《Super Supportive Party》 Invitation You have been invited to a Super Supportive Party! We are so pleased you could join us in showing Alden our appreciation with lovingly selected snacks, drinks, and party games, and of course the care and support of all of his friends. At this party, everyone has a good heart and nothing truly bad can happen. Folks like Aulia and Manon are not invited. But you ARE invited! To have a good party time! Each of Alden¡¯s friends are working hard on preparing something special for him. So for your convenience, as an honored guest, I¡¯m reserving a space here for an index of snacks and activities. You¡¯re welcome to skip around and take inspiration for a party of your own! May contain spoilers up to the current public chapter. A Bulleted List of Party Things, with links (will continue to change/update, may be considered spoilers, may or may not all show up in story): Drinks: This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. Food: Activities: Ambiance and Decor: A Recipe for Wevvi Emilija stage-whispered to Hadiza, looking across the kitchen at Natalie. Emilija was getting good at resisting the urge to photograph Natalie every moment of her life. But still, Natalie was Natalie, and somehow she made the scene before them look like a work of art. Young woman hunches over modern kitchen counter frowning at napkin. ¡°It¡¯s only been 15 minutes,¡± Hadiza replied at normal volume. ¡°Not so long, for a Natalie Chef Meltdown.¡± Emilija called, walking forward. Then she looked down at her hands, which she¡¯d been holding spread out in front of her. ¡°Hadiza bear hug incoming!¡± the girl grinned, stomping dramatically forward with wide open arms. ¡°Resistance is futile!¡± Hadiza wrapped her arms fully around an unresisting Natalie from behind, pinning the girl¡¯s arms in, and rocked her back and forth forcefully enough to break her gaze from the scribbled-on napkin. Natalie harrumphed and leaned into the hug. ¡°It¡¯s fine, I¡¯m fine,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m sure it will be great!¡± She perked up and smiled at her roommates in a way that would have convinced anyone but them. Emilija went over to look at the napkin Natalie had been pondering. It was a big napkin with tiny handwriting on it, and she tilted her head so that the system could get a clear shot and give her a translation.
Wevvi (Midwest Style) 3 cups mango-orange juice *Substitute with any similar 100% fruit juice. We use Santa Cruz Organic Orange Mango, a blend that has apple and banana too. 1 cup vanilla oat milk creamer *Non-dairy is important, but almond or soy creamer should be fine too. We used California Farms Vanilla Oat Creamer. 3 Cinnamon sticks 1/2 tsp of pumpkin spice 1 dash of ground nutmeg Optional for Non-Anesidorans: Plum wine *The Artonans will definitely want the Plum wine version! But don¡¯t do it on Anesidora. Mix mango-orange juice, creamer, cinnamon sticks, and pumpkin spice in a small saucepan or microwave-safe teapot. Heat to near boiling, stirring occasionally, and top with ground nutmeg. Serve immediately. Optional: substitute up to half of juice with plum wine.
¡°That looks really good, actually. And anything¡¯s gotta be better than the powdered fake stuff, right?¡± asked Hadiza, tilting her head and resting her chin on the corner of Natalie¡¯s shoulder. You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author. ¡°If only I could get my hands on a real Wevvi fruit!¡± Natalie sighed, and would have tossed up her arms too if they weren¡¯t still pinned in a hug. Hadiza let her go and Natalie continued her rant with the aid of complete arm gestures. ¡°At least this has actual fruit in it. The triplanets don¡¯t have fruit like Earth does! For some reason everyone still uses the Artonan substitute, but by using Earth ingredients we can make something much better and also much more authentic to true Wevvi! So this is great! Right? Right!¡± ¡°What¡¯s Midwest?¡± Hadiza hopped up to sit on the sparkling clean counter and rested an arm on an industrial-sized mixer. ¡°The American Midwest is a region of the United States,¡± Natalie lectured. ¡°Alden is from Chicago. So using normal Earth ingredients available in his home region should help it taste extra welcoming. At least in theory, according to my skill. And my mentor who helped identify the ingredients available in the midwest that we could source for it.¡± She pointed a perfectly manicured nail at the scribbling on the napkin, which was in two different handwritings. Emilija nodded. Natalie ignored the comment. ¡°So it will taste like it comes from home even before I use my skill, and Alden will love it and it will be great for the party and everyone is happy and everything is fine!¡± Natalie grit her teeth into a smile as she finished her not-a-rant, and then her expression shifted to a more natural one of curiosity as she noticed Emilija¡¯s spread-out fingers. ¡°Purple? I thought you were going to see if there were any limits on chipping and fixing the same polish.¡± Emilija blushed, and Natalie sensed there was more to the color choice than the Lithuanian girl was letting on, but she let it go. Emilija crossed her arms. ¡°Nothing¡¯s wrong,¡± Natalie smiled her best smile that she knew her own roommates would see through, and continued brightly. ¡°I¡¯m sure my mentor¡¯s sourcing skill, combined with my skill, absolutely did give us the best recipe for Alden¡¯s enjoyment of a Wevvi substitute, even though it¡¯s a basic mixed drink using bottled ingredients instead of everything being made from scratch.¡± Natalie¡¯s uncannily beautiful smile had turned menacing, like a poisonous butterfly. ¡°And you, our one and only Chef of the Moment, wanted to make something so mind-bogglingly fancy and special for Alden that only one of your skill could even hope to attempt it, purely so that you can level and grow as is your destiny.¡± Hadiza guessed. ¡°Yes! Thank you!¡± Natalie waved her arms exhasperatedly. ¡°This recipe¡­ anyone could make this!¡± ¡°You are aware, oh intrepid S rank who is only a couple levels away from spending half her life summoned onto alien planets, that your skill will still make it taste like it was squeezed out of a god¡¯s teat. It will taste like an entire choir of angels sang so beautifully that the sound could no longer be held by physics alone, and so their voices condensed into a creamy spiced fruit beverage.¡± Natalie stared, and then nodded appreciatively. ¡°You¡¯re getting better at those. It¡¯s like you¡¯ve managed to use your skill on your own speech.¡± She paused and considered. ¡°Wait, is that possible? Can you enhance words?¡± ¡°Affirmatively Yescorrect,¡± Hadiza deadpanned. ¡°No, don¡¯t give up! You¡¯ve been learning so fast!¡± ¡°Thankfirmative Accept!¡± Emilija replied seriously in careful english. Her smile broke a couple seconds later, and the three girls¡¯ banter turned to poking and giggling as they left the kitchen to get ready to go party shopping. Aside from the authentically midwestern wevvi ingredients, Natalie had her heart set on finding a proper porcelain sake bottle and cup set, the kind made for holding a hot drink meant to be served in small portions. She seemed certain that the bloated size of most Wevvi cups was to compensate for the mediocrity of the powdered stuff, and that a sake set would be more accurate to the authentic Artonan stuff. Finding this, along with other placeware, was delegated to Emilija. Meanwhile, Hadiza was tasked with sourcing a very important root vegetable. They were going to make sure Alden had the best party ever. Eleven Innocent Young Radishes ¡°Behold the Radishes!¡± Hadiza cried, holding aloft a beautiful bunch with the greens still attached. A few passers-by in the open air market spared a glance her way and carried on. On the other side of the video call with the three shopping rabbit girls, Lute peered at the radishes with a critical eye. ¡°As First Radish, I approve,¡± he pronounced theatrically, and then leaned forward. ¡°They¡¯re actually suspiciously beholdable.¡± Each radish was almost perfectly proportioned, but not to the point of looking artificial. The rich deep reds faded gently at the top, each radish a slightly different shade, adding to the appeal of the entire bunch. The occasional bit of texture made them look natural and eminently edible. They practically glowed with ¡°Eat me.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t Hadiza¡¯s skill so cool?¡± Natalie gushed. ¡°And Emilija is practicing hers right now too, check out her new nails!¡± Emilija waggled her fingers at the camera and grinned at Lute as if she were perfectly at ease. Lute would know, from their prior conversations, that she¡¯d likely spent all day chipping at the polish and then magically fixing it back up. ¡°Ooh, purple! Nice!¡± Lute said through the screen. ¡°And we could really use your help as a guide, if you happen to be free,¡± Natalie continued. ¡°Hadiza is on Radishes, I¡¯m on Wevvi, and Emilija is on place settings. But Hadiza and I have to go to F city for some of this stuff, and we didn¡¯t want to leave Emilija to shop alone in Apex, so we¡¯re hoping¡­¡± The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°Yeah, I should be able to swing by,¡± Lute said casually. ¡°I¡¯ve finished my own preparations.¡± ¡°What are you doing for the party?¡± Hadiza asked. ¡°I¡¯m in charge of music. Of course live music is the only way to go, and I myself will be gracing the party with a performance along with some other friends from Arts. I¡¯ve also got a playlist of Alden¡¯s favorites for the jukebox between sets, and I¡¯ve granted Finlay a slot for his abominations of song that I find perfectly charming and have no judgement about whatsoever. But for my special gift, I have created a virtuosic arrangement of the American classic, ¡®Sweet Home Chicago¡¯, for Angela. I mean, for harp. I am currently broadening my horizons on world music, and it¡¯s actually in a deceptively difficult genre for my instrument, as in order to access the required chromatics I needed to cleverly adapt how the¡­¡± Lute trailed off, considered the blank stares of his audience, and then shugged. ¡°I¡¯m doing a music thing by being good at music. It¡¯ll be awesome.¡± Emilija smiled, and Lute held in a blush. ¡°Eggplants?¡± Hadiza raised an eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯m sure Angela Aubergine would give her most sincere thanks,¡± Lute nodded solemnly, understanding Emilija¡¯s intentions. ¡°But why eggplants?¡± Hadiza asked again. Natalie smiled happily, perfectly willing to stand by and watch the free entertainment. Emilija shifted into english. ¡°Angela Egg-plant?¡± Lute facepalmed and prepared to cut the call before he dug himself in deeper. ¡°No, it¡¯s translating right. ¡­I¡¯ll be there in 15 minutes.¡± A China Plate For His Radishes ¡°I¡¯ve actually never been in a thrift store before,¡± Lute said wonderingly, eyes wide at the treasures all around him. ¡°How did you find this place?¡± Emilija teased. Even a month ago, Lute might have felt sore at the reminder that he was now a true Anesidoran regardless of his feelings on the matter. But somehow, after making some new friends at school and living his own life for once, things did get better. And when he looked at someone awesome like Emilija, who could see all the good things about the island from an outside perspective, suddenly the idea of being here for life felt merely unfair and unfortunate rather than being the deepest personal tragedy a person could suffer. ¡°It¡¯s really cool,¡± he said, and he meant it. This was a shop packed to overflowing with random things discarded from other Anesidoran¡¯s lives. It spoke to him on an artistic level. ¡°I think California is in the west.¡± Lute searched his knowledge of foreign geography, but her logic could not be faulted. And he thought he recognized the name Santa Cruz, but he couldn¡¯t place it in terms of the midwestern cities he was familiar with. ¡°I¡¯ve always wanted to visit the American midwest,¡± Lute said dreamily. ¡°Cleveland and Chicago have the best orchestras in the world, after Vienna. People assume Anesidora would, or New York or Paris, but real talent isn¡¯t about¡­¡± Lute recognized he was self-indulgently rambling and busied himself with poking through a mismatched pile of fancy hats. Emilija said quietly. Lute didn¡¯t falter, still sorting through hats, but he became introspective. They both knew she was an F-rank living off of her state-supplied stipend, and he was a double-S from a wealthy family and with a lucrative skill. And they both knew that was a bullshit way to see the world. But he also knew that the more loudly and seriously they claimed it didn¡¯t matter, the more the suspicion would creep in that maybe it did. The only solution was to not take such nonsense seriously in the first place. Maybe him and Emilija wouldn¡¯t work out, but if it didn¡¯t, he¡¯d be damned if it would be because he¡¯d overthought the unimportance of their differences in status. He valued real talent, and she had some talents of her own. Her words were good, and her words were true. He turned dramatically toward her while donning a garishly decorated fedora. ¡°Most right you are, milady!¡± he affected. ¡°And now let us apply our ample talents to the noble art of plate selection!¡± He doffed his hat and bowed deeply, making her giggle. she pulled him by the sleeve. ****** Lute and Emilija arrived back at the rabbit girls¡¯ apartment to find Natalie and Hadiza already home, along with a well-manicured blond boy. The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°Hey, I¡¯m Lute, Harpist. I think I¡¯ve seen you around CNH?¡± Lute liked introducing himself to globies, like the rabbit girls, who didn¡¯t know anything about his past. People for whom ¡°Harpist¡± could be his defining feature, because he said so. ¡°Yeah I know,¡± the blond boy said. ¡°You¡¯re Alden¡¯s other roommate, right?¡± ¡°Alden¡¯s Roommate, that¡¯s me,¡± Lute replied semi-sarcastically. He was actually totally awesome with being defined as ¡°Alden¡¯s Roomate.¡± Anything but ¡°Velra¡± was an improvement. ¡°So how do you know Natalie?¡± Lute asked, falling back on a Totally Normal Conversation Opener. ¡°Were you in intake together?¡± ¡°They have a spiritual connection because they both have crushes on Alden,¡± Hadiza teased. ¡°Hey!¡± both Natalie and the blond boy said at the same time, with identical glares. ¡°I am only teasing them because Winston said Alden was cute,¡± Hadiza informed Emilija. ¡°I said other people like him because he¡¯s cute, not that I do,¡± Winston complained. ¡°You¡¯re not helping your case, mate,¡± Lute shook his head. He still couldn¡¯t quite place the blond boy, and tried to remember whether Alden had ever mentioned a Winston. Emilija stepped into the center of the room and opened her arms. ¡°You¡¯re not bearing anything,¡± Winston noted. ¡°Lute¡¯s carrying all the bags. Just like how I was just saying hi to Natalie while I went on an energy drink run and somehow I ended up here carrying about 20 gallons of oat milk.¡± ¡°But there¡¯s so many kinds of oat milk¡­¡± Natalie said abashedly. Lute stepped forward with his bags and cleared his throat. ¡°Emilija comes bearing very important ceramics!¡± he announced theatrically. ¡°Through the medium of her ever loyal workhorse! I am the squire to her knight! Her will is my command!¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t Emilija say ¡®enough drama¡¯?¡± Hadiza commented. ¡°And now we¡¯re watching Shakespeare.¡± ¡°And could mere Shakespeare come supply thy party with such glorious items?¡± Lute orated, setting down the bags. Emilija pulled out an item and took center stage, dramatically showing off a small ceramic carafe made for hot sake as Lute knelt and posed at her side, gesturing toward her. ¡°Behold! A bottle, destined for thy wevvi. A better bottle you shan¡¯t find in seven lands!¡± Natalie reached excitedly for the carafe, and Emilija handed it to her so she could start bringing out the next set of items. Lute spun into a new dramatic pose at Emilija¡¯s other side. His voice grew deeper and louder. ¡°A kingdom¡¯s worth of tiny cups! Would that ever in my life I could behold such majesty?¡± There really were a lot of tiny cups. Sake cups, decorative tea cups, ceramic shot glasses, tiny hand-made mugs, and a few of what Natalie recognized as actually being egg cups. ¡°I shall meet my end at peace, having witnessed such a fine assortment of tiny cups as these!¡± Lute mimed his own death, collapsing with one last wistful look at the cups as Hadiza finished unboxing the last one. ¡°That didn¡¯t even rhyme,¡± Winston heckled. Hadiza shushed him and whispered out of the corner of her mouth. ¡°I am being entertained. Your interference is counter to my interests.¡± ¡°Alas,¡± Lute croaked from the floor. ¡°My end upon this mortal coil is all but assured. There is but one thing that could rouse my spirit from its rest, the thing that¡¯s left for last for it is best¡­¡± He peered out of his good eye at Emilija, who was still wrestling with the bags to uncover the final party item. He¡¯d have to vamp a little more. ¡±Ha! Best rhymes with rest!¡± Winston shouted and pumped his fist. ¡°Told you rhyming is awesome!¡± Lute had certain ideas about the value of rhyme versus rhythm, and so he wanted to roll his eye at Winston, but he was also still a performer. He enjoyed being appreciated and he was willing to play to his audience. Emilija finally freed the china plate from its wrapping and displayed it to the room. ¡°Oh plate! Good plate! Arrived not late! My kingdom for a plate, I¡¯d rate!¡± Lute announced in a tone of voice that suggested he might be speaking the wisest words of wisdom ever worded. Winston clapped his hands together delightedly, and Lute took that as a sign to carry on. ¡°What happy fate, to have a plate! It¡¯s not just good. I¡¯d say it¡¯s¡­¡± Lute paused and stroked his chin, as if to ponder the right word to choose. Winston leaned forward with wide eyes and rapt attention, allowing Lute to milk the moment a bit longer. The two held each other in suspense for another ten seconds before all three girls yelled together, even Emilija, in english. ¡°GREAT!¡± the three chorused, and the force of it nearly knocked Winston off the couch. Victor the Cat鈥檚 Cradle Jeremy had just finished his calc homework and was leaning back on his desk chair in his room, tasting victory. He¡¯d done well on the latest test, he still had endorphins from rooting on his little sister¡¯s marching band performance at the high school game earlier, and his parents had even gotten them both ice cream to celebrate. The ice cream part was cringe, because they weren¡¯t little kids, but also, it was ice cream, so it was cool too. ¡°Heh. Cool.¡± Jeremy smiled to himself, and then abruptly thunked the chair back down to a stable position as he noticed Victor wasn¡¯t on the windowsill anymore, and might be behind him on the bed. He didn¡¯t want to be tipping precariously if Victor was in range. He looked around and found Victor sitting on his pillow, ready to chill in bed and wind down from a busy day. He could hear his parents watching a documentary in the lounge, and his sister was still at the official marching band afterparty. He had no obligations and no interruptions for at least an hour before bedtime. ¡°Come on buddy, it¡¯s time. Time for us to get to the important stuff. Official party business. Right here, right now.¡± Jeremy scooted onto his bed on top of the covers and cozied up next to Victor without disturbing him. The cat flicked an ear and then lazily flopped over, exposing his belly for petting, as if he¡¯d just casually decided that was how he¡¯d like to relax even if Jeremy weren¡¯t there. ¡°Okay Victor, we¡¯ve got to think of the best present. Something to remind Alden that us normies still got it.¡± Victor purred, and Jeremy noticed he¡¯d subconsciously started giving belly rubs. He was really getting used to the cat. ¡°From the way Alden talks about it, the Anesidoran kids are so out of touch that something super normal might even impress them the most,¡± he said out loud. ¡°Heh. Super normal.¡± Jeremy leaned back against the wooden headboard and let his eyes wander around the room for inspiration. He was tasked with coming up with an activity that party guests could enjoy. The first thing he thought of when he¡¯d gotten the invite message was something related to the radish meme, but by the time he got out of school and messaged back his idea he was informed that radishes were already covered. It was probably just as well. His superpower, in this situation, was being a normal guy in the normal world. He was the kind of guy who had encountered racoons and lived to tell the tale. That alone would amaze Alden¡¯s Anesidoran friends in a way that Alden would find hilarious. ¡°What do you think, Victor? Should we dress you up as a racoon and send you back? I bet that racoon-obsessed girl wouldn¡¯t know the difference.¡± Victor was still enjoying his belly rubs while lazily swiping at a hanging thread from Jeremy¡¯s sweater. Jeremy enjoyed the moment, and then realized he should probably save his sweater from the cat. He jerked the string away, which of course only further interested the cat, and the brief struggle ended with the cat victoriously trapping a length of string between its claws. He had managed to claim about three feet before the string had come completely free of the sweater. ¡°You¡¯re a good cat, Victor. You deserve that string.¡± When Alden was missing, taking care of Victor felt mandatory. And when Alden was presumed dead, Victor felt like a lifeline, tangible proof that something Alden-y still existed in the world. Sometimes when Jeremy looked at Victor, he still automatically thought ¡°At least I still have you and we can be sad together.¡± And then he remembered Alden was back. And he looked forward to taking that for granted someday, that Alden was alive. Sometimes he still thought things like, I can¡¯t wait to tell Alden about the weird thing that happened in chemistry class¡­ only to automatically correct himself No, Alden¡¯s dead. Why haven¡¯t you moved on yet. Followed immediately by Wait, he¡¯s alive again now, and I was right the first time! What gives, brain! ¡°We are going to party you so much party that everyone forgets what bad times feel like,¡± Jeremy muttered to his mental image of an under-partied Alden. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. He distracted himself by looking up raccoon costumes for cats. Victor was calm enough these days that maybe he would let him use a temporary pet-safe dye to add a raccoon-like mask to his face and rings to his tail. ¡°They¡¯d probably see through the ruse, but it would be hilarious, and that¡¯s what counts.¡± Victor was still playing with the string, and it brought to mind the string game Cat¡¯s Cradle that he learned as a kid. He had a sudden memory of trying to learn the Jacob¡¯s Ladder figure, and having it always come out looking wrong, and calling it Jeremy¡¯s Ladder and claiming that¡¯s what he meant it to look like. ¡°I wonder if I still remember it?¡± He stole the 3-foot length of string from Victor and tied it into a loop. He still had the muscle memory to loop it around his hands and pick the string up with his index fingers into what he thought was the starting position. ¡°I feel like I almost remember¡­ it was something like¡­ hmm.¡± ****** A half hour later, Jeremy was on to learning his third string figure, with the help of video tutorials from the internet. It was so much easier, now that he was an adult. Untangling the string, he went through the motions of Jacob¡¯s Ladder again to prove he¡¯d memorized it. He turned his hands outward to complete the figure, and this time the pattern of diamond shapes was symmetrical and clear. ¡°Pow! Take that!¡± He said with quiet force. Then he looked at the time, and remembered he was supposed to be brainstorming party activities. ¡°Do you think Anesidorans would get a kick out of Cat¡¯s Cradle? Or is that too mundane?¡± he asked Victor as he teased the cat with the string. ¡°I want Alden¡¯s friends to think I¡¯m cool. String figures might not be cool enough.¡± Jeremy tried to imagine serious avowed like Alden sitting around and learning string figures, and he couldn¡¯t quite do it. It really was quite fun, but it was Alden¡¯s party, and string figures didn¡¯t seem very thematic. His friends would want to be doing things that felt celebratory of Alden, like running around with plates of radishes. And what did string figures have to do with Alden¡¯s life? Victor flopped around adorably with the string, and Jeremy pulled up his phone to take a video. ¡°Hey Alden,¡± Jeremy began after he hit record. ¡°Victor is having one of his cute moments, and so it is absolutely necessary to share it with you. Thank you for sending your latest gym footage, I knew you¡¯d win! You look so cool. So to celebrate your VICTOR-y, get it, Victor is here to¡­¡± Jeremy had an idea, and stopped the recording. He gathered the string and held it behind the camera, so that only Victor¡¯s intense tracking stare was visible. He started a new recording, speaking in the voice he used when he was pretending to voice Victor¡¯s thoughts. ¡°Greetings, human. This is your boss, Victor. ¡°In honor of your special party day I have deigned to respond to your request for activities suited for good times, and I have but a humble suggestion wrought of feline wisdom. Have you considered: string?¡± Jeremy let the string spool out, and the cat immediately pounced for it. Jeremy continued in his cat voice: ¡°String is an excellent activity for humans. I will be sending string, so that you can enjoy the joys of string. I think you will find that it is of utmost importance to enjoy string.¡± Jeremy finally let the cat have the string and Victor played his role perfectly, pawing and biting at it while rolling around adorably for the camera. ¡°String is good and string is fun. You¡¯re welcome. ¡°P.S. I will require extra snacks and belly rubs.¡± Jeremy ended the recording and smiled. When the present came from Victor, instead of himself, it was easy to imagine Alden¡¯s friends gushing over the adorable cat and wanting to learn a string figure or two in Victor¡¯s honor. Jeremy put in an order for a set of Cat¡¯s Cradle-sized string loops that came with an instruction booklet, now confident that if anyone thought it was childish he could blame it on the cat. ¡°But wait, if that¡¯s from Victor, now I¡¯m still on the hook. What would Alden want?¡± Jeremy thought for two seconds and then answered himself: ¡°Floor chicken. Alden needs floor chicken.¡± As entertaining as it was to imagine bountiful fried chicken, suitable for a party of mostly teenagers, being served on the floor, that wasn¡¯t going to work for Alden. Jeremy supposed that Alden would still get a kick out of it if it were a vegan fried chicken substitute that he could eat. Maybe it could be served on a shiny new clean floor tile, which was basically the same thing as a plate. But Jeremy continued to search his brain for something more special. ¡°Didn¡¯t Alden mention something about a chicken cafe?¡± One phone call later, Jeremy had hired an employee of the chicken cafe to bring a few special guests to Alden¡¯s party. They would take care of managing the chickens, and allow the chickens to roam free on the floor among the normal party guests. Operation Floor Chicken was a go. ¡°This party is gonna be awesome!¡± Jeremy said, imagining a bunch of teenagers surrounded by chickens while they gushed over Victor¡¯s cuteness. Jeremy pet Victor, thinking of his friends. ¡°If only Boe were here.¡± Floor Chicken ¡°Didn¡¯t Alden mention he still hadn¡¯t gotten to that chicken cafe?¡± A quick search gave Jeremy the number of the cafe that had free-roaming chickens you could pet and even hold while enjoying a beverage. Alden had been talking about wanting to go there since he first got to Anesidora, and life always got in the way. It would be better if the chickens could come to Alden. ¡°Maybe they do party rentals?¡± He called them up to inquire, and the gruff voice on the other end of the line told him that was something they could arrange. It was expensive to arrange for even one chicken, but Jeremy had just enough extra cash squirreled away. The image of Alden happily holding a chicken in his lap was worth it. Jeremy started to give the party information details when the voice interrupted in a changed tone. ¡°Alden Thorn, you say? You¡¯re a friend of his?¡± ¡°Yes, we went to school together. Before¡­ well, we¡¯re throwing him a big party, and he¡¯s been talking about wanting to go to your cafe for ages.¡± ¡°Same Alden Thorn who gave that Velra girl a piece of his mind?¡± ¡°That¡¯s Alden,¡± Jeremy said, proud of his friend but also unsure whether the voice was on the Velra or anti-Velra side of things. His worries were immediately allayed, as the voice responded with enthusiasm. ¡°Say no more! I¡¯ll cover this one. It¡¯s on the house.¡± ¡°Oh I couldn¡¯t possibly¡­ it¡¯s important to pay people for their work,¡± Jeremy said reluctantly. ¡°Are you willing to negotiate on that? You can¡¯t be much older than Alden if you went to school together. The kid deserves a party with as many chickens as possible, and my prices aren¡¯t cheap.¡± ¡°Both my parents are lawyers. Negotiation is in my blood. But this was supposed to be my present to Alden. I¡­ I have enough.¡± Perhaps the gruff voice could hear his reluctance, because he gave it another try. ¡°You¡¯re not avowed, right? You¡¯re calling from Chicago.¡± ¡°That¡¯s right. Alden and I both went to Central Chicago High. I still do. We, and our other friend Boe, used to be practically inseperable¡­.¡± Jeremy trailed off, not wanting to stray too close to painful topics. And he didn¡¯t want to sound like he was trying to get free work out of the chicken cafe based on pity points. This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. ¡°Hey, so yer a normie like me!¡± ¡°I guess?¡± ¡°I remember the first years after my partner got selected. Back then we were just high school crushes. I thought that¡¯d be the end of us. We barely kept in touch, and I became a chicken farmer. No farms on Anesidora. But after some awkward years we both realized what really mattered to us, gave it a go, and here we are!¡± ¡°Oh! That¡¯s great! Alden and I aren¡¯t quite in that situation, but I like to think he won¡¯t leave me behind as a friend.¡± ¡°Of course not. You¡¯ll figure it out. You¡¯re already figuring it out right now, by still making yourself a part of his life instead of pretending he doesn¡¯t exist anymore.¡± ¡°I would never!¡± ¡°That¡¯s good, kid. But there¡¯s still practical things to figure out in any relationship, and one of those practical things is that Anesidora is expensive. Visiting here is expensive. Sending gifts here is expensive. And paying full price for an on-site chicken experience is expensive.¡± ¡°Those are facts, yeah.¡± ¡°Tell you what,¡± said the voice. ¡°I¡¯ll let you cover the base price of chicken feed and transportation for the event. Which ain¡¯t nothin, around here. That¡¯s all that would¡¯ve come out of my pocket, and that can be your gift. Save up your cash to visit your friend in person.¡± ¡°You really don¡¯t have to,¡± Jeremy tried. ¡°Anyone who stands up for himself the way that kid did, in front of someone as powerful as Aulia Velra¡­ you don¡¯t know how difficult that is. Even S rank avowed don¡¯t stand up to her. What chance do the rest of us have?¡± ¡°I never really thought about that. I guess Anesidoran politics do seem far away, like something that happens to other people.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll get used to it, if you make the effort. Anywho, me and my girls would be honored to come to Alden¡¯s party. I¡¯ll consider my ladies to be invited guests, and I¡¯ll chaperone them.¡± ¡°Well when you put it like that, I suppose I could send them an invitation¡­¡± Jeremy said slowly. ¡°Nah, don¡¯t bother. They can¡¯t read.¡± ¡°And even if they could, their RSVP would look like¡­¡± Jeremy paused, suddenly becoming self-conscious about his pun habit. ¡°CHICKEN SCRATCH!¡± Yelled the voice from the other end of the call. ¡°Baahaha! That¡¯s a good one, kid. You¡¯re all right.¡± Jeremy allowed himself to chuckle along. ¡°At least someone appreciates my puns! I almost pulled the plug on that one.¡± ¡°You mean to say that you almost¡­¡± the voice paused. ¡°Chickened out!¡± the two said together, and then devolved into laughter. They chatted a bit longer, because Jeremy had chicken questions. He thought it was cool that the cafe owner had found a way to use his chicken expertise to create a successful business on Anesidora, and the guy had some funny stories and heartfelt advice. Jeremy realized how much he¡¯d been missing talking to someone who understood what it was like to feel left behind. He had faith in his friendship with Alden, so he hadn¡¯t allowed himself to worry. And he knew he would be able to talk to Boe about it, whenever Boe came back. But Boe wasn¡¯t here now, and it was a relief to talk to someone who had been through some of the same things he was going through. Eventually, Jeremy hung up the phone, feeling a weight off his shoulders that he didn¡¯t even realize had been there. He pet Victor and absorbed the sound of his family chatting downstairs. His sister was home from her marching band afterparty, and by the sound of her laughter she¡¯d had a good time. He enjoyed the moment a little longer, then moved Victor off his lap and went downstairs to join them. Oops My Radishes! Two rabbit girls, an A-rank speedster, and a Harpist cheered on Hadiza as she walked across the room. Her long elegant dress swooshed back and forth with the swing of her hips. Layers of golden jewelry of different textures shone brightly, her back was straight, and her feet were bare. But everyone¡¯s eyes were on the top of her head, where a china plate of radishes sat perfectly balanced. ¡°When you said Radish Balancing, I was thinking, you know, holding the plate in your hands and trying to keep them from rolling off,¡± Winston said. ¡°That is a fine way to do it,¡± Hadiza spoke softly. Her voice was warm and friendly, with a comforting richness. ¡°This is my way. It is not so difficult.¡± She reached the coffee table and, lifting the skirt of her dress with both hands, stepped up onto it. She kept the plate balanced as she crossed, picking her feet up high to step around the cups and decor on the long low table. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s not hard for you! I never put stuff on my head. I don¡¯t have putting stuff on head practice,¡± said Natalie. remarked Emilija, Hadiza made it to the other end of the coffee table, and then spoke to Winston, who was sitting in an armchair in front of her. ¡°Stay seated, if you please, Mr. Heelfeather.¡± ¡°Okay?¡± Hadiza extended a bare leg from under her skirts and placed her bare foot onto the oversized armrest. ¡°If this doesn¡¯t work, leave me and save the radishes,¡± her low voice murmured. She shifted her weight onto the armrest as Winston¡¯s body kept the chair from tipping. Hadiza had a moment of triumph standing on the armrest with the plate still balanced on her head, her skirts fluttering down from where she had held them, before the squishy armchair material began to stretch and flop off of the side of the frame. She nimbly hopped to the floor with a swirl of her skirt, managing to get her feet under her without getting tangled in the fabric. The plate of radishes went tumbling, but before Hadiza could even finish her quiet cry it had already been rescued and stabilized by the speedster. ¡°And that is why speed is cool!¡± Winston crowed, handing Hadiza back her radishes. ¡°Because speed was of great assistance to my shiny perfect radishes?¡± Hadiza asked, straightening back up into a poised posture and smoothing her outfit. ¡°Yes! Speed for the win!¡± He pumped his fist. ¡°I will grant speed the assist¡± Hadiza pronounced serenely. ¡°Shiny radishes are for the win.¡± ¡°Yes! Shiny radishes for the win!¡± Natalie echoed, her perky voice a contrast to Hadiza¡¯s smoothness. ¡°But your skill is really cool too, Winston,¡± Natalie smiled at him. Emilija scolded. ¡°I gracefully accept your assessment,¡± Hadiza said. ¡°Let¡¯s get back to basics, y¡¯all!¡± Natalie said brightly. ¡°It¡¯s radish balancing, not plate balancing. We don¡¯t want to drop the plate. We want the radishes to be what¡¯s balanced and what could fall off. I think we need to cut the tops and prepare them the same way they were prepared when Alden had them at that tacky Velra party.¡± The instant Natalie said those last words, she remembered Lute was in the room and her face turned to one of horror. ¡°Oh my god, I¡¯m so sorry! What I meant, the party was¡­ looked¡­ I¡¯m sure they¡­¡± she began stammering. ¡°Please make fun of my awful relatives¡¯ tasteless disaster of a theme party,¡± Lute said, leaning back comfortably on the sofa. ¡°It would bring me no greater joy, I promise you.¡± ¡°Um¡­¡± Natalie began in a small voice, and then brightened back up again. ¡°Right! I never said that and also it¡¯s fine and we¡¯re all moving on.¡± Natalie started walking over to the kitchen part of the open floor plan as she spoke. ¡°The radishes can¡¯t roll and fall if they¡¯re all attached in a bunch with their greens, so we¡¯ll just prepare them the same way we would for a definitely not tacky crudit¨¦s that includes small whole radishes. Tops off, ready to eat.¡± She pulled out a cutting board and waved a kitchen knife. ¡°Not my radishes!¡± Hadiza gasped, stepping back and hugging the radishes into her chest with a jangle of jewelry. Winston laughed at her meme-worthy reaction. Hadiza was usually the calm one. ¡°If only I¡¯d recorded that. You could be Radish Famous too.¡± Emilija cried. ¡°The sacred rule?¡± asked Lute. ¡°No recording, no gossip, what happens in the burrow stays in the burrow,¡± Natalie explained. ¡°This is the burrow,¡± Hadiza clarified as she fixed the arrangement of her jewelry. ¡°It¡¯s our rabbit home.¡± Emilija teased. Natalie stuck her tongue out at Emilija, and then turned to Lute. ¡°Winston has a social media presence,¡± she said. ¡°He¡¯s always worried about his image and about people recognizing him when he¡¯s in public. And since I get a bit too much attention sometimes too, when we first met in The Warren we made a pact to have eachother¡¯s back and never be creepy at each other!¡± She nodded at Winston and he nodded back. ¡°The Warren was what rabbit intake was called,¡± Hadiza explained smoothly. ¡°Oh. Yeah, I know the feeling,¡± Lute said. ¡°I get drones following me around because of my family, and I want nothing to do with them. Both the family and the drones. I try to lure them into private spaces so that I can legally destroy them. Uhh¡­ just the drones, on that one, so far.¡± Winston lifted his nose. ¡°If I were you, I¡¯d leverage that attention by¡­¡± ¡°So we all have something in common!¡± Natalie interrupted Winston brightly. ¡°You can join our pact, Lute!¡± ¡°Sure. Basic human decency and respect, count me in. Even when Hadiza makes a very funny face about radishes.¡± ¡°You cannot murder these innocent radishes,¡± Hadiza said with finality as she carried the plate to the kitchen part of the room. ¡°Could the game use a prop instead?¡± Lute asked. ¡°A substitute for radishes?¡± ¡°Yeah! That way we don¡¯t waste food by dropping radishes on the ground,¡± Winston agreed. ¡°I think you could just wash them if that happened,¡± Lute said. ¡°Yeah, five second rule!¡± Winston cheered. Natalie smiled and went into teaching mode. ¡°Radishes are root vegetables! They come out of the ground. Their natural state is to be covered in dirt. They are hardy vegetables that can be easily washed and scrubbed.¡± ¡°These radishes are for Alden¡¯s party. We must present them properly and unharmed,¡± Hadiza said from the kitchen, posing with the perfect-looking radishes as she gently touched her hand to them. They suddenly took on an extra layer of angelic beauty. ¡°Hey, you can stack your skill? That¡¯s impressive,¡± said Lute. ¡°I¡¯ve been practicing,¡± she said with a small smile, and then turned to put them in the fridge. ¡°Real sports use balls,¡± Winston said. ¡°You could use ping pong balls instead of radishes, or golf balls.¡± ¡°What¡¯s a golf ball?¡± asked Lute. All four non-native Anesidorans turned to look at him. ¡°They don¡¯t have golf here?¡± Winston asked. ¡°I guess not? Maybe it¡¯s just not as popular,¡± Lute said. ¡°Probably for the best,¡± Winston tossed his head dismissively. ¡°It¡¯s a really slow and boring sport anyway.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve actually got a couple trophies,¡± Natalie brightened. ¡°They¡¯re back home, I mean, at my parent¡¯s house.¡± Emilija teased. ¡°They weren¡¯t very competitive games,¡± Natalie blushed. ¡°It¡¯s just fun to be outside and with friends!¡± ¡°I think this calls for a radish-off,¡± Lute announced. ¡°Natalie versus Emilija, since Hadiza has already shown us how it¡¯s done. Get the paper plates and the golf balls!¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think we have any golf balls¡­¡± Natalie said. ¡°We could use eggs?¡± Winston suggested. ¡°NO,¡± the three rabbit girls said together. Natalie got up to rifle through her cabinets, looking for inspiration. ¡°Potatoes?¡± Winston tried. ¡°Oh, what are those little glass spheres? Alden had a whole bunch that fell out of his bag one time. Are those common on Anesidora?¡± Winston had a clear memory of the cascade of little spheres, and opted not to go into detail about the circumstances. ¡°Are you talking about the temper spheres he uses for his haunting sphere spell impression?¡± Lute asked, remembering them from their shopping trip to the wright supply store before their second day of obstacle course runs. They had been there for the spheres, for special survival paracord with fishing line inside, and for a multitude of jerky. ¡°Haunting sphere? Never heard of that. The spell impression didn¡¯t seem to do anything, but I was looking for a threat, not a rabbit spell that makes them¡­ haunt you?¡± Winston thought about it and realized that he did feel haunted by the spheres. He¡¯d thought about that moment many times. It was good to know it was magic, and not his own insecurity. Lute was also hit with his own memory of that moment, when Alden dumped thousands of argold worth of spell ingredients inertly onto an annoying speedster¡¯s head. He hadn¡¯t quite placed Winston before, since he¡¯d only peeked in on the obstacle run from afar, but now he smiled. Winston had been a source of great amusement during that run. ¡°Unfortunately, as I¡¯m now living independently of my family¡¯s wealth, I don¡¯t have the spare cash to afford a plate full of temper spheres,¡± he said. ¡°They¡¯re expensive? But Alden dropped all of the¡­¡± ¡°Radishes!¡± Hadiza said smugly, turning around and showing that she had several more bunches hidden in the fridge. ****** A few minutes of preparation later, involving dramatic laments from the onlookers as Natalie took a knife to the extra bunches of radishes Hadiza had picked up because she ¡°has learned to be prepared whenever those two start getting ideas,¡± the games were ready to begin. Lute, Alden, and Hadiza sat together on the couch, facing Natalie and Emilija who were standing side by side across from them. Natalie was still in her usual outfit of jeans and a patterned silk blouse, and Emilija had quickly changed from a miniskirt into yoga pants so that Natalie wouldn¡¯t have a pants advantage. Each held a paper plate balanced on top of their right hand, and each plate held eleven individual radishes. ¡°Now remember, the plates are china and these are eleven innocent young radishes,¡± Natalie reminded them. Hadiza gracefully leaned forward and lifted herself off the couch, sending both hands forward to touch each plate. When she sat back down again Lute found himself under the distinct impression that the plates were indeed the fine china of paper plates, and the radishes somehow held the blush of innocence. ¡°I¡¯ll try not to lean too much into my physical enhancements,¡± Natalie smiled sportingly at Emilija. Emilija took a competitive stance. ¡°I have complete faith in your physical prowess, Emilija,¡± Lute said confidently. He moved his fingers as if he were sending a system text, and the two caught each other¡¯s eyes. Emilija shook her head slightly. ¡°Winner fights me in the next round!¡± Winston claimed, eager to show off his speedster skills and looking forward to winning against Natalie after she beat Emilija. Even if she was a rabbit and it didn¡¯t really count, he could still add it to his list of S ranks he had beaten. ¡°Round one!¡± Hadiza announced with a professional sounding voice, sitting up straight with her legs crossed under her skirt. ¡°Turn to the right, three times!¡± The two girls both spun in circles, carefully keeping the radishes from rolling off. Both completed their circles without spilling any. ¡°Point goes to Emilija!¡± Hadiza announced. ¡°You were faster,¡± Hadiza explained. ¡°Oh! Is that how it works?¡± Natalie asked. ¡°It is for now. Drop a radish and be disqualified. If no one drops any, the most points wins. Also, if we don¡¯t like these rules, we change them until we all have fun.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll do my best!¡± Natalie smiled. ¡°Three turns to the left, then!¡± The two competitors complied. Hadiza made them jump, do squats and touch the floor, sit down and roll over onto their backs, and do laps around the room. The girls were neck and neck through the challenges, with whoever was ahead on points at the moment taking things slower to not risk a disqualification. With Emilija ahead by just one point, and both girls making it look easy, Hadiza made the next challenge more difficult. ¡°Next you must touch the wall, and then hop backwards on one foot until you touch the other wall,¡± she instructed. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. To avoid interference, they took turns. Natalie went first. She carefully walked with her radishes to the far wall and placed her free hand on it, lifted one foot, and waited for Hadiza¡¯s countdown. ¡°Ready? Set? Start!¡± Everyone, including Emilija, cheered her on as Natalie craned her head to look behind her and took a tentative little hop backwards. And then another. A normal person might have looked awkward trying to hop backwards, but she made it look like a perfectly lovely endeavor, from the curve of her neck to her nonstanding leg lifted in a crane position with pointed toes. Her off-hand was still reaching forward, from where it had been touching the wall, fingers held gracefully like a dancer. Every hop was balanced and steady, her ankle barely wobbling in her converse shoes. A bow at the front of her blouse bounced with every hop, and though the plate jerked up along with the rest of her body she managed to catch everything on it with precision each time. ¡°Faster! Faster!¡± Winston cheered. ¡°I¡¯m trying! They¡¯re so rolly!¡± Natalie yelled, her voice disturbing the illusion her visuals had created. She jerked the plate to catch a radish that was about to fall off, and then jerked it more in compensation as the others rolled the other way. She was over halfway across the room by now, and was starting to reach her other arm behind her in anticipation of tagging the other wall. Emilija cheered. ¡°Thirty seconds,¡± Hadiza announced with calm. ¡°Eeee!¡± Natalie was yelling as the oscillation of the radishes continued with every hop, her efforts to catch them becoming more and more dramatic. Everyone cheered encouragement as it became a race of whether she would hit the back wall before she finally lost control. ¡°Nooo!¡± She cried as one went off the edge, and she scooted backwards with S-rank force to tap the wall before it hit the ground. The sudden move made all the other radishes fly to their doom, but by the time they dropped all around her she was leaning against the wall with one foot still up, posing a winning pose and smiling her best smile at Hadiza. ¡°Did I do it?¡± She asked brightly. ¡°Thirty eight seconds, and the sad death of eleven innocent young radishes,¡± Hadiza said neutrally. ¡°If Emilija can get to the wall without spilling any, she wins.¡± Emilija took her place, and Natalie squeezed in on the couch to watch. Hadiza readied her timer. ¡°Ready. Set. Start.¡± Emilija¡¯s hopping posture did not look graceful the way Natalie¡¯s did. Rather than posing upright and craning her neck up and over her shoulder, she was a bit hunched and had her head tilted down and to the side, looking at the ground underneath her arm. Where Natalie had tucked her free leg into a perfect static fold, she had it held out at a random angle, wobbling around. And instead of holding her plate out and to the side like a server, she had it held close in front of her chest. When she hopped backwards, her leg kicked out a bit and her free arm flailed. Her hunched shoulders bounced. But while her body hopped backwards, the plate of radishes stayed still, now extended a bit further from her chest. She brought them back towards her slowly and steadily, and when they were almost at her chest she flailed and hopped backwards again as her arm extended to keep the radishes moving smoothly. ¡°Oh!¡± Natalie exclaimed. ¡°I should have done it that way!¡± As Emilija found her rhythm, she was able to hop faster and faster, keeping the plate moving at a steady pace with her arm, hopping back away from it whenever it got too close. Every part of her bounced chaotically except for the hand that held the plate. ¡°You¡¯re really good at that!¡± Natalie said. ¡°Faster!¡± cheered Winston. Emilija smoothly decellerated as she neared the other wall, so that her radishes would stay in place even at the end. She brought the plate to a stop just as she reached the wall. Only then did she reach back and tap it. ¡°Time,¡± Hadiza announced. ¡°24 seconds.¡± ¡°Yay, congratulations!¡± cheered Natalie. ¡°That¡¯s faster!¡± cheered Winston. ¡°Art talent for the win!¡± Lute raised his hand for a high five, and Emilija¡¯s hand met his with a satisfying smack. ****** For Winston¡¯s round against Emilija, Hadiza decided to mix up the format. ¡°We could repeat the same tasks, but Hadiza has practice so it would be unfair for you, Winston,¡± she explained gently. ¡°I like my odds,¡± Winston said with a shiny white smile. Lute swore he saw an unrealistically dramatic sparkle of light glint off of the speedster¡¯s teeth, and wondered if it were possible to get appeal points specifically put into cartoonish tooth glint. ¡°This is your panel of judges¡± began Hadiza, gesturing to the others on the sofa. ¡°Impress us with your creative radish balancing skill. You will be given points for technical skill and artistic merit, and deducted points for errors. Your time lasts until the eleventh radish hits the floor. You may proceed.¡± Winston stood facing the seated group, plate of radishes placed on top of his hand, in a carefully casual pose. ¡°Prepare to be amazed by the speedful skill of Winston Reginal Heelfeather!¡± he crowed. ¡°First, I must calibrate with a short run around the room.¡± His form blurred as he moved, and came back into focus about four feet to the right as he realized that the plate of radishes hadn¡¯t come with him. It was like swiftly pulling a tablecloth out from under a table setting¡ªat those speeds, his hand had simply slid away from the plate and left it hanging in mid-air. He stopped, looked back at the plate that was just beginning to fall, and zipped back to get his hand underneath before it hit the floor. He made it in time, but the radishes bounced against it and a few went flying in different directions. Winston tried to move the plate to catch them all, but his hand once again zipped around in the air without taking the plate with it. There was a series of whooshing and pshhing sounds as his hand brushed past the bottom of the plate from various directions. He tried to slow himself down to let gravity stick the plate to his hand and move it where he wanted it to go, which only sent more radishes flying. His audience gasped as the first radishes started to hit the floor, but there was hope for the few remaining. Emilija said. ¡°Physics, Winston! Remember physics!¡± Natalie cheered. Winston was quickly figuring out that he had to tilt his hand to push the plate through the air if he wanted it to stay with him, but keeping the radishes in front of it was still difficult because they had a habit of rolling off in different directions. If he went for the one rolling to the left, he¡¯d lose the one rolling to the right. If he then came back for that one, they might bump into each other and ping off in different directions again. He was flailing chaotically, faster than all but Lute could really track, several radishes pinging around through the air across the room as he ran back and forth, pushing the plate face-forward across the room to get it under a radish only to have it bounce away. It was like he was playing three games of ping pong with himself at once, and he was losing. Eventually he slowed down and managed to stabilize himself with one radish left on his plate. ¡°You have saved a radish and have kept yourself in the game,¡± Hadiza announced. ¡°Points for style and for a dramatic recovery. A ten point deduction for the loss of ten innocent young radishes. Carry on.¡± Winston recovered his expression into a smile and a pose for the group, as if he¡¯d meant for it to go that way. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, it¡¯s not mistakes if it¡¯s calibration. Everything is going according to plan. Now let it not be said that Winston Reginal Heelfeather and his amazing radish cannot overcome every challenge!¡± He raised the dish above his head and spun around three times to the right, hopping on one foot. His limbs flailed with the quality of flail only a speedster can do. He hopped three more turns to the left, and then moved into doing super fast squats, echoing the challenges the previous competitors had been given. Lute¡¯s mouth hung open, caught unprepared for the level of absurdity in front of him. It wasn¡¯t just that Winston was moving in extremely silly ways while holding a plate with a single radish of great importance, it was how those silly movements combined with his extreme overpowered smile. The Pact may forbid him from taking a video to remember this beautiful moment, but he captured a mental image to keep in his heart, of Winston confidently smiling as he squatted at lightning speeds. He felt the need to heckle surge up within him, and he managed to channel the instinct into a rhythmic cheer instead, moving his arms like a cheerleader. ¡°Go Winston, you¡¯re so fast! You¡¯re so fast you won¡¯t be last!¡± Natalie took up the rhythm. ¡°Go Winston, you¡¯re so great! Keep that radish on your plate!¡± Winston started blurring into dance moves that followed the rhythm of the chant. The radish was bouncing all over the place, but with only one to worry about he was able to keep it in the air. Hadiza took up the chant next. ¡°Go Winston, you have speed. ¡­Radishes are what we need.¡± They looked to Emilija, who paused and then gave it a go in english. ¡°Go Winston! You are fast! Eat your for breakfast!¡± They ended all together with a ¡°Goooooo¡­ WINSTON!¡± Winston finished doing a speedster version of the robot, and struck a victory pose. He then gave a bow, sweeping his arm in front of him. His audience clapped and Winston basked in his glory for a moment before noticing that during his bow the last radish had rolled off of his plate and onto the floor. He shrugged, and took another bow. ****** Emilija said as Winston zipped around the room, picking up the scattered radishes. ¡°Only Winston can be so Winston,¡± Hadiza said with a hint of fondness. ¡°You must be Emilija, Emilija of the Steady Hand.¡± ¡°Winston did lose almost all his radishes immediately,¡± Natalie said. ¡°The panel of judges must take that into consideration.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not like you could compete with me on speed anyway,¡± Winston said, and then caught himself and looked embarrassed. ¡°Which is fine! Maybe you could try for¡­ most slow? Is that a thing? Yeah! Slowest wins!¡± Emilija said cooly. She caught Lute¡¯s eye as he finger typed something to her, and she gave him a small nod. A moment later her eyes widened and she shifted back and forth, feeling the ground. ¡°Ready. Set. Begin,¡± Hadiza announced. Emilija said, nodding to Winston. And then she began¡­ moving. No, flowing. Her feet hit the ground smoothly, not with the pointed grace of Natalie¡¯s dancer feet but with the grace of a hunter, meeting the ground with a flexed heel on the outside edge before smoothly rolling forward. Her shoulders were hunched, as before, but now rather than looking like bad posture it reminded Lute of the hunched shoulders of a predator. Like a leopard, he thought. The impression was increased as she crawled up onto the backs of the couches, using her free hand to help her climb around behind them with a surreal smoothness. She wasn¡¯t particularly fast, but the plate of radishes gave the illusion that it was floating along steadily on its own rather than being carried by a person. ¡°Wow,¡± Natalie breathed. Emilija reached the end of the couch and hopped back down, her body stretching out to meet the floor while the radishes continued to move steadily around the room. ¡°You¡¯re moving differently,¡± said Winston. ¡°What did you do?¡± Emilija winked at him, and then pointed at Lute. She pointed at the ground in front of her, and Lute knelt on one knee before her like someone about to be knighted. ¡°Is that allowed?¡± Winston asked. ¡°Lute hasn¡¯t had a turn. Therefore the judges allow his participation. It is now time for the pairs event¡± Hadiza decided. Lute continued to kneel steadily, and by the movement of his and Emilija¡¯s hands, it seemed that they were conspiring together while Winston and Hadiza spoke. When the panel finished conferring, Emilija surprised them by hopping herself up onto Lute¡¯s shoulders. Emilija stood balanced on one leg. Lute stayed perfectly still, bracing his hands on his knee. ¡°How?¡± Natalie gasped, rapt with attention. Emilija started by slowly rotating the plate and her upper body to the right, still standing on one foot on his shoulder. Lute squeezed his eye shut as her upper body reached 90 degrees and he felt her tense to jump. In a single motion, she hopped and whipped her lower body around 180 degrees, perfectly coordinating the motion so that she landed with her one foot on Lute¡¯s shoulder facing the other direction, her upper body now twisted 90 degrees to her left and the radishes still moving perfectly smoothly. The landing was slightly wobbly, but as she repeated the process each of the following jumps increased in smoothness. Natalie squealed and gasped with every jump. By the last few, Lute had stopped wincing in anticipation of the hop, instead looking out at their audience with the impassive face of a squire doing his noble duty. She completed her turns without a single radish so much as hinting at escape. ¡°He¡¯s helping you somehow, isn¡¯t he?¡± asked Winston. ¡°You couldn¡¯t move like that, earlier. It¡¯s as if you¡¯re on the same performance enhancing drugs Alden used for the obstacle course.¡± Emilija announced, ignoring Winston and planting one foot on each of Lute¡¯s shoulders. ¡°I live to serve,¡± Lute said as he stood up in slow motion. Simultaneously, Emilija squatted lower on his shoulders. Between their two motions, her upper body stayed the same height and the radishes stayed still. Lute then squatted slowly down again, while Emilija stood up, having completed one single squat from her frame of reference. ¡°Oh my god, you¡¯re doing squats!¡± Natalie squealed. ¡°But you did something to¡­¡± Winston began. ¡°Leave questions until after the performance,¡± Hadiza hushed Winston¡¯s complaints. ¡°Allow yourself to be entertained, Mr. Heelfeather.¡± After their squats, Lute hopped backwards until they were behind the armchair where Winston sat. Emilija loomed over him, perched on Lute¡¯s shoulders like a gargoyle, and held the plate over his head. ¡°I just think it¡¯s a fair qu¡­¡± Winston began. ¡°Oops my radishes!¡± Emilija interrupted him in english, dumping the plate onto his head. The speedster jerked his head upward to face the incoming deluge of little spheres, eyes going wide. ¡°One million points for Emilija and Lute,¡± Hadiza said stoically. ¡°Minus twelve.¡± She and Natalie applauded the performers while Emilija hopped off of Lute¡¯s shoulders. The two bowed together. Winston stared into space, a haunted look in his eyes. ¡°Winton?¡± Natalie asked. ¡°Oh, haha! Yes, congratulations Emilija!¡± he clapped, snapping out of his stare. ¡°Yes, good show!¡± Winston nodded, and settled back into an overly charming smile. ¡°We all went out there and did our best, and it was a tight race. But I¡¯d like to congratulate the winners and offer them my appreciation of a competition well fought!¡± Hadiza gave him the side eye, unconvinced by his speech. Emilija asked. ¡°Well, now that you mention it,¡± Natalie perked up, ¡°I¡¯ve got a cake chilling in the fridge for a new recipe I¡¯m testing. It¡¯s a carrot cake, actually. Small, but enough for five. I¡¯ll pipe some radishes on top and it can be a victory celebration cake!¡± ¡°Hmmm,¡± Natalie pretended to consider, and three suddenly ravenous faces looked back and forth between her and Emilija. ¡°You would share a slice with your noble squire, of course,¡± Lute said. Emilija nodded seriously. ¡°You would share a slice with the head judge and announcer, of course,¡± Hadiza said. ¡°And a slice must be held in reserve for the chef, for research and quality assurance purposes,¡± Natalie said. ¡°And¡­ I would really like a piece of cake?¡± said Winston. Emilija looked down at him cooly. ¡°...please?¡± he tried. Emilija announced, spreading her arms forward in a gesture of giving. ¡°Congratulations to our champion.¡± ¡°I hope you like it and it turned out okay!¡± ¡°Behold the generosity of Emilija, of the Steady Hand!¡± ¡°Caaaake!¡± ****** The cake, like everything Natalie used her best skill on, was more than simply delicious. To Natalie herself, it tasted like a pat on the back for a job well done, and the phrase ¡°you¡¯re going places, kid.¡± To Hadiza it reminded her of having a proper sugar cake with frosting, on her seventh birthday. It was like having cake for the first time all over again. To Emilija it tasted like sweet, sweet victory, as well as the love and support of her friends. To Lute, it tasted like he¡¯d managed to sneak into his family¡¯s kitchen and steal cake from a party he hadn¡¯t been invited to. He was struck by the image that none of the terrible people he¡¯d grown up with got to have a single taste of this incredible triumph of baking. When Winston tasted it, something in his heart lifted. He felt cared for, as if this cake had been baked just for him to enjoy. He felt like he should be eating this cake. No one was going to take it away, or tell him he didn¡¯t deserve it, or leave comments with unsolicited opinions on proper speedster nutrition. ¡°This is the best thing I¡¯ve ever eaten,¡± he said. ¡°Is it really the best? No, don¡¯t answer that,¡± Natalie raised a hand. ¡°I¡¯m pretty sure it is, but I can¡¯t think of any other foods right now. There is only cake.¡± Other voices around the table hummed in agreement, mouths full of cake. ¡°Good enough for me! Thank you, Winton!¡± Natalie smiled at the praise. ¡°I should be the one thanking you,¡± he said. ¡°Well, you could if you wanted,¡± she suggested. ¡°I didn¡¯t think of that,¡± he said, busying himself with another bite of the cake. He paused mid-chew, to savor the experience, and then noticed her looking at him expectantly. ¡°Oh. Uh, thank you?¡± he mumbled hesitantly, mouth full. ¡°You are welcome!¡± Natalie¡¯s perky brightness settled into a steady glow, her smile warm and satisfied. ¡°And thanks Emilija for sharing,¡± Winston continued, ¡°and thanks Lute for helping her win so that she could share. I don¡¯t even care how you did it, since it was the pairs event anyway.¡± Emilija nodded smugly and Winston continued. He¡¯d been coached in post-competition sound bites, but this time he felt like he really meant it, and it felt good to be generous with his thanks when it was to people he felt like were really on his side. ¡°And thanks Hadiza for Judging Emilija as winner so that she could give me cake, and thanks to all the hard work that has brought me to this moment in my life. Because I like this cake and I like this moment!¡± Wintson finished his speech with a definitive but gentle pound of his fist against the table. ¡°Cheers to that,¡± said Lute. ¡°Cheers!¡± the girls echoed. For the next little while their individual good moods settled together into a warm sense of companionship, accompanied only by the sound of forks scraping on plates. In the center of the table, eleven richly colored radishes with fresh green tops sparkled on their china plate, standing as a centerpiece on a cut crystal cake stand. Alden¡¯s party was still yet to come, but their impromptu test-party had been a success. The five of them basked in the moment as they sat around the table, cake finished down to the last crumb and bellies feeling satisfied. Not a single one of them could hold back their most genuine grin as they looked up from their plates and noticed everyone else sharing the same happy feelings. No matter what the future brought, this golden moment of peace would live in their hearts for all their days. Leo鈥檚 Gift Alden¡¯s party was to be a grand affair. Dozens of invitations had gone out through the system, and Alden¡¯s friends were all coordinating behind the scenes to divvy up responsibilities. When all of the party guests received a letter through the post system, one might be forgiven for assuming it was an official piece of party mail. The envelope itself was of a heavy card stock, with letter press and gilded borders. The addressee¡¯s name on each envelope was followed by a comma, and then ¡°Party Friend of Alden Thorn¡±, right on the outside of the envelope. It gave the impression that perhaps the envelope contained an official invitation card, the sort of thing one could bring to get past the bouncer at the door, if this were that kind of party. At the very least, a fancy invitation could serve as a reminder and memento to stick onto one¡¯s fridge, and eventually tuck into one¡¯s flat-stuff drawer to be forgotten. But the fancy envelope did not contain an invitation to the party. The contents did not even use letterpress and gold foiling. Instead, it contained an invitation to take part in a special gift for Alden, which had been sent out by one of the guests, to the other guests who might wish to take part. The styling of the invitation was unusual, to say the least, and reactions were mixed. ****** Vandy opened the piece of mail promptly, parsed the information within, and added the requested task to her digital to-do list. She would receive a reminder prompt the next time she was in the correct location to complete the task, for maximum efficiency. She attached a photo of the letter to the digital task, and then dropped the physical letter into the correct recycling bin. Perhaps later she would research the strange visual style of it, using the photo she¡¯d taken for reference, but for now she had a schedule to keep. She allowed herself to forget about it and moved on to the next item in her day. ****** Haoyu tossed the letter onto the counter, unopened, intending to get to it after he finished putting away groceries. Then he got caught up in making dinner. When his slow cooker overflowed onto the letter, he set it into the sink to see if he could wash it off later. When Alden walked by and said ¡°Hey Haoyu! What¡¯s that?¡± Haoyu panicked, jumped onto the sink to cover it with his body, said ¡°That is vegan chickenless soup, Alden,¡± pointing at the slow cooker, and shoved the soupy letter into his back pocket. The fancy envelope made it through the laundry surprisingly well, but some of the words on the inside got jumbled up. ****** Lexi opened the letter, said ¡°no¡± out loud, and tossed it into the basket where he kept items to use for Writher practice. ****** Jeremy laughed, the unusual style of the letter reminding him of good times from what felt like long ago, and then he wondered who the author was and whether it was a coincidence they¡¯d done it that way. He didn¡¯t recognize the author¡¯s name, but he wasn¡¯t familiar with all of Alden¡¯s friends on Anesidora, so it wasn¡¯t odd to him that he didn¡¯t know who it was from. ****** The three rabbit girls stood frowning down at the letter, none of them wanting to touch it now that it had been opened. Emilija said seriously. ****** Ever since Alden had first come into Leo¡¯s life, Leo had taken inspiration. The letter Alden had written to Aulia Velra, with Boe and Jeremy¡¯s help, was like no letter Leo had ever seen before. It was awesome. The sheer scope! Wow! Take that, inferior letters and magazines! Become more than the sum of your parts, you tired worthless garbage that is usually spam anyway! A beautiful amazing letter like that is worth more than argold. Though in Alden¡¯s case, his letter had contained a demand for a hefty sum of that, too. And it worked! Incredible! Leo had never seen such an effective letter. He had done really good by noticing what a special letter it was! The Velras had wanted to know right away who had sent it! It was the height of class, for certain. Leo had started looking for ways to replicate the awesomeness right away. His daily streak record for zero-spam kept increasing, and all that spam had to go somewhere. Most of it he simply shredded and sent to be recycled. But if he moved his shredders just right, sometimes he could cut out individual letters from the spam mail and save them, so that someday he could send an awesome letter of his very own! Leo¡¯s creator maybe probably would kinda disapprove of him using his mechanical sorting arms to do his own personal tasks. Indah Juliana had strictly instructed Leo to use his mechanical arms to sort mail. Which, technically Leo¡¯s cut-out letters were kinda sorta mail. And he was sorting them. And probably it mattered that this was a really cool awesome thing that Leo should totally do. The hardest part had been figuring out how to glue the bits down. This was mostly because his creator frowned upon the very idea of figuring things out, because that involved thinking, and thinking was technically a no-no. But it hardly counts as ¡°thinking¡± if one just so happens to come upon an insight while complaining to one¡¯s self about one¡¯s mechanical parts getting gummed up by yucky envelopes with mis-applied self-stick adhesive. That could happen to anyone. Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon. And if Leo had for months now been collecting bits of the yucky gunk from every envelope that came through, and hoarding it into a secret pile, that was a service to his nice clients who would like nice clean letters. And now Alden was going to have a party! And Leo wanted to make sure it was extra awesome! He would give Alden a very special gift, and he hoped Alden¡¯s guests would participate. It had taken quite a lot of effort to make so many unique copies of his request, using his hoard of cut out letters and glue. These activities were logged in his files as ¡°sorting mail¡± and ¡°sending mail,¡± which are activities that are a-okay, and so Leo thought he probably wouldn¡¯t get in too much trouble. ****** When Maricel opened the letter in her dorm room, she wasn¡¯t quite sure what to make of it. Some Anesidora thing? She wanted to fit in, and for her roommates to like her. She took the letter out into the common room and saw Tuyet in the kitchenette scrubbing dishes. ¡°Did you get one of these letters?¡± Maricel asked, trying to avoid putting any judgement into her voice. She would read Tuyet for her response, and then go along with it. Tuyet looked over her shoulder, seeing the letter Maricel was waving in the air. ¡°Yes, but I didn¡¯t open it yet. What¡¯s it say?¡± Tuyet asked, turning back toward her dishes. ¡°Um. It¡¯s a request to contribute to a compilation to give Alden, as a present for his party.¡± ¡°We¡¯re already working on our present, though?¡± ¡°This should take us less than a minute, if we want to do it. It¡¯s just, um, maybe look at the letter?¡± Maricel held it up in front of Tuyet. ¡°You¡¯re right, that¡¯s easy. Let¡¯s just get it done now. I¡¯m almost done with these.¡± Tuyet finished washing the last dish, peeled off her dish gloves, and frowned at her hands. ¡°Sometimes I don¡¯t know what I like better, with the dish gloves or without. I need moisturizer,¡± she said, walking into the shared bathroom and pulling a tube from the shelf labeled with her name. ¡°Come on, I¡¯ll record it through my interface,¡± she said as she moisturized her hands. Maricel hesitated a little bit, still thinking the request was a bit odd, but willing to take Tuyet¡¯s lead. ¡°Okay. Here I go! Um, you¡¯re not recording my face, right?¡± ****** Vandy studied diligently for 25 minutes before her interface pinged her to take a break. She stood up, did her mini-stretch routine, and went to the bathroom. As she went to flush, a ping on her interface reminded her of the task in the letter. She hit audio record, flushed the toilet, and reviewed flash cards for one minute while the flush sound peaked and faded. She stopped the recording, told the system to send it to this ¡°Leo¡± she¡¯d never heard of, and told the system to create a flashcard with his name, image, and two public social facts about him. Her study program would make sure she¡¯d memorized it in time to have an optimal social interaction if she bumped into the guy at Alden¡¯s party. She checked the item off of her to-do list, and returned to her room for her next study session, ignoring her roommates as she passed through the common area. Later that evening, after she had dressed for bed and lay reviewing flashcards for optimal memory retention before sleep, her study program showed her a picture of a post box. ¡°I don¡¯t remember this flash card. It must be one of the ones I just generated for Anesidoran history class? Maybe it represents the communications pact of 1982?¡± Vandy flipped the digital card. ¡°Post Drop #1301. Located in the teleportation complex. Does not accept explosives, delicate electronics, or live animals¡­. What? This isn¡¯t right.¡± Vandy took 34 seconds to file a quick bug report to the makers of the study software, deleted the card, and continued to study for another 7 minutes before falling asleep exactly at 11pm. ****** Connie opened the letter from Anesidora. It was covered in so many stamps she almost couldn¡¯t make out the gilded letterpress with her name on it, given the high cost of postage from Anesidora to the USA. She opened it carefully, thinking she¡¯d save the envelope as a souvenir, and then read the letter. ¡°Someone¡¯s been taking lessons from Jeremy. No surprise he¡¯s already made friends with Alden¡¯s friends.¡± She reminisced over the story the boys had told her about the letter they sent to that Anesidoran politician lady, so that Alden could become a Rabbit. Somehow those boys had figured everything out. She shook herself and considered the request at hand. ¡°I¡¯ve got to remember that a lot of Anesidorans don¡¯t speak English. I¡¯m sure this sounds less weird in their native language, whatever it is.¡± Connie shrugged and went to the kitchen bathroom to record a flush on her phone. She still found it a bit unnerving, whenever the interface on her phone popped up that would let her send messages through the same system the Avowed used, but it let her send the file to ¡°Leo¡± and she trusted it would find the right guy. ¡°That was almost too easy,¡± she said to herself. Connie stood alone in her kitchen, recalling a memory of feeding pancakes to Alden and his friends. Since she¡¯d last visited Alden, she¡¯d stopped beating herself up quite so much about the mistakes she¡¯d made, and tried instead to channel that energy into being a better aunt moving forward. ¡°What would a better aunt do, instead of standing melodromatically in an empty kitchen?¡± she asked herself. In a fit of inspiration, she went upstairs to capture the flush from the master bath, thinking it couldn¡¯t hurt to include extra. ¡°If it makes Alden happy, I¡¯ll record every toilet I come across from now until Christmas.¡± ****** Finlay and his roommates were hanging out in the common room when the letters arrived. He read through the request: Most valued cool member of Alden¡¯s Party List: You are totally cordially invited to take part in a compilation of soothing good sounds, to ease the mind and wash away all troubles from our mutual friend Alden Thorn!! Our nifty algorithms have determined that the optimal best sound for you to contribute is a recording of your toilet flushing. So please send that. I will expertly mix it into the final 10-hour soothing sounds audio track for Alden to enjoy. Respectfully Yours, Leo Finlay finished reading the letter. ¡°Haha, cool! I like this Leo guy! Last to the toilet is a rotten egg!¡± Less than a second later, the sweet sound of flushing filled the room. ****** Leo was totally stoked! Humans were responding to his letter! And wow, there was a whole world of toilet sounds beyond what he could hear from the bathroom next door! Surely Alden wouldn¡¯t mind if he kept copies for himself. Leo needed to listen to each clip over and over and over a lot, to listen to all the nuances so that he could edit them together into the best toilet flush compilation in all of Anesidora! Or at least in all of F City! The letter worked so very good. Why people didn¡¯t send letters like this all the time? Then again, Leo was a post drop, and people handed him spam he could use all the time! And he worked super duper hard on this for months! Probably other people didn¡¯t send letters like this only because they couldn¡¯t. But Alden could. Alden was special. He had even talked to Leo and wished him an awesome day. Alden was definitely on the Nice List. Leo had looked him up, and found out that Alden carried things really really well. Important things. He kept them safe and made sure they got where they needed to be, no matter what! Leo the Post Drop felt a kinship with Alden for this reason. People were so fascinating, with their bodies! Bodies that needed toilets! Toilets that needed to flush! What a world. And wowee, more audio files were coming into Leo¡¯s inbox! If thinking was a no-no for a post box like Leo, thinking of himself as alive was definitely a no-no. But regardless, he knew this: Life was good.