[Apologies for having missed Day 4!
Please read the instruction post before commenting]

“By all means, don’t let me keep you!” Augustus said with a laugh. “Do you have a busy day even on Restday?”

Yujin pulled a face. “Not at all,” they said. They were perennially single, and though Augustus didn’t get the impression they preferred it that way, that didn’t mean they spent much time on solving that problem. Or doing much socialization for any other reason, in fact. “Just hoping not to do too much work on Restday either, if I’m being honest.”

“I’d always prefer you be honest,” Augustus said lightly. “No, no, by all means. I’ll take a look through the rest of the room myself, and I’ll follow up more tomorrow. And I’ll do my best to corner Fitzfleming and Pérez to get them to lay off.”

“Ugh, I don’t want them to think I went running to you.”

“I’ll tell them I got it out of you via torture.”

“Hm,” Yujin said. “Have a good rest of your day, professor.”

They headed out and Augustus sighed, scrubbing his hands through his hair and looking around again. Nothing for it but some hard work.

He wished he’d kept some sort of inventory; he suspected that half the books on his shelf could go missing and he wouldn’t realize which ones were gone until he had a need to look for it specifically. Still, there weren’t a lot of egregious gaps, and the few places where he noticed that a shelf seemed to have more wiggle room than usual, he was able to identify a title that should have been there but didn’t seem to be on a quick scan.

It took a few hours, but he made it through his shelves and his desk, and by the end, he was pretty sure the totality of what was missing was: The paper Yujin had mentioned (Shadows of Fear Etc); a book on how the other plane was segmented by kingdom of entity (demons, elementals, uncanny spirits and so on); several folios on various deep dives into different forms of entities; a book that scandalously conflated Structural Spiritualism with Conjuration and proposed our plane was simply another of the outer planes; several papers that were written in retort to it; a book about ghosts and possession from the perspective of material-vs-spiritual analysis; and a hobbyist collection of real life encounters with creatures and entities that seemed to come from no known plane.

The problem with determining a commonality in what was missing was that these were all subjects that related to Augustus’s field of study specifically, and so they all made sense to appear together. But at least no more personal things were taken. He put the list to the side and resolved to sleep on it.

But before that—well, he’d come out here to research, and so he might as well research. And if anything else were to go missing, it’d better not be a library book, or Fernandez would come for his head; best to get that out of the way quickly, as Yujin had suggested. He sat down, tried to clear his mind of his worries, and began to leaf through the book, making notes.

By the time Augustus had finished reading and note-taking on Umbric Resistance in Summoned Spirits, it was quite late. He hadn’t realized how much time had passed until his stomach growled, and he glanced out the window to realize it was already dark. It looked like the library book would have to be returned tomorrow, if he had time to do so—but he packed it to take it home with him, just in case whoever was doing this still had access to his office.

He put his husband’s ambrotype in his bag as well.

Once home, he cooked himself a modest meal (pan-fried salmon over a gingered rice and roasted vegetables); it was late enough now that he didn’t want anything too heavy in case it kept him from sleeping well, though he somewhat ruined the effect by slicing himself some of the leftover pie he’d purchased the day before. 

Sometime eating sweets right before bed gave him dreams; disappointingly, that night wasn’t one of them. He woke annoyed, wishing that he’d had a chance to see his husband even if only in his dreams, and ate a breakfast of rich egg-soaked toast with cream, nuts, and berries to cheer himself up. 

That took slightly longer than he had available, and he ended up three minutes late to his his Firstday morning class, but considering he was keeping them for three hours, he doubted anyone minded. He hadn’t left himself time to prepare for this class, but it was a 100-level introductory class that he’d taught dozens of times; he could teach it in his sleep. Still, wouldn’t do to make a habit of it.

When class was finally over, and the last of the students had walked, slithered, or scurried out of the lecture hall, Augustus began clearing the board with a frown, deep in thought. He needed lunch, of course, but after that … well, he had many options ahead of him for the day, yet only enough time to do two or three of them. There were the options of returning the library book or talking to either Fitzfleming or Pérez, of course, but he could also continue his research, work on his monograph, call his husband, or something else—should he be asking around about Yujin among their peers? Ask any of the other professors if they’d noticed something strange? Discuss the problem with the department head or the dean? Was it something that needed to go to the Ethics board? Or, hell, he thought to himself ruefully, maybe he could just go get drunk.

Not for the first time in his life, Augustus wished for more time than he had available to him. Surely that was a problem he’d be able to solve someday.

[What should Augustus do next? Comment with details.]

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Hello all! Apologies for having to take a break day so early, but Aveline and I are out of town for the night, and the setup in this hotel makes it extremely difficult to write*, so no section of story today. Instead, Day 3’s turn-in time is extended by a day — please get your comments in over here by 5 pm on October 5th! (If I need to go a day or two past Halloween to wrap up, I will.) Thanks for your understanding,!

* It is however haunted, dead quiet, and abandoned-seeming and oh boy is it giving me ideas for something in the future

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“I didn’t expect you to be in today either,” Augustus said with a smile, trying to hide his irritation. He’d given up husband time today to do research, and now he had to deal with— 

—well, with what exactly? Perhaps it wasn’t so strange that Yujin was going through his things. Being his research assistant did give them a certain amount of leeway, though going through his desk itself was a bit of a transgression in terms of personal boundaries.

Augustus attempted to get a quick overview of everything that had been disturbed without letting his smile slip. Nothing except the desk seemed disrupted, at least at a glance, and most of his desk was still in place, including his ambrotype of his husband—an odd image, that, since it barely resembled the man, but charming nonetheless and he was glad to see it untouched. The papers spread out seemed to mostly be personal research, some of which he’d sourced, and most of which were his personal notes about spiritual hosting—the summoning of spirits and anchoring them onto this plane instead of the other by giving them some kind of host, and how that related to the dichotomy of the planes. It looked as though some other personal papers were there as well, bills and notes and so on, though he didn’t want to jump to conclusions. Those could have been pulled out incidentally.

“What brings you here, then?” Augustus asked lightly when the silence had stretched on for perhaps a moment too long.

Yujin had remained frozen the whole time, looking a little flushed and very mortified, but that still wasn’t a sign of any actual misbehavior. Frankly, being interrupted like this looked bad, and thus would be mortifying even if there were a reason for it. Now, they seized on the question, flashing Augustus a relieved—even grateful—smile and stepping around the desk. “The library finally got in that loan of Umbric Resistance in Summoned Spirits, and I know you weren’t the only one with a request for it, so I decided to check it out and bring it in before anyone else could get their hands on it. By the way, you might want to review the relevant parts and get it back as soon as possible, Fernandez was really annoyed by how much demand there’s been for books on this subject lately and how many people are harassing her, so you getting it back quickly will probably help get you in her favor …”

They were rambling a little, brushing down their coat and making sure their sleeves were out of the cuffs. Augustus nodded. “Thank you for getting that for me,” he said gravely. He didn’t ask more. He deliberately didn’t ask, seeing what Yujin would do if he didn’t.

That earned him another flashed smile from them. “Of course, it’s my job. Um. Anyway, when I came in, a paper I’d brought yesterday wasn’t there. I was a little worried, but I thought maybe you’d come in and put it away or something, so I figured I’d check your desk.”

He definitely hadn’t come in yesterday. He’d been gardening most of the day. “That’s odd. What was the paper?”

Yujin winced. “I don’t remember the title. It was that one by Mahogany Mahoney. You know, the one on common fear legends from different extraplanar locations. The one that’s like Shadow-Fear-Shadow-Shadow.” 

“Shadows of Fear from the Shadows Feared by the Unshadowed?”

“That’s the one,” Yujin said, rolling their eyes. Relatable. “Anyway, did you take it?”

“I didn’t,” Augustus said, frowning now. “I didn’t even know you’d brought it. You’re sure you didn’t forget it?”

“I definitely came in with it,” Yujin said. “I wasn’t carrying anything else. I can’t imagine I’d have walked out with it and I remember putting it on your desk so you’d see it. I checked around and there’s a few other things I think might be missing, unless you’ve taken them to your workshop?”

That was alarming. “What else?”

“A few books and folios on extraplanar studies that I usually see around here. But I don’t know everything you have.”

“I’ll have to check,” Augustus said. He came around to do so, sorting through his papers almost absently. “Only you and I have keys to the office.”

Yujin nodded. “That’s what I was thinking. So if someone did come in, they either teleported—bypassing your wards without damaging them—or stole keys from one of us and put them back without us noticing.”

Neither option was great. At least, other than the things Yujin had pointed out, Augustus hadn’t yet noticed anything else missing. “Do you know who might have had access to your keys?”

 “I never left them alone with anyone deliberately. I might have occasionally stepped out of my room to get a package or some such from the front door without taking them with me or locking up, because why wouldn’t I? And occasionally other professors have barged into my study room to ask for specific papers that they’re accusing me of hoarding, so there’s a small chance one of them might have grabbed the keys and returned them without me noticing,” Yujin admitted, more embarrassed than defensive.

Augustus nodded, gathering up the pages that Yujin had spread out and squaring them. “Which professors?”

“Ivory Fitzfleming and Cordero Pérez are the worst offenders. Most at least wait in the hall,” Yujin grumbled.

“Keys aside, you should have said something,” Augustus chided. “They don’t get to abuse my assistant because they want access to the same resources. They can ask like anyone else.”

“Yes, sir.”

“But that’s not your fault,” Augustus added gently. 

Fitzfleming was a Professor of Structural Spiritualism, not Conjuration—Structural Spiritualists focused on the essence and spirit that existed in this plane within objects, plants, animals, and so on, all of which could be awakened and used. Most Structural Spiritualists viewed Conjuration as a field that was largely historic—in other words, no new achievements could come from it, just repetitions of old discoveries. Fitzfleming was no-nonsense about things in general, but was, to his understanding, working on a paper that might have led her to demand access to some of his research materials. 

Meanwhile, Pérez was in Wards and Protections, and was both pompous and beautiful, especially for a man of his age. Warding, as a field, tended to view Conjurations as playing with fire unnecessarily, but on the other hand, the entire field of Warding hardly needed to exist if Conjurers didn’t do their work. And Pérez had already nagged Augustus in person a few times to share information about Augustus’s monograph to ensure he didn’t get “over his head in demonic nonsense.”

Of course, it might not have been either of them. Augustus sighed. “Thanks for getting this for me, Yujin. And for looking into this weird disappearance.”

“Of course, sir. I wish I had more to add, but … well.” They shrugged. “May I be excused?”

[Comment below. Should Augustus:
> Make Research notes from new book & return it to library immediately
> Ask Yujin not to leave — and what would you have them do?
> Try to find Fitzfleming — and how would you approach the situation?
> Try to find Pérez — and how would you approach the situation?
> Give up on all this and call his husband after all
> Do something else
Describe the details in the comments!]

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For a moment, the looming pressure of the monograph almost won entirely because Augustus didn’t want to be working on it. Getting it out of the way might feel like a victory. But, he had to admit, it wasn’t going to be something he could just get off his plate. He was only about 20,000 words into what he had tentatively titled Conjuration Bias: Looking Beyond a Planar Dichotomy, and no matter how much Beekeeper fussed at him, the next 60-80K wasn’t going to be done for a month or two at best. He could sit down and plunk out the next chapter at any time, given that he knew that it was just going to be a lengthy digression into the definition of the planes in dichotomy of ‘interplanar’ and ‘extraplanar’, and academic trends were something he could talk about for ages without even thinking about it. Any Doctor of Conjurations could.

But his personal research was about what lay outside that dichotomy. And while he could likely do this whole monograph without having to get into the weeds of the things he was actually researching … what if he discovered something? What if he genuinely had a breakthrough and figured out what was out there? What if it was not just our plane and the spiritual realm outside it, but instead our plane and its reflection are but two sides of a coin, and a coin only exists in a larger system of barter.

It’d be easier to commit to talking about mere theory if he didn’t know that more existed. But he did, even if he couldn’t remember the specifics, even if he’d spent years scrambling to try to rebuild the parts of his mind that had been absolutely shattered, or stolen, or locked away by his presumed experiences when he was younger. But he knew there was something there in that gap he could feel in his mind, not unlike prodding the space in the gum where a tooth ought to be, and if he found that out—well, the monograph would be an afterthought compared to what he’d found, surely, but it would still benefit.

That had been how Augustus had met his husband originally—he’d searched for someone who was deeply involved in these things, and had found someone equally interested in wondering if the binary planar system was actually two parts of a whole and thus sat within a larger context. Certainly, Em was interested in it for other reasons—much more interested in the implications that the “two” planes, as partners, could be parts of a single thing and treated as such from a magical perspective, but Em was passionate about the pursuit of mysteries and about providing knowledge for others when finding that knowledge seemed impossible. 

For a moment, his resolve to work on his own research today trembled. Even thinking about Em made Augustus want to contact him. He could justify it, he knew; he could pretend that he’d called to talk about research. But if he wanted to actually get any work done today, he shouldn’t call. The ritual to allow them to contact each other took significant time, and he knew that he’d get distracted flirting and lose the rest of the day. And would that be such a bad thing on Restday? Maybe not. But he had already gotten dressed and started to think about work, so perhaps it was best to ride that urge to the end.

Thus decided and only a little sulky at himself for his own decision, Augustus shrugged his jacket on and headed to his office to give him better access to his research library—and to his workroom, if he found he needed it for any practical tests. It wasn’t a long trip; he lived in the magisterial housing just outside the campus, a cramped series of stone townhouses, sweet little things with gardens out back that were mostly used by the professors to spy on their neighbors. Hopefully, there’d be new reading material in his office by the time he got in; his research assistant, Li Yujin, had promised to try to track down some additional books Augustus had been having trouble sourcing. Yujin was quiet and unobtrusive, but generally good at getting him information before he needed to chase them about it. If Augustus had put them to work finding more personal research materials … well, it was close enough to his professional studies that he doubted Yujin had yet noticed.

Augustus hoped he wasn’t coming in for nothing, though, and pondered what he should do if he came in to find no new materials there. He had plenty he could read there without having to bother Yujin, but he could also use the bell system set up through the university to see if they were currently in their room. It would be rude to interrupt Yujin on Restday, but he could at least find out if they hadn’t got around to it yet, or if someone had already borrowed the papers and thus it would be impossible to get hold of for a time, or if they’d found something else they wanted to source at the same time. Any of these options would allow Augustus to make his own inquiries— 

Yet he needn’t have worried about that at all, because when Augustus entered his own office, he found Yujin standing behind Augustus’s desk, drawers open and papers spread out. 

Yujin jumped at Augustus’s sudden arrival and straightened quickly, reaching up to push back long strands of black hair that had escaped their braid—had they been there for a while? “Professor! I wasn’t expecting you to be in today!”

[What should Augustus do? (describe in comments)]

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Professor Augustus Pennywright took a long, slow sip of his coffee and sighed in contentment, turning his head this way and that to a stunning array of cracking sounds and the pleasant relief of pressure. He had one rule for himself whenever he woke up on Restday: he’d enjoy a drink and have a nice read of the broadsheets before he would allow himself to think about work at all. There was a burning smell out the window—but it was someone else’s problem, and he could already hear the incantations that someone was shouting to contain it. He wasn’t going to get involved, not right after he’d woken up.

Augustus liked his pleasures, and he liked that secret time in the morning where his thoughts and feelings were just his own. He made his coffee bitter and strong to wring more experiences from it than just flavor; his dressing robe was quilted for warmth and brocaded for appearance. The broadsheets were just-for-pleasure reading as well; for a short time, he could put aside dense, jargonistic academic journals and see what was going on in the world, what scandals were being talked about, what crimes had occurred, what marriages had been sworn, what rituals had been poorly conducted out in the public and were causing trouble for the civilians, what was being done about it. 

But soon enough the coffee was done, the broadsheets were read, and it was already going on midday and long past time he should be changed into daywear. He might have gotten his chores done yesterday—on the appropriately named Choresday—but when one worked at a university, one rarely had a full Restday to actually rest in. Regrettably. 

His suit for the day was a nice dark green with gold brocade thread on it that matched his wedding band. He fastened his vest, though he left his jacket to the side; he wasn’t sure yet if he were going out or not, but it was easier to get into the mindset of work if he weren’t lazing around in his shirtsleeves. He brushed his hair—a graying black and a little too long, though he found he liked the effect of having to push it back and of feeling it brush his collar—and took a moment to admire himself. He was no longer as young as he used to be, and the effects of good living had filled his form out since his lanky youth, but he liked it; his thickness gave more dimension to his textured clothing, and he enjoyed the way his body looked lived-in.

But that was enough self-indulgence, alas. With a good-natured sigh at his own reluctance, Augustus pulled his notebook out and double-checked his schedule for the week that started tomorrow:

Firstday: Conjuration 101, 9-12, morn
Twosday: Office Hours, 1-3, aft
Thirdsday: Planar Studies 102, 2-5, aft
Fourthsday: Office hours, 10-12, morn
Fivesday: Planar Studies 202, 2-5, aft

(It would then be followed by another Choresday and Restday, of course, but those were not on the schedule).

Any time that wasn’t blocked out was technically free time, but in actuality, free time for a professor was a split between genuine leisure time and time spent on grading, independent research, class-planning, and paper-writing. Usually, leisure lost the competition. Right now, Augustus had three classes on his schedule with associated preparation and grading, personal research to conduct and research that he’d promised his husband he’d do, and a monograph that the department head Honey Terwillegar wouldn’t stop chasing him about (though he knew that was less on her and more the fault of the Dean, Reginald von Beekeeper, who was trying to justify a budget increase to the board).

Frowning at his schedule, he tried to decide which of his options was best for his free time today. 

[It begins with a light, introductory segment.
Comment below. Should Augustus:
> Go into the office and prep for class tomorrow
> Go into the office and see what his research assistant has dug up
> Research on his own (personal, or for the husband)
> Stay home and work on his monograph
> Call his husband (about what? Describe in comments.)
> He should do something else (describe in comments)]

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