Absit Omen RPG

Anton trailed along with the trio of true wizarding folk, grinning with pride as Micha shared in magical-world gossip.  It took a concerted effort to ignore the disjointed pang of jealousy and the feeling of being the odd man out.  The feeling of being included but not quite belonging. 

For not the first time he found himself wondering whether this was what it felt like to be an undocumented immigrant. 

But, he was happy for Micha and that emotion prevailed.  Anton couldn't wait to hear all the stories of friends Micha had made - even, perhaps, the socially shy Jack might be an option.  Maybe.

"If it means they let you go? ... I'm sure someone will come to deliver your letter any day now if they haven't already."

Anton dutifully signed Tessa's response and offered his younger brother a sympathetic grimace as he watched Micha's shoulders deflate every-so-slightly.  A quick signed exchange passed between brothers, primarily focused on whether Anton should explain and what, if anything, Micha preferred to keep private. 

Anton offered a signed translation for Micha as he answered, so his younger brother knew exactly what was being said. 

"The question is not on the school's side - I missed it but two very wizardy looking dudes totally showed up at the front door.  I was very sad to have missed it.  But, this is not about me, so..."  Anton quirked at grin at Micha.  "Don't know if you have any experience with Mums Of Special Kids.  They can be extra helicopter-y."  Anton hesitated and glanced towards Micha.

I don't think there are magical helicopters.  Do you think they have an equivalent phrase?  Dragon mums?  Anton signed to Micha, without translating for the verbally-dependent crowd. 

That's got to be something different.  That sounds more like dance recital mums.  Maybe ... Northern lights mum? Micha replied. 

Unstickable gum mum!

Tick mum!

Ah - we're helpless!  They need a travel phrase dictionary or something!  Micha laughed and Anton turned back to Tessa and Jack. 

"Very protective," he clarified.  "The parental units are having a hard time letting go." 

As random sprays of water were sent from naked swimmer to naked swimmer, Anton found himself completely enthralled in peaceful, inter-magical-ability fun.  Really, when both magical folks and muggles alike were willing to splash around in their birthday suits, it was clear they had more in common than most people assumed. 

At least on the macro-level.  On the micro-level, Anton couldn't help but notice he was he only one that didn't seem to be shivering.  Ah well.  There wasn't anyone here he was really trying to impress. 

Okay.  Maybe there was.  But, she was clearly already called for by the other team so there wasn't anything to lose. 

A few more good splashes and a blind grab at someone's leg to pull them under the water (Anton was being polite and keeping his eyes closed so he didn't know who had been the 'victim' until he'd heard the startled scream) and then someone was shouting out about cooked food.  After a few parting water shots, Anton swam back towards the shore and made a beeline for his clothes.  Only to find they were ... tampered with?

Trousers persisted on falling off.  Shirt barely fit over one arm and shoulder (and Anton was far from buff).  Anton glanced towards his other water-faring party goers to see if they were having similar issues.  And, if so, steal their solutions just as unabashedly as Anton had cheated off of Sasha's papers back in school.   

"Hey now!  No fair picking on the magically-inept," he called, good-naturedly.  Still 'negotiating' with his clothes, he started back towards the tent.  Finally, after admitting defeat and opting for good old mundane problem solving (which was how muggles got the massive world wide web, thank you very much), Anton stopped to shed the trousers and turn them upside down.  Knotting the legs together and slipping his head through allowed the pants to be warn as a makeshift apron.  It left the backside a little breezy but, you steal a man's clothes and you see a man's butt. 

Woah.  This was bloody awesome - and by the proper definition of awesome.  Full of and inspiring awe. 

Nicholas was doing proper wizardy stuff.  Rather than tossing him out, which Fauna and Nicholas' original reactions seemed to suggest, The Adult was both conjuring images of truck-driving witches with nets trying to catch owls and confirming Anton had had a good idea.  Not enthusiastically, mind you, but it was indeed there and he'd take what he could get. 

Fauna, bless her, was stressing about things that were well beyond anyone's capabilities.  Wizard or not, no mere mortal stood a chance against the age of social media and Facebooks' algorithms.  He cast her an empathetic pained grin.  When the dust had settled, perhaps tea and pastries would be warranted.

This was real, honest wizarding world stuff - both what Rudi saw on a daily basis and what his brother would soon be seeing. 

It was exciting, daunting and also unsettling all at the same time.  Made all the more so by this lingering mystery of 'Sasha was gone but alright.'   Anton stood up from the desk to face the trio.  The Adult was taking control and going towards the fireplace to burn some secret message she'd just written.  Right.  Destroy the evidence, if they don't want to be watched.  No information trail. 

Anton watched, wide-eyed, as the Adult threw something on the fire and the flames flared a sickly green - more mesmerized than surprised.  Super flames, he presumed, to destroy the magical traces on the note. 

"Could the owls be other wizards in disguise?" he asked, looking up from green flames to The Adult.  "You think one of them did this?"

"No problem," Anton offered, unconvincingly, arching an eyebrow at Fauna.

If hearing Sasha was 'unhurt' despite his flat being described as a crime scene was supposed to be reassuring, it failed.  Confirmation that the combined flurry of law enforcement activity and Ministry of Magic infiltration was centered around his best mate's apartment only proved to intensify his worry. 

But, he'd have to take Fauna's insistence that Sasha wasn't in harm's way - and the relative calm with which she delivered that news - at face value.  He was about to ask where Sasha and Moira were when Fauna's interest shifted to social media. 

Anton cast a surprised glance towards The Adult when she beat him to providing Fauna with an explanation. 

"Well,  yeah," he confirmed The Adult's explanation, nodding.  "You two have gone totally viral," Anton offered, quickly tugging his phone from his pocket.  But, when The Adult also expressed an interest in the content, he decided against that format and slid the phone back in his pocket. 

"Izzy, from down on 302, makes herself out to be the building's gossip.  The one who always seems to know when a neighbor's 'non-boyfriend' pays a late night call, if you catch my drift.  It seems like she posted the first images.  From there..."

As Anton elaborated, he crossed the living room to the computer desk and logged onto Sasha's desktop.  In quick succession, he pulled up his Facebook account[1] and started scrolling through all the posts popping on friends' feeds, the local news feeds and various school discussion groups." 

"I'm not actually with the school newspaper - but I can join, if that would be helpful."  He glanced up The Adult.

1.	A sample of the gossip

The door swung open from the inside and, not surprisingly, Fauna was standing on the other side.  Moira, however, didn't appear to be with his future cousin-in-law.  Step-cousin.  Whatever.  As Fauna pulled him through the doorway, Anton was also able to see that Sasha was also not home.  More surprisingly, Nicholas was there, along with a woman who very much looked like The Adult in the room.

Anton blinked in surprise but turned back to Fauna.   

"Stay away from the flowers.  There could be something wrong with them."

"Yeah, so I've heard," he offered, flipping his notebook open with his free hand.  "One of the first officers on the scene apparently got taken away by an ambulance when he got too close.  Someone mentioned botulism, but I couldn't tell if it was Officer Stanton or a bystander - and 'that's not information that can be confirmed or denied for a school newspaper,'."  Anton threw his voice, slightly, mimicking the voice of the closed-lip officer downstairs. 

But, almost as quickly, both Fauna and Nicholas' concern shifted to Anton's presence.  Both were deferring heavily to The Adult and Anton couldn't help but mimic their glances in the woman's direction. 

"You're blowing up all over Facebook and Twitter," Anton, explained, though he wondered if they weren't asking as much as subtly suggesting he should leave.  "Well, you and Moira," he clarified, looking to Fauna and nodding towards her phone.  He would have pulled out his to show her if his hands weren't full.  "I was worried, so I interviewed a few officers downstairs until they got bored and ignored me, then sneaked in the back door."

With what little information Anton had gathered about the magical world, and the context clues he'd derived from the ongoing social media drama, Sasha's university flat had become the scene of full on muggle-mage interactions.  Equal parts curiosity, genuine desire to help and worry for his friend percolated in his mind, working together to motivate him to meddle in something that he had a sinking suspicion he shouldn't be meddling in. 

Besides, he also wanted to believe he could actually be of help.  Fauna and Moira were, presumably, still in the building and Official Wizard people were starting to join the scene.  Anton knew the building, knew the apartment and knew many of the folks that lived there.  He was trying to manage the Facebook drama - and had been keeping tabs on the university gossip pages.  If he could get in, he could do more. 

Anton eased his way through the gathering assortment of street-side Lookie-Loos and just to the street side of the police barricade.  Having tugged one of his notebooks out of his bag, he flagged over the closest officer and leaned over the rail. 

"Hi.  Reporter for Varsity, the university newspaper.  The media grapevine is already buzzing with speculation and conspiracy theories.  Panic's starting to build that someones selling meth cut with something really nasty.  Willing to give a name and a comment for the paper?"  Anton gradually made the circuit around the perimeter,  similarly greeting the nearby officers and taking names and info as it was dealt out.  Once he'd reached a certain degree of familiarity with the officers on the periphery, he slipped around the corner to side of the building and, with a set of spare keys and cut in through the underground garage.  After a quick dumpster dive, Anton climbed that back staircase with a cup carrier tray and three empty coffee cups. 

His whole plan hinged on none of the officers he passed pushing the matter and demanding one of the cups.  "Boss demanded a fill up.  Late hour cases, am I right?" Anton offered the officers he passed as he moved towards the closed door to his mate's flat and knocked on the door.  With his free hand, he slipped out his phone and sent Fauna a quick text.

Brought you and Moira coffee.  Rumor on FB is you both are checking things out.
Uh...don't be disappointed about the coffee.

"Oh.  Now.  We're doing this now?"

Yes, apparently.  Tessa and her girlfriend were eager to race into not-so-warm water without a stitch of thread on.  Tessa's girlfriend had clearly already gotten a few good drinks in.  Anton had a strong suspicion that these two events were closely related.  Someone was wolf-whistling as the birthday girl started shedding her swimsuit and Anton's gaze shifted from the group to the cold water. 

Unlike the other two adventurous swimmers, Anton hadn't, yet, consumed any alcohol and that water looked very cold.  But, he could anticipate the disappointment in his mum's voice if she ever found out everyone who'd entered the water had been drunk. 

Alas.  Someone had to be the designated swimmer. 

Anton looked back towards the barbecue to ensure Sir Otto wasn't getting any trouble.  Which, of course, the noblest of spaniels seemed perfectly content to park himself at the foot of the cook.  Currently, a friendly scratch on the head and a brushing of a tail over the ground were being exchanged.  Anton would be sure to thank the cook later for humoring the pup.  But, for the moment...   

"Alright.  Let's do this thing!" Anton announced, for his own benefit as much as anyone else's.  Here went nothing.  Anton made a break for the cold surf, lest he give himself time to succumb to second thoughts, shedding his shirt first and then his shorts just before hitting the cold, salty water. 

So, the pigeon had a name.  Should they live to see another day, rather than be mistaken for very large crumbs of stale bread, Anton would have to ask the wizard how a pigeon comes upon a name as epic-worthy as ‘Murdoch’.  But, alas, they had to survive the encounter first. 

At least one could find some comfort in the man’s surety in the pigeon’s capacity to follow commands.  Even if the commands went unheeded by the bird. 

Anton glanced from the disobedient pigeon to Murdoch only to find the older wizard staring at him.  Was he looking to Anton for help?  Advice?  “Maybe its range of hearing changed,” Anton offered with a slow shrug.  It seemed as reasonable a theory as any and it was comforting to think the lack of obedience was due to a communication issue rather than pliability.  “You know.  Ear drum got a lot bigger so maybe it can only hear lower frequency?  Like … speaking humpback.”

Dory could talk to the pigeon.

Apparently, that wasn’t the direction the wizard intended to go.  Assuming the wizard knew best (after all, this wasn’t exactly something they’d studied at Sixth Form), Anton accepted the recommendation without a second thought. 

“Baguette.  Right.  Distraction-loaf.”  Anton turned and darted towards the door.  With Siri as his co-pilot, Anton raced towards the closest bakery and ordered a discounted day-old baguette with an urgency that clearly baffled the poor clerk.  Then, back to the butcher with carb-rich ammo. 

Alright.  Time to assume the role of Anton The Pigeon Hunter.  “Tchk tchk tchk,” Anton clucked, using universal old-man-on-a-bench-feeding-birds dialect.  Slowly, he approached the bird, tearing off a chunk of bread and tossing it towards the ground next to the rubbage bins.  ”Oi, aren’t you the most beautiful creature in the world,” Anton feigned excitement in a (bad) Australian accent.  If Steve Irwin could do this with a man-eating crocodile, surely Anton Schäfer could do this with a pigeon.

The pigeon paused in its flailing and turned towards the Muggle.  It’s gaze darted towards the chunk of bread and it bobbed it’s head with a loud, low cooo.

“But I'm not --"

“A minor distinction my mum doesn’t need to fully understand.”  Anton countered with the briefest of winks. 

He listened, curiously, as she explained the usual approach, trying his best to meld the ‘how it should be’ with what was playing out in his house.  It was all a rather confusing system - made even more confusing by the fact that it involved an entirely new world that he had no previous understanding of.  He imagined it felt a lot like getting dropped in the middle of the jungle among one of those uncontacted tribes and then being explained the finer details of some traditional ritual. 

All while hoping the locals didn’t grow tired of you and toss you out to flounder in the jungle.  Or kill you. 

With a shrug, he put that thought behind him.  “Next Saturday works fantastic!”  Anton confirmed.  “I mean, any weekend works for me.  But, I understand if vampires get extra moody on full moons.”  Anton offered, sagely, both oblivious to the real full moon threat and that their current meeting was anywhere near a full moon.  What normal person followed the phases of the moon?  “I’ll get Micha hyped up about it. 

But, there was one piece of this that Anton wasn’t sure he fully understood.  “Doesn’t muggleborn mean both parents are entirely non-magical?”  Anton asked, slowly, unsure of the question, himself.  “If that’s the case, I don’t think Micha is muggleborn.  Will that make a difference?  Will they still send someone?”

Again, Anton didn't try to predict what response the maze of Tessa's emotional responses might bring.  Wrong guesses were too perilous and there was too much risk that a right guess might come with unintended gloating.  So, persisted with patience. 

A tactic which appeared to pay off in excess. 

Anton's eyes widened when Tessa looked at him, his usual cheery grin splitting his face.  The standard gut response was to blabber some sort of Really?  Are you sure?, just to make sure he hadn't suffered from some momentary seizure or hallucination.  Doing so risked giving her time to change her mind or back out.  She clearly held no qualms about putting him in his place, if he had heard wrong.  So ...

"Yeah, mate.  That would be fantastic!  I know he'd love it.  My mum might even be okay with the idea, given you're an important government official and all."  Anton absolutely planned on framing it as a government-official led tour of the local shopping center.  That would go over much better than the mates I met while drinking are going to show Micha around vampire alley. 

"Yeah - just tell me where and when and we'll be there.  You can-"  Actually, Anton didn't quite know the best way to end that sentence.  He had just enough sense to recognize that outsider misunderstanding had had something to do with her ire.  "So, I've gathered this place isn't here to help the likes of me.  Not officially, at least.  So, is there like a welcoming center?  Magical alien resource office?  Or, do we just sit back and wait for the powers that be to tell us the rules?"

Anton felt he had neither the time nor the need to explain how a rapidly-enlarging pigeon stabbing repeatedly at a burlap sack might resemble a homicidal barber.  The analogical plot similarities were of secondary importance to the ... inflating bird. 

All he had time for was a quick nod behind the fellow before the huge feathered grain-thief caught the man's attention.  And to stare, dumb-founded at the pigeon that defied logic.  Luckily, the man appeared to know what to do.  Anton took a step to the side, giving the other ample access to do ... whatever one did with a large bird. 

If it even qualified as a bird, anymore.  "I see the dinosaur," he murmured.  "Bloody hell." 

Trusting the other's confidence as an indication of safety, Anton followed a few steps behind.  At least, for now, the pigeon hadn't caught on to the idea that it could easily partake of foods much larger than grain.  "Don't get eaten," he offered as an entirely useless suggestion as the other man drew his wand. 

All he could do was stand next to the man and spread his arms, hoping to prevent the pigeon from making a break for the door if it got spooked.   

True to form, to Anton's dismay, the pigeon reacted as all birds did to people running towards it, flailing and shouting.  It leapt back, bumping into the wall of the alley and stretched enormous wings in an attempt to take flight.  There were few places in London that could have accommodated the pigeon's wing span.  The unfolding wings were hindered by the surroundings and the sudden feeling of entrapment sent the bird into a full panic as it sought desperately to find an escape. 

"I can't ... uh ... I'm not magically gifted.  But, what can I do to help," he asked, looking between the man and the other woman in the shop. 

Sir Otto had garnered the approval of several other party goers but, obviously not that of the guest of honor.  Great, not only did it seem like Tessa was already sweet on someone (and a type of someone that boded very badly for Anton) but she was also sweet on someone who didn't like dogs. 

Of course, that would be his luck. 

At least Otto had found a new BFF.  After relishing in Tessa's affection, the spaniel clumbered to his feet and over to the grill.  There, he flopped down at Ambrose's feet and ever so lazily reaching his chin out to rest on the top of Ambrose's shoe.  Two dark brown, doggy eyes rolled up to carefully follow the cook's every move.   

"Did Micah tag along?"

Anton shook his head.  "I wasn't sure how 'adult' this party would be," he admitted.  Convincing their mum of letting Micha come to a young-adult magical party wasn't quite the baby steps Anton thought she needed.  Severing those apron strings was going to take a bit more imagined risk-gradation.  "Emergency room surgeons are quite adept at imaging what can go wrong at parties."

"Cute...dog...  Oh! Is he the one you totally just had drinks from?"

"I hope you don't mind him tagging along," he offered Gris, apologetically.  Fauna seemed to joining him in making sure the birthday girl wouldn't be too put out by the inclusion of canine royalty.  "If you're afraid of dogs, I promise he's not at all ... wait, drinks?"  Anton looked between the two women in confusion, trying to figure out if this was a case of mistaken identity or of an outing that had involved way too much drink.

Luckily, they were distracted by the arrival of Nicholas and the elaboration of skinny dipping plans.  After casting Tessa a yep, see nod, he joined in with the new topic. 

"Maybe the sharks here are all part of the 'Fish are Friends, Not Food' support group.  Even if they mistake wigglers for fishies, they'll leave them alone.  But, food and optionally-nude swimming after sounds like an excellent plan."