Private Barracks/Imperial Condos Completed Occult Division Two wizards under one roof

[Rosmakh W. Dowganosyv]

Dear Nevali,

Please allow me to introduce myself, and accept my appologies if my name and work is already familiar to you. I am Professor Rosmakh W. Dowganosyv, a fellow researcher in the occult, mystical and esoteric, ancestrally from the icy land of Fiador, Corporially from the Northlands, but be assured my spirit isn't bound to either of those. I have moved to Bully harbor very recently, and haven't gotten a chance to make a name for myself yet or meet other beasts of my trade here. However I have over 30 years of experience communicating with spirits, learning of the unknown ones, and harnessing forces of the worlds beyond. I have become very infamous in the Northlands for my demonstrations and lectures, that have been attended by very influential people including members of the imperial government. Of course, those demonstrations and lectures revealed only a small fraction of my true knowledge and power. I made many breakthroughs in alchemy and chemistry, have discovered what I believe to have been previously undiscovered unknown ones, and have made true predictions about the future of the Northlands and the imperium. As I'm sure you are aware, the Vulpine imperium is in a great position to take advantage of the changes that are to come. It wouldn't be at all within the realm of imagination to see it become a great empire not just in this material world, but also a force to be reckoned with in the different planes of the unknown ones, and really only then can we call it a great empire. Nevali, I can't tell you how fortunate we are to be citizens of the imperium whose ministers clearly understand the importants of the secret and the occult. They look to our guidance and expertise when making their decisions, they appease the spirits and the unknown ones through their public demonstrations, and they are greatly rewarded for it through the wealth and stability of the land they govern. It would be a grave missed opportunity if mystic researchers didn't communicate with each other more knowing the important place we hold in the imperium, and hense I invite you to my lodgings at 19 Vladimir ullyanov street, apartment lucky 7. You decide the time and day Madame Waybird, I'm always eager to talk with someone as bright and skillful as you. Until that meeting, I wish you luck on your journey of discovery.

Yours, as truly as any beast could be,

Professor Rosmakh W. Dowganosyv
Philosophiae Doctor of the secret, occult and the dark arts
​

-- -- -- -- -- --

"Levin! What happens when you get two wizards under one roof?"

Professor Dowganosyv struggled to contain his excitement ever since his student returned to the apartment, and Levin felt it too, it was the kind he didn't feel in a long time. Some beasts think that spending time constantly with a character as enigmatic and as exciting as Professor Dowganosyv would dull the senses to it all, and certainly watching magic tricks and learning about the dark arts loses its novelty after a few months, but life, or whatever forces shape it, find a new direction to take things in every time they stay the same too long, as if determined to not bore any being to death.

"What?"!, Levin grinned wide, as if he had just heard the start of a joke. But Professor Dowganosyv never told jokes, although it was hard to imagine there was any principal behind it.

"Great things, Levin! Two times the wizards four times the magic!", Dowganosyv sounded as if he had all the energy of youth within him. He couldn't help but move things around his apartment a little to prepare for the arrival, as if his weasel colleague was going to arrive within a matter of minutes. Levin himself was eagerly looking at the door, excited for his own reasons to meet the pudgy weasel yet again. She was a much different kind of wizard than his professor, a kind of wizard he preferred more. The interaction he had was brief, formal and stiff, but she was more fun, less serious. He hoped that he would learn from her as well, just for a change from the usual lessons with Dowganosyv.

(Private thread between @Rosmakh W. Dowganosyv and @Nevali, dm or contact on discord if you have comments)

 

[Nevali]

Maps. Maps seemed to be the biggest scam. Or perhaps it was city planning. Assuming anything in Bully Harbour had ever been planned that wasn't a crime. But then, the layout of the town was a crime, wasn't it? Hence the need for maps. It was crime all the way down, and several storeys up.

No, give her a good old field, some proper woods, a muddy path, some bushes... A sky full of stars and some moss on a rock... That's how beasts ought to be living. Maybe with a single building nearby. Possibly two buildings, one for wagons to sleep in, one for beasts to sleep in. That's all you needed.

Her usual method of casting bones into the street to point the way only got her so far before the natural confoundings of the city disrupted it and caused her to be late and lost and nearly mugged several times. Too many beasts, that was another thing. Too much power all scrunched up in such a small space. In a sea of consciousness, the town was a chaotic whirlpool of thought and emotion. The natural waves, the ebb and flow in the web of idea and dream, was disrupted here. Hence the need for the Occult Division's base of operations, she had decided.

Still, she found the place eventually. Maybe the map hadn't lied. Or maybe she'd been drawn to the Professor through some connective tissue. A beast like him would have energies of his own emanating from his being, dropping leylines of power in his wake. Leave it to the unconscious wandering mind to grasp them and tug, nudging the footpaws in the right direction.

Maybe if it wasn't so blasted cold out, and she didn't need to wear footwraps, she would know where she was. The disconnect between her frozen pink beans and the ground was always so unsettling. Might as well have been walking on a cloud.

No, a cloud would be softer.

19 Vladimir Ullyanov street. It wasn't a particularly fancy building, not like those in the Trenches. It was a place for life to quietly wait for something better to come along. Apartment seven...

At least there was a hallway, with enough straw tossed down to soak up the chill and snow-melt that happened when so many warm paws stomped through the place. Dirty, smelly straw, just how it was supposed to be.

She paused on the threshold to adjust her hat and robe into place, and wipe a smudge off her bicolored glasses. She reached into her pocket, taking out a piece of cheese, which she tossed up against the wall above the door. On the third attempt, it finally stuck. She had drawn a glyph of warding into it, two parallel dots and a curving line that bent towards each dot. It would dry quickly in winter, and when spring came, it would wick moisture and sprout flowering mold, which would ground the edifice in the cycle of life and death, keeping it moored in the current time stream.

Or it would feed whoever was game enough to reach up and pluck it free, which was also fine.

She raised a paw and rapped sharply on the door, then picked up the basket at her feet, which held a single large watermelon.

 

[Rosmakh W. Dowganosyv]

Dowganosyv was right that the visitor was quickly approaching. Whether it was a wild guess that got proven right, or if he could scence her with either his nose or some sense only he possessed, he was likely going to keep that to himself. Both wolverine and Ermine stood up at the knock, Levin stepping into the hallway while Rosmakh waited at the entrance to the living room. Levin opened the door and greeted Nevali with a smile.

"Good evening! Please, make yourself at home, my paws are here to help"

Both Levin and Dowganosyv were excited and in good spirits, but they showed it in very different ways. Levin wanted to move, take things, put them somewhere else, hand them back, to be of use to the visitor and make sure he, along with his master whom he represented, left a good first impression. Well, the second one really, since Nevali got to read the letter and meet him at the frost fair beforehand.

"I'm very glad to meet you. One can never know too many people, especially fellow wizards. I hope that you were lucky enough to meet more than I did",
Dowganosyv remained still, as if he didn't want anybody or anything getting in through the door before Nevali. His voice was deep, rough with age but it held a distinctive youthful quality to it. It wasn't in his words, or in the way he said them. It was that mismatch between the image of an old graying wolverine, leaning on a staff with one paw and holding the doorframe with the other, and the loud confident voice of a beast in the prime of his life.

"I introduced myself a little in my letter. I am Professor Dowganosyv, but you are free to address me as Rosmakh or some other way. But be careful, you might bring attention of more beings than you might think when you say a name."

"What do you like to drink? Elderberry syrup, tea of forest fruits, Northlander bittersap?", Levin would offer as he and Nevali entered the living room. It was illuminated in the warm glows of over a dozen candles placed around the room, revealing a busy but orderly space, with relatively narrow sofas on each side of a table, where a few books rested one next to another. They were turned back page up, leaving their exact nature unknown.

 

[Nevali]

Nevali froze up, allowing Levin to take the basket containing the watermelon gift from her paws.

Wolverine.

She'd heard that one of the Ministers was one. She'd seen countless travellers come and go at the Wayweird Inn, but... no, no wolverines. A badger, once, which felt rather close. A lanky fellow, for a badger, not very wide or tall at all, none of the bloodwrath she'd been warned of, although he had grumbled some about the noise of the newly wedded couple taking residence in the main suite, which... understandable. Not a lot of sleeping had happened that night for anybeast, between the feasting, partying, and then the culmination of a bonding, which had lasted well into the sunrise. Not a great day for passing travellers who wanted shut-eye.

So, wolverine. She didn't quite know what to do with her paws, or her hat, or her feet, so she simply stepped further into the apartment, led down the hall by the ermine boy, and said, "Aye, all three of those sound great! One of each." Which was a little presumptuous, but no one had specified she could only choose one.

She decided that "making herself at home" wasn't truly what was expected, and so for propriety's sake, didn't throw aside her robes and toss herself over the sofa stark-naked and start tearing into a raw Harbor pigeon like a starving feral ghoul of a beast. Instead, she lifted her robes as she shuffled around the table and took a seat at the table, and stared curiously at the open books, and around the room in general.

"It's gonna be a pleasure yer meetcha," she said, tugging the brim of her hat as best she could with her short arms. "As much as it is a surprise. I'm a li'l flustered, I confess, yer letter rather painted me as learned and well-researched as yourself, and I'm afraid that I ain't. I'm still jes' learnin' things slowly as I go along, doin' my best as I do. Muckin' up more often than not, feels like..."

She gave a polite cough and a wry grin.

"Also! I brought ya a watermelon. A whole one, not the slices I usually keep on me ter pass around."

 

[Rosmakh W. Dowganosyv]

Dowganosyv let out 4 evenly spaced "ha" sounds, his mouth slightly open in a grin. "You know plenty about making choices, nevali Wayward. Levin, do as she said, one of each".

Levin grinned wide, and once Nevali was comfortably situated in the sofa he began a strange ritual. The ermine climbed onto a spinning circular chair so he was facing nevali, then spun it around using his feet so he faced the wall. He tapped his paws against the wall in a strange rhythm, alternating between harder and lighter taps, with noteably more lighter taps than harder ones. After about 14 taps he stopped, waited for a second, and nothing at all happened.

This must have been exactly what levin expected, since the kit spun around, stopped for a split second to look at Dowganosyv who nodded at him in appreciation, and then spun a little further to face Nevali. "Your drinks will be ready in a minute, miss".

Levin stepped off the chair and went back into the hallway as Dowganosyv continued the conversation with Nevali.

"We never stop learning. And there are so many different paths to take, so many branches of the tree of knowledge to explore, I'm certain that I have a lot to learn from you. As it comes, I already learned something from you"

The wolverine pointed at the watermelon basket sitting on the table, looking out of place with the books, tools and writing implements it shared the surface with.

"I have never seen a watermelon before, and I will certainly try a piece of it later tonight. I don't fancy fruits that much, but I won't refuse gifts from you. And of course, Levin would adore to have more sweets, even if I try my hardest to not indulge him with physical pleasures."

Rosmakh grinned to himself, before shaking his upper body, including his head and ears. He must have been throwing off the current topic of conversation out of his head and ears, since it seemed very unlikely he would want to shake anything physical off in this pristine apartment.

"I am new to Bouillabaissse harbor, a year is nothing to an old beast like me. The newspapers here were of little help, nobody hear dares right about the demonstrations of magic, or ministry matters, or important lectures. I only heard about truly interesting subjects from other beasts with loose tongues, so good that this street has a few of them"

 

[Nevali]

"Huh, that's a new one," mused Nevali, observing the little ermine's wall-tapping. "Neighbour's don't mind, I'd wager?"

She kept her head slightly tilted, curiosity evident in her features and the way she leaned forward. She filed away the information on Levin's lack of physical pleasure - something she'd already been slightly aware of the day before, at the Frost Fair. She had a mind to bring it up later, and wondered at the wolverine's age and customs. Between her two father figures, she had certainly had an upbringing, and was still, in fact, being brought up. It was a strange thing to shake, the idea that the older beasts were enemies... someday, with luck, she would become one herself. And then would she keep kits from indulging in pleasures? Or would she forget her own needs of youth...

There were more important questions at paw, for now. The ermine's little ritual would need to be asked about, to be written down, to find what knowledge and reason there was, and it could be quite the feather in her hat if she found something new to bring back to the Division.

"Newspapers," she agreed with a snort. "They have their uses. Grease mops, mainly. They do hold their shape when dampened a little, too. I enjoy sculpting them. Reading, not so much. My concerns are never valued in them. Aye, the taverns are where true information is found, although..." A little smirk twitched at her whiskers, recalling the misspelling of her name in the letter. "Pronunciation can be difficult with so much drink."

Her soft, verminy accent had entirely dropped. She spoke primly now, keeping each syllable of each word just separate enough to not be confused with the space between the words themselves. It was the kind of accent she'd heard scholars and teachers use. It felt more appropriate in this room.

"So, I suppose you know what else they say about me? My experience with the beasts of the stars? It has been a while since I shared with those who would listen, and such tales are what drew me into the company I more often keep, lately... Is it that which you wish to speak of, or are there other topics of conversation on your mind, professor?"

 

[Rosmakh W. Dowganosyv]

"Beasts of the stars, yes"

Dowganosyv looked out of the window, up at the darkening sky, as if the astral beasts could be clearly seen somewhere high above.

"I had a friend a long, long time ago", the wolverine raised his paws as if to gesture at the time period, but brought them down. It was too far to point to.
"he was very talented for mathematics, and was a great skeptic, but the most sensible one I've ever met. To be clear, this was before I went on my journey of discovery"

Rosmakh changed as he was retelling the story. His forced Fiadoran accent faded and was replaced with a more pleasant northlander one. He let his usual half smile develop into a sinceer yet wistful grin. In some respects his voice sounded younger, but in others it sounded even older than it usually did.

"But what does it have to do with the beasts of the stars? Well, even if he didn't believe in any magic or anything beyond this physical world, he was certain that there have to be other beasts out there among the stars. There were so many stars we could see, and there were probably even more that we couldn't see, the chances of none of them having beasts like us living there is pretty much null"

Rosmakh delivered the mathematician's argument with great enthusiasm, clearly intreagued by it and loving to share it with others.

"Now, I knew as much as a kit back then, didn't know of what was truly out there. I wanted to argue against his argument at the time, but I now have to admit it's very well constructed. But, is it true you have a more convincing proof of the existence of cosmic beasts?"

 

[Nevali]

Nevali leaned forward, glasses sliding down to the tip of her nose as she listened attentively. She'd never really thought about it in the way he now presented it to her. It was logical, whimsical, hopeful. The thoughts of beasts many times her age, who yearned for more than what there was down here, perhaps.

And so too she yearned, but for other reasons.

"Weeeeeelllll," she said, drawling the word out. "I can't say I have proof, exactly. Nothing physical that I can hold in my paws and show to another. Nothing logical that I can find. There's no reason what happened to me happened to me the way it did, not the way we define or understand reason. I been told it's a dream born of fever, been told it's an outright lie meant to make kits' minds wild with fear and wonder - a story, in other words."

She pushed her glasses back up her muzzle and leaned back, tucking her now-dried footpaws up onto the sofa and hugging her knees to her chest. Her robes pooled around her ankles, and her short little weasel tail went fwip-fwip-fwip against the nearby cushion.

"I was in bed, in the attic of the inn, which was my bedroom. It was a chill evening, and I wore my pyjamas, and wrapped myself in my blanket. I was dead asleep, but woke with a start, and my mind was fully awake. I was fully aware. But... I couldn't move. It was as if some great weight settled on my body, keeping me from lifting even my tailtip or neck, not even my eyes. I could only stare up at the ceiling, and listen to this horrible buzzing sound coming from all around me. It was pulsing like a breath, like a heartbeat, soft and loud, but the drone was constant. And the air was green."

She took a breath and paused to adjust her hat back somewhat, the contents settling with a mild clatter.

"I began to rise from my bed, then. And through my pyjamas and my blanket, my naked body lifting and passing through these things as if they were motes of light. I feared I would be pressed against the ceiling, but I passed through that as well, through the wood, the thatch and straw, and the shingles above. The air was warm, not chill as before, and the buzzing louder and louder. In my side-vision I could see the treetops, the road leading away through the forest, the hills and meadows behind the inn, and right above me there was a great silver ship. It looked not unlike a sailing ship of ours, but tilted on its side, its sails flat towards the ground, with oars or masts sticking out the other side. The memory of its shape is hard to hold onto, I feel like it changes... like it was tryin' to change itself to something I'd recognize, but didn't quite know what shape it should be to me."

Another long, contemplative breath, her grip around her legs tightening.

"I passed through the ship's hull as easily as I had left my bedding behind, and then I remember nothin'. What happened next is I woke up on a hill a couple miles away from the inn, starkers and cold, sometime late morning. I knew where I was though, and I made my way back, gettin' ready for a beating for missing my morning duties, or being starkers... but when I did..." A frown tugged at her muzzle. "I saw myself hangin' up laundry. When I... when the other me went inside again, I crept in close, and... well, I stayed hidden, and watched and listened through the walls and windows. Got one of the blankets I'd taken in and wrapped myself up in to keep warm, and everything that happened... I knew it. It had happened the day before. They'd not only taken me up into their ship, but they'd put me back... in the past."

She glanced, for the first time, at the wolverine, just a brief look. Not long enough for her to register his expression to her tale.

"I waited all day, stayed out of sight, and went out that night to a hill behind the inn and watched. Waited for the ship to come, and it did. Like a cloud over the horizon, but fast. Ain't seen anything move so fast, not even a bird, not even an arrow, nor a shot from a cannon, though maybe that'd come close. It stopped right over the inn, and I watched as the air glowed green, and this little weasel kit appeared from the roof and into the ship. And then it went straight up, and became a star, though I couldn't tell you which one. I was hungry and thirsty, and tired, and I went back into the inn, climbed up into my bedroom and got back into my pyjamas, just lying there flat on my bed, my blanket wrapped right around 'em. And I slept through morning shift and got a whallop for it, and didn't tell anyone what happened for years. When I did..."

She turned and looked out the window, saying nothing more.

 

[Rosmakh W. Dowganosyv]

Rosmakh listened closely. He wanted to find out more about the beasts of the stars, especially since he heard that young beasts adored stories of them even more than demonstrations of magic or lectures of the unknown ones. The tastes were very different here, and he was definitely going to ask his guest more about it. But there was something about the story that also peaked his interest. Her words gnawed at a part of his life he hadn't thought of in almost 40 years. Where aeons felt like a year or two to the unknown ones, the events of Dowganosyv's youth in contrast felt like they were far before his time, like they were in a whole different age of the world and the world of then and now would never recognise one another. A curious thought flashed in the wolverines mind, and he couldn't help but grab his notebook to write it down, not taking his usual precautions to make sure the guest couldn't see what he wrote. He found a page with various bullet points, and found one that read "The world changes the starer", where he quickly added: "The starer changes the world".

He clearly wanted to think some more on it, in particularly to focus on the subsequent line disagreeing with his assertion "the starer is powerless", but Nevali just kept on speaking, and he knew it was rude to be reading his notebook while the guest he invited was telling their tale.

Dowganosyv could already picture the skeptic's arguments against the veracity of Nevali's story. Besides the fact that one can't float through solid objects, fly in the air without falling, go into a hovering ship, and then come back into the past, the beginning of the story clearly suggested a simple explanation for all the visions: what they would call sleep paralysis. Her body was asleep and couldn't move, but her naive and terrified kit's mind was fully aware of it, and being unable to run, jump, hide, or yell for somebody to come, it came up with a whole vision to explain the state that it couldn't properly explain. So for a scientist her story was uesless, but Dowganosyv wasn't a conventional scientist. How many young kits had this dream, and would they buy tickets to a lecture on astral beasts? That question was more interesting to the wolverine than whether beasts of the stars captured his excentric guest in her kithood.

And then it happened again. The weasel kit disappearing into the ship and becoming one of the stars finally opened up an old memory. A terrible blizzard, just a sudden wave of snow. It was midday. Fortunately he was home. But some weren't so fortunate. He wasn't allowed to see any of it back then, but he could hear the yelling and heard people working hard once the snowstorm ended. And then unprompted he spoke out the words that came back to him: "No, Skræv Ræv saved him and pulled him up in the night sky, where his eyes will shine and be two more little stars. And whenever you look up he'll be there and see you, and the stars will giggle in the memory of the time you spent together, and you will giggle and be happy when you remember those times too."

That's when Levin appeared in the doorway, carrying a tray of four mugs, a larger one standing alone on one side, and three slightly smaller ones across from it on the other. "Here are your drinks, sir and madame".

"You were quick and efficient Levin!", the effects of Nevali's story have worn off, and everything about Dowganosyv returned to the way he was before. He slowly pressed his paw against the mug and pulled it back.

"You should have waited more for the tea, it is way too hot to drink"

"Oh, sorry sir...I will keep that in mind for later, appologies, I really am..."

Rosmakh just nodded at the ermine boy and gestured to a little desk in the corner, where Levin sat down and began writing. It was difficult to look at what he was doing, but from the alternating handwriting one could guess that it was either Levin filling out forms that Dowganosyv or someone else wrote down, or maybe he was doing exercises.

"What I meant to say was, your story is very interesting! I have seen kit's books in a shop in the trenches, quite a few of them talk about star beasts and similar. I don't remember them being as popular at all when I was little, but that was 50 years ago, hahaha."

 

[Nevali]

Nevali felt her gaze settle on young Levin as he scribbled away at his desk. She closed one eye, then opened it and closed the other. One red ermine, one blue ermine. Back to pink. She couldn't quite place a paw on it, but each one felt a little different. The possibility of youth laid out ahead of him, and another afternoon spent in here... instead of out there, romping in the snow...

At least he had a desk, and could write. Such things had been luxuries for her. A broom had been her quill, the clean sweeps through the dust of the inn's floors her ink, while Caltrops or Harbour or some passing teacher drilled her on sums or multiplications or grammar...

She finished rummaging around in her robe's pockets for her ceramic mug. It had been painted with a sleeping ferret on one side and the phrase, "Bully Harbour Downhill Rolling Nap Championships 1760 - 4th Place" in elegant cursive on the other. She had no idea where she'd gotten it from. She proceeded to pour a third of each mug into it, and stirred it with a finger. The wet fingerpad she used to paint a quick glyph on her sleeve before taking a sip.

"Ahhh... that's good." She let out a happy trill after the long sigh that society dictates one must loudly perform after tasting something for the first time. "Levin, should you find yourself unemployed in your future, look into bartending! Just... stay behind the bar, eh?"

She tossed the young kit a wink, even if he didn't turn back to look at her. She took another long draught, then set the mug down and tested one of the others - elderberry syrup! Nice and sweet.

"There has been a craze of late," Nevali said, her voice somewhat gloomy now, "The last ten years or so. These atrocious Tizzi Poof kits books... I tried to read them, there is simply no sense of world-building between them. The plot is the same in every book, but the events have no foreshadowing or logical connection. They are full of disgustingly twee whimsy and dream-like scenarios that have no setup or payoff. Entirely too life-like, I couldn't stand them. But, they're one of the most popular book series for young beasts these days... Still kits today seem to be enthralled by the character and will romp around town pretending to be Tizzi or Ducky..."

She shook her head with a tsk-tsk-tsk.

"The one about the star-beasts got everything entirely wrong, too... They are tall. Very, very tall. Imposing, even. Not little green mice... that is ludicrous. The little green mice are not star-beasts, they are lichen-bound forest-faeries! Even the Occult Division seems divided on this, but - "

She paused suddenly, and slowly put down her mug to select another.

"I should not have mentioned that, perhaps..."

 

[Rosmakh W. Dowganosyv]

Dowganosyv was taken aback by Nevali's experiment. For such a supposedly inquisitive and open-minded beast, Rosmakh actually didn't step much of his comfort zone when it came to the mundane. He couldn't imagine why anybody would think putting together the three radically different drinks in one mug would result in anything pleasant. But seeing that she at least could stand the mixture made him wonder if there was any reason to think so to begin with.

"Levin, should you find yourself unemployed in your future, look into bartending! Just... stay behind the bar, eh?"

"Levin, once you have finished your training you won't need to worry about bartending. Some other beast will do it for you!", the wolverine immediately aimed to undo Nevali's words, "and no, continue working on that. It's important to learn how to focus even with other beasts around, you won't always have the luxury of a quiet working space".

"There has been a craze of late," Nevali said, her voice somewhat gloomy now, "The last ten years or so. These atrocious Tizzi Poof kits books... I tried to read them, there is simply no sense of world-building between them. The plot is the same in every book, but the events have no foreshadowing or logical connection. They are full of disgustingly twee whimsy and dream-like scenarios that have no setup or payoff. Entirely too life-like, I couldn't stand them. But, they're one of the most popular book series for young beasts these days... Still kits today seem to be enthralled by the character and will romp around town pretending to be Tizzi or Ducky..."

She shook her head with a tsk-tsk-tsk.

"Oh, beasts just don't think before they put words on a page anymore. And so little thoughts being put into kits books, as if a kits book doesn't bring about the future by teaching its young readers!"

Dowganosyv shared if not mirrored Nevali's opinion.

"When I was a kit they would have thoughtful books that would stick with you forever, but these ones now? It's like night and day".

"The one about the star-beasts got everything entirely wrong, too... They are tall. Very, very tall. Imposing, even. Not little green mice... that is ludicrous. The little green mice are not star-beasts, they are lichen-bound forest-faeries! Even the Occult Division seems divided on this, but - "

She paused suddenly, and slowly put down her mug to select another.

"I should not have mentioned that, perhaps..."

Dowganosyv leaned his snout in. he wasn't grumpy anymore. he was very interested. This wasn't the first time he heard the words "occult division" thrown around, but it was never said with certainty, just with possibility, sometimes with disapproval other times with hopefulness.

"So, there is such a division? But isn't that just wonderful!"

Rosmakh grinned wide and slammed his paws together.

"The great age of the imperium is upon us, couldn't be any clearer to me! Do you know anything else about it?"

 

[Nevali]

"It's important to learn how to focus even with other beasts around, you won't always have the luxury of a quiet working space."
"Ain't that the truth," Nevali had muttered under her breath, feeling rather chastised - but rightfully so, really - at the Professor's rebuking of her attempted compliment. Caltrops had taken a rather intense interest in her own sleight-of-paw training when Harbour had dismissed it as an ignoble and foolish skill for a kit to work on, but Harbour had relented at the ferret's ferocity in keeping the lessons going. ("Just keep your paws off our customers, don't need word gettin' out aught's anymore amiss than it always is 'round here, girl.")

Back to the slip of her tongue...

Well. It wasn't like it was secret. Not like two stoic foxes in garish bowties were going to lurch out of the closet and start memory-wiping rituals whenever it was spoken of. Even she had heard rumours of them, long before they'd approached her slumped over a drink, sobbing into her sleeves...

"Do I know anything else about the great age of the Imperium? No, sir, can't say I do. But I reckon you're asking about the Occult Division, which is run by the Ministry of Misanthropy in a joint operation with the Ministry of Innovation, and on that I must be openly honest to a beast of such impressive credentials as yourself. I'm only a lowly paper-pusher in Rites and Countermeasures, only been on one field assignment so far, and it was a li'l rough. Still just a trainee in their eyes..."

She picked up another mug, and emptied it down her throat.

"Yer eagerness is showin', though... I bet they'd love to have you over to discuss your research and work..."

Her eyes glanced around the room again, at the papers and books, the candles, the austere decoration of the sitting room, the little scuffmarks on the wall where Levin's footpaws had struck up a pattern. Nevali found her claws replaying that same beat on her thigh, applying her own little internal melody to it.

"Just the fact your letter mentions Unknown Ones, that ain't really a term the common beast uses. And you've discovered new ones, you said - aye, Nutty'd love to pick your brain on that! Hahaha... not literally... that's another department, I think. Gosh, a demonstration of your spirit-communications alone would be somethin'! Worlds-harnessings and, and, and... and predictions! How many have you made, what came true, have any yet?"

She didn't even notice how she had scootched herself to the edge of her seat, her tail thwapping eagerly at the cushion behind her.

 

[Rosmakh W. Dowganosyv]

"Oh don't sell yourself short Madame Wayward, nobody will know of your true might until you tell them!"

The wolverine was just as excited, his ears pirked and his snout wiggling as if he could sniff out the occult division from his apartment. He would often try to put in a word, but would stop to let Nevali continue speaking, and only once she paused to catch her breath did he start responding.

"One pawstep at a time, I am sure that I will have a talk with Madame or Monsieur Nutty whenever I get to have that meeting, and oh, I would love to have my demonstrations, oh, the predictions? I can show you one of those right away! How familiar are you with the story of the minister of commerce?"

Rosmakh pulled out an extract from a popular Caer Eira Haf newspaper, the text was in a Northlander language but it had the Vulpinsulan translation jotted down in between the lines.

"Prof. Rosmakh: the Vulpine imperium will come in peace, Jarl will be minister"

"Look at that date! It was back in 1754! The Vulpine imperium was gripped by a terrible chaos at the time, and look at it now! It's thriving, and so is my homeland! Oh, oh, so...wonderful!"

 

[Nevali]

"Uh... Minister of Commerce...?" A slightly terrified, but otherwise blank expression gripped Nevali's pointy-faced features. She just shrugged, then leaned forward to read, nudging her glasses up her snout.

She read slowly, her mouth moving along with the sounds in her head. "...perium... come... peaky... Jarr-ul... mini...min-iss-ter..."

"Wonderful," she echoed, not with uncertainty, but acknowledgement. "You had newspapers back then, eh? Um, who is... Jarr-ul? Is that the Minister of Commerce? I must confess, I don't keep up with politics and government happenings..."

She pulled distractedly at the brim of her hat, tail smacking the sofa in embarrassment and annoyance at herself.

As a distraction, she grabbed another mug and emptied it in a few gulps. A sudden thought struck her.

"Do you... have a chamber for the privy, or is it a pot-and-window situation here, or should the need arise, I go out back? And speaking of the needs of a body... are there snacks besides what I have in my hat? I'm afraid as a weasel, I have certain hourly needs... I'm sure Levin has expressed the importance of sustained sustenance to you for us smaller beasts, we don't all have the luxury of size and fluff to fend off the seasons."

 

[Rosmakh W. Dowganosyv]

"Oh, Jarl is in the Northlands like a duke or prince here, a very distinguished royal. One of them is the current minister of commerce, a wolverine just like myself"

Rosmakh explained with a smile, before gesturing towards the door.

"If you go down the stairs and turn opposite the entrance, there's what you need. You will smell it, it's impossible to miss. A lady like you deserves better accommodations, and I appologise that I can't provide them, but they will do. Levin will make sure there's something for you to eat once you return."

Dowganosyv and Levin watched her leave the apartment, and then the snow ermine pulled out some salty biscuits and placed them on a table.

"Levin, that's not a snack fitting a guest of ours, prepare her something properly nutritious"

"I will do as you say professor, but I eat those every other day and they are just delightful."

"You think they are delightful, my dear Levin. You haven't yet experienced the joys Madame Wayward has.", Dowganosyv followed Levin into the kitchen, and then asked him another question.

"What do you think about her?"

"I think she's a very excentric yet respectable lady."

"You are very right about that. But is she sensible? Does she take her craft and science seriously? With all the reverence it deserves?"

"I am not quite sure yet, professor. But I know that she's a good beast, she's the nicest beast I have ever met. And if you ask me sir, that's more important than being serious."

"She wears that large impractical hat, and has just the strangest taste in clothes and drink, and that story about starbeasts is clearly a product of a strange fanciful mind.", Rosmakh waited for Levin to finish speaking, only to continue speaking himself as if the ermine didn't say a thing.

"But, professor Dowganosyv, they say the very same things about you, and your work, and your staff, and your predictions, being strange doesn't make Madame Nevali wrong".

"It will be interesting to meet Gowdy, it must be a curious division she's running if Madame Wayward is one of its members.", Dowganosyv once again said, and turned around to go back into the sitting room, followed by Levin who was carrying a few warmed up slices of bread covered with honey.

 

[Nevali]

It was going well, she hoped. It was hard for her to judge. He was so much older, wiser, experienced. Even as a newcomer to town, she felt her worth slipping away compared to him. Why did he reach out to her - why not somebeast like Nutty? They would be on more equal footing with their knowledge, then.

It would come, with time, she knew - hoped. Someday she would be a great wizzard after all.

She finished her business in the privy, forcing herself to go so that it wouldn't come up later, and because she didn't like lying. But she stayed a few minutes extra, despite the smell, long enough to dry her eyes and wipe the tears from her face. And then another volley of gut-wrenching sobs tore at her throat and she had to wait for it to pass and dry herself all over again.

When she felt at last she could keep it together, she returned, shuffling awkwardly as Levin led her back to the sitting room and pointed out the plate of snacks prepared.

"Oh," she said, her voice creaking still, "ain't that a treat, real honey! Thank ya, Levin, Professor."

She settled back on the sofa and selected two pieces of bread. The first she sniffed, gave a polite little tap of her dainty pink tongue to the layer of honey, and then twisted about and hurled the bread up against the wall behind her, where it stuck close to the ceiling. The other slice she bit into with a short trill of appreciation.

"So," she said, between chewing, "I reckon what'll help you get situated in Bully best is a meeting with my boss's boss, so I'll be doing that soon as I can for ya. They'll be wanting to know you as well. And are you able to demonstrate how you do predictions? I'd love ter see it. Of course, I understand these things can often take a certain amount of set-up... So, how may I be of service to you, Professor?"

 

[Rosmakh W. Dowganosyv]

Levin's laughter broke out throughout the apartment at Nevali's stunt with the slice. It boomed at first, but then he quieted down and only let himself chuckle looking at the new wall decoration high above Nevali's head. Dowganosyv was clearly far less amused, glaring at the sweet piece of bread as if it decided to jump there off the plate itself to personally spight him. He didn't say anything however, but there was more than a few drops of annoyance in his voice.

"That would be very kind of you, Madame Wayward. I can prepare quickly, about a week's notice should be more than enough."

Rosmakh paused, wondering what to add. He glanced around him, giving a glance to Levin who had finally become still, looked at one of his implements, a tall rectangular tube of glass which shined and sparkled chaotically, and finally turned to Nevali.

"A good word from you is more than enough. Truly, just for coming here and being willing to help out a fellow researcher in dire need of it, I am greatly indebted. I, and of course my student Levin,"

Rosmakh turned towards the ermine, who seemed to be able to sense something in the wolverine's tone and took up his usual place at the corner desk.

"are always here if you need a favor in return."

 

[Nevali]

Little crumbs flew as Nevali stopped being able to hold it in. Levin's abrupt explosion of joy was infectious - at least to her. Her mind replayed it over and over, distracting her thoughts until laughing herself was all she could do. She nearly choked on her next slice, but managed to swallow in time and use the coughing fit to hide her smile from the Professor.

"A week is a good time," she said, and tapped at one of the books on the table. "For a favor, may I borrow a book? It would take me around that many days to read it... my, these are thick."

It wasn't that she didn't like reading. It was still new to her, it still held fascination. But there seldom seemed time to read for pleasure, and when she had that time, it was filled with letters from her fargone friends across the Imperium. They were bite-sized chunks compared to a proper, thick tome, each letter a page or two of a whole chapter in their ongoing shared adventure across time, space, and imagination. If only they knew how much reality she had discovered and used to fill her own contributions to the story, since finding herself with the Occult Division...

"Which book might you suggest is a good one to start with? Have you written any?"

Got to get him talking about himself again... distract him from Levin, from the bread... 'Gates, I never want to see a wolverine scowl like that again. He could probably turn me into a frog, not that there's anything wrong with frogs, perfectly nice creatures if you can get over the eyeballs being like that, and the mouths... And that one lady frog who brought in that big jar with her kid in it to the inn. That was a day for sure.

 

[Rosmakh W. Dowganosyv]

"Oh, hmm, which one to recommend? It is so hard to settle on just one"

Dowganosyv looked between various books, muttering something under his breath. He flipped through an old notebook and put it down, leaving it's title "Discoveries 1732-1750" visible, before going on to examine the shelves.

"There aren't many things I have written, I preferred to keep my knowledge and methods to myself and have only recently realized the error in that approach. But here's a guide that I still look towards every once in a while"

He pulled out the third book of one of the stacks and handed it to Nevali.

"All researchers of the secret in the Northlands owe a great favor to this guide and its author. If you are curious about the gods worshipped in the icy north you will certainly appreciate it, describes them all in great detail and links them to the wider occult tradition. Let me just check..."

He opened it, skimmed through it and nodded.

"Yes, this is the Vulpinsulan translation. Old Vulpinsulan mind you, I hope it won't make it too difficult to follow. If it soothes your fears, the language of the original is so dated many found it easier to study from this version, and it was back when your language wasn't as wide spread as it is today."

 

[Nevali]

"Not too keen on gods, myself," mumbled Nevali. "Lotta great big beasts floatin' up in clouds and whatnot, smitin' and saying this or that is good or evil, where do they get off? Me, in my bed in the mornin'. Nature's where it's at, you want something to put your hopes and dreams into. You can trust a tree to grow, trust water to flow. But aye, learnin' of 'em is important. Opens yer eyes to how beasts think, which is even more important, innit?"

She was slipping back into a drawl, perhaps feeling comfortable again, or just didn't like the idea of badmouthing greater beings with polish; they were certainly undeserving of the effort. Gods were different than Old Ones, sometimes. Sometimes, they were the same. It all came down to how they were perceived and recorded. The book would be useful, maybe Nutty would even want to read it - maybe Nutty would read it to her!

"Thank ya, Professor. Language shouldn't be a trouble, I'm not great with spelling as it is. When I write letters I gotta bring a picture-nary. It's like a dictionary but it helps you find the words you wanna spell with li'l sketches of things."

Her gaze drifted to Levin again. No doubt the kit was a better reader and writer than she was, already.

She put the book beside her and finished off the last piece of honey bread, then while licking her lips, asked, "There's one more thing I'd like to ask before I overstay my welcome in your home... Not that I'm eager to leave! When ya get tired of me, just swat me with a broom, eh? Haha! But, seriously, I'd love ter hear your thoughts on... well, tulpas. Beasts born of thought, often taking the form of a twin? Are you familiar with?"

She leaned forward again, whiskers twitching, nose sniffling at the air. Last time she'd brought this up, the smell had been... strong. Like lightning and fire. Old fire, ash and charcoal, without a hint of smoke. The wind had sizzled, her fur had felt electric, like loose socks on a carpet. And then she had blacked out.

She carefully moved the plate away from her on the table, and on second thought, leaned back into the couch cushions. Just in case.