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[Alfred Gorbach]

It was no secret to anyone with even mild experience of Alfred that most days weren’t good ones, but this one was especially bad. He’d overheard a man in town talking about how proud he was of his son for some school achievement, tossing in a few casual words about how much he loved him. And Alfred had to wonder, did that dad mean it or were those just empty words people say when the conditions are right?

He was once loved too. Or so he thought. He was once praised. His dad had said those things to him. But then also:
“All those years I thought I was raising a champion, but turns out I was just training a circus act,” his father had said.
“You were supposed to be my legacy. I built you to stand straight, shoot clean, and act like a man, and now you’re gonna do what? Wave a stick and mumble words like some freak show?” his father had shouted.
“All those arrows you landed… I have to wonder. Was it really you, or that tainted blood guiding them?”

That was the final straw. He’d stood there, trying to take it like a man, just like his daddy taught him, but those were the final words that broke something.
The ones that let the tears fall.

And they were about to do the same now, but he sure wasn’t going to let that happen. He looked up at the sky, sometimes that helped keep the waterworks at bay. His nose was red and prickling again, a sensation so common these past days he wondered if there was a way to numb it.
Didn't seem to help. He had to do something. And fast. Preferably while walking in the opposite direction from that park with its picture perfect families, picnic spots straight from a magazine, and all that love that only seemed to exist under the right terms. Terms he most certainly hadn’t met.
He picked up a stick and started beating the grass as he walked, like it had personally offended him.
“I’m not a freak,” Alfred mumbled.
“I’m not a freak!” Slash.
“I,” slash. “am not,” slash. “a freak!” Slash.​

 

[Laura Zavaglia]

The first trick Laura had picked up with her new magic, if that was even really hers, was a vanishing act.

Deep down, she knew it wasn't her aunt's fault she was in this situation as much as her mother suggested otherwise. She liked her aunt, and she had no recollection of Aine ever doing any sort of magic. Not that she actually knew what magic looked like, but she felt like she'd know if something had been done to change her and make her into a witch herself. But her mother's anger and grief at the prospect of her daughter - that was to say, Laura herself - being different and taken away to go to what felt like a convent far from home left an impression on a young girl. Spending some time with her aunt amongst magic was something of a begrudging concession by her mum, and while Laura wanted to be nice to her aunt at the first opportunity she found herself running.

She had no destination in mind, she just kept running until a voice stopped her in her tracks. Tilting her head curiously she looked at the boy and at the grass, and back up with a raised eyebrow while she caught her breath. "Was the grass being rude to you?" she asked, unable to stop herself. At the very least, it was something to think about that wasn't everyone fighting about her at home. "Are you okay? Um, you're probably not a freak?" she added, mildly unhelpfully. Her phone vibrated in her pocket with a message and Laura with not an insignificant feeling of guilt ignored it.

 

[Alfred Gorbach]

Death was seriously underrated. Would it come now, Alfred would take its hand without a flinch. Disappear into nothingness. Far from the place where someone had just witnessed his meltdown in public.
He froze and didn’t know what to say. Could he just… bolt? The embarrassment was physical. Chest tight, skin tingling. He didn’t even want to look her way.
But he had to, didn’t he?
She sounded like she was trying to be nice, which somehow made everything ten times worse. The kind of voice people use when they stop on the street and ask if you’re lost. Not because they care, but because you look so wrong their moral compass forces them to speak.
And yeah. He probably did look like that.
Repeating things like some deranged… well, freak. Honestly, if she hadn’t looked concerned, that would’ve been more alarming.
He finally looked her way, praying his face had remembered its original color.
“Depends who you ask,” he muttered. His voice cracked at the end, so he coughed to kill the sound.
Then, hitting the grass for emphasis,
“And, uh… it started it. I was just… defending myself,”
Defending yourself, really, dude?
Oh great, round two. Humiliation and shame burned right through him, hot and suffocating.

 

[Laura Zavaglia]

Laura nodded slowly, making herself busy as she reluctantly pulled out her phone. There was a message from her aunt, telling her not to go off too far or her mum would probably end her. Laura grimaced. She had no doubt her mum would if anything happened on Auntie Aine's watch. She pocketed the phone again without responding, not really wanting to contribute to that. It felt uncomfortable.

Almost as uncomfortable as the boy looked, she thought, blinking a few times at the response. "Oh, great, do I have to watch out for magic grass, now, too-" she blurted, quickly shutting her mouth as she realised. She wasn't supposed to talk about it, because now everything had to be a big shameful secret. Like how she'd have to pretend she was going to Sydney for school to all her friends. Like how her aunt had to speak in half-truths until that letter showed up. She coughed, awkwardly. "I've got matches if you want to set things on fire instead?" She did tend to carry odds and ends. A Swiss army knife was at the top of her wishlist.

 

[Alfred Gorbach]

Excuse me?
She just acted like everything he said was perfectly normal. And then proceeded to check her phone.
What?!

“Are you okay?” he asked, glancing at her phone and then up at her.
And the fire comment, okay, that nearly made him laugh, but the first part?
“Wait, stop, what did you mean about the magic grass?” He looked dead serious.
Was she from the same show he was?
No way.
Except… wasn’t this the place where the school was supposed to be? Well not exactly here, but...
And what were the odds of bumping into someone like that?
Nah, no way.
Well… was there a way?
Could there actually be someone else like him?
“On… on the off chance,” he added, pulse picking up, “do you ever catch yourself wondering if you’re a freak too?”​

 

[Laura Zavaglia]

Laura realised she was probably being rude. She'd thought she was just being kind of casual, not looking too invested so as not to make him feel like he was some kind of weird thing to observe. At least, that's how she hoped it came across. Most of her guy friends didn't go in for aggressive sympathy or nosiness. But she supposed distraction worked too. Could it be that the reason he was upset was in part that he was, perhaps, in the same situation she was? Awfully convenient, but she supposed her options here were to subtly pull the 'I know that you know that I know' thing with dancing around magic without directly saying it...and if she was wrong, then if the magic police were going to arrest her they could maybe prove she wasn't magic and put this whole thing behind her. If she was right, then at least someone else got it.

Alternatively, she could start setting things on fire. That would at least change the subject.

"Um," she started, fiddling with the sleeve of her jersey as she pondered how to actually phrase things in a subtle way rather than go for the pyromania. Eleven year olds weren't known for subtlety. "I didn't think so, but a little birdie said I might be..." she stated, carefully, feeling quite proud of herself for the way she'd put it together. "Well, Jenny and Chantelle always call me one, but that's only because the boys don't want to kiss them when they could play footy with me, not for any, uh...'magic' reasons..." she made quotation marks with her fingers, rolling her eyes and quickly shutting her mouth before she went on and on. She'd undermined the first statement, unfortunately. "Okay, did you get a weird letter too?"

 

[Alfred Gorbach]

Kissing?
He blinked. What.
That wasn’t the part he was supposed to get stuck on, but it lodged in his brain like a splinter.
He cleared his throat, adjusting his grip on the stick like it mattered.
“Right, so just to recap.. you’re quoting birds, mocking your bullies and throwing in kissing while confirming I wasn’t the only one who received stuff from people who think owls are an acceptable postal service?” This wasn’t a question. More like a system reboot.
A short pause.
“Cool.”
“Cool, cool, cool… A normal Tuesday.” This was a lot to process. That meant.. what?
For one, evidently he wasn’t the only one. Sure, they probably didn’t build an entire school just for one Alfred, but.. this was big. Proof he wasn’t about to spiral into a padded room.
Well. At least he won’t be there alone.
He exhaled slowly, though it didn’t help much.
“So what now?” he asked. Then, in the same breath, “Do we, like… shake hands? Swear blood oaths? Start a cult? I didn’t read the brochure.”​

 

[Laura Zavaglia]

Laura scratched the back of her head, shuffling from one foot to the other in a bid to find a stance that felt at all natural. The heart of the matter was, unfortunately, nothing felt natural right now. "Yeah, that's basically it," she said, shrugging as though to say 'what can you do?'. Still, though, the fact that he very much did seem to be in the same boat was a massive relief, and she felt her shoulders relax just a little. She didn't even know they were tensed. "That or we were both poisoned and we're deep in delulu-land. I don't think so though. It probably would've made the news before now." Yes, that seemed logical enough.

"If you asked my mum, she thinks it's already a cult, so joining another one on top of it is probably a bit much?" she offered up, finding herself making more jokes out of nerves. Good thing her mother wasn't here, she thought. She always hated when her aunt did that. "I think the big magic families do blood rituals and stuff. I don't really wanna join 'em. I heard the kids from those families are the real freaks." She made a face, awkwardly shoving her hands in her pockets. Handshakes were the kind of things she only did when she was pretending to be an important businessman with her friends as part of a private joke. "Though I'm gonna try and find a way to get out of this, if you want in. What's your name, anyway? I'm Laura. Or Loz, or LZ, whatever."

 

[Alfred Gorbach]

The sunlight felt way too bright for the kind of conversation they were having. The wind was still blowing, the birds still chirping, and a random dog was barking in the distance, but everything felt muted. All of this was so disorienting.
"I need to sit down." The rush of thoughts was too overwhelming. She knew. She really knew. He could probably ask her a million things. Would she tell him? Would she lie? Could he even tell the difference?

"Actually no, walk with me? I think better when I'm moving," he added, tossing the stupid stick away.
"My fam... hm. So like... hm." He still hadn't moved, and if he had to grade his own words on their ability to say what he meant, a two month old would probably outscore him.

"John," he said at last. "John Doe. Ask my owl, it's totally legit."
This was yet another thing he didn't fully understand. Why something as basic as a name had become the one thing he never wanted to give. Not since he got here.
Or maybe not since his own father started using his name like a curse. And that wasn't even his father's to do whatever he wanted with. He had his mother's last name. Why? That was another thing he never thought about until the whole magic is real revelation. But still. A name was the very first step in any normal human interaction, and his gut reaction was to dodge it. Which was dumb, because if LZ was going to go to the same school he was, she would find out eventually.
But that was an eventually problem.
"But if I'm being serious, you can call me whatever you want," he said. "And on a side note, I know literally nothing about what you just told me. Like, big magic families and real freaks, or what even defines freak."
He was talking like someone held at gunpoint and the only way out was setting a world record for words per minute.
"I'm not even entirely sure what I am, as you could tell by the whole grass scolding episode, and I have zero baseline for what... what..." He waved a hand vaguely. "... to compare what you're saying to, and judge what you tell me. And, and..." The point of this monologue grew wings and flew away. He had completely lost the trail of his original thought.
He exhaled sharply.
"What I was trying to say is that whatever you tell me, I'll probably believe it. So please be... ugh... true?" He glanced at her again, quieter now.
"It's a pretty crap deal, if you ask me, because I'm probably not going to be very honest with you."
A pause.
"But I promise I won't lie."
That felt important to add.
"If you wanna start walking the other direction, now is the time. But if you don't... I'll help. I'll try to help you with whatever it is that you want to get out of."​

 

[Laura Zavaglia]

Despite the aforementioned mutual dislike from certain girls in her class at school, Laura got along with people pretty well for the most part. She liked to think she could call most of the people in her class friends, or at least be friendly to them. But her best friend was a boy named EJ. Well, that was the name she stuck with, and he'd been the one to gravitate towards using LZ. He was American, so the 'zee' worked far better than the 'zed' she would have used. Laura was reminded a little of him seeing the way this boy was freaking out. EJ tended to freak out about things too, every now and then. Most recently it was because they were shutting down the servers for Dogs of War IV, and he hadn't been able to convince his parents to get the new version, nor did Laura own a copy for them to play together. Laura had had to bite her tongue so as not to double down with 'I won't be able to play anyway, I'm being sent to a weird magic school where they don't even have electricity'. Remembering that stung, so she shook her head as she half jogged as she walked as a distraction to herself.

"Yeah, okay," she eventually assented with a shrug. "Mum says boys do nothing but lie anyway, so it's no big deal." Although, her conscience reminded her, she was the one who was going to have to lie to EJ. "And you can't really be lying about saying that you're lying, cause then you're telling the truth either way, and I seriously doubt your name is actually John Doe." She felt quite clever for that one, for a brief sparkle of positivity amongst everything else. Maybe she wasn't a genius, but she liked to think she was a bit clever. "I'm just happy to be able to talk to someone about it at all, even if you're just going to respond with bullcr*p. I can't tell any of my friends. So I have no reason to lie. Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye." She was very solemn, placing a hand over her heart for emphasis. "I want to get out of going at all, since it's probably been a mistake. If they make me go, I'm breaking out until they get the message that they can't hold me. They won't have security cameras or anything, I know." There was perhaps a very small part of Laura that was curious about magic, and to be fair to Aine, she had said there were good parts to it. But all the lead-in seemed definitely not worth it.

 

[Alfred Gorbach]

He gave a short, awkward laugh and shoved both hands into the pockets of his hoodie. It stung that she thought he was a liar, that she thought all boys were. It should be a big deal, but arguing would only make it worse. To him, not being honest and lying weren’t the same thing at all. And as for his name, she probably didn’t share his questionable hobby for a kid barely into double digits, watching gory shows and listening to brutal fantasy audiobooks, so it was only natural she didn’t get the John Doe joke.

“No. No, it isn’t. John Doe is a name for someone whose true name is unknown or withheld, and in my case it’s the latter, obviously, for reasons I don’t want to go into right now.” He fixed his gaze on some spot far in the distance.

“And I promise it’s not because I come from some murderous weirdo family. At least, I don’t think I do.” He grimaced. “Ok, forget it. I can’t exactly guarantee I’m not from some serial killer branch. But as far as I’m aware of my family tree, I’m not tied to any vengeance seeking child eaters.”
He kicked a small stone down the gravel path.

“I’m really not helping my case, am I?” He scratched the back of his neck, wincing. “I’m rambling. Sorry.” He had no idea why talking to her felt so awkward. It wasn’t like this normally. Maybe it was the breakdown earlier, or the fact that he hadn’t pulled himself together yet, but everything felt strange and off balance. Or maybe it was just that she was the first person he knew was like him, and if this was how the track record for witch and wizard communication was going to go, the future didn’t seem too promising.
“Wait. How do you know they don’t have security cameras?” His brain finally sparked with the fact that this was an important piece of information. “And secondly, are you from here or am I talking to another import?”​