learn to thrive among these self-assured, smug, selfish, slack-jawed simians.
Rugile turned the plaque over in her hands. "The board would prefer to see you resign from your position, but we will terminate your position if necessary. You have nothing to gain by resisting this decision. If nothing else, do the reasonable thing to spare young Mr. Markiyan from getting himself further entangled in your disgrace. He will become involved otherwise and a preliminary glance has brought some matters regarding his legal documentation into question."
Elena was clenching her teeth and had her cheeks pulled tight against her jaws from the suction in her mouth.
It wasn't worth the risks. It wasn't worth the risks. It was all she could do to repeat it to herself over and over. It wasn't worth the risk of falling afoul of the courts. It wasn't worth the risk of exposing Isaac to scrutiny. It wasn't worth the pain and struggle to keep clinging on.
But she couldn't let go. She remembered this room when the walls were bare and the ceiling timbers exposed. She remembered the triumph of every opening ceremony for a new building. She remembered all the times the conservatory played host for an international authority or convention on the magical arts. She could still see his fingerprints everywhere but she was the only one.
"Miss Hrandelf, we have no need for this any longer. Nor do we have need for you." The plaque was handed over to her and she took it with mechanical hands.
Gyuri then made one last remark. "It's time to be free of the past and its lingering stains."
The Grandelf stared straight at the conservatory president and board members individually for an agonizing length of time each. Then she started to chuckle and combed her fingers through her bangs, letting the hair fall down in front of her eyes. There was no point holding back any more. She couldn’t convince them. There was no argument she could make. They didn’t care for the truth. They didn’t care how it would impact anyone besides themselves. They were already sure that they were in the right.
No point at all, they had won. She had tried and tried to play along but they were never happy without total victory. They had won and she had lost the school completely.
There was really nothing left of what they'd built together. There hadn't been for so long. Just a hollow shell, a skin suit worn by the ignorant, lazy, parasitic monsters that killed her- her master's school.
Her laughter grew into a cackle before she suddenly snapped out aggressively. “You are all nothing! You dare sit there and pretend it was by your hands these halls were built?” All across the school grounds leaves started to rustle in a suddenly cold wind. “You have done nothing but tear this institution down since the moment your atrophied asses fell into those chairs. You content yourselves thinking you’re the better scholars because you can regurgitate more facts that were all discovered and verified before you were even born! You have contributed nothing to this world! You would be dumb and blind to the world of magic if not for what my Izaak did for you all!” She sucked in a tiny breath to replenish her depleting lungs. She returned to a speaking tone. “Rot in your ivory tower as it sinks further into the morass of your hubris and may something worthwhile soon grow from your carcasses.” Her voice was a hiss for her final verbal lash, it was becoming painful to squeeze the air through her throat. After taking a deep breath she snatched Izaak's commemorative plaque and stormed out of the doors, leaving a drafty wake of cold air behind her.
They'd have a reason to fire her that had nothing to do with Isaac now.
Isaac. He was waiting for her at her home. He was steeping a cup of herbal tea.
He'd obviously sensed her ordeal through the bond. She couldn't go to him yet, she needed him to wait for her until after a short detour. She teleported away. Away to somewhere she hadn't been in decades. Somewhere cold and lonely, a place high up in the mountains of the Azur League.
She screamed into the wind and listened to it howl back at her. Her oldest friends. The cold and empty air, mounds of ice, and unfeeling black stones. She squeezed as much anguish into two tears as she could and then prepared to teleport home to a warm cup of tea, a warm blanket and chair, a warm embrace.
She stared out at the tranquil bleakness for one more second. She wouldn't offer up her heart to the glaciers just yet.
-
Elena took a sip of wine as she watched Isaac reading to Pazuzu and Oleksandra. He was attentive, protective, instructive.
Across the bond Isaac perceived something that to him was a sound. A subaudible bass rumble that put him on edge with anticipation.
When Isaac looked up from the pages towards her, Elena buried the feelings that were bubbling up and turned her attention back to those gathered at the table. Astoreth was hosting her, Lieutenant Maia Bramahe-Vorona, and Miruna Wet-Elef to discuss recent developments at the conservatory. Elena getting sacked, preliminarily, but the topic drifted as they always do.
"If you keep staring with that hungry look in your eyes, he might spook and run," Miruna chided the Grandelf pokewoman teasingly.
Elena's ears made a small jig. "He's good with children," she answered as if defending herself from an accusation. Isaac probably wouldn't claim to be good with kids, he always felt a little nervous interacting with them. Nervous energy could be channeled into productive tasks though, and paying attention to kids took a lot of energy. If he didn't think he was good with kids because he was aware of his own internal logic but observers did believe he was good with kids, then what was the truth?
Elena returned her full attention to those gathered at the table.
"Elena, why did you never tell us how bad things had gotten? We would have spoken to the board on your behalf. You don't have to always face these things alone." Maia had a frown on her lips and concern in her eyes.
Elena clicked her tongue out of annoyance with herself. She did not have a good answer to the question. She was also perturbed by all of this unsolicited compassion. Then she was frustrated with herself again for reverting to her cold and lonely way of thinking when these were her friends here to help her and the most gratitude she could muster was reluctant at best.
The curse of her formative years, she supposed. "Well, this was all rather out of the blue for me. I could have been better prepared if they hadn't withheld the letter letting me know I was dropped by Boyko & Khmelnystsky…" Elena established eye contact with Astoreth to convey the unspoken question.
"No, it wasn't technically legal but you're not going to find a judge in Kiev that will do anything about it." Astoreth, living in the furthest East reaches of the league, used the Russian name for the capital city. The East was where the most ethnically Russian people lived since their ancestors had been relocated there by the tsars and the soviets.
"I also can't think of a firm that would both be capable of contending with the conservatory's legal team and willing to take you on." Free pokegirls couldn’t represent free pokegirls. Maybe in another hundred years…
"It's fine, Star. It was only a matter of time before they won. I was being a fool thinking I had any real chance to bring them around. It's so obvious now…"
Maia sighed, straining the front of her jacket just like Chandrakanta would her blouses. "We've been ignoring the signs too. Isaac isn't the only cadet we've sent to the conservatory to clash with their peculiar expectations."
Miruna chimed in, "I don't expect this to sit well with most of the faculty either. We've been quiet about our reservations up to this point because no one wants Iacob’s favorites forming a mob outside her office. One of them threatened to chain me up in his basement and tame me until I came around to supporting pokegirl rights." The Starlady massaged her forearm with the other hand with a distant look on her face. "Later, someone… someone would follow me to my apartment. I took the year off to get away from it all."
Astoreth scowled and growled low in her throat, which put the moods of the two other pokegirls at the table on a nervous edge. They knew Astoreth by reputation and recognized her obvious infernal influence. "Nel," The blue skinned Hild’s voice held a lot of scorn for a single syllable. Elena scowled at the infernal's perceived condescension, "You are the executor of the Tkachenko estate. The board bent you over their fancy conference table and tamed you raw. You want them to learn their lesson, you want them to treat your colleagues with a little more fear and respect? You want them to put those miserable student activists in their place?" Astoreth produced a list of items that she offered the Grandelf. Her eyes narrowed to challenging slits. "Reciprocate."
Elena scanned through the list. Expensive, prestigious items Izaak had gone to heroic lengths to acquire for the conservatory in its dawning years. They were little more than exhibit pieces now. "I have nowhere to store these, Star. I'm not going to risk damage to priceless antiques just to satisfy your vengeful streak." She pushed the list away.
"Not mine," Astoreth slid the list back. "Your vengeance. If not yours, Izaak's." Elena glared with dangerous intensity. Astoreth only smirked. She knew the Grandelf too well to accept this facade of acceptance. The infernal sweetened the pot. "I worked that up eighty years ago the last time the administration was up your ass. Everything there they have no hope of contesting."
Elena studied the list with more intent focus. Her eyebrows lifted minutely as she folded it up to fit in her breast pocket. "Maia, what about the academy? I appreciate you standing with me but it's not worth risking the conservatory pulling out their support for the magic program."
Maia shrugged. "We've been working on becoming accredited for undergrad ourselves for the past ten years. Perhaps this is a sign to follow through."
Miruna took a sip of wine with a thoughtful expression. "That still leaves the conservatory as the only graduate level magical school in the league. If the administrators feel that the Voronas have slighted them by expanding The magic studies program offered by the academy, it could jeopardize the prospects of your most promising learners."
Maia shrugged again. "Then we build our own graduate program. We can't entrust the future of arcane knowledge of the league in the hands of greedy administrators and radicalized adjunct faculty."
Elena was thoughtful for a moment but allowed herself to become distracted watching Isaac again. Pazuzu was perched on his lap 'reading' to him. The pokekit was narrating a nonsensical tale based on the pictures which was causing Oleksandra no end of confusion.
Elena found her thoughts pulled away from revenge and institutions. Maybe it was time to let it all go, maybe this was an opportunity to fill the sudden hole in her life with something new. Elena wasn't sure, she couldn't feel sure after the three parthenogenetic litters she'd given birth to. Small litters, two, three, and two again. Her oldest, she was blessed with the chance to raise them into adulthood with Izaak. Her youngest were over half her age now. There was a clear and obvious difference in the development of their psyches. The youngest two were so much less resilient than their older sisters.
She couldn't bring herself to have more daughters, not in this depressingly ignorant world. She felt like she had failed them. Failed to provide them with adequate male role models. That was different now. Failed to stave off the hate and ignorance of the world. That was still the same. There was no practical way by which she could shelter them from the malevolent influence of the society the humans had dictated pokegirl kind be a part of. Maybe that was why she was so focused on fighting these miserable battles.
She had told Chandrakanta maybe in a year or two, but maybe she wouldn't wait. She started to rehearse what she would ask in her head. Seven words simply couldn't be enough.
(-[|]-) End 15.3 (-[|]-)
'Isaac, you have guests riding up the walkway to the house.'
Isaac turned his attention towards front of Elena's home, although he couldn't see through the building. He was debating staying enrolled in the conservatory. At first he wanted to drop out immediately but Elena pointed out it was too late to get his tuition and fees refunded. So much for the credits earned selling all those Buzzbreasts to an apiary.
Jin had a much more devious reason for him to stick things out. There was a combat tournament held right before the harvest break, one Jin was sure she could win. The conservatory students and their pokegirls weren't fighters. Jin was sure she was.
Elena was amused by the idea and Isaac honestly found the possible schadenfreude alluring as well. Then Elena reminded him that he'd technically made himself her apprentice and she suddenly had much more time to act as his mistress in studies. Her first task for her pupil was figuring out his marketable skills. The three and a half centuries experienced Grandelf declared that Isaac didn't pay enough attention to financial matters.
So that's what Vardan and Catalina were interrupting when they rode up to Elena's house on Ponytaur-back. Isaac felt a burst of thoughts from somewhere inside Elena's head when introductions were exchanged. 'Vardan is engaged to one of the Dragulescu girls?'
'Yeah, why?' Isaac responded across the bond.
'They used to run a school that rivaled the conservatory before the PLC and Vale concocted the current accreditation scheme. With the right help though… It would only take a year or two…' Elena's thoughts trailed off into a flow Isaac couldn't interpret. Something had caught her attention though, particularly that part of her responsible for scheming.