Arc Ibarra, Live! @ KPLU

Witch | 477 | they/she [Dependant City of Ruin Muse] FC: Eiza González

[arcibarra]

Name: Aracely “Arc” Ibarra Occupation: Radio Host and Producer @ KPLU Age: 477 (February 23, 1548, physically mid-30’s) Sexuality: Lesbian Species: Witch Clan/Pack/Coven?: Augury Hometown: Pamplona, Spain Relationship Status: Widowed Single Personality Traits: Hyperfocused, Kind, Sarcastic, Community-Oriented, Adaptable, Disorganized

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TW: Historical colonialism/imperialism, forced marriage, infidelity, religious persecution, loss of limb, violence

001. Your mother is from across the sea, and your father is rich enough to get away with marrying her. You are of two worlds, Old and New, and once again your father’s riches are what secure you a life well above the station that those born here think you deserve. You try to tell yourself that the ring on your finger doesn’t feel like an anchor, that your husband is kinder than most, but it doesn’t work. 

002. You meet her at a wedding, some event where you’re expected to do little more than be beautiful and be his. You think it’s safe to whisper your secrets to her across the pillows, and she shows you just how wrong you are. Your husband’s secrets are your undoing, and the people of Paris are not forgiving of those who pray differently than they do. Your magic is a scream, tearing into the minds of every witch in the city, a desperate cry for help as the massacre reaches your door. 

003. Your saviors come late, finding you in a convent, but they came for you, and that’s what you cling to. Your magic isn’t a singular gift, your reliance on others woven into every spell and enchantment. You are an amplifier, a beacon of magic to push the spells of others further. A smaller, weaker coven can grow powerful with a witch like you at their side, and when they begin to dabble in life-extending magic, you are allowed to reap the benefits. It is decade-by-decade, but as more of the humans you knew in life fall to age, you know how lucky you are to have this at all. 

004. As your coven grows, your responsibilities do too. Contracts, deals with other covens, your work is never over and you spend more days on the road than off of it. The news that you are needed by a branch in the New World brings yet another change, and a rude awakening to the vicious truths of colonization. When your role in the rituals is complete, you begin to search for new witches, new types of magic that would be crushed under the heel of these growing empires. One witch cannot hold all of the Old World at bay, but you do what you can, taking only the knowledge to preserve what may become lost practices. 

005. You cross paths with a man with ambition in his bones and promises of new magic. His methods are taken, rewritten, and reworked to be the basis for your longevity. Your left arm is a small price in exchange for the closest thing you will get to immortality. Your healing may not be quickened, but aging and death are held at bay. Limbs can be reattached, held in place for connections to be reforged and joints to reunite like old friends. Your arm never returns, but the world is better off for it. Witches everywhere can use your amplifiers, and your own life force gets a cut for every bit of magic they pour into them, a good deal all around.

006. Your amplifiers are useful, and magic still fascinates you, but humans have begun to adapt in ways that you never could have dreamed of. Radio, telegraphs, telephones, the ways they manage to connect across the world is fascinating, and you need to know more. You pull magic into wire, weave spells across radio waves, and get fingers in enough pots that hubs of human communication begin to overlap with the ones you’d already tied your magic to. For the first time, you feel the rush of shaping a civilization, pushing it to grow in specific ways and knowing that you could live to see the end result.

007. Love is a silly thing. You never thought you'd get married again, not when you love in ways that governments would never respect, but the woman you love's birth certificate says she's a man, and that's good enough for a well-bribed priest. You've had children before, with lovers whose bodies didn't match who they truly were, followed your bloodlines and looked after them when you could, but Raúl is the first one you've stayed to raise. Life is beautiful for almost a decade, until a new war breaks out and a whole branch of the network collapses. You're pulled away by obligation, by your role in magic over your role to your family. It's hard to parent over letters and phone calls, and by the time you've repaired the damage to your network, the damage to your family is irreversible.

008. The internet is a beautiful thing. Cell phones are a wonder, and every day you are learning something new about the ways humans can extend their own personal influence, the thing that set you apart so starkly centuries ago becoming commonplace now. Witches can be more connected than ever, and you’re elated about it until you start finding gray hairs. Until you had to start making the old potions again. Until you had to give up another bone in your arm to keep yourself young and alive, and— 

009. It’s fine. Everything is fine. You’re going to make sure of it.

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Wanted Connections - TBD

[blccmedrage]

"Does it?" She asks about the singing, something she knows she'll never experienced, something she knows that very few ever have. Arc was something altogether different from your typical witch, fascinating, a source of magic. Their hands entwine, warmth taking over the crisp ice of death as they do.

"I'd have to say it is becoming fairly common for those from my past to reappear lately. That or their descendants. What has brought you here?" She asks, stepping closer, hand sliding to grasp at wrist. It's comforting in the oddest way, being near someone so old and still hearing the rhythm of a still beating heart.

"Mmm…neither here or there. Settled for the time, but there is always room to leave. It seems though, that other forces of nature are keeping me planted here for the time being. You know I have a knack for meeting the last in a line and it would seem I've found two. And another witch older than she seems. Perhaps it's something telling me I'm to come to an end as well. But time will tell. And you and I, I like to think are a couple survivors." She chuckles. "Lord, I forgot how old I sound around people more my age."

[arcibarra]

“I’m here for my network, although I plan to stay a few more months to see a few other obligations through.” Arc said. The two of them were the same, in that way, never truly settling in one place, always on the move.

Always running into the reminders of long-dead old friends, their descendants always finding a way to cross into their paths. Speaking of descendants... 

“My grandchildren are in town now, settling for good I believe. How long has it been since I’ve last seen you? It might have been just before the eldest was born...” Had it really been that long? “You should come by the radio station sometime. That’s where I’ve set up shop, we can catch up properly, without the echoes of this cove.” 

Even with the tight hold on Daniella’s hand, the discordant magical noise of the cove was throwing Arc off of their rhythm, having to be helped from stumbling every few steps. 

[sybellaleon]

"Yes, abluela, I'll let you know if there's ever too much trouble. I've handled things okay so far, though," she said, combing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Most everyone's stayed diplomatic." Too diplomatic, sometimes - the peace bordered on unsettling at times.

"Everything's been fine," Sybella replied. "I think it suits me, it's just... so different from..." she hesitated on home and instead finished it, "Georgia. Everything's just so much more here, more supernatural than I've ever dealt with before. I've... I haven't seen much, lately, but I haven't been trying, exactly. I'm working on it." She traced her finger along the edge of the menu. "What about it makes it so much more suggestible? Are places really that... powerful?"

[arcibarra]

“This town has one of the nodes of my network in it. Some witches find that invigorating, others find it overwhelming.” Arc said, shrugging. “You don’t have as much control over when your abilities come into play, and that might be made worse by proximity.”

Most of Arc’s past children had those sorts of issues with their magic around the nodes of their network if they didn’t have complete control of their abilities. Generations of separation from the source got better and better about it, but that didn’t stop Arc from worrying about their current grandchildren. “Have you noticed anything like that? An increase in your visions? The appearance of anything unexplainable?” 

[miyazakit]

The moment a door cracked open, Tetsuya knew a disturbance. Power humming on a frequency only few knew how to access. Waves that disrupt the peace of the channels. A sensei steps inside, fabric shoes that take a phantom’s pace into his lounge. Air trembles at the edge of his fingertips.

Pain has no place, here. Even if he feels every aching vein cut away with the potency of a body decaying. Beneath black robes, is a map of everywhere dark roots have taken hold; impossible to slice away, when it has wrapped knots around his bones, and burrowed into the marrow. He does not yield to agony. But he is familiar with it, in a way he has never known before.

A light comes on beside a computer set-up, and there they are — comfortably lounging in a chair on the other side of the room. Miyazaki doesn’t spare much thought to his fridge; necessary stock, not wastage.

“Arc.” An acknowledgement — a calm, calculated utter. He imagines they have their own manner of tracing him. It’s their power that kept Miyazaki’s own dampened all these years. Kept it at bay enough to not beacon his movements to every Voiceless in the region. Finding him has never been impossible for them.

He doesn’t ask what they’re doing here. Because he expects they’ll make it known.

He first tends to plant at the window beside Aracely with hands that bleed water and warmth. A slow trickle of power that he refuses to be stunted.

Miyazaki then takes himself to the kitchen with intentional precision, where he makes the decision for water over sake. But it’s a close call for a man who rarely drinks. Even rarer — is for a crumbling man to make a quip, “I hope not to find bones in my walls.”

[arcibarra]

“Not in your walls.” The quip draws a slight smile to Arc’s face, even as they look over the man in concern. Whatever was wrong with him, the new, discordant noise that pierced through the usual melody of his magic and the static of his suppression, it was louder now, overpowering all else to insist on being known.

They watched closely as Tetsuya moved through his apartment, tending to his plant in the silence that often fell between them. He wasn’t much slower, tense in a way that suggested he was putting in a lot more effort to do what he used to do casually, to try to avoid appearing as if there had been any change.

“You never took up my invitation to come see the station.” Arc stated, eyes still following him as he crossed the room, looking for any detail that might reveal what was going on. There was no real offense in their voice as they carried on, “Have you become so misanthropic you can’t bring yourself to visit an old friend?” 

[killvrinstinct]

        vera nods, reaching inside of their coat to procure a black file. before the conclave had sharply switched mysteries, vera had spent the evening keeping eyes on kanemaru and their involvement, and searching for information on daylight jewelry. if it was possible to eliminate one of their weaknesses, vera is more than eager to try. 

        the vampire hands arc the folder. inside is photocopies of a few spell book pages containing instructions of the creation of daylight jewelry, and one of vera’s notes on a conversation they had with a witch at the conclave, talking about the spell.  “ i have pieces of it, but i can get more. from what i gather, it’s a newer spell, and several of the witches who have practiced it in town have left or disappeared. ”

        but they intend to make good on their commitment. vera’s on their way to making a career out of research, out of finding and details and memorization. practicing law is one thing, but, for now, vera’s among the minds doing the heavy lifting for the names on the building. good at it, too.  “ i understand that it will take time, and that there will be a physical price to pay, but i appreciate your consideration, nonetheless. ”

[arcibarra]

The comment about witches disappearing was... alarming, but not as much as it might be. Arc already had a habit for disappearing, anyways. 

“As much information as you can, please. I’ve given enough of myself to magic rituals already, I’d prefer not to give up more for something that wasn’t fully researched.” They turned the pages over, taking in the scrawled notes on the subject. It was an interesting ritual, even if they had a general lack of interest in vampire-centric magic. 

“I’ll look this over. Be sure to send anything else you find here, so I can get a better idea of what I am working with. We can attempt this in...” They squinted at one of the pages, trying to work out a time-table. “Two weeks. You provide the materials, I compare my understanding of this ritual with yours, and you ensure that my granddaughter's place in your clan’s territory does not threaten her life or put her in any danger from Kanemaru or any other vampiric clans. Understood?” 

[arcibarra]

Arc Ibarra as Hermes

Tempted by the promise of tricks and treats, Arc floats from group to group, looking for something of interest. Among the crowd is their grandchildren, @sybellaleon and @lottieleon, whose costume choices guided Arc to this one in particular. They'll be keeping a close eye on them to make sure nothing too terrible happens to them while they're here.

[arcibarra]

Who: @miyazakit When: Late in the evening Where: Miyazaki's Place

There were two sorts of attitudes people had about life, when they got as old as Arc was. They either focused on the ends instead of means, cutting out pointless flair and anything deemed purposeless, or they reveled in the drama, the little bits of joy to be had between goals met and major events. 

Arc was, admittedly, more the former instead of the latter, but they had their moments of flair. Leaning on Tetsuya’s kitchen counter in the dark, waiting for the man to get home and turn on the lights, that was more for the drama of it all than anything practical. 

They were old, they could find what little fun they could where it was available, and besides, their old friend had neglected to visit the radio station as promised. They could forgo the courtesy of knocking.

Arc heard him before they saw him. As quietly as Tetsuya moved, there was no hiding that familiar static of his magic still holding a strange frequency of something else. It was enough of a warning to prepare for his potential immediate reaction to be more inclined towards intruders than old friends before the light flicked on and they were face-to-face.

“Are you hiding all of your food, Tetsuya? Your fridge is a wasteland.” No greeting, no prelude. Those would have happened if he had taken the invitation to come see Arc at their place of work, instead of making them track him down.

[rivenvictors]

Rude. Was that what he was? Riven was arrogant, certainly, but not rude. He had asked if she needed help, hadn’t he? A curious brow cocked as his lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. "You’ve got my attention now, witch. Maybe I’ll be of your aid, if you’ll be of mine."

Mischief flickered in his mismatched eyes. He had no idea what sort of ritual she was tangled in, but he wanted to find out. Her magic had a funny taste, and he was drawn to it at once, prompting him to close the distance until their hands met.

It tickled, that current running through her fingers. Soft and silken, like a veil slipping from her skin to his, winding over him in invisible threads. Riven pulled her upright, then stepped back, allowing her more space to move, and breath. "You’ll tell me your name now," he said, eyeing the woman, "or am I asking for too much?”

[arcibarra]

“Thank you.” They nodded their head to the man as he helped them up. Back on their feet, Arc was much steadier, the brief contact with the other witch offering a momentary respite from the echoing of the cove. 

“It’s not too much to ask, although I wonder what you might need aid with in a place like this.” They said, taking a step towards their destination, the sudden shift in the cove’s music from their movement making it go much slower than they’d like. They turned back to him to answer. “My name is Arc. And yours?”

[killvrinstinct]

        while vera, in part, represents nsilo when they’re here on kanemaru’s behalf, there’s not a person in the world that cares less about her problems with the lomidze’s than them. they know better than to mention it in front of the clan leader, but anything beyond that requires a loyalty that vera doesn’t see she’s earned yet. not so long as being on somewhat personal terms with viktoria remains more useful than upholding a grudge just out of association.

         “ i understand. that’s not the intention here, we wouldn’t ask that of you. ”  in fact, vera appreciates it. but that’s not what this is about, so the vampire shifts to the important part.  “ in return, we want daylight jewelry. ”

[arcibarra]

Daylight jewelry, the talk of the gala before that turned into a little murdery mystery. Arc had a mild interest in it, but not enough to have sought out details, too caught up in greeting old friends and listening for new sorts of magic in this younger generation of witches all gathered together. The intersection between magic and vampirism was interesting in concept, but in practice, Arc rarely sought it out. 

Still, this was a conversation that concerned their family. The mere mention of Sybella made it clear that her safety was a part of this bargain, and Arc wasn’t going to gamble with that. “You’ll have to find details on the process for me. I fear I haven’t had much experience in the creation of artifacts attuned to anyone but my own blood, there’s a lot there I’ll need to learn before I can get you daylight jewelry.”

[sybellaleon]

"Well..." she hesitated. "I'm not... sure? I don't really know what the territory lines are. But a lot of the staff and performers are vampires. I knew that going in, though, they didn't spring that on me."

Obviously, she hadn't fully understood what she was throwing herself into, but she could figure it out.

"Yes, abuela, I keep the charm on me all the time." As much as she wanted to duck out of the overly-protective questioning, Sybella knew that Arc really was just looking out for her. "I'm including it in my drinks too. I'm not endangered, I'm doing fine. I've been getting along well with the staff, and I think we're moving forward in a direction that everyone's happy with." Minus a handful of unhappy participants, but so far the tentative peace had been kept.

The tidbit about her dad did bring the smile back to her face. "I promise you won't have to go that far. But no bites taken out of me so far, so I think it's okay to say I'm handling things so far."

[arcibarra]

“Good, good. If they get too troublesome, let me know. I have some pull with the clans in this town, something could be figured out.” Arc said, giving Sybella one more once-over to reassure themself that she truly was fine. It was terrifying, at times, the way she was sometimes reminded just how much her grandchildren were like little parts of Arc’s own heart, walking around with minds of their own. 

“How has everything else been? Does the town suit you? The magic here is different, it might be affecting your visions.” It came with the territory, being so close to such a major leyline with Arc’s blood in Sybella’s veins. "Divination magic is always so suggestible in placed like this."

[briargreensmith]

Briar follows, arms folded, eyes passing over the mute soil and grit of the cavern floor before the other woman stops just shy of where sand and soot turn to stone, her shovel dipping into the earth there; "You say that, and then you go digging! Makes a sower nervous."

There is a moment where she considers lending aid, but she decides instead against it; if the woman needs a second, Briar trusts she'd ask for it; she'd been out here alone, after all.

"And these... places of power which you're knitting together in a sly little web - they run the width of this city?" A curious notion, but a valuable one.

[arcibarra]

“The planet.” Arc corrected. There was only one of their bones in this city, only one that anchored this whole quarter of the continent, up into the Canadian wilderness where there was another knuckle buried that Arc would have to unearth and re-enchant next. 

Not for a few months, at least. Port Leiry had so much going on, it would be a shame to leave it so soon. 

Arc’s own magic, buried in the earth, crackled to life, the sound unmistakable to them as they finally unearthed their knuckle. They knelt, false fingers brushing against the real thing as they cleared away the dirt, lifting it up to inspect the bone, preserved by magic and left to sit undisturbed for the past century. “Hello again, old friend.”

[briargreensmith]

"Well, bully for you, and a shame on my blood for assuming."

It's a good natured retort, at least in tone, and at the offer, her shoulder rolls. She's little reason to care, what one witch or another gets up to, but given a tiny seed of death lies planted at the back of this cavern, it is suddenly - silently - an issue of territory. Best to watch and make sure it goes undisturbed. "I do love to watch witches work."

That much is true.

She gestures to the back of the cave. "Lead on then, work thee thine,"

[arcibarra]

Allowing a witness was harmless. Explaining the intricacies, the specifics of the sacrifice made, was another. 

One arm. 32 bones, scattered across the world. One of those bones (the proximal phalanx of their middle finger, to be exact) lay right beneath their feet, the hum of it unmistakable even in the echoing noises of the cavern. A slight turning of their head, and the same sort of song they’d heard in this witch’s magic was faint, but present, reflected off the cavern walls.

So, that’s what this was. An issue of territory.

“Whatever magic you’ve planted here will remain undisturbed by my work.” They said, sinking to their knees and beginning to feel along the ground with their true hand, trying to find the exact spot to dig. “I can promise that.” 

Their fingers brushed over a stone, and the music that rang through their skull was unmistakably their own. There it was. They straightened, driving their shovel into the dirt and beginning to dig.

[killvrinstinct]

        vera keeps track of their path, but, beyond that, they’re content to follow arc through the building with the achievement of a foot in the door firmly tucked into their pocket. there’s always a chance this is a trap- that vera’s about to lock herself in a room with a nearly five-hundred-year-old witch with past business with the only clan in direct conflict with kanemaru. the thought once again flickers through their awareness, but it needn’t stay for long. vera enters their office, but waits to sit just yet. 

        a polite smile brushes across her mouth.  “ i’m sure you know about the titan theater. ”  there, the overlapping interest. kanemaru: the business, the location, the power and arc: the owner.  “ we all have a shared care and concern for it. ”  vera nods, considerate. “ and of course, for you, its owner, especially. ”

        then, vera sits, hands folded in their lap.  “ would you be willing to work together to ensure her, and the theater’s, safety? ”

[arcibarra]

There it was. This was about Sybella, how her grandaughter’s safety could be a quick way to ensure Arc’s abilities are put to use for someone who didn’t have the time or resources to build the kind of relationship that usually attracted their attention to the matters of vampiric clans. 

“I won’t take part in any conflict you have with other vampiric clans, I’ll say that now. I have no interest in wars I have no part in. Either side.” They’d heard about some rising tension between Kanemaru and the Lomidzes, some disputes of territory or ideals or the like. Either way, they had no interest in taking part. “But I’m open to hearing what you have to say. What sort of work would you ask of me?” 

[sybellaleon]

“Well, I’m glad the station’s doing well!” A few months isn’t much time, but she’ll take it. Abuela was always on the move, that’s just how things worked. “It’d be nice, if you’ve got the time — the archives could use a… modern touch.” She grimaced. “Normally I’d have so many recommendations for people to handle the work and would love the job, but they’re not really cut out for this kind of environment.”

They’re quickly settled in at a table, and Sybella idly browsed the menu as they conversed. “Thank you! I’d love to come by the station once things calm down at the theatre. We’re slowly getting there!” She flipped a laminated page. “And, frankly… I could use a little break from overdramatic vampires. Most of them have knocked it off with the posturing, but still… it gets old.” She has to fight the urge to shudder at the memory of that audition night - no matter what, she wasn't going to unsee that any time soon.

[arcibarra]

“Overdramatic vampires?” Arc arched an eyebrow. “The Titan isn’t too far into vampiric territory, is it?” 

It had been a long time since they’d encountered a city like this, so full of night life and wolves that there were territory lines drawn, contracts and communication between organized communities. It was, in some ways, a microcosm of the more organised supernatural world Arc hoped to live in some day, but it had its own drawbacks. Unknowing witches buying property on vampiric land, for example. “Are you endangered by it? Are you keeping your verbena charms close? Your father always forgot his, we had to infuse it into buttons and sew them on his clothes.”

[killvrinstinct]

who: @arcibarra . ♡ where: KPLU .

        excitement makes people desperate, and sloppy, and lightheaded. stupid. excitement makes people stupid. and vera has never been people- but they don’t deal in it. nor do they ever really feel it, at least not in ways that she couldn’t use better words for, or shape into something useful. but jewelry to eliminate one of vampirism's greatest weaknesses ghosts along the concept of something as useless as excitement. more than some slowly gathering hunger, more than curiosity, more than proving someone wrong- vera wants this. and the witch they’re approaching has the answer in their hand- arc ibarra has something they want. vera reminds themself that they only get it if they share the same possession, and the vampire wouldn’t have proceeded without being sure that was true. the witch could always say no, but vera could also be prone to the kind of violent outburst even a witch can’t predict. either way, it’s in both their best interests that this goes well.

        “ arc ibarra. ”  vera greets at the door, a quiet sort of smile, the glimmer of interest dancing off of the dark of their eyes, instead. she holds out a hand, and introduces themself  “ v. i’m here on behalf of clan kanemaru. i believe that we have some interests that overlap, and i have a pitch for you. ”

[arcibarra]

It wasn’t uncommon to be approached by non-witches with a proposition for Arc’s magic to be useful to them. Their history with the Lomidzes had made them a known figure in the circles that vampires who cared about politics and the way their clans coexist with witches seemed to run in. 

They shook V’s hand, stepping aside to allow entry. The station was just public enough to be exempt from the invitation rule, even if it wasn’t a traditional business.

Kanemaru was one that they’d had little contact with in the past. Fresher clans with leans towards anarchism seemed to dissolve from infighting within a few centuries, never settling into the stability that could benefit from a connection to Arc’s network and magic. This was one that had lasted much longer than the others.

“Overlapping interests?” They’d heard the clan’s name, recently, in passing. Sybella had said the previous owners of her theatre had been Kanemaru, that she was positioned right in their territory. Leading V into their office, they dropped down behind their desk. “I’m listening.” 

[briargreensmith]

"I just think making your own bowl is nicer than buying one in a shop," she shrugs. It's only just as deep as that, truly, but she nods along all the same. "Ley lines! Blood magic! Wondrous geometries!"

"Fair enough if magic's in the blood, truly, but ought you aim higher? Or is service simply your design? Were I so nobly minded I might find a way to lock these little things down and charge for their use, but that's me, and I'm a spiteful little demon. Why do such brutal ritual for aught-all in return?"

[arcibarra]

“I never said I didn’t get something out of it.” Arc said, with a wry smile. “It would be a selflessly bleak life, forever maintaining a support structure I could never use myself. I can live with selflessness when it’s useful, but I refuse to be bleak.” 

With Briar’s hand to help focus their attention through the vertigo and the echoes, the duo drew closer to the ritual site, the entrance of a small cave off the cove. “It’s not a ritual that can be done by more than a single person, but you can witness it if you like.”

It wouldn't compromise the ritual to have another present to see it, only to have someone who understood just how to interfere with it to come along and ruin it. Even then, it was only one node in the wider web of Arc's network. There was no real risk in inviting the witch to see.

[sybellaleon]

who: @arcibarra where: lucky cat when: mid september

Sybella stared into the glass wall of the tank, eyes following the flowing movement of the fish residing inside. She inhaled deeply, held it for a few moments, then released it slowly as she watched the water ripple around him. It was an easier task at hand, though still not quite an easy one — she needed to call a tableau back to her sight. She let the meditative peace of the contented blue fish surround her, bring her into focus.

A figure — her abuela — stands before a bathroom sink. They have a plastic glove on the hand pinching a lock of hair (gray hair) between its fingers, frozen mid-way through combing black dye through it. From the other clumps of dyed hair visible on their head, it’s clear they’re not just covering a few stray strands of gray.

She held the tableau as long as she could, before letting it wash away in the gentle current of the tank’s filter. Maybe it shouldn’t come as such a shock, but it was still difficult to reckon with the fact that her eternally youthful abuela was covering this up. Was this just a necessary evil to compliment the magic otherwise keeping them immortal, or… was something wrong?

A timer beeped on her phone, forcing her out of that line of thought. She grabbed her purse and stood, gently settling a hand on the side of the tank. “I’ll be back to take you home, okay?” She told Charles, softly. “Behave yourself.”

The betta fish fluttered in place by the fingertips placed against the glass, looking at her. Sybella smiled, blew him a kiss, and left the office, careful to leave a light on by the tank.

————

She swung into the restaurant, just on the cusp of being late. “Oh! It’s so good to see you!” Sybella exclaimed, pulling Arc into a hug when she spotted them standing by the queue. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t meet sooner, it’s just been murder getting everything up and going right at the theatre — not that whoever handled things before wasn’t doing their job, but — well, the record keeping left something to be desired, and it has just been nonstop since I touched down here!”

It was the tiniest bit bizarre to stare right into the face of someone that looked young enough to be her sister and still instinctively think of her as abuela. “How’s the radio station? Are you going to be staying in town long for that?”

[arcibarra]

“I’ll be here for a few more months before I have to move on. The radio station is fine, but this node on the network needs extensive work.” They waved a hand, as if dismissing the topic of their network. That wasn’t something to be bothering with right now, not something they’d bring Sybella into without much more deliberation than they’d given it. “Would you like some help with the records at the theatre? I’ve been meaning to stop by and see it.” 

It was a part of getting a family and remaining attached, the way they automatically had to reel back the urge to smooth out their granddaughters hair and start asking after her health. This was a restaurant, they should at least get their food before they started fussing over Sybella. “You’re looking well. When are you going to come see me at the station?”